Izaya woke to the smell of smoke and shouts. He crawled outside his tent and, in his hurry to understand what was happening, he left his beloved coat behind.
Red eyes widened in disbelief at the sheer magnitude of his mistakes in predicting their enemy's moves. Human torches' screams muffled the sound of shootings and the fire crackle. The air was irrespirable, thick with smoke and stinking of burned skin and gunpowder. His stomach lurched, and he instinctively covered his mouth with his hand. Many tents were in flame; his comrades were running for dear life, shouting their heads off like mad men, and corpses had started to litter the soil.
With the corner of the eye, he spotted a pair of men equipped with rifles. Izaya recognized their uniforms, they were enemies, and they were running in his direction.
His neurons finally transmitted to his limbs the impulse to turn and run like hell. But he wasn't stupid at all, he knew he was like a hunted hare that had started running just one moment too late to save his life. The burning pain he was expecting arrived soon, and increased at light speed until it become so unbearable it left him gasping for air.
His left knee had been hit.
The world started spinning, and he found himself falling on the ground. Before he lost consciousness, he saw the fire approaching, fast and inescapable. But no, Izaya refused to die in this painful and solitary way, bleeding to death or engulfed by flames. More than pain, he felt fear; he dreaded the unavoidability of becoming nothing in matter of seconds.
His thoughts floated in a limbo of black warmth and, even if he didn't know where his body was, he knew he still existed. Somehow, fire hadn't been his executioner, and neither had the bullet. Or, at least, not yet. Otherwise, he thought, perhaps his body had burned but his soul had not.
He discarded the idea as soon as the awareness of his own body began rejoining his conscience. The reintroduction of what lay outside his soul started with a sense of discomfort that soon become the excruciating, unbearable pain of fire eating his flesh. But, at least, the links his brain shared with his limbs had been reactivated, returning to him his senses.
Now, he could touch the warmth enveloping him, smell it, and see where his body lay. His nostrils were filled by a musky, but at the same time sweet, smell, and... sweat? Under his fingertips, there was the texture of cloth, slightly wet, which was the source of the hot sensation he felt even through the fog of his unconsciousness. The skin on his left temple and cheek, too, could sense it. He still did not have full control over his body, so his satisfying his curiosity and sating the need to sense more of that warmth remained unfulfilled. However, he could perceive a wide wave motion cradling him; it was like breathing.
His skin felt a slight vibration, rhythmic and high-frequency, spread by something pounding under the fabric. Izaya knew that, if he could have put his ears closer, he would have heard a sound; even if he couldn't guess what it was. Actually, now that he thought about it, his sense of hearing could perceive anoise synchronized with the wave movement. It was like wind passing through a tiny passage, it was like a breath. But it was ragged, and accompanied by hiccups. Someone was sobbing.
He understood.
Somebody had carried him unconscious away from that living hell, actually saving his life. But who? He was influential of course, he was the most important person in that military camp by far, but he was sadly aware that nobody really would have risked life and limb to save him. Even if Izaya constantly affirmed his love for them, his beloved humans didn't reciprocate it at all. Who, then, would have slowed down their own escape to cart away a thin, but still grown man like him? What a stupid decision! If Izaya hadn't been shot, he would have escaped as fast as he could, without saving anyone other than himself. He wouldn't even feel guilty for his selfishness.
Izaya was dying from curiosity. He had to know who had defied his expectations.
So he slowly opened his eyes and, in the darkness, the raven noted the outline of strong, tanned arms holding him. His head was resting on the man's chest, which proved to be the source of the heat. The cloth turned out to be a white t-shirt, stained with dirt and blood, probably Izaya's own from the wound on his leg. His half-lidded eyes followed the garment up, over its hem, until he spotted drops of water running down the man's neck. He felt his heart nearly burst out from his chest when he noted that the droplets were dripping through blond hair. The man's features weren't unknown to Izaya; those hazel eyes were terribly familiar.
Shizuo? Why would Shizu-chan save him and not his brother?
He had heard the beast crying - the droplets on his neck could be tears. Something must have happened to Kasuka. That situation, however, still didn't make sense to him at all. Shizuo hated him, didn't he? Why such a drastic change of character? In his current state, Izaya wasn't able to determine an answer. Everything was unintelligible, even to a smart person like him.
A sudden sting of pain made him clench his fist around the shirt, and bury his head in Shizuo's chest. It was almost unbearable, but he fought desperately to stay conscious He didn't know what passing through the protozoan's head yet. Perhaps Shizuo wanted to gift him with an even more painful death than the fire.
Izaya was basking in dreadful, graphic thoughts of his own death when, out of the blue, he felt the monster hug him. It wasn't a bone-crushing embrace. In fact, it was strangely affectionate, like the blonde really cared for the person in his arms.
This wasn't possible, right? It was so out of character for Shizuo that Izaya felt the urge to burst into laughter, and he would've done so if it wasn't for the excruciating pain in ever part of him. The strategist tried to find a satisfying explanation, wracking his brain, but he came to no conclusion, except that Shizuo didn't hate him at all.
Ridiculous. Shizuo loathed him from the first time they met.
Izaya still remembered that rainy day. He had heard of the boy with inhuman strength from frightened, gorilla-like seniors the day before and, of course, he was interested. He was deeply fascinated by human nature, and the way they faced different situations. He entertained himself by trying to predict peoples' moves and, when he was right, it was like an adrenalin rush, serving to build up his ego and pride. Soon, he became more curious, and moved on to study test subjects' reaction to circumstances in which he was first the catalyst, then the trigger, in the end making him the god.
Experiment by experiment, he dissociated himself from his guinea pigs, which he fondly called humans, until he became, by his own hand, a hybrid, an aberration. Because he surely wasn't one of them, god forbid, he was above them, though they refused to acknowledge his status. And, thanks to his experiments, along with his innate sharpness and learning skills, he improved his ability as strategist, becoming one of the most influential people in the army.
The night after he heard the first tales of Shizuo, he couldn't sleep from excitement.
So interesting...
That night, Izaya envisioned Shizuo just like a mutation from his humans' standards. He craved to study, to experiment, to master it.
The next morning, he eagerly started his observation. Behind his binoculars, red eyes widened in astonishment because never, never in his whole life, he had seen someone so interesting, and beautiful, someone who left him so utterly shocked.
This is the best! This is what I've always waited for.
So Izaya decided to approach him.
The boy was taller than him, and he was slender despite the load his body could bear. Unruly blonde hair framed a sulky face and burning hazel eyes. He seemed to be in a kind of inner turmoil derived from his lack of control over his mutation. Izaya was sure the humans around him had always warded him off, if not even fought him, and that was likely the reason behind the decision to join the army.
Izaya was so excited to-
He miscalculated.
He didn't expect such a reaction from the boy – it was a totally unpredictable one. The raven put one of his masks on and kept his composure, but he was shocked. The blonde's response was so different from any Izaya expected and was accustomed to. Nobody had ever reacted in such way the first time they met Izaya, because he was aware he had the right stuff to make a good, no, a perfect first impression. He was well-mannered and intelligent, but most of all, he was handsome, and Izaya knew people were usually inclined to trust a beautiful person rather than an ugly one.
Shizuo, with only a glance, decided he didn't like him.
Without any apparent reason, just on instinct. Like a beast.
It was so blunt, and it left in his mouth the bad aftertaste of rejection, stirring up his pride like gasoline on a flame. Izaya didn't snap, he had never let anger control his actions because he wasn't used to let his guard down or reacting on instinct like an animal. As a rational being, he couldn't soothe his wounded pride with the taste of bones breaking under his fists. He had to make it just with his intellect. In other words, he had to find a rational explanation for that unusual behavior.
And there it was, the answer. His intelligence hadn't failed.
It wasn't only the boy's strength that was superhuman, it was his whole being. It wasn't a mutation at all, Shizuo was something else who adapted his external appearance to resemble human.
Beyond physical appearance, in his very core, the boy was against human nature: Monstrum.
Izaya's love was for humans, and humans only. Loving someone like Shizuo was useless, if not dangerous. How could he take delight in studying something that had no rules he could deduce? However, despite his monstrous nature, Shizuo was perhaps the most intriguing being he'd ever met in his entire life, and Izaya immediately realized he was the perfect subject for a more focused study, though others may have called it a twisted obsession. He hadn't made Shizuo's life a hell out of malicious intent. It was just because Shizuo was his grotesque plaything, and he gained an immense, sadistic pleasure in torment that inhuman creature.
So how could Shizuo save his life like the past years didn't mean anything?
How could Shizuo take him in his arms, without trying to break him?
As though Shizuo had sensed his thoughts, the monster's embrace tightened. Izaya immediately realized he was finally going to crush him, breaking with his lethal grip every bone in Izaya's poor body.
Such a painful death. Good choice, Shizu-chan.
However, what Shizuo did immediately after the deadly hug Izaya would always remember as the most unpredictable move the monster had ever made.
Shizuo kissed his hair. He buried his nose in raven-black strands, gently nuzzling, before his soft lips placed delicate, affectionate kisses all over Izaya's head. Over and over, like he cared.
Izaya was so shocked from that strange display of affection he didn't realized the hug had become even tighter, and he swore he could hear his bones creaking in protest. But it didn't seem to be a deadly embrace at all, even if it was almost as painful. The kisses didn't stop; if anything, they became more frequent and desperate, without ever losing their tenderness.
Izaya was baffled by that strange behavior but, most of all, he was astonished that the beast was capable of such tender actions. He had always seen those hands uprooting trees, punching people almost to death, and throwing bunks beds like they were paper cranes.
Now, those hands were holding him with desperate affection.
And those lips, they were used to throw insults, death threats, feral growls; they weren't made for kissing in such sweet way.
Always so unpredictable...
He didn't know what to think, his mind blank as Shizuo's kisses wiped every drop of rational thinking clean from his mind. In this tight embrace, his head rested entirely on the blonde's chest. It was like melting; he felt the heat seeping through his skin like waves, eroding his cold shell, leaving him exposed. He turned his head, facing the warmth, letting the tip of his nose and forehead lie on it.
He inhaled deeply, eyes closed, before his lips lightly touched the shirt, feeling its texture. Then, like they had their own volition, they moved on to feel the smoothness of the hot, slightly wet body the cloth hid. His lips parted; they wanted more, if only they could make that thin cotton layer disappear-
He craved to know what taste that sweat-glistening skin would leave on his tongue.
Immediately after, however, Izaya realized what he was doing and was instantly ashamed by his own thoughts. The pain and the blonde's unusual behavior were tricking his mind and making him lose his self control. He couldn't feel attraction towards any one human in particular, so he would certainly never fantasize over a monster's body. It was just the suspension bridge effect. In such a dangerous situation, he was mistaking the physiological responses his body had to fear for arousal.
Now that he thought about it, Shizuo's feelings could turn out to be very useful. In his current state, Izaya couldn't make it without someone's help and the beast was the perfect one to help. He would let Shizu-chan carry him to a safe place and, once healed, he could find a painful way to punish the monster that dared to kiss him. Even in pain, Izaya couldn't keep himself from smiling.
In the meantime, Shizuo sat down, still holding the smaller body in his arms. Izaya wondered how long the monster would waste time doting on him, since he was still dying from pain and blood-loss! However, he decided to keep his mouth closed. Shizuo was still Shizuo after all, and Izaya knew all too well how quickly his mood could drastically change with just one bad-chosen word.
The blonde hugged him, tightly, and nuzzled his face in black strands. Then, his lips were again on the raven's head, firmly kissing him, just once.
Izaya felt the blonde's head lifting from his hair, and sensed the other man's eyes on his own body, scorching his skin with hazel gaze. He heard the collar of the shirt being ripped off, then a rustling as Shizuo wrapped the cloth above the wound on his knee, trying to stop the bleeding. The raven was glad the protozoan had still the good sense to stop the cuddling in an attempt to save him from fatal blood-loss.
One big, gentle hand forced Izaya's head to turn, separating it from its nest in the blonde's shirt. The lack of warmth was soon replaced by soft fingertips that started to draw invisible paths on his cheek, making him shiver.
Red eyes remained shut. For the first time in his life, Izaya feared what he might find in those monstrous brown ones if he were to look. In his mind, he visualized them feral, burning with pure lust.
He hated himself and his curiosity for wanting to see that gaze.
I'll see it just once. Then, once I'll be healed, I'll kill him. I'll find a way to make him pay for what he dared to do.
He opened his eyes.
Izaya tried to visualize the blond man still holding him. His messy blond hair was partially blackened with soot, as was his face. The raven spotted on his cheeks trails of tears that had washed away the dirt. Some caressed his jaw-line before diving on his neck, and others brushed those dark pink, parted lips.
He didn't find the gaze he expected.
Hazel eyes weren't burning with lust; they were impossibly wide with shock.
When Shizuo recognized those red eyes, he felt his heart stop. His first thought was that this was all a nightmare, and soon he would drown in white mist and woke up in his tent. That delusion lasted only for the blink of an eye, though, and a sense of despair filled him whole, leaving just void inside of him, like he was nothing more than an empty shell.
When he woke up from his trance, the blonde found out he was running like hell. He had no idea how much time passed from the moment he recognized Izaya, or how many miles he ran. The landscape was totally different, and the plume of smoke was closer. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, forcing himself to not be overwhelmed.
Around him, the moon lit soft slopes covered in full bloomed poppies that bent lazily in the breeze. Lonely, centuries-old trees watched over the silent, uncontaminated landscape. And so it was since they were acorns, and before them there were other trees as guardians, and so on and on, since the dawn of time. A small, white owl was perched on a branch, watching the sleeping nature under him. His head tilted on one side when golden eyes suddenly spotted something unusual for the third time since the sun disappeared under the horizon. The bird, even if he lacked experience since his young age, noticed that there was something different that night. First of all, there was a strong light the owl had never seen before, in a forest just ten minutes flight from there. Then, there was a coming and going totally uncanny for that place where stillness reigned.
That night something had happened, upsetting that place's balance, but he could have never imagined what monstrous carnage took place in the humans' world.
The white bird's gaze followed out of curiosity the running... being? before he took flight, soaring over sleeping fields while the wind lightly caressed his feathers.
In the meanwhile, the blond man didn't stop his desperate run, even if he was completely worn out. As he approached the forest where their military camp was hidden, he spotted tall flames swallowing up tree-tops, and the smell of smoke became unbearable. Even though his self-preservation instinct begged him to stop, Shizuo kept running, as fast as he could, not caring enough to avoid the sharp branches cutting his body like blades.
He didn't care, his whole being seized on just two words, infinitively repeated:
Find him, find him, find him.
He seemed barely human now, covered in blood and soot, his limbs full of cuts and his eyes burning like they belonged to a wild beast. Or, perhaps, he had never been so deeply human before.
When Shizuo finally arrived to the camp, he noticed their enemies weren't there anymore. Fire had swallowed up everything, tents, people, hope, before the wind directed it towards other fuel.
There was nothing more to find. Only ashes were left. The tall trees encircling the clearing had been consumed by fire, until all that remained was their skeletons, looming black and sinister like claws over the thick fog of soot. Staggering through the ashes, he reached the place where he guessed their tent had been located. Even here, there was no trace of Kasuka. Between bouts of coughing due to the smoke lingering in the air, he shouted his brother's name.
His only reply was the faint crackling of fire in the distance.
In the bottom of his heart, he wasn't surprised. The blonde knew that he had been given only one chance, and he wasted it mistaking his brother for his arch-enemy.
How fucking, FUCKING, stupid I am.
He fell on his knees, hands in his hair.
A desperate shout echoed throughout the hills, but there was nobody still alive to hear it.
Shizuo, mad with grief, searched for his little brother all across the camp till dawn. Despite his efforts, he couldn't find either Kasuka or his corpse. He had searched through the burned remains of his brothers in arms, scattered in the camp and around the clearing like fallen leaves. Some of them had been destroyed by flames to such an extent that he couldn't figure out who they were anymore. Others, he couldn't stand the sight without feeling his stomach lurch and a sting of pain piercing his heart.
Among hundreds of fallen soldiers, he found the corpses of the men who provoked him the day before.
Shizuo's chest hurt, heavy with anxiety and lack of air; both panic and smoke had tarred his lungs, but he had kept on calling his brother's name.
Gotta call him again. He hadn't heard me. There's the noise from the fire - or - or he's too weak to answer. Both flames and enemy spared him, he is just somewhere around the camp-
Useless.
Must search again! Must call his name again!
He's just a bit farther, yes, he must be right behind those trees! I'll find him safe and sound! He'll forgive me, and I'll laugh at how stupid I had been. He'll laugh too, since he's safe-
The sound of his steps faded, swallowed by the realization he had already sifted through this place, more than once. His little brother was nowhere to be found. There was still the option Kasuka had managed to escape, but how, and where? There wasn't a single house in sight in those uninhabited lands, and that meant no food and no shelter. There was nobody that could heal Kasuka if he was injured, and the probability he had at least one wound was extremely high. Even if he had managed to avoid the bullets, there had been the flames to contend with.
Shizuo was sure he himself had only managed to come out unscathed from that hell because of his monstrous strength. But his brother was human, his body was fragile.
In the end, he couldn't delude himself anymore: Kasuka was dead, all because he made one single, enormous, mistake.
He let himself fall on the ground, longing for death to overcome him.
There was nothing more left for him; the only silver lining in his life had now vanished. He wondered if it was possible to die from guilt alone.
If only he had saved his brother, instead that damned flea.
The flea.
Shizuo suddenly realized he had still one thing to do before dying: killing Izaya. Surely, that louse would still laying where Shizuo had left him; he couldn't walk in his condition, after all. The blonde stood and stumbled, totally blinded by sorrow, before he went through the same path he had already made twice consecutively that night.
Izaya lay on that same field where Shizuo had abandoned him, alternating from awareness to pain-induced unconsciousness. During one moment of clarity, the raven tried to understand what had happened (one minute, one hour, one eternity? How long had it been?) before. He was tempted to give up entirely on comprehending what passed through that monster's head. One moment, Shizuo had been kissing him, and the next, he had brusquely shoved Izaya to the ground and run away.
With little other choice, Izaya waited for his enemy to return, his whole world reduced to the clear sky above him, framed by the long stems of wild vegetation. Subconsciously, he searched for something impossible according to physical laws, something that proved he was only having an extremely vivid nightmare. He waited for the stars to start wrapping up in spirals, he imagined the soil opening under his body to let him fall. His mind searched for anything.
It found nothing.
The weight of reality left him breathless, on the border of a panic attack. It started with a freezing stab at the pit of the stomach, which became firmer the situation appeared clearer before his eyes. It didn't matter how hard he tried to control himself, tried to keep the pangs at bay. The more he thought about stopping his brain from focusing on the pain, the more he prodded it, poking it like waves on rocks, until it became unbearable, infecting even his chest with its cold grip. His heartbeat began racing, building up adrenaline with the frantic rhythm of thumps against his ribcage. His breath came out shallow, fast, synchronized with his racing thoughts. There was no prospect of salvation: his life depended on his worst enemy.
That night, which had claimed so many lives, was going to forever alter his own or, perhaps, end it entirely. If the brute didn't decide to return and take him where somebody could heal him, that night would surely be his last.
Night passed by, and day arrived on its tail, but Shizuo still wasn't back in sight. Izaya's thoughts returned to the monster's behavior. Even if Shizuo was unpredictable, and acted driven by pure instinct, Izaya couldn't stand that there was something he couldn't find a rational explanation to.
What happened to make Shizuo look so shocked? And what is the reason the protozoan decided to run away? Where is he now?
Izaya suddenly remembered that the drastic change occurred when Shizuo had lifted his face from the shirt. It was like Shizuo became aware of who was hugging.
Red eyes widened in realization.
Suddenly, the raven heard a rustle and his heart jumped in surprise. Someone was getting closer. Shizu-chan?
Step by step, the sound grew nearer and, soon, he appeared in Izaya's field of vision. Shizuo was barely recognizable, every bit of his body that Izaya could see was full of cuts, some still bleeding profusely, and the layer of soot on his skin was thicker than Izaya remembered.
So the monster went back there.
When Izaya spotted those hazel eyes, his heart almost stopped beating in his chest.
Shizuo had come back to kill him.
Shizuo didn't know how he was able to find Izaya. He just kept walking and, eventually, there he was. As he had expected, the flea had not moved and, luckily for Shizuo's thirst for revenge, he was still alive. The blond let himself fall onto the ground near the smaller man. Then, with a swift movement, he was on top of the raven, his open hands splayed on the ground near Izaya's head and knees on both sides of his thin hips, trapping him.
Izaya reacted instinctively, lifting his hands, but his movements lacked their usual agility, and Shizuo easily caught his wrists. Shizuo pinned them forcefully above the raven's head, taking them both with one hand and holding tight.
Izaya hissed in pain.
One hand should be enough to kill him.
The flea was finally at his mercy, so Shizuo took his time to look at that thin, injured body, savoring the long awaited power trip. Like it was all written in a script, he knew exactly what to do. And until every line of it was read and performed, every violent need fulfilled, he wouldn't feel satisfied.
Meanwhile, Izaya was trying to bear the pain of his wrist being squashed by that monstrous hand. On top of him, that beast was observing him squirming, ready to deliver the final blow. When he went to bed that night, he had never imagined that the day Shizuo might catch him would ever come. He had always been confident in his agility and superior intellect. Not that he had never wondered, out of pure curiosity, what it would feel like being trapped by such inhuman strength. Of course, he hadn't imagined it would hurt so much, and Shizuo had barely started to play with him. Izaya arched his back in unbearable pain, lips opened up in a silent scream.
Then a warm, strangely gentle, hand touched his chin and lowered it.
Blond hair tips brushed against his cheek as Izaya felt Shizuo's lips lingering on his earlobe. A husky voice whispered in his ear.
"Izaya..."
The raven shivered.
"Izaya, look at me... Because I'm going to kill you."
Red eyes opened wide and locked with the burning ones few inches over his face.
Izaya wondered when he closed them, and felt ashamed; he wasn't afraid of that beast, at all. Even if those were his last moments of life, he surely couldn't let Shizuo believe he had succeeded in defeating him. If it wasn't for their enemies, the monster would never been able to catch him, much less kill him.
Shizuo felt that once pale skin under his fingers stretching in an insane smirk. He didn't expect anything less from Izaya - the flea always dared to challenge him, even when he already was a dead man walking. Slowly, Shizuo let his fingertips slip down to that soft, pliable neck, brushing it in his descent until his hand encircled it. Hazel eyes looked closely, following every path they made and, when his palm lay flat, Shizuo acknowledged his hand fit perfectly around that silky expanse of skin.
The weight of that scarlet gaze was piercing his flesh, and that sensation aroused an adrenaline rush all over his body. Shizuo wanted to be the last thing that those dying eyes focused on. But this still wasn't enough to satisfy him. He suddenly remembered one time he had watched a thriller movie in which the victim's retina retained, for several hours, the image of the last thing seen before death. In his frenzy, he craved to impress the tangible sign of revenge on those bloody-red eyes.
Those thoughts finally unsettled his rational inner self. The monster in him was taking control over his being, and without a target, without Kasuka to protect, there was no way to put him back to sleep. Killing Izaya while the other man was injured and defenseless would be the last step, and Shizuo knew that if he took it, there was no turning back. He would completely lose the last drop of humanity that still remained to him.
Whatever.
Shizuo began to tighten his hold on Izaya's neck.
Shizuo's eyes came back to focus on his foe's red ones, now wide open but still locked with his. When his grip increased in intensity, he felt those thin wrists trying to wiggle out of his hold, struggling for dear life. In facing death, his arch-enemy didn't seem the god he pretended to be at all. With his desperate attempt to free himself, he was indeed unveiling how deeply human he was.
I hate you, I hate you so much, Izaya! You're human, but you refuse to accept it.
If only I were human.
His deadly hold tightened.
Until the small body under his stopped moving.
He grinned insanely and pushed more, because he knew the damned flea wasn't dead yet.
Then, Shizuo spotted them: his own tears, blended with blood, on that once alabaster skin.
In the end, he couldn't do it.
A/N: Thanks to my beta, Aira Kay!
