Bleeding Souls
Izaya looked back at Mikado, sighing yet again. It had been over 24 hours since he had driven the boy's soul from his body; the informant was getting impatient, since something else should have happened by then. He was loath to admit it, but it made him slightly apprehensive to have the soul separated from its physical shell for too long, a feeling he was unaccustomed to. Suddenly, he didn't want to leave Mikado's side until the boy woke up, and the sensation was something he had to puzzle over.
On a whim, the black haired man traced a ringed finger along the side of the teen's face; Mikado felt like ice, his body temperature was impossibly low. Auburn eyes remained fixed on the boy's face; there was no sign of discomfort like he had seen when Mikado was being victimized in the other realm the first time around. It didn't seem like a good idea for Mikado's soul to be gone too much longer if things like this were occurring. The possible medical ramification most likely would be unpleasant—if there were any. Something told him there would be, however, if the teen stayed away from his body for too much longer.
Masaomi watched the informant with Mikado from the threshold which separated the living area and the kitchen. Izaya either hadn't seen him or wasn't bothered by the teen's presence. The blonde felt a pang of anxiety as he watched the pair, however. If Masaomi had seen such a display from anyone other than Izaya, he would call it intimate; however, that was not the case. He watched the older male's blank expression with curiosity. Izaya rarely had a serious face, usually opting for that damned smirk which was the pinnacle of condescendence; therefore, an expression so void was odd and out of place.
These small details were only exacerbating the blonde's anxiousness; what if, by some impossibly small chance, Izaya actually did like Mikado? But, if he did, then why trap his soul somewhere? The Yellow Scarves' leader watched the couple a little longer, trying to ponder just how genuine the dynamics were that he was witnessing. Izaya had returned to visit the unconscious teen periodically since Mikado had been brought to Shinra and Celty's apartment; or rather, he had barely left, and had usually gone and returned quickly with Celty. That seemed genuine—though Masaomi wasn't sure if it was concern or curiosity bringing the man back.
"How long are you going to stand over there? I always had a hunch you were a bit of a voyeur, Masaomi," Izaya smirked, watching the teen scowl in response from the corner of his eye.
"Whatever," the blonde huffed. He looked back at the couch; the informant had returned his focus back to the younger, unconscious teen. Masaomi sighed; he couldn't decide if the uneasiness he felt was derived from guilt or anger. Beginning to lean more towards the former, he looked back at Izaya. "I'm getting something to drink, you want anything? You've been here for a while…"
"Sure," the informant murmured. He was going to tease Masaomi over his peace offering and poor attempt to ease his guilt—when Mikado seemed to twitch.
Mikado & Izaya
Mikado wondered how, even in this astral form, he was a terribly slow—and now winded—runner. Shortly after the city had taken on its new colorless manifestation, the teen grew restless and began to wander the silent, monochrome streets. In midst of his aimless roaming, Mikado noticed the shadows growing larger and darker, shifting from gray to black. He ran without question, trying to think of somewhere which might be a safe haven in midst of this enemy territory. Against his will, his body began to slow; the teen pleaded with his tired muscles to continue on as he heard voices behind him pick up.
A glance over his shoulder revealed an increasing number of deformed black masses sprouting ugly, obtusely angled limbs. Mikado faced forward again; the last thing he wanted to do was trip and be captured like he had seen happen in every cliché horror movie. Randomly, he turned down the next street, then chanced another look behind him to see that the monsters had yet to round the corner, though he could still hear them.
He was sure they would easily find him, if not by some supernatural means then they would most likely be able to hear the boy's ragged breathing and heart beating wildly against his ribs. Mikado gasped as he ran, knowing he really couldn't keep it up much longer; he needed to think of something.
Suddenly, he felt something cold wrap around his wrist and pull him backwards. The action combined with Mikado's momentum in the opposite direction practically jerked his arm out of its socket.
Mikado felt a terrible sensation of vertigo as his body was yanked in another direction, successfully spinning him around. He then felt surrounded by something slightly warm and soft. The teen moved his hands up to push whatever it was away from him, when he felt fabric. He was honestly expecting the Midnight Man or one of the other Takers to have been what grabbed him, so the clothing detail confused him. The embrace loosened slightly, allowing Mikado to use his waning strength to push away marginally and look at what had grabbed him.
The teen was panting as he looked up, feeling like he was going to collapse after all the sprinting he had just done. His uneven breathing hitched as he looked up into a familiar pair of auburn eyes. Mikado was about to speak when he felt a cold hand over his mouth and watched as Izaya put a finger to his own lips, motioning for silence. The younger male understood why as he heard the demented voices getting closer, growing louder. He then realized he and Izaya were in an alley off the street he had lead the Takers down.
The pair stood still and silent for several minutes, listening to the incomprehensible voices and inhuman growls from the menacing creatures. Mikado subconsciously leaned the majority of his weight against the informant as he was still locked in the position against him anyhow. The teen decided that, should he ever return to school, he would refuse to ever run in gym class again, he felt so nauseous right now. Then he remembered he had no choice in the matter until he graduated from High School and almost groaned out loud.
After what seemed to be an eternity, the monsters withdrew and went to look elsewhere. Mikado felt the arms around him drop—and he immediately stepped away from the other man and glared. It had to be a trick.
The teen watched as the Izaya look-alike tilted his head, studying him. "Well, you certainly don't seem very happy to see me, Mikado. That's kind of disheartening."
"If you think I'll fall for the same trick twice, then I don't know how you've survived so long," Mikado replied with a cold tone. This had to be the Midnight Man messing with him again; Izaya was the one who sent him here, so the informant was back in the human realm.
The faux-informant smirked, "Oh, I forgot you said the Midnight Man took my form last time you were here. I must be more sleep-deprived than I originally thought. We don't have much time to waste here, though, Mikado."
"If you're going to attack, at least don't use a façade," Mikado spat.
The doppelgänger heaved a sigh. "It's really me, and we really shouldn't waste any more time than necessary. I mean, I saved you didn't I? If I was the Midnight Man, I would consider that to be a tad counterproductive, don't you think?"
Mikado glowered at the other before turning on his heels and exiting the alleyway. Much to his disdain, the copy followed him.
"Come on, Mikado," the teen heard the other male say as he followed the angry teen. "I can prove it's really me."
"How?" he replied in a sarcastic voice.
"Come on, I can show you. Follow me."
"Follow you where?" the teen asked sceptically. Mikado paused, glaring at the other supposed human man; it was completely improbable this was the real Izaya. The cautious teen watched with cold, blue eyes as the older male walked back toward him, then took his wrist and gently tugged it in the direction he wanted to go.
Despite all his instincts screaming at him to flee, his mind urged Mikado to comply with the monster. He wasn't compelled to comply due to fear or anything of that sort; it was simply strategic. If this was the Midnight Man and the creature was going to all the trouble of putting up such an elaborate guise, just for the purpose of getting the teen to follow, then he must be leading Mikado somewhere significant. The boy was certain that, even if it was a trap, it would be a more enlightening experience than uselessly wandering around the city.
After walking for a ways, Mikado felt them stop in front of a building. He recognized it as the building which contained Shinra and Celty's apartment. "Why are we here?"
The fake Izaya hummed for a moment, not bothering to answer as he continued to pull the Dollars' leader up the stairs, knowing the elevator would be a completely fruitless endeavour with time frozen as it was.
The pair entered the frozen apartment and Mikado glanced expectantly at the fiend, still puzzled by their location. "Well, where's your proof? Or are you finally ready to drop the charade and carry out whatever grand scheme you have for me?"
Mikado spoke with revulsion heavily lacing his tone. The copy-informant merely smirked and gestured to the living area of the apartment, so Mikado looked around apprehensively; so far, there were no other Takers there, which was a good sign, though the situation was still too volatile for him the relax.
Finally, his eyes settled on the two figures in the room; frozen because they were being reflected through the veil from the human realm. Unnerved, Mikado looked back at Izaya, who merely returned the boy's gaze patiently as the boy sorted out what must have happened to have caused the scene before him...
Izaya & Mikado
Izaya blinked several times, though it did nothing to aid the situation; rather, it only served to make the urge to close his eyes stronger. He leaned forward, auburn eyes gracing the innocent-looking glass of water on the coffee table. The man's head was reeling; the drink was dosed, apparently, with some fast-acting drug, probably one meant to induce sleep. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he actively realized it was sleeping pills, probably Shinra's strongest on hand, which had been placed in the beverage. He giggled, fingering the knife in his pocket; of course, Masaomi's goal was to essentially make him into a sitting duck—a defenceless target for the Midnight Man.
His vision was starting to split itself into seeing double of everything, so the informant blinked and watched the double Masaomi turn around and stroll into the kitchen. Izaya attempted to straighten himself and rolled up his sleeve as he drew the blade out of his pocket. He had to steady himself, at least long enough for this, and hoped the way of doing it would help.
Pain, fiery, white hot pain shot through his arm as the skin was broken. Hopefully, the lines would be clean despite the fact that the muscles in his hand were feeling lax and his sight was blurring...
Mikado & Izaya
"…His soul…missing…What did you...do?"
"All I did was spike his water with something to knock him out, I swear nothing else!" Masaomi said defensively. He didn't understand, either; how the Hell could someone's soul just disappear? The blonde nervously glanced back at the deformed mass looming next to the modern couch. He jumped as the creature released a vile, visceral hiss.
"…Sent his…soul!...pay…re…venge…need…mine…MINE…" The Taker spoke so rapidly it was barely understandable to the teen.
Masaomi took a few steps back as the shadows surrounding the monster spread and rose, like smoke. Its voices grew louder and more vicious, though before Masaomi could blink, all was quiet and the Midnight Man had dissipated.
Izaya & Mikado
Mikado looked from the informant back to the scene in the living area; Masaomi was standing in the doorway to the kitchen and Izaya appeared to be slumped on the couch, almost sprawled on Mikado's own body, unconscious.
Noting the confused expression on Mikado's face, Izaya stepped around the boy towards his sleeping copy. It was so strange to look at oneself while having a literal out of body experience; the absurdity of such an occurrence was enough to make him want to laugh. For the sake of keeping Mikado's attention, Izaya refrained from doing so and pulled back his physical body's sleeve.
Comprehension accompanied with relief washed over the boy as he stared at the same mark on Izaya's arm which the informant had carved into the back of the teen's hand. Izaya had sent his own soul to the other realm as well.
"Apparently, Masaomi was very angry I sent your soul here, so he tried to hand me over to the Midnight Man in the hopes that it would bring you back, not realizing, of course, that the monster would never give you up," Izaya grinned. "He always was so predictable, though…"
Mikado shook his head slightly in something like amusement as he walked over to the older male; as always, Izaya had accounted for everything. He looked up at the informant, noting they were standing very close at that point. Mikado leaned up slightly, his mouth hovering directly in front of the other's. "So, this begs the question of how we're supposed to get out of this place if we're both trapped here."
Izaya was quite aware of the lack of distance between the teen and himself, probably more aware of it than necessary. "Now you're just using circular reasoning, Mikado. Haven't we already gone over this whole 'trust' matter? You never struck me as much of a tease—I have to say, I'm surprised." He spoke with a smile dancing across his lips as the teen continued to linger so very close, lips practically ghosting over one another.
Mikado smiled lightly at the concept, it was strange to think that at the moment, it was exactly what he was doing, teasing. He was drawn from his musing when he realized their lips had connected; Mikado wasn't sure which of them exactly had caused the action, though he wasn't going to go against it. The teen pressed back fervently, and after a bit more of enjoying the more chaste kiss, he was so bold as to open his mouth slightly. Regardless of how enthralled he was with the ministrations, he could feel a hot blush creeping across his face; he had no idea what he was doing at this point due to his inexperience. The one thing Mikado had realized, however, was how the kiss he was experiencing felt the same as the way Izaya had kissed him before, a thought which helped reassure him this man was the real information broker.
The informant didn't seem to mind the boy's innocence as he seizing the opportunity Mikado had presented him with, though not too quickly, as he was wanting to aggravate the teen slightly. It was more fun like that, anyway. He felt the boy shiver against him as he coaxed the other's tongue into play for some time, using his own to slowly teach Mikado's.
Each pulled away, but not far, as their mouths parted from one another. Their breaths mingled together due to their physical closeness, though this left each to wonder how deep this went beyond the physicality and infatuation. With no sound foundation to build upon, how long before it, too, collapsed?
"I-I guess I don't have much choice in the matter…but to trust you," Mikado stuttered out, still breathless as his mind whirred from the electric sensations still lingering.
Izaya's eyes met Mikado's, and he was easily able to see all the emotions present amidst the deep azure; longing, happiness, discomfiture…all the naivety which was love. His pulse quickened—he tried to convince himself it was solely due to everything reaching an apex of sorts in terms of his plan thus far; it was exhilarating, to say the least.
Behind the boy, he caught sight of movement. Perfect. Several meters behind Mikado, a dark blemish manifested; it was a sharp contrast to the grey-scale the living area had taken on. Izaya smiled lightly and kept his gaze focused on the teen's cerulean eyes, though his centre of concentration remained on the murkiness forming in his peripherals.
"I guess you're right, you really don't have a choice."
The informant revelled in the jittery sensation accompanied by the chill ripping down his spine; the Midnight Man was there and oh, so very angry. The blackness had taken on its putrid, haphazard form, spouting gnarled limbs and decrepit faces pushing against the monster's stretched hide; this confrontation would be so interesting, invigorating, exciting.
Izaya wasn't so naïve as to delude himself into denial like normal humans; getting rid of this creature had become something of a fixation, one he was fully aware of—not because it posed a threat to his life, but because it thought it had a right to do so. The more his thoughts revolved around the issue of the Taker, the more his repulsion for the Midnight Man grew. The creature thinking it had a right to intervene with humans was ludicrous, its fake deity status was even more so, and it appalled Izaya that the monster was impinging on his territory, his humans.
With such a train of thought circumnavigating the forefront of his mind, it drove the adrenaline to dance through his veins at an increasingly rapid pace; his plans were reaching a zenith he had been looking forward to for days now. Electricity roiled through the tense air in the apartment. The informant couldn't resist directly looking at the Midnight Man as he plunged the switch-blade into a vital point on Mikado's stomach.
Abruptly, all the pleasurable electricity the teen had been feeling evaporated and Mikado's eyes widened. He looked down—and couldn't focus on anything aside from the blood pouring from his abdomen. Blood? From a soul? After a few moments, the searing pain finally registered in his brain, even as Izaya slowly pulled his switch-blade out of the teen. Mikado placed his hands over the wound though he knew it was futile; it hadn't even been a minute and his vision was blurring badly. He was going to bleed out. How could Izaya do this to him? And more importantly, why?
Was it really Izaya after all? It couldn't be…the informant wouldn't...wouldn't kill him. Maybe the scene of the man unconscious and with the mark on his arm was…an illusion? No, it didn't seem like it…The kiss didn't feel like it…Of course, he had no idea of the Midnight Man behind him, but there was a strange roar starting to fill his ears...
Wispy, smoke-like shadows thickened as they rolled off the misshapen mass of the monster's body; it voiced its presence as garbled whispers amalgamated into a strangled, cacophonic roar. Izaya swore he could feel the guttural din reverberate through the bloodied metal blade still poised in his hand. The Midnight Man's shadows seemed to settle closer to the floor as they swelled and grew in what seemed to be an attempt to encompass the apartment in its entirety.
Izaya momentarily lost his focus, too busy regarding the Midnight Man's changes with a smug derision, when his attention was brought back to the boy swaying in front him. Mikado looked at him, though he appeared to do so with great difficulty; his normally bright eyes had taken on a more indigo hue as the pleading gaze kept slipping sideways in its dizzy state. "Wha…Why did you…?"
Mikado's legs finally gave out as he pressed his hands over the wound, attempting to rectify or at least hold on to his gauzy form of consciousness. He couldn't concentrate on anything aside from the sticky, florid gore cascading and overflowing his hands, and he realized his eyes had closed without his permission. He was confused as to why he had yet to feel the impact of the floor, so forced his eyes open again as a series of shrill, visceral screams rang through the room. Now he knew the Midnight Man was there.
The man glanced at Mikado, who was now draped slovenly against him as he held the teen upright; he took note that the teen was still bleeding heavily as the viscid, sanguine substance continued to fall in thick drops onto the colourless floor. It wouldn't be much longer now at this rate.
Forcing his eyes to stay open as his vision filled with spots, Mikado felt he had to see what was going on; this wasn't something they had experienced with the Takers before. The stodgy blackness rolling off the fiend was giving the apartment the look of a toxic perdition, and as Mikado inhaled it, the air seemed to have taken on an even more acrid quality. The smoky shadows that had settled above the floor substantiated and became a rancid, frothing ink. The Midnight Man and its trapped souls spread into a larger shape, looking even more licentious as the skin stretched thinner; so thin, in fact, that Mikado was sure if it had not been such a dark colour, it would have held a startling translucence.
The unfortunate souls caught inside the Taker could be seen clearly outlined as their flesh prison assuaged its hold; they were screaming, gasping, stretching, clawing, doing anything they could to bring themselves nearer to release. Izaya's eyes widened as he witnessed the filmy casing tear in places, though he couldn't be certain that was what was happening due to the billowing shadows. The darkness at the Taker's command had become increasingly viscous; now cataracts of ink appeared to be coming from the creature. Black, syrupy, oozing putrefaction could be heard hitting the floor heavily in the midst of the unrest inside the Midnight Man's body. Haughtily, the informant considered the anomalous sound with engaging vivacity.
All at once, the monochrome makeover the apartment had adopted through the frozen veil seemed to burst forth with colours, hues resurging with a vengeance and more vivaciousness than they originally were. Mikado felt Izaya's grip tighten; it was so hard to look on at the headache-inducing scene, acidic neon colours fluxing with the fermenting ink exuding from the Midnight Man. Another glance at the beast which had been haunting him for days startled Mikado; instead of seeming overstressed as it had a moment ago, the Midnight Man's body almost looked…swollen. Coagulated darkness obscenely leaking as its body expanded.
Mikado felt all air rush from his lungs as he experienced the unmistakable falling sensation. The horrendously bright pigments bled into the airless atmosphere, making it appear as though he and Izaya were inside some corrosive kaleidoscope. The teen gripped Izaya's sleeve tightly as the plummeting feeling worsened. The azure-eyed boy gasped for air, only to find none; what was going on? He then felt himself make contact with a surface, as though his falling had been halted by finally hitting the ground; though such was not necessarily the case. His eyes had once more slid shut he realized vaguely as he felt the heavy weight of opening them.