With the coming of morning, there came the awakening of the dead. Izaya would've loved to go to the living world, and say that to a human passerby, only to laugh at the horrified expression. Alas, Orihara Izaya no longer had a love for all of humanity, for his death made him realize exactly how coldhearted humans are.
In his human life, Izaya Orihara was a beautiful man, envied by all. Like most nobles that lived in Japan in the 1800's, the Orihara family was quite wealthy, and, because Izaya was the heir to his family's "empire" so to say, he was greatly desired and wanted by all.
Alas, the man turned down the proposals of marriage he received, in the same snobby manner he'd address the servants of his home with. Many a suitor would walk away, trying to hold back their tears, but Izaya wouldn't even spare them a glance.
Izaya wasn't technically doing it to be mean. He knew the suitors' intent for marriage: status, wealth, and power. They did not care for the raven they'd be bound to forever, and instead focused upon the fortune and wealth that came with the surname: Orihara. It made Izaya's stomach churn in unpleasantness, whenever another suitor would come, kneel at his feet, and present the ring.
'Please,' Izaya had thought one day, in disgust, as yet another suitor tainted the Orihara Manor with their presence, and immediately knelt at the crimson-eyed male's feet. 'Take your ring, and vacate the premise. You're not welcome here, and I'd never in a million years, stand loyally at your side.'
"No, I do not accept. Leave my home, or suffer the consequences," Izaya had cut off the suitor in mid-proposal. The suitor, a boy with black hair, dressed in a black suit, with a crimson cape, looked shocked. What was his name again? Izaya wondered for a moment. Oh, yes! Mikado Ryugamine, a young man who had come to Japan, and, in a mere two years, shot through the ranks of wealth, to be considered among the nobles of Shinjuku, and the neighboring city of Ikebukuro.
Rather unremarkable, in Izaya's eyes. Alas, being a noble, rather by birth or not, Mikado had just as much of a right to propose and court Izaya, as did the others who wasted their time entering the sepia-eyed, twenty-year-old's home.
"But—But I didn't even—" Mikado had stammered, only to be interrupted by Izaya holding the pointer finger of his right hand up, in a signal for silence. Mikado quieted.
"I have no intent of marrying you, Lord Ryugamine." The raven was sitting upon a plush, crimson couch, his arms resting upon the back, and his right leg crossed over his left: a posture of poise and composure. Upon seeing the boy's fallen expression, Izaya chuckled dryly, and continued to speak, "You have no intent upon marrying me for love, therefore..."
There was a moment of silence, in which Mikado found himself gulping, uneasily.
Izaya's voice remained calm, but it had a cold and lethal undertone. "I cannot marry you."
"Your—Your parents are making you marry for love!" Mikado had been shocked and outraged. "That's absurd! Do you even understand what marriage is for people of our stature?"
The rest of the boy's rant became faint, as Izaya watched him, smirking, and began to think:
'Foolish Mikado.' Izaya bowed his head slightly, and closed his eyes, smiling. 'You're so stupid as to think that marriage should be for anything other than love. They must've poisoned your way of thinking in the last twenty-four months.' Izaya had no pity for the seemingly brainwashed boy. It was evident that the claws of "propriety" had sunk too deep into Mikado, and Izaya knew better than to try to change the boy's mindset, lest the eldest of the Orihara children find his morals poisoned by society's vile expectations.
"I understand." Izaya's icy voice broke through the young lord's rant. "However, I cannot and will not marry you. I find society's view on marriage to be corrupt and twisted. Either marry me for love, or leave my home, right now."
Stammering over his words, Mikado hustled out of the manor. Izaya sighed softly, contently, and leaned back upon his settee. The raven gave a soft, distinct purr of contentment that, to the horror of the servants, could only mean the heir to the manor had kicked out another suitor.
The months went by in this fashion, with Izaya becoming more dissatisfied with each and every suitor. The raven was becoming disconsolate and melancholy, for his hope was diminishing, and he believed that he would never find someone who loved him for himself, not his fortune, power, or wealth that came with his surname and status. His father had calmly tried to suggest, one morning, that Izaya just give one of the suitors a chance. The results had not been pretty...
"You dare to dictate my life," the Orihara heir hissed, rather calm as he held one of his trusty knives to his father's throat.
"I-Izaya-kun," his father had stammered. "I-I merely meant—"
"No," the heir's tone was smooth and lethal. "I know what you meant...and I will not bow down to society, like that."
Unbeknownst to the young raven, marrying for love would lead to his downfall...
᷈
A great yawn tore through Shizuo as he stretched, awakening to the new day. He smiled softly, unable to determine the warm feeling that enveloped him in his languid state. A soft, content murmur slipped past his lips, and his caramel-colored eyes remained barely slit open. Shizuo viewed everything in a half-asleep daze.
Izaya snapped out of his memories, and turned onto his right side. The corpse felt a familiar, warm sensation envelope him, and, for once, didn't refuse the feeling.
The feeling of loving someone with everything you are and everything you have.
Izaya purred softly, nuzzling Shizuo's cheek. In a half-asleep daze, Shizuo smiled, completely unaware of his actions.
Izaya noticed the expression, and Shizuo's murmur gave him more hope.
"I...love you...Izaya."
Shizu-chan...You have no idea what you just got yourself into.