A/N: Rating has only been recently changed to M, as I realized that a reader has mentioned in a very intense review. :D I suppose that hints as something, no? I won't disclose anything further. I have something that I'm sure you guys will be happy to read.
Anyways, chapter twenty had the most reviews I've ever gotten for one chapter… now over 200 reviews! I honestly never thought I'd get to this point! Please keep enjoying this story! Arigato, mina-san! *Bows*
Crimsonfire3 has made another fanart for this story! Thanks sweetie~ s2
I don't really like this chapter x-x I think I did badly. But I've already re-written it so many times, I can't do it anymore! Urgh. Sorry everyone. I hope you can forgive me for being bad. And slow at updating... I have so many projects to do!
{DISCLAIMER} I don't own Durarara! ε-(´・｀) ﾌｰ

Lithium

By Forsythia Sky

Chapter Twenty One

A boy runs, his thin legs pounding against the pavement. His breaths come out in short heaves.

Unsure, he pauses to glance back at the pursuing crowd.

That was a mistake.

As soon as he turned around, a shovel hits him square in the chest and he falls to the ground unceremoniously. He gasps, clutching his midsection.

"Get out of Shaya, monster. You are not my son!" the woman screeches hysterically, bringing the shovel down again, earning crows of approval from her friends. "I should get you exorcised! Demon! How dare you posses my… my baby boy…" She begins to sob, wiping her dark brown eyes furiously trying to rid off the moisture.

I run over to kneel beside his fragile body. His small hands are curled into fists, trembling with frustration. But yet, he doesn't fight back.

He doesn't yell, doesn't scream, he just stares up at his beloved mother with wide eyes filled with betrayal.

How he can do that is entirely beyond me.

Then all at once, the crowd surges forward after a moment's hesitation, bringing their weapons down on the defenseless boy over and over, not stopping even when his cries of anguish turn into ones of silent streaming tears. The watery rivulets mix with the blood and dust that cake his features and muddle his dark hair.

"Mom…" the child whispers to himself, not bothering to shield himself from the painful landslide of blows. He takes them all, as if he really deserves the punishment.

As if he had really committed that nonexistent sin.

I shut my eyes and block my ears. I can't take anymore of this. But for some reason, even with my eyes and ears firmly shut off, I can still see and hear every single detail. I can hear the child's harsh breathing start to slow, the loud huffs as the mob begins to stop their violent ministrations, retreating like animals to their dens after a satisfying meal.

Realizing it's futile, I let my hands drop from the sides of my head and let my eyelids creak open. The boy is lying in a puddle of his own blood, weapons strewn haphazardly around his petite form. The streets have become deserted, leaving nothing but an idle crow that caws out a guttural sound before taking flight.

He's dead. I'm sure of it.

Yet some idiotic part of me hopes that it isn't true. For an odd, unknown reason, I understand every detail of his situation. I know exactly what will happen but yet, I still make guesses and predictions.

Suddenly, the mop of dark brown hair lifts up and for the first time, our gazes interlock.

I can only think of one thing at this moment: Don't make me watch this again.

The boy's eyes that were once large, lucid and innocent begin to turn into hard slate. Flat and merciless and being only capable of holding a vastness of violence. He slowly sits up, wiping the blood with the back of his hand; smudging his life's liquid over the bruised skin.

It's completely beyond me how he survived.

Hey. Are you a monster?

The boy smiles, clandestine; his gaze remaining locked with mine. I watch as his heart and soul harden, his childish face becoming stern and fierce. I watch as he slides a cigarette between his lips and inhales as if his life depends on it.

And I can only watch as slowly, his hair becomes a shocking blond, his body elongating, his eyes shaded by a pair of dark sunglasses.

I can only watch as he becomes me.

I sit up harshly, gasping for breath as if I had just run a twenty mile marathon. Sweat drips down the side of my face, my thin t-shirt damp and my bangs pressing against my forehead.

I rub my hands tiredly over my face, flinching when my ring knocks against the corner of my lips. That's the third time I've had that dream so far and it still hasn't gotten easier to bear in the slightest. Tch.

A monster… eh?

"Hah…" I scoff, leaning back on my elbows and tilting my head towards the ceiling. I'm 24 and yet, this particular nightmare never fails shake me to the core.

Though, it's not so much a nightmare as it is a memory. One that I've tried a million times over to wipe from my existence. I should have known that that would never happen. It's impossible.

I'll never forget what's been branded onto my soul. Memories of my childhood continue to play in my head like a movie, the film reels rolling and ceasing to stop.

It only makes it worse for me, sitting here alone in the silence. Why is it so quiet?

Why can't I hear his breathing?

This is the first time since I've become blind that I've been exposed to such a thing. Silence.

It's only now that I find out how despicable it is. The lack of noise presses down on me, shoving me onto my back and suffocating me. I'm paralyzed as I can only hear my heart beat accompanied by my own loud intakes of air. Without a source of outside sound, I feel as if I've gone deaf.

Couple that with being blind and it's like being locked up inside my own body. I feel like a caged animal, deprived of my most primal senses. I can't help wondering if I really have gone deaf; that if I speak, I won't even hear my own voice anymore.

It'll be like I don't really exist anymore. I'll be alone inside my body with nothing to tell me that the world outside really exists.

I shudder, trying to shed my disgustingly morbid thoughts. How did I get to this point?

"Izaya?" I whisper, so immensely relieved to hear my own voice. I wonder vaguely that if I'm left in this silence any longer, maybe I'll begin to talk to myself just to hear something.

I reach out a tentative hand to my right, the side where he sleeps. I meet empty air, nearly falling off the bed as I lurch forward. The hard leather digs into my waist.

Leather… this isn't even the bed. I'm on the couch.

… Why am I on the couch?

I curse as everything from last night comes rushing back at me, over-flooding the bloody remnants of my nightmare.

I had kissed him, didn't I? I really did it.

And then I ran.

That explains why I'm alone on the couch, then. Serves me right. I count my breaths to try to deploy my mind from thinking about how quiet it is again. The nothingness sends chills that crawl up my arms and legs like insects.

It's disgusting.

But when I don't think about that, my thoughts drift back to Izaya. To our kiss, to be more precise.

Moronic, idiotic, stupid, protozoan, I chant as I repeatedly smack my forehead. What was I thinking?

No, why wasn't I thinking? That seems to be a more accurate question.

Taking advantage of a sick person is low. I feel shame creep up my neck and heat my cheeks.

The worst part about this is that I liked it. I liked the feel of his soft lips pressing against mine, feeling his breath fan across my cheek and his voice whispering my name…

Shit. I slump back down onto the hard leather couch, purposely letting the hardest points press into my back. Anything to distract from my traitorous thoughts.

But without those traitorous thoughts, I begin to hyperventilate under the blanket of silence.

I'm really just going around in circles, aren't I?

Realizing that this is really not the way to go about things, I slide off the couch and feel my way to the bathroom. My finger tips trail along the hall, searching for the correct dip that indicates my desired location.

Uncomfortable, I slip off my damp t-shirt as I enter, not bothering to shut the door behind me. Everyone is asleep anyways. I wash off all traces of my earlier dilemma down the drain, splashing my face twenty times more than I usually do. The sound of rushing water is music to my ears.

Once I feel appropriately freshened, I amble back to the couch without the aid of my hands, testing my memory. I'm proud to say that I only tripped once on the way back to the couch.

Admittedly, I had paused a little at Izaya's door, wondering whether he's angry.

I wonder if he has better dreams than I do.

I really contemplated what I should say to him. What kind of excuse could I make for that kiss-and-run? Undoubtedly, if I attempt to join him in his bed tonight, he'd slit my throat without having to even wake up.

I slide back onto the couch, bunching my t-shirt under my head as a makeshift pillow. I shut my eyes, willing sleep to come.

Luckily, it deigns to grace me dreamlessly this time.

Riiiiiinnnnggggg! Riiiiiinnnnnnggggg!

I groan, rolling over but only managing to throw myself to the floor in a drowsy heap. The annoying sound grates my ear drums, though the sound is still reassuring that I hadn't died in my sleep.

Fantastic.

Is it an alarm clock or something? That would mean that it's a new day… and that I'd have to explain myself to Izaya.

And also… that there's only two more days until…

Ugh.

I lay there on the floor, my shirt thrown to some miscellaneous place during my free fall. The carpet scratches at my bare chest, the rough material imprinting on my cheek.

Maybe I'll just sleep some more right here.

"Shizuo!" Shinra yells, his voice startling my eyelids open again.

"What," I grumble, muffling my voice into my arm. My brain feels like it weighs a hundred pounds where it sits in my head; though granted, a hundred pounds is nothing to me.

"Phone call," the mousy haired man reprimands, his voice sounding closer this time. Then a random object falls from the sky and hits me square in the chest.

"Ow," I grunt, monotonous. It didn't hurt, but saying 'ow' is somewhat a natural reflex. Shinra must have come into the room without me noticing. The object appears to be a phone as I fumble to grasp it.

I'm not much of a morning person.

"Hullo?" I ask gruffly as soon as I press it to my face. The other end is silent. "Hello? I'm hanging up."

"Um, Shizuo…" Shinra says timidly.

"What?" I snap.

"You're holding it upside down."

Oh. Hah. I flip it the other way and repeat the greeting. My eyelids remain hooded, tired.

"Hello, Shizuo-san?" A feminine voice that I don't recognize says in an urgent voice. I sit up, the mental haze I was in immediately dissipating.

"Who is this?" I demand.

"This is Nell, Tom's girlfriend."

"Oh… hi," I say, appropriately abashed. I didn't know he had a girlfriend.

Nell pauses for a second before saying in a small voice,

"Tom got into an accident last night."

And that's all it takes for me to send the couch flying across the room.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please leave a review if you're looking to read more. ^_^