The crack and crash of wood resounded deep within him, and yet he felt numb from it. There was a slight tremor working its way up and down his arms. He tried to keep his fists flat at his sides, but even that was difficult.

...shit.

The moment he saw those cigarettes, a great need filled him- a sudden emptiness. He wanted that initial inhale badly, feel the smoke pass deep along his throat and expand his lungs full and long before spilling out. That kind of normalcy he craved. It would relax him. He only wanted to be calm again.

But now those cigarettes were crushed and embedded in the bark, and he couldn't take it back. He felt unstable. He was unstable as his body refused to calm down. He stared at the crumpled carton and craved them with every breath. Anger fought for his control, and he had no one to be angry at but himself.

He could have smoked those cigarettes easily—fuck, he still wanted to fish them out of the bark— but having watched Izaya turn away made him so fucking pissed he couldn't have smoked them without being sick and disgusted.

His fists wouldn't unclench, they were tempted to force their way through more bark. Something light, a graze of fingertips, touched his upper arm, and Shizuo recoiled back violently. Expecting judgment and disappointment, like he had seen so often in his life, Shizuo at first didn't realize that wasn't Izaya's intention at all.

When Izaya touched his arm, lower this time, Shizuo didn't step away. How could he look...calm? Unaffected, like he had no idea how easy it would be for Shizuo to lose his slipping control: crunching bone and muscle like a rabid creature. Izaya shouldn't be touching him at all if he knew what he'd done.

"You got a splinter," Izaya said and pulled a piece of wood from the back of his hand. "See." He brought it close enough to his face that he had to cross his eyes to see the tiny shard no wider than a hair.

What? Who the fuck cared about a fricken...oh.

Finally, his fists came undone and he breathed in and out.

"Sorry." He mumbled.

Izaya flicked the splinter away. "It's fine. You should probably apologize to Henri though. Those were his."

He hadn't been sorry about that and Shizuo frowned, though he didn't know what else to do. When he reached down and pried the cigarettes out, he crushed the box even more. Henri had backed up considerably, and Shizuo found him sitting on a rock.

"Here. Thanks." He tossed them over to his lap, pieces of wood included. The box came undone and the cigarettes were ruined and spilling tobacco.

"No problem," Henri said and Shizuo didn't miss the nervous way he handled the spilling pieces.

There were eyes watching him as he went back to the river and rinsed his face. It annoyed him, except he didn't want to get pissed so soon after taking the edge off his temper. He closed his eyes as more water passed over his face. Sunlight delved to the pebbly creek floor, illuminating the clear water and dancing on the surface as the creek flowed pleasantly by.

Around them, the forest was a buzz of insects, the sashay of branches, and an occasional stirring of birds. No one tried to bring out a conversation at first. It was while they were setting out once more alongside the creek, that Henri began to speak in hushed tones to the Russian guy. Shizuo was about to yell at them to shut up, but at the last moment, he held his tongue. Being pissed off at them would only piss him off more. He narrowed his eyes as he made sure that everyone was in his line of sight, Izaya especially.

Tree branches rattled noisily in the distance as if an animal was swinging from a branch. They slowed.

Izaya said something in Russian. The other guy responded before slinking through the trees. It took him half a minute before he came back and told Izaya what he found.

"A man is caught in a net?" Izaya said in English. "Hmm. Okay. Then let's check it out. Hey, Shizu-chan."

"Yeah, I heard."

"Okay...I'm surprised that you actually remember some English from school. I would have thought you'd forget it all."

"Don't be annoying. I understood about half of what you said."

"Half, huh? That's pretty good."

He was beginning to comprehend the shimmer of annoyance through him- that Izaya had said what was ahead, in English, to everyone else before him. Shizuo frowned but didn't respond. It wasn't helping him calm down.

The net was reasonably high over their heads, and it was impossible not to be reminded of the time he and Izaya had been stuck in a net and Izaya had been annoying as hell and struggling against him.

Izaya was looking at the ground, and yeah, Shizuo remembered those shitty spears as well.

The swaying stopped as the man stilled when he saw them. He gripped the net hard, fingers and nails obviously dirty.

"Hallo..."

Was that even English?

"Können Sie mich bitte herunter lassen? Ich möchte Ihnen keine Probleme bereiten. Ach...sorry. Can you please help me? I think I'm stuck in this tree."

"Are you sure you want to come down?" Izaya asked. "It might be an unpleasant landing."

Izaya reached for a stick before jabbing it into the ground and letting the earth crumble to reveal those sharp shit stained sticks. The vines stilled as the man peered down through the net.

"You're not one of those men from the boat, right?"

"The boat?"

"Ja, boat. They hit me and sent me here. Hey! You don't have a collar. And you!" The man pointed at Izaya first then him.

"That's right. And if you behave, I'll tell you how to take yours off as well. So we'll help you get down now."

Shizuo really didn't feel like helping this man down. If it were up to him, he'd leave him there, 'cause it wasn't his problem. But he knew that wasn't whatever Izaya's plan was so Shizuo got the man down in one heavily bruised piece by kicking and breaking the tree.

He fell in a loud heap and groaned loudly. "Oh mein Gott!"

"Thank you, Shizu-chan."

"Hnn."

He was still struggling within the vines, trying to break them apart without any real success. Shizuo tore the biggest one in half and the man was able to weasel out. Standing now, half slouched in pain, he looked years older and very much breakable. He carefully sat atop the fallen tree and wiped along his neck and face with a yellow towel.

"Thank you, you're very strong." He had a hard cased canteen with him, green like a turtle shell, that he unscrewed and brought to his thin lips. He took generous gulps and sighed loudly when he detached it from his mouth.

"So, this boat. Could you tell me more about it?" Izaya asked.

"I can." Again he wiped his sweaty face. The back of his hair was dark and oily with crusted ends, and it became obvious that it was from dried blood. "You see...I'm a journalist, well ah, I write articles and there was some talk about a cursed island. Things like 'travelers disappearing', boats sinking, angry ghosts. So I thought I would make a good story. And I went pretty far on my motor boat when I see a boat with a helicopter. It wasn't so big. Maybe the same size of a yacht. I tried to go around, but it went close to me and stopped me like this–"

He put his hands together and raised his voice in a command. "'Turn around now. No trespassing on private waters.' It got me thinking that these people knew what was happening here and I asked. I probably should have realized something because they came after me quickly and knocked me out. Woke up on the shore with this." He pointed to his neck. "Almost got a heart attack."

Shizuo didn't bother listening all too closely because following the conversation was giving him a headache. All he understood was that the guy was on vacation and for some reason was here now.

He had a goofy smile and Shizuo didn't like his grinning. His pockets looked full and each time he ran his hand over his arm, Shizuo thought it was getting closer to whatever was in that pocket. He had a bag of some kind, too.

"Hey!" He interrupted whatever Izaya was saying. "What's in your pockets?"

The man stared at him blankly before Izaya translated for him. "He asked you what you have with you."

As if just realizing that he had pockets and things, he cursed and checked the square shaped bag that he had over his shoulder. "My camera!"

It was one of those black expensive ones with the huge attachable lens. "Ah, the screen cracked." He fiddled with it and snapped a quick photo before checking it with dirt-creased hands.

"Do you have a picture of the boat?"

It was such a soft noise he didn't think anything of it.

"I did, but it was missing when—"

Izaya jerked back suddenly and where he had stood, a spinning blade went by and embedded in the calf of the man they had first found. He doubled over in agony, the blood spilling down his pajama pants.

Partially concealed by a cluster of ferns and rocks was a man with a crude wooden mask and a curved machete. His clothes were a mess covered in caking mud and ferns. He posed to strike once more.

Shizuo reacted without a second thought. He didn't have the time to feel the anger as it washed over him and fueled his reckless movements. A machete was thrown at his chest and he blocked it with the metal case in his hands. He threw the case hard enough to break bones.

"YOU ASSHOLE!"

A strangled scream came from behind him. He looked back, and the same masked man with mud and blades was atop a rock, throwing curved knives with effortless ease. Already the man who had been caught in the net was on his side. A black handle at home in his chest.

How the fuck did that man get there so fast?

Where he had thrown the case was where the man slumped on the ground, mask askew and jaw hanging loose. Served him right.

Shizuo reached for a young looking tree and quickly yanked it free, roots included. The second masked man had gotten down from the rock and was fighting Izaya. The knife would come close to cutting skin, but Izaya was quicker as he dodged the blades from both hands.

The man jumped back and threw a long knife at someone else, but Izaya threw his own knife and set the projectile off course. But now that this man was a few feet from Izaya, Shizuo launched the tree.

The man escaped as he jumped over a boulder and disappeared behind the foliage. That anger hadn't left him. It had only grown into something ugly. If Izaya hadn't moved when he had...

Shizuo got on that rock in one leap. The rock crumbled under his fingers.

That fucker was going to die.

He was just about ready to follow that guy through the trees when he thought he heard his name. He jumped down anyway, far too angry to think about anything more.

"Don't!"

The words were oddly muted.

He breathed in deeply and it tasted like shit. Run, run, run. That asshole could run as much as he wanted, but it would not save him.

He was so sick to his stomach he could vomit if he wasn't empty.

"Shizu-chan!"

Shizuo was already running when he slowed. The guy couldn't have gone far.

"Get back here, you idiot!"

With fleeting clarity, he stopped and looked over his shoulder. Where he had climbed was surprisingly far.

That had been Izaya.

He was livid with anger, but leaving to chase an idiot through the forest was probably the worst thing he could do. If he left Izaya alone with those fuckers...ah, fuck.

The boulder was under his hands in seconds and he dropped down.

Izaya saw him and he was fine. The others were trying to stop the blood from one of the Chinese men whose name he couldn't remember. The other man was already dead, the knife not yet extracted from his chest. Blood continued to seep from his front.

Shizuo wasn't sure if the first asshole who attacked them was dead or not. He found him lying on his side shallowly breathing. His jaw had indeed disconnected and was at an odd angle. He could have kicked him across the island or thrown him far enough into the sea. Hell, he should do any number of worse things, but it wouldn't mean anything if the man was already unconscious.

Shizuo took the knife and now dented metal case. He checked the contents inside and luckily the foam had kept the vials from breaking.

Krillin, or whatever the guy's name was, sewed the bloody skin flaps together while Henri lifted the man's leg. Cloth was tied tight below the knee to staunch the flow of blood.

There were pain filled gasps and words he could not understand but were probably curses in Mandarin. His skin was blanched where it wasn't slick with blood. But then again, all the men looked pale– that other Chinese guy especially as he sat with his head to his knees against a tree.

Jeez, it didn't look that bad.

Shizuo walked closer to Izaya who was keeping watch and scanning the trees. There was a chance that the masked man had circled around and was coming back for the other guy.

"There aren't so many supplies in there." It wasn't a question so Shizuo didn't bother answering. "A day's worth left if it's stretched. Can you open the case for me?"

Shizuo did. When Izaya took out a single sterile roll and the plastic container of saline solution, Shizuo didn't think it was worth it to hand over that dressing or let the liquid pass over the wound and tip closer to empty as it sloshed back closed. He didn't say anything because he didn't trust himself not to snap.

But Izaya seemed to read him by his posture. "A day more is all we need. We've already overstayed our welcome."

He ended up snappish anyway. "Our welcome?"

"Yeah," Izaya grinned like there was something humorous when really there wasn't anything fucking funny. "They'll realize it soon enough."

Izaya went over to the other body and reached for the beige bag that was seeping with blood. He maneuvered it free from the knife and heavy arm before slipping it over his own neck. The color was a close match to his sleeves and just as unfashionable. He took out the expensive sleek camera, looked through the lens, and adjusted it. A long crack was visible through the lens.

He brought it down and they both noticed a piece of plastic dangling from the strap. It was a small plastic name tag attached to it.

"Huppen Ziegler." Izaya read aloud and snapped a picture of the dead man before checking the image on the cracked screen and putting the camera away. He seemed to be thinking. "Oh, yeah." He nodded, "Entschuldigung."

Izaya grasped the handle and pulled. Blood gushed out, splattering. He cleaned the blade as he said, "it's really too bad that he died. He seemed nice, precisely the kind of nice that would have gotten him killed here quickly. He probably knew more, too..."

There was that gleam in his eyes, the same that Shizuo had seen so often it could turn his mood sour and angry in an instant. He used to hate that look. Despise it with a crushing intensity. But now as Izaya turned and looked from over his shoulder with that same cunning gleam and grin, Shizuo didn't feel any hate at all. He almost didn't catch what Izaya said.

"But he told us well enough."

Thank you for all of your thoughts and support. Until next time~

Also, I got help with the German from my Austrian friend. What he said in English is not a direct translation of what he said in German.