"Shizu-kun~!" Mimiko grinned. Said blonde twitched in irritation at the nickname. It was way too close to 'Shizu-chan' for his liking. Besides, how hard was it to simply say Shizuo instead?
The duration of a week had past since he last saw Reika. Something twisted in his chest when he remembered her face. Her shocked face when she realized there was another woman. He hadn't seen the flea either. Those two were probably together then - he thought grimly.
Picturing the flea with his arms wrapped around Reika and kissing her feverishly caused him to walk towards a vending machine and recklessly toss it three blocks down the street. He was panting angrily, ignoring Mimiko as she placed a hand on his forearm carefully.
"S-Shizu-kun.." She mumbled, trying to soothe him. It didn't work. It only pissed him off more.
She had currently asked him to bring her out on a date. Not really sure what to expect, he had brought her to Russian Sushi. It was inexplicably awkward for him. Reika had never demanded a date from him. She never expected anything from him. She also didn't talk every second. And she didn't give him contained horrified glances when he lost control.
He sighed in aggravation. Why the hell was he still with this woman if she annoyed the hell out of him? She almost reminded him of the flea. Any minute he was going to loose control again if she kept yapping.
Hearing her nag him about throwing street furniture was really grating on his ears. Damn. Did she have an off button? He was slowly loosing it. His fingers were reaching another vending machine to hurl when he caught a glimpse of wavy brown hair.
Reika?
False alarm. The woman with the similar hair turned and he discovered it was a woman in her 50s. He almost cringed, though stopped when he realized something. He wasn't mad anymore. He looked to his side to see Mimiko had paused to assess him. He sighed, long and deep. Without another word, he stalked off in another direction.
"Where are you going?" She called after him.
"Home." He grumbled. They hadn't even reached the front door of Russian Sushi before his ears started ringing. He just needed to go home and have a cigarette.
When he reached the low-rise building, he glanced at her door. Only when a gust of wind chilled him did he realize he was staring at it.
Should he knock? Just to see how she was doing?
His throat felt dry. No he shouldn't. He should just get on with his life, quick and easy. He cursed when he couldn't find the will to move. He wanted to see her, that part was true, yet what would he do if Izaya answered? What would he say to her? He'd look like an idiot. No doubt. Yet, a small part of him wanted to see her one last time. He knew he wasn't obligated, but he wanted to explain to her that he was going to break up with that noisy woman. They should at least be on friendly terms, right?
He inwardly groaned when his fist pounded on the door. It was just a burst of a trice when he quickly decided that he was going to see her.
He waited.
No answer.
Biting his tongue, he knocked again.
Still no answer.
He knew he should have just left, but he knocked again and waited. Impatience started to nibbled at his resolve slowly. Before he could stop himself, he jiggled the knob and was surprised to find it open. Gulping almost nervously, he pushed the door open gently.
His heart dropped.
"Oi." He called, as if to make sure that it was just an illusion. Quietly, he stepped into the small apartment. Not bothering to take off his shoes or close the door, he walked in. He looked around the living room. Empty. He looked to the kitchen. Empty. He swallowed the lump in his throat when he check her room. Empty. No furniture, no Reika.
He felt something prickling his sight when he re-entered the living room. Everything was cleaned. The room smelt of fresh paint. He looked around and he found that the walls were in fact coated in a fresh layer of paint. The color was a warm peach that flared his nostrils in the strong scent. He looked down to see a new carpet installed. In was a snow white, and he smile for a moment. Surely she did not move. Maybe she just had the place renovated? Can she even afford that? His question was answered when a voice had cleared their throat. Blinking, Shizuo looked over to see a short, stubby man. A pleasant face under a short scruff of gray hair and a kind smile on his chapped lips.
"Hello," He greeted. "May I help you?"
"Where's Reika?" He asked in a flat voice.
"Reika?" The man repeated in confusion. "Ah, may you be speaking of the former tenant that lived here?"
"She still lives here." Shizuo narrowed his eyes.
"I'm afraid that's wrong." The man smiled good-naturedly. "I so happen to be the new tenant. My name is Takashi Jirou." He introduced, that calm smile never wavering.