Shinra had decided to come up to the rooftop to gaze out at the sky that night. He had his elbows resting on the railings while staring outward with nothing in particular on his mind. It was cold out, and so he felt the crisp air on his cheeks, chilling him through his clothes. His lab coat flapped in the breeze that came, wisps of hair flickering over his forehead.
In the corner of his eyes, there was a shadow, and when he slid a peek of the person beside him, he let out a small, irritated sigh.
"So it's you."
"It's me."
The voice was barely audible in the wind tickling their scalps.
Izaya was slumped over the rails, looking down rather than up.
"Wasn't expecting you to drop by." Shinra says. He sounds a little angry, but he can't say why. His grip is loose as he lowers his gaze, tired of counting stars in the sky.
"Mr. Not Lonely. Mr. I'm Never Sad," he teases, though says it more so under his breath, his tone not too playful. He didn't really care how the other felt or of the fact that Izaya tended to hide how he truly did. He was just being mean.
Izaya doesn't say anything. Instead, he grabs hold of the railing and starts sliding his body forward as might a juvenile do on stairwells or playground equipment.
By the time Shinra actually looks at him, Izaya's head is almost level with his ankles. His feet are securely tucked under the rails, but Shinra's heart has already shot out of his chest, only taking notice of what looks Izaya about to fall over—
"Izaya—!"
The position makes him nauseous, but Shinra also doesn't remember getting into it. He remembers grabbing the back of Izaya's jacket to yank him up, but now he's staring at a world below he's never really bothered to pay attention to. The bustle of people that look like ants and the city lights gorgeous yet jarring have snatched his gaze. Before, the traffic below was just a white noise he was used to and now he hears it–all of it–the roar of the city, the sound of Ikebukuro.
Shinra is only pulled back into the present when he notices he's slipping
and slipping
and slipping
...until his glasses slide right off his face; falling fast towards the ground until he can't make them out anymore.
With a strength he didn't know he had, the underground doctor suddenly pulled himself up, sucking in a harsh breath.
"Are you okay?!"
Shinra expects to hear Izaya's voice, but to his surprise, it's his own. Heart racing, his eyes dart around frantically to find no one else around.
No Izaya, no fur-lined coat that Shinra could have sworn had been grasped tightly in his hands seconds ago.
Shinra realizes he had been talking to himself. Perhaps, imagining a ghost.