Soundtrack for this chapter: "Skin to Bone" by Linkin Park

Izaya knew people stared, he would too if he were them, they weren't the obvious run-of-the-mill couple.

The age difference was staggering and effectively illegal and wrong on so many levels: a fifteen year old freshman and a twenty year old medical student. He didn't care though, he had long since cared about what other people thought of him.

It had started off as a strange friendship, Izaya drawn in by the other male's kindness and gentle looks, and slowly developed into something more. They never really talked about their ages, but each one knew what they were doing and didn't seemed to care. Kikuro seemed to understand Izaya's wariness of personal space, so he never really touched the other. Izaya felt safe with Kikuro, loved even, and felt happier than he had in years.

He kept Kikuro separate from his life as both an informant and a highschooler, and made sure that Shiro never saw him. While he doubted that his "father" actually cared about his well being, he might be disturbed that Izaya had a...taste...for the same sex. The beatings didn't stop, Izaya didn't want them too, but he certainly didn't want them to get worse. He was being punished for killing Shiro's wife, he didn't need to be beaten for being gay too.

Shizuo went back to being his violent tempered self and made Raira Academy an interesting place again. He fell right back into his friendship with Shinra, although the other often bailed on plans because of some girl he called Celty whom he lived with. Izaya would look into it but he was too wrapped up in his own love interest.

Kikuro loved to walk through town, something Izaya had started acompanying him with, and would often asked to hold Izaya's hand-which the latter politely declined. Nothing had really been stated that they were going out, no "would you go out with me?" or "hey I kinda like you in a way that isn't platonic", but by no means were they just friends. They were lovers.

And for once, Izaya had no regrets.

And like always, the happiness didn't last.

Izaya was walking to the Underground from school when he caught the scent. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and he was aware more than ever of how empty back alleyways really were. Hajime roughly grabbed his wrist and slammed his against the brick wall, his military family's strength showing. Izaya could defeat the boy in an instant, without a second thought, but his heart was in his throat. Hajime's close proximity, his warm breath blowing against his ear as he leaned in to hiss, "Finally, we're alone...", his fingers that slowly went down to brush against the front of his pants-it all took him back to Bogmertv. It was Hakuro doing these things, Hakuro who was licking at his neck and nipping at his ear hard enough to draw blood. Izaya's eyes were blown wide in fear-an emotion that strangled him so that he was gasping for air. Every touch lit his skin on fire, every rustle of clothes sounded louder than they actually were, his skin was hot but his blood was cold.

He didn't want this, he didn't ever want to do this with anyone again-be it rape or making love. It wasn't making love to him-it was slow gratuitous torture that sent his body spiraling into agony and his mind frazzling.

And all of a sudden Hajime was thrown off him, allowing Izaya to buckle to his knees. Izaya faintly realized that his pants were unzipped and his shirt unbuttoned by he couldn't care less as he watched Kikuro pin Hajime to the ground. He couldn't see Kikuro's face, but he could see Hajime's-contorted into fear and horror as he spouted apologizes and pleas. He almost wondered why he was apologizing so much before he was suddenly splashed in blood. He watched in mute shock as Kikuro carved into Hajime's face like a turkey, using a flick blade a little longer than Izaya's.

He's just being over protective, he told himself, he's doing just what a boyfriend would.

You mean murdering people? He's killing your classmate. Do boyfriends do that?

Shut up! It's not Kikuro's fault that Hajime couldn't keep it in his pants.

Or in his veins...there's blood all over your face, Izaya~ Does it taste good?

There was blood on his face, on his clothes and in his mouth, on the floor of the alleyway and on the brick walls. It was all over Kikuro as well, as he continued to tear into Hajime until he was nothing but bloody ribbons. Commonsense would be to run like crazy, to get away from the apparent psychopath, but Izaya hadn't heard the voice of his commonsense in a long time.

"T-Thank you" he breathed, inhaling Hajime's iron scented blood. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and watched Kikuro stand up with a haggard breath. "You're welcome" Kikuro smiled back, as if he had just been thanked for a complement and not for killing a student in cold blood, and went over and dropped his blue jacket over Izaya's shaking shoulders as he began to cry. It wasn't because he was scare, that the jacket was soaked through with blood, that something was clearly wrong with Kikuro, that nothing was normal...

He was crying because someone cared about him.

And he knew all to well what happened to the people who cared about him.

Kikuro carried Izaya bridal-style to his apartment in the Underground, the informant on brink of sleep and mumbling to Kikuro to pick the lock because he doesn't use a key. Kikuro doesn't ask questions, doesn't ask why he doesn't use a key, why he lives away from his "family", why Izaya's torso looks like he was scrubbed with a cheese grater.

When Izaya wakes he's more surprised that he slept free of nightmares for the first time in years than that Kikuro's in his apartment, sleeping next to him in his bed. He's happy that Kikuro seems to have changed into another set of clothes (the set of larger clothes that Shiki left in his apartment just in case he had any "guests" over), taken a shower too by the scent of shampoo wafting up from blonde locks. Any other person, any other time, he would be furious, scared, and horrified that someone was in his bed with him, and under the sheets no less. Perhaps if he had really thought about what had happened, remembered the fearful look on Hajime's face before he was killed, maybe he would have felt different, maybe another day.

Today was not that day.