A/N: Thanks for all the favourites, reviews, alerts and support I've received for this story. Special thanks to all those who have been with this from the beginning and have so patiently awaited updates. Apologies for those waiting for me to reply to reviews, I will get on it as soon as I have time! Enjoy!

Break You

Chapter 26

"You exhaust me," said Jun, glaring at Nene as she entered Ryo's apartment. "What happened to you?"

"My phone broke," said Nene.

"And the burner?"

"That broke too," Nene said, remembering how it simply refused to turn on after she'd extracted it from the unconscious Arata's mouth. It had taken her a few extra days to track down the rest of the hotel staff.

Rifling through one of the drawers, Jun took out a pink bedazzled phone and tossed it to Nene. "Take this one. She hasn't used it in months."

"Thanks."

"The dinner is tonight, Nene and I am not pleased."

Nene's gaze moved pointedly from Jun's unevenly buttoned blouse to the rumpled bedsheets lying on the floor by Ryo's bed and then back to Jun.

"Oh, very clever, Nene," said Jun, holding the collar of her shirt a little protectively.

"Do you still have that virus or did you get rid of it?" Nene asked, sitting down at the computer and opening up her emails. Three from her lecturers asking about her attendance, and about seventy chain-mails expressing that if she didn't forward it to at least seven billion people the chain an elderly woman's spirit, or a giant snake, or fate would come and strangle her, or eviscerate her or curse her with bad luck for the rest of her seven lives. All of them were from Izaya, operating under a multitude of email addresses, all set up to circumvent her spam filter. The level of dedication would have impressed her a week ago. Today, she could hardly stop herself from putting a fist through the screen.

"What? Which virus?"

"From the one that wanted your knickers as payment."

"I have it, yes, but how exactly is that relevant? Look, Nene, I'm getting a little tired of you going off on your own, we all are. The four of us are a team, and as a team, we have agreed that the mission comes first. The dinner is tonight and we haven't had any time to go over the plan."

"Where is it?" asked Nene, moving all of Izaya's emails to spam.

"What? The dinner?"

"The virus," said Nene, rubbing her temples as another email popped up in her inbox from sexc_kanra_88. It was a picture of a cat on a cheeseburger.

"It's pointless, isn't it?" said Jun, sighing. She walked over to the desk and unlocked the top drawer, selecting one of the floppy discs sitting in the tray inside. It had been labelled Alien Invasion. "May I ask what this is about?"

Nene shoved the disc into her rucksack and went over to the door.

"Will you at least be back in time for the dinner?" asked Jun, sounding anxious.

Nene's knuckles turned white around the door handle. "Yes."

With only three minutes left on her lunch break, Kimi was sprinting back to work. A girl who can run in heels, her mother used to say, was a girl who could run anywhere. Well, that was the plan.

Turning the corner onto the street Yagiri Pharmaceuticals was located, Kimi was almost knocked down by a blonde woman running just as fast in the opposite direction. She was about to swing round and give the rude cow a piece of her mind when she caught sight of her watch.

At the front gate, she was met with a flurry of activity. Teams of security guards were zipping in and out, heads bent over their shoulders, expressions grim and cement-like as they muttered into their radios. Kimi pressed her ID badge against the card reader and waited for the gate to open, managing to make it inside the building with thirty seconds to spare. Employees waddled around aimlessly about the foyer as if they were in dire need of a sheepdog while security guards moved in between the groups using portable card readers to scan ID badges. Dread settled over Kimi as she approached a group of girls from payroll.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"The system detected a virus and shut everything down," said one of the girls, hugging her arms. "It sounds like it came from an above level terminal."

"Shit," said Kimi. "Do they know which terminal?"

"That's what they're trying to find out now. It could have been an accident but," said the girl, biting her lower lip, "that's not going to matter."

"Well I for one look forward to seeing the traitor marched through these corridors," announced a voice. Kimi shuddered as Izanagi walked over and stood next to her, his arm brushing hers. He smelled like a newly bleached toilet bowl. "Wouldn't you agree, Toyoshima-san?"

A security guard walked over to their group and started scanning each of their ID badges. By the time he got to Kimi, her heart was pounding. She knew she had nothing to do with the attack on the computer systems, but an investigation was the last thing she needed right now, not when she was so close to getting out. The security guard scanned her ID badge and in one mad moment, she thought she saw the word TRAITOR flashing across the screen in bright red lights.

"You're free to go home for today, Toyoshima-san," said the security guard.

"Sorry?" Kimi said, and saw Izanagi bristle beside her.

"It will take a few days to reverse the lockdown procedures so for now there's nothing for you to do here."

"I don't understand, I thought that there was an internal investigation," said Kimi, mentally smacking herself in the head.

"The technicians determined that the virus was manually uploaded onto the system at half past twelve today," the security guard explained, making a note on his clipboard beside her name. "Those who were offsite at the time are required to go home. However, we would ask that you please keep your phone on and do not leave the city."

"Yagiri-san?" said Kimi, making a feeble show of concern for her boss.

"Is in lockdown and currently unavailable to speak with. We would ask that you exit the premises swiftly so as not to further hinder the investigation."

Nodding her head, too afraid to say another word for fear of reversing her good fortune, Kimi clutched her briefcase protectively in front of her and headed towards the exit. She heard the gutless pitter-patter of his footsteps come after her and sped up. She could almost sense his hand reaching for her. Pressing her badge against the reader, she shot out through the door. Kimi turned and looked at Izanagi standing at the transparent glass-door that had just locked into place. There was no triumph in her escape, she understood as she backed away watching his eyes growing darker and more furious with each step she took.

After she got out of the shower, Nene inspected the white cardboard box that had been left for her outside their room. Flinging off the lid and tugging away the reels of pink tissue paper, she lifted out the long black dress that had been folded neatly inside.

"Oh my god," said Inari, ogling it over her shoulder. "Who got that for you? It's gorgeous."

"You want it?" Nene asked, chucking it back in the box and holding it out to her.

"I couldn't-"

"Then I'm throwing it away," said Nene, moving towards the door.

"Oh, fine, if you insist," said Inari, snatching the box out of Nene's hands and scurrying guardedly over to her side of the room.

Nene picked up the card that had come with the package and without reading it, tossed it into the bin. Then she took out the smartest dress she owned, which happened to be grey like everything else she owned, and pulled it over her head. Shooting a quick look into the mirror, Nene saw a girl who could have easily been mistaken for a corpse staring back at her. Twice in the last week, she had jerked awake on a park bench with no memory of how she had gotten there. Clearly the lack of sleep was getting to her. Nene dabbed some makeup under her eyes to cover up the dark circles and combed her fingers through her wet hair in a haphazard attempt to make it look presentable.

"This will look great for my date with Nakura tomorrow night," Inari said, dancing in front of her mirror.

"How long's it been now?" Nene asked automatically as she slipped on a pair of grey heels. "Two months?"

"Since we met or since we started dating? Because two months since we met and six weeks since we started dating. Oooooh, check out what he got me for our anniversary," said Inari, sticking her wrist out. "He's going to have it engraved for me tomorrow."

Nene paused in the doorway, staring at the bronze bracelet dangling off Inari's wrist. Reaching into her handbag, Nene brought out a photo and handed it to her.

"That's Nakura, right?" asked Nene, an unreadable smile on her face.

Inari's face turned a mortified shade of red, the edges of the photo wrinkling in her grip as she stammered, "Y-you… what… why do you…? Nene, why do you have-"

"I'm not really supposed to show it to anyone," said Nene, rolling her eyes as if it was all a big joke. "Part of the agreement we have. But I figured you're his girlfriend. He wouldn't mind since you've seen it all before. Anyway, see you around, Ina-chan."

As Nene walked out of the room, the smile on her pale lips faded into nothing.

The cab her father had sent for her pulled up to the curb and Nene shrunk back into her seat. At the top of the huge gravel driveway filled with expensive cars, loomed one of the largest estates she had ever seen.

"Are you sure this is the right address?" Nene asked the cab driver, smoothing down the creases in her dress with the flat of her palm.

"You're Akiyama Nene, right?" said the driver. "This is where I was told to bring you."

Before she could say anything more, the door opened and a hand was stretched out to her.

"That's alright, driver-san, I'll take it from here," said Izaya.

Nene let him help her out of the cab. She saw that Izaya had swapped his casual attire for a black suit with a white button down shirt.

"You're not wearing the dress I sent you," said Izaya, looking pleased with this fact.

"I gave it to Inari," said Nene, walking ahead.

"Yeah, I just got a call from her," he said, rubbing his ear as if it was sore. "She says she won't be able to make it for our date tomorrow. She was quite distraught."

Nene felt her eye twitch and was glad to be walking in front of Izaya. "Maybe one of your psycho fangirls showed up to the room in a wedding dress and attacked her with a machete. How is our dear old Anzu?"

"Actually, Ina-chan accused me of cheating, and with you no less, Nene-chan," said Izaya. "Of course, any fool could see the way I look at you, but isn't this going to make your living situation a little awkward now, if you two are always fighting over me?"

"We'll manage somehow," she said. They walked up the driveway, Nene's eyebrows shooting into the air as she calculated the cost of each car in her head. "Crime really does pay, huh?"

"Isn't that your father's brand new Mercedes parked on the left?"

The doors were manned by two scary looking suits. Nene gave her name and with polite, albeit stiff nods, they opened the doors. The foyer was wide and extravagant with mahogany floors, a high white ceiling, and a spiralling baroque stairwell in the corner of the room. It was almost as grand as Kimi's childhood home and Nene felt a chill at the thought of who might own this house.

A young woman in a smart skirt suit materialised in front of them and took their coats, leading them into a spacious parlour. Inside, Nene experienced what could only be called an extreme pressure, an overwhelming and intrinsic force, like gravity, something that didn't just knock the wind out of her, but made her flesh tingle and the muscles in her thighs strain as if preparing to run. Something in this room was making her survival instincts go crazy.

With one cursory glance, she determined that there were at least thirty people in the room, including the children, three possible exits; the door they had just entered through, another that a man appeared to be guarding, and finally the window. She shifted closer to Izaya and his hand automatically moved to touch the small of her back. Against the hum of conversation, a young woman played classical music on a grand piano.

"Nene-chan!" squealed the voice of her stepmother.

Nene watched as a very pregnant Hinako tried unsuccessfully to draw herself up from the sofa until eventually a man with several scars across his face took pity and assisted her. She hobbled over to Nene and flung her arms around her neck, engulfing the girl in an uncomfortable hug that made her acutely aware of the baby bump.

"It's been too long," said Hinako. "You cut your hair. It suits you."

"Thank you. You look beautiful, Okaa-san."

And despite the extra pregnancy weight, Hinako did, dressed in a floor-length emerald green gown, which complemented the former dancer's height and made Nene feel a little self-conscious of her own cheap, and now that she thought about it, bland attire. A natural blonde on her father's side, Hinako's long hair fell in wisps over her shoulders and one got the distinct impression that she had been forged after the archetypal characters of the chivalric romances. It was clear that Nene and her father shared a type.

"Like father like daughter," muttered Izaya, reading her mind.

"Oh, Nene-chan, you're so cold," exclaimed Hinako, slapping her hands over Nene's cheeks and squeezing them. "Are you ill?"

"I'm fine-"

"Do you know how many people die of hypothermia each year?"

"Approximately four hundred," Nene responded automatically. From the corner of her eye, she saw Izaya's mouth quirk.

"And would you like to become a part of that statistic?" said Hinako, eyes widening as she yanked Nene's face closer to her own.

"It's not cold enough outside for me to become hypothermic," said Nene, pulling Hinako's hands away. "I think your hypochondria has been exacerbated by my baby brother or sister."

Hinako shook her head, as if expecting this response and turned to Izaya. "So stubborn, isn't she Izaya-kun?"

The smile on Izaya's face was positively angelic. "Wouldn't you agree, Hinako-san, that it's an admirable trait that both father and daughter share?"

"So true, so true," said Hinako, beaming.

Anyone with eyes could see the way her stepmother would light up when someone mentioned her husband. It was the main reason Nene had never been able to bring herself to hate the woman, hard though she had tried. The similarities between Hinako and Shizuo did not end at their appearance. Strength, thought Nene, and truth; the Akiyamas being naturally duplicitous, self-loathing creatures, were drawn to it like moths to a purifying light. It was their willed kryptonite.

"Well let me introduce you to everyone," said Hinako, sweeping Nene into a sideways hug and presenting her to the room. "I would like you all to meet my daughter Akiyama Nene. And some of you already know Orihara Izaya-kun."

Izaya bowed his head slightly, while Nene, restrained by the monstrous grip of the pregnant woman, could only bare her teeth in what she hoped was a deferential smile in the presence of some of the truly most dangerous people in Ikebukuro.

The lock-pick slid smoothly into place followed by a click, but before Ryo could push open the door, Jun placed a hand on his chest and looked pointedly at an almost indiscernible strip of paper jammed in the door.

"We knew he was a careful bastard," said Ryo. He pulled a Polaroid camera out of his rucksack and took a picture of it before swinging the door open. "To be honest, I was expecting something less obvious."

Jun plucked the paper from the ground. "As was I. Have you heard from her?"

"Called me about fifteen minutes ago to say she had gotten in safely."

"Are you okay with this?" Jun asked with all the concern of someone who knew she should be concerned but wasn't. "I know how protective you are of her."

"Nope, but Nene hasn't steered us wrong so far."

Entering, Ryo proceeded to take pictures of the rest of the room. They knew that if they allowed Izaya even the slightest opportunity for suspicion their plan would fall through.

Jun shut the door behind her and walked a little way inside. As expected it was uncluttered to the point of sterility, but on further inspection, she could see that every single object in the room had been hand chose by Izaya for its aesthetic austerity and lofty price tag. She brushed a hand over the black sheets covering his bed, guessing that it was Egyptian cotton and from the smooth texture, the thread count north of one thousand. She wondered how many others had felt the softness of these and withdrew her hand.

"Sweep the room for bugs. Start with the flowers on the nightstand," Jun said loudly, going over to Izaya's desk, and switching his computer on.

A password protected login screen appeared, but Jun being prepared for this pulled out a small black box from her rucksack and plugged it in. Up popped a window, lines of code running down it at lightning speed.

Ryo glided the wand over the plastic flowers, a high-pitched whine emitting from it. "Yep, looks like a camera. Right next to his bed. Sick fuck."

"Bring it over. I'll need to erase the feed. There'll be more, I'm guessing in the bathroom too. Check the cistern."

"Right again," Ryo called from the adjoining bathroom. "You have Orihara ESP or what?"

Jun stopped typing and glanced up at Ryo as he came back into the bedroom.

"Does it bother you?" she asked.

"We've all done things we're not proud of," said Ryo, dispensing the rest of the bugs onto the desk. He didn't meet her eyes.

While Jun worked on the laptop, Ryo explored the rest of the room for any incriminating evidence, making his way through the cupboards and bookshelves, carefully replacing each item. Nothing in particular caught his eye until he opened a book and found a note tucked inside.

Underneath is my first step away from cowardice. Be proud that you were my inspiration.

The handwriting looked familiar. Ryo read the title of the book, The Art of War by Sun Tzu and then looked back to check the name of the chapter where he had found the note; Waging War. What a creepy bastard, thought Ryo, feeling uneasy as he realised whose handwriting it was. Placing the note and book carefully back in the bookshelf, he made a mental note to have a word with Nene about it later.

"I'm in," said Jun, her eyes fixed excitedly on the screen.

As far as awkward evenings went, being introduced to members of the underworld by her pregnant stepmother was fast making it into Nene's top ten, and she had once spent an evening at karaoke with Shizuo. Watching Hinako navigate laughingly through such deep, dark waters, naively slapping the shoulders of scarred men without a care in the world should have made Nene feel safe, but it only made her more apprehensive of the false sense of security wrapped paper-thin around her and her family.

"Ah, I know it's none of my business," Hinako whispered conspiratorially to Nene when they were alone on the sofa, "but you and Izaya-kun aren't seeing each other, are you?"

Nene glanced at her stepmother and was surprised to see a worried crease between her eyebrows. "No… definitely not."

"That's a relief," said Hinako, letting out a deep breath.

"Pardon?"

"Oh, not to say that Izaya-kun isn't wonderful, he is, but you know, it's not quite all there, is it?" Hinako said, tapping her forehead suggestively.

Nene blinked at her stepmother's startling display of intuition. "You could say that again."

On the other side of the room, Izaya was having words with a bald man, looking remarkably at peace with his surroundings. His eyes met Nene's but other than the slight smirk as he sipped from his wine, he never broke character.

"Who's Izaya speaking to?" said Nene, wanting to change the subject.

"Oh, that's Kine." At Nene's blank expression, Hinako continued, overjoyed at having something to share with her estranged stepdaughter. "Oh, well, I'm not too sure, but he's an executive, a pretty important one. I think Izaya-kun and he work closely together, but you'll have to ask your father about that when he comes out. He knows more about that stuff."

"What do you think they're talking about in there? Otou-san and the others?"

"No idea. All that gangster talk gives me the creeps," said Hinako, lowering her voice again. "But don't let them catch you saying gangster or yakuza; they take offence to that, you know. Who would have thought criminals would be so sensitive."

"I didn't think Otou-san was important enough for gangster talk," said Nene, frowning.

Hinako giggled. "Don't let him catch you saying that either. His ego wouldn't be able to handle it. You know how he is. Otou-san gets along with everyone, so even if he is just a lowly accountant the boss still thinks quite highly of his opinion."

"He is still just a lowly accountant, right?" asked Nene, regretting the question as soon as it left her mouth.

"You have nothing to worry about, Nene-chan," said Hinako, squeezing her hand. "The people here, they may look scary and a lot of the time they are really, really scary -I mean in the last year I've gone through about forty inhalers- but you might find that they can also be very kind."

Nene eyed a man in the corner of the room who had not cared to conceal his gun very well and found it very difficult to believe Hinako.

Hinako smiled softly. "Don't get me wrong, adjusting to this lifestyle has been difficult. Sometimes I have to remind myself that there are shades of grey and that makes it a little easier. Anyway," she said, clapping her hands together. "I am so very glad you decided to come tonight, Nene-chan. And your father is too. We've missed you."

Embarrassed by her stepmother's words in light of her motives for coming here, Nene polished off her glass of wine and excused herself to get another.

The oak bar installed in the corner of the room was unmanned so people were free to prepare their own drinks. Grabbing the first bottle of red wine she saw, she uncorked it and poured herself another glass.

"Easy does it."

"I never thought of you as the expostulating type, Izaya-kun," said Nene.

"I could never forgive myself if you lost control over that tightly wound personality of yours and said something that you might regret," said Izaya, taking the bottle and pouring some for himself. "Or did."

"Trying to sound ominous, huh?"

"Only as a good friend would."

"Oh, shut up."

Izaya raised his eyebrows.

"Wow, this is really bugging you," he said, drawing close so that only the two of them could hear. "All that righteous indignation wasn't just an act. You really do think you're better than these people."

Nene smiled over the lip of her wineglass and stared ahead. "Just you."

"Denial is the most empowering form of flattery," said Izaya. And she could tell he was willing her to look at him. It was one of his pet peeves, when people refused to look him in the eye like this, not out of fear, because obviously he revelled in that, but out of disregard. "The more you fight it, the stronger the power of the denied becomes, until it lords over you."

"Like a god."

"Exactly."

"Gods die," said Nene, looking him in the eye, if just to make him feel a little more in control. "Eventually, denial becomes disbelief and they stop existing. Like the bogeyman, or the monster in the closet. Gods die, Izaya, and your time will come."

Though they were keeping a polite distance in light of all the people, Nene was starting to remember what it felt like to be alone with Izaya.

"Now who's trying to sound ominous?"

She knew that if she wasn't careful, she might end up saying something that would tip him off. "Just wishful thinking."

"Do you really hate me that much?"

Nene felt her throat tighten. The look on his face was unsmiling, devoid of all of those ill intentions that so often sculpted his features, but this was Izaya, she reminded herself; in order to play his game she had to be twice as good.

"If I said yes?"

He grinned. "I'd say Nene-chan is a big fat liar."

There was a loud trill of notes as the pianist launched into a beautiful rendition of Concerto 21 at the request of one of the guests, who had been shocked to learn that Hinako had never even heard of Mozart. What, had she been raised in a barn, was the consensus as everyone in the room turned to watch the performance.

Nene reached up and lightly patted his cheek. "Now that's wishful thinking."

Reaching for the bottle of wine again, Nene tried to ignore the way he was watching her every move. She could tell that Izaya would have liked nothing more than for her to drink herself stupid, offend a prominent member of the yakuza, and get shot in the face just so that he could get a laugh out of it, but she couldn't let him catch on to her true intentions. Already she was finding it incredibly difficult to operate with the atmosphere. Sweet disarming stepmother or no, yakuza territory was dark territory, the Mariana Trench of the criminal world and Nene and her sensible grey dress, which was starting to cling to her back with sweat, were nothing but plankton.

Before she could start on her fourth glass, Izaya placed his hand over the top and brought it back down against the counter.

"Maybe this was a mistake," said Izaya, his tone infuriatingly patronising. "You're not equipped to handle this after all. But it's good to know that you're still my same old, cowardly Nene-chan."

"So I'm yours now?" Nene asked him, wrapping a hand around his tie and tugging him closer. She dropped her voice to a whisper so he had to concentrate to hear her. "I thought you said I was all dried up. That I wasn't worthy of anybody."

"Even mongrels deserve a scrap of affection on occasion."

The pianist had moved onto another one of Mozart's pieces and the others remained faithfully absorbed.

"Let go of the glass, Izaya."

"Spoken like a budding alcoholic. By the way, how is Kimi-san? Or has she slipped through the cracks like everything else in your life?"

There was a sharp creaking sound. Beneath Nene's hand, the glass had split up the side.

"This is new," said Izaya, sliding the hand on the glass over hers and peeling it away. Blood trickled from a paper-thin cut on her palm and Izaya stopped it with the handkerchief he produced from his jacket. "What's next? Are you going to rip out the bar and throw it at me?"

She had turned white as a sheet. "Don't tempt me."

Just as the pianist completed an exceptional rendition of Requiem to a flurry of polite applause, the door that was being guarded opened and several important looking men came out, and also her not so important father. As Nene watched everyone turn to bow to the leader of the Awakusu-Kai, it was getting harder and harder for her to convince herself that she was still walking the line.

"It's done," Jun said, zipping up her rucksack and spinning round. "Was she successful?"

Ryo was checking his phone. After a moment, he gave her the thumbs up.

"I guess now all we have to do is wait."

There was a knock on the door. They held their breath.

Nene flipped the ugly pink phone shut and tucked it into her handbag, glancing at Izaya's back as he attempted to hail a taxicab outside the restaurant. On the wall next to her an old man smelling strongly of baked goods despite appearing quite homeless, had been attempting to sell some weed to passers-by and was currently regaling her with a number of conspiracy theories that, in her boredom, were starting to make sense.

Earlier that night, the yakuza themed dinner had taken an abrupt turn when the butler-she was still trying to wrap her head around that one- came into the dining room midway through their starters and presented Awakusu Dougen-sama with a note. For Nene the sequence of events up until that point had seemed bizarre enough without the butler waltzing in with a silver tray, and suddenly she found herself along with all the other guests being shepherded back into the entrance hall by the smart woman in the skirt suit who assured them that the hosts were deeply regretful and hoped that they would be forgiven for such unconscionable rudeness. Hinako kindly offered to arrange a driver to take Nene home and, seeing that she was wobbling a wee bit on her heels, asked that Izaya accompany her.

"I'd be happy to," Izaya had said.

There had been absolute silence in the cab until halfway through their journey when Nene had loudly declared that she was still hungry and on Izaya's request, the driver had taken a detour to a fancy French restaurant not far from his halls. There she had had two more glasses of wine, talked at length about how much she disliked the taste of wine, and then had some more. By the end of their meal, she appeared well and truly off her face and Izaya had to prop her up against the wall outside the restaurant while he went in search for a cab. And that's how she had ended up in the acquaintance of Z-man.

"Everywhere we go, they're listening," Z-man said, sniffing the air like he could smell the electronic currents frying his brain. "None of our information is secure. We're all being uploaded."

"With technology accelerating at the rate it is, I wouldn't be surprised," said Nene, slipping on her investigative hat. "Did you know that by 2015 over one third of the population is expected to have wireless access to the internet on their phones? Imagine how vulnerable everyone's privacy will be then. My partner and I did a piece on it last year."

"Hey, you sober up pretty fast, huh?" said Z-man, giving her a suspicious once over. "Five minutes ago that boyfriend of yours was practically carrying you out the restaurant."

Nene's face darkened momentarily at the word boyfriend, but then the clouds dispersed and she looked bored once more. "Got to let them think they're in control," she said, smiling tersely at Z-man. "Men and their egos, always needing to play the hero. Am I right?"

"Uh, I suppose," Z-man said, scratching his head and then his chest and then his head again. "Not me though. I don't go in for that stuff."

"Because you see things the way they are."

"Someone has to stand up for the truth, and I figure they don't want to upload someone who's not in with their thinking, an anomaly if you will," Z-man said, folding his arms smugly across his chest. "I'd mess their system right up."

"And the world would welcome it," said Nene, shooting her new friend a meaningful smile as Izaya headed towards them. "It was a pleasure, Z-man."

"Take care of yourself, Lisa."

Nene slipped back into her role of the drunken reveller, slumping against the wall and making her legs as wobbly as possible so that Izaya would have to hold her up. Truth was, Nene had built up an exceptionally high tolerance for alcohol. If you can't throw a straight punch after six shots, Ryo would say, you're a piece of shit and should go home. Nene too had been expecting some profound bit of wisdom, but she couldn't deny his logic. Being able to drink without getting drunk made it a lot easier to blend in.

"You made a friend," Izaya remarked as he steered her down a side road.

"Are you jealous because I have more friends than you do?" Nene teased.

See if Nene had been as drunk as she had appeared to be she might have missed the way his eyes narrowed and his mouth settled into a hard smile. But she didn't and as they walked between the ugly squat houses and lanky flats packed shoddily together like uneven box files in a cramped storage unit, she began to feel uneasy. A group of young women pushed past them, giggling as they turned into a driveway decorated with balloons and empty beer cans. The door opened injecting music and revelry into the silent street and the girls disappeared inside, shutting the door behind them and taking the sound with them.

"Did you park the cab in Narnia?" Nene asked.

"I couldn't find a cab. Don't worry, my halls aren't far from here," Izaya said, his eyes glinting like he was in on a very clever joke. "Who knows, maybe we'll run into someone you know."

Relief washed over Nene and she untangled herself from Izaya, who stared at her with a mixture of amusement and repulsion.

"Breaking character so soon," he said.

Nene took out the ugly pink phone and began dialling.

"If you're calling to warn Jun-chan and Ryo-kun, I've already had the security guard escort them from the premises and confiscate everything in their possession," Izaya asked. There was disdain in his smirk. He was very disappointed in her, so disappointed that it irritated him. Nene held the phone up to her ear, her eyes blank as she stared at the wall behind him. "Tell me, should I smash all that fancy computer equipment with a sledgehammer or a meat cleaver?"

Nene met Izaya's eyes and smiled a terrible smile.

"Hello, Anzu. Did you get everything?"

And for the next few moments all anyone with the bad luck of being on that street could hear was the hysterical laughter of a mad man, who had for the first time in his life, been beaten.

Author's Note:

Does the Anzu reveal make sense? I tried to make it as subtle as possible but still make sense.

Following suit from the last update, I am again not sure what to say without giving things away, but I always love to hear theories so please drop me a PM when you can. I like being unpredictable, but not so unpredictable that I've basically been setting up a plot that makes no sense! I'm not in love with this chapter, especially stylistically so if anyone has any comments on that please let me know. Oh! I have just finished reading the entirety of A Series of Unfortunate Events by the way! The man is a genius, so well written, especially the dark, grief related bits, which hopefully I have learned from. Next chapter is not written up (I ran out of my buffer), so may take even longer, sorry!