Chapter 11


Bunokura Town, September 2016

Evening

Shizuo did end up spending the night.

He didn't want to, in all honesty. And Izaya most certainly didn't want him to. But Haruto was unrelenting; he bounced, proposed countless things they have to do together, finally whined and pretended to cry until Shizuo gave up, and Izaya drove his wheelchair away with a huff, locking himself in his room and not coming out even when the boy knocked and asked him to.

Shizuo managed to pacify Haruto in this regard; it was the least he could do, as he still felt terrible guilt burning at his heart after seeing just what he had done to the raven-haired informant, and what's more, how he made all the hurt and all the trauma reappear just by being there. So the blond picked the boy up and carried him away until he could no longer bother Izaya, and played with him dutifully, first letting Haruto show him all his toys yet again, helping him unpack the brand new ones, finally sitting with him by a console and playing Mario Kart with him until the loud, rumbling sound got out oh his stomach and Shizuo ordered all of them pizza (and some pasta for Himari, who raised her eyes from her book only to tell him she'd prefer that. Once it came, he left Haruto digging happily in his slices and Himari humming approvingly when the blond prepared her tea and gave her her dinner on a tray so she didn't have to move, before picking another tray and walking slowly to the closed door of master's bedroom.

He knocked.

There was no answer.

"...Izaya, I know for a fact you're there. I also know you didn't eat anything today. I've got food, let me in, okay?"

Still no answer.

"You do realise I can open the door whether you unlock it or not, right?"

Silence.

"Okay, well... don't tell me I didn't warn you. On one... two..."

A sigh, and a soft sound of wheels scraping the floor, followed by the door unlocking and a tiny creak appearing when the informant opened the door. A bit. Shizuo didn't push or try to open them wider; he really didn't want to come on as forceful at the moment, as ironic as it may have sounded. Izaya looked him up and down, before a ghost of a smile brushed his lips and he opened the door more, taking the tray and placing it on his lap.

"...I see Haruto-kun introduced you to his hairdresser kit." he said in a quiet voice, gaze dropping to the contents of the tray and a displeased frown. Shizuo smiled lightly as well; both because he knew he still had few of the cute hairpins and green ribbons Haruto insisted on putting in his hair, and because he just remembered some off-handed remark Shinra made about how Izaya liked to eat healthy.

"Mhm. He introduced me more or less to most of his toys."

"Was that Mario Kart I heard before?"

"Yeah. He was delighted, he said you never let him win."

"Ah... well, children should learn to work hard to be the best."

"...never imagined you the kind to be a thoughtful parent."

"No, probably not."

There was something unbearably artificial in the whole exchange, and the moment the awkward silence fell between them, they both welcomed it almost with relief. Izaya bit his lip and looked away after a moment, his wheelchair driving back half a step. Shizuo took a step back, too.

"...thank you for the meal."

"...don't mention it."

And just like that, the door closed again, and the lock clicked. On both sides, soft, relieved sighs escaped two sets of lips.


Bunokura Town, September 2016

Midnight

All lights in the apartment were off, but the spacious living room occupying the majority of hotel's royal suite was either way illuminated, the never-fading lights of the city casting soft, gleaming shine over the luxurious, comfortable furniture. Combined with moonlight, it made all it cast its gentle glamour on seem silver and smooth, making even the sharp corners of some of the more modern appliances take on a more cozy, rounded look.

It was quiet, safe for some barely audible sounds of breathing, and of the city bustling many, many floors under the feet of the inhabitants of this apartment. There was also another sound; steady, quiet whirring, somewhat mechanical in its nature.

A dark figure emerged from the door of the master's bedroom, connected via a small corridor to the living room. It was quiet, dressed in simple black, with hair of the same color. In this dim light, only its eyes shone with a touch of crimson.

The man who just entered the room was seated on a wheelchair - the source of the soft, whirring sound. He looked young, but his face was pale and his eyes were tired with experience and too many years of hidden suffering. Orihara Izaya drove his grotesque throne towards the couch in the middle of the room and halted just beside it, looking down silently at the figure curled up under the blanket there.

After many, many years of seeing him just outside the reach of his fingers, after planning and executing the plan that was meant to make this man a hero and make him forget Izaya once and for all, erasing him from his life, Heiwajima Shizuo was there; sleeping on his couch, snuggled under his blanket, even cuddling a teddy bear that Izaya had bought, alas not having this particular blond in mind while doing so. Today, Heiwajima Shizuo has entered his life again, with tact and grace one could only expect from such a crude protozoan as him. Today, all of Izaya's whole, meticulously planned life after Shizuo has been destroyed, and he himself thrown onto unknown territory, and forced to confront feelings he has been hiding and running from all his life.

"...why can't you ever do what I expect you to, Shizuo..? Shizu-chan..." Izaya sighed, leaning his chin on his hand as he looked down at his ex-nemesis, sleeping peacefully in the house of one he swore never to trust. The raven seemed to hesitate, but soon he simply couldn't help the sudden urge, and his hand moved to thread softly through the blond hair. They were soft; so perfectly soft. Who would have thought, after so many bleachings? Izaya couldn't help but chuckle quietly to himself. Of course Shizuo had to feel even better than he could ever imagine him to be.

All it took was this one thought to make Izaya pull back and straighten up on his wheelchair all over again.

Today was such a whirlpool of unwelcome emotions. First Shizuo, forcing his way back into his life, catching him in his arms as if that was the most natural thing in the world; as if they were friends; as if these years of hatred and murderous desires was nothing more than a dream. And Izaya was left with images of pain and fear flashing before his eyes, of the sight of this man, that now carried him carefully in his arms, dragging a heavy vending machine over the pavement, ready to finish him off. It was a wild, raw kind of terror that spoke to Izaya on the most primitive level possible, made him tense and prepare for death without consulting his brain, his feelings or even his consciousness.

And when Shizuo let him go, it was already too late. The blond seen fear in his eyes; Izaya could see it in his.

He was given another chance, and he lost it before even realising it's there.

Even when Shizuo seemed to want to talk afterwards, what was there to talk about? What was there to say? All the years you've hated me, I lied. I never hated you. I loved you. I still do. All I ever wanted was to make you happy. I was ready to sacrifice everything for you, and I very nearly did. As if he could say any of these.

"...why are you here? Why now? Why can't you simply be content in the life I created for you back there?" the informant whispered, the words followed by an exasperated sigh. It would have been better if he could prepare himself and lie to the blond again. To make him hate him once more. It would have been better if Shizuo left. But no; Haruto, of all people, latched himself onto the blond from the moment he heard the word stay in regard to him, and didn't let go, even when Shizuo tried to convince him he should leave, at least for the night, but the boy was unrelenting, forcing the blond to stay, and even preparing Shizuo a vaguely comfortable resting place on the couch, teddy bear included.

Izaya smiled lightly at the cuddly bear wrapped in the blond's arms, some of the old warmth he usually felt while chatting with Tsugaru rising in his chest again.

"...Izaya..." came a soft murmur somewhere from under the blanket, and the informant tensed on his wheelchair, his face turning pale; Shizuo, however, only turned slightly, his face slipping from under the blanket, a soft, sad frown painted all over it as he voiced the sleepy question Izaya has been asking himself for the past day; and possibly many, many years before.

"...why...?"


Bunokura Town, September 2016

Morning

As the first rays of sunlight emerged from behind the many skyscrapers scattered across Bunokura, Heiwajima Shizuo opened his eyes and was greeted by the early morning flood of brightness hitting him right across the eyes. He felt somewhat stiff, and as if his spine has been twisted in a way most spines should not be during the night, but otherwise, he felt strangely... light. As if some great weight has been lifted from his shoulders since the previous morning.

Of course, he had no right to feel like that. The case with Izaya has been anything but solved. They were still miserably trying and failing to communicate, both withholding and yearning for information, trying to read each other's thoughts and lamenting when the other failed to decipher them. Nothing was easy or solved; if anything, things got even more complicated. And even so, Shizuo felt at ease.

Maybe simply because Izaya was there, and if the blond could help it, he was not going anywhere until he gives him some very needed answers.

For now, Shizuo slowly sat up, the blanket slipping down his naked chest and resting on his lap, together with the teddy bear. He only brought pyjama pants with himself, and didn't want to sleep in the T-shirt he wore during the day

"...up already?" Came a quiet voice behind him, and Shizuo turned so fast he almost fell off the couch. Izaya was right there, looking at him with sleep still thick in his eyes, his hair tousled, an oversized hoodie and shorts hanging on his thin frame. He was already on his wheelchair, and had a glass of water in hand, and suddenly Shizuo realised the raven driving past him must have been what woke him up.

"...yeah. You?"

"Just woke up. Needed a glass of water."

Well, Izaya sounded at least somewhat more collected than yesterday. And less fearful. Shizuo stretched and yawned, scratching his head.

"Say... no chance you have milk here, right?"

"Haruto-kun drinks milk. Be sure to leave some for him, though."

" Izaya...?"

"What?"

Shizuo hesitated, the informants words coming off much more defensive than he was prepared for them to be. Judging by Izaya's expression, more than the informant was prepared for them to be, too.

"...nothing. Thanks for letting me sleep here."

"...I didn't have much choice, did I? I expect you to leave as soon as possible, though. I don't want you here."

"...I want answers. I'm not leaving until I get them."

"...well, I suppose neither of us is getting what they want then."