Disclaimer: I do not own Durarara!
Tsukumoya: [Please, Shiki-san]
Tsukumoya: [Help him!]
The cell phone weighed heavily in his suit pocket as he lurked down the dark corridor silently, his senses on high alert for any signs of life. Shiki knew it was a bad idea the moment he stepped into the building. The scent of blood nearly overwhelmed him, and this was after he had already drank his fill for the week. He only hoped that this so-called "Lycoris Group" had other unfortunate victims to account for the smell, or he would be texting the bad news to Tsukumoya soon.
If he was lucky, the entire situation was just a prank at his own expense. Tsukumoya had been in contact with Izaya since before the Awakusu-kai after all, and Shiki knew for a fact that the other had some strange obsession with his informant. However, the more he thought about the desperation in their exchange from earlier, the more implausible it seemed that this was a mere joke.
Tsukumoya: [There shouldn't be anyone if you go right now]
Shiki: [How are you so sure?]
Tsukumoya: [It doesn't matter where I get my information]
Shiki: [Orihara's always going off on his own. This could just be a trap.]
Tsukumoya: [You know I wouldn't send you into a trap]
Tsukumoya: [Please, you're the only one I can ask]
Shiki: [It is rare for you to beg.]
Tsukumoya: [Call it what you will. I just need to know he's safe]
Shiki: [You don't trust him to take care of himself?]
Tsukumoya: [Not with this group.]
Tsukumoya: [Don't make me remind you that you're partially responsible for this too]
He grimaced at the memory as he made his way up the rusty metal stairs, spreading the darkness beneath him to muffle his footprints. Shiki had not had to put himself in the field much lately; it was why he had chosen to deal with some of the more mundane jobs in the Awakusu-kai, after all. There were plenty of men in the organization who would jump at the chance to see some action, and he easily assigned those jobs away or gave them to Akabayashi or Aozaki.
He admitted that joining the Awakusu-kai was one of the better choices he had made in his more recent life, at least until someone eventually noticed any of his unusual "traits." However, by then he would have either moved on to something new or found a way to hide himself so deep within the organization that no one would dare to question his status.
Regardless, he could feel his power bristling with excitement at the extra stimulation. He took a deep breath to calm himself. It would do him no good if Lycoris found out about his existence here.
The trek to the third floor seemed to take forever in the uncanny darkness and silence of the seemingly abandoned office building. It was difficult to imagine that an entire organization had even stationed any of their men here. He could only wonder what strings Tsukumoya had to pull to draw its inhabitants out.
Shiki finally reached the aforementioned door on the third floor and tried the knob carefully to find it locked. He supposed he couldn't have it all as he checked around his surroundings one more time to make sure there wasn't anyone in the immediate vicinity. He had considered taking some form of backup with him to retrieve his target, but the possibility of exposing himself was much too high, especially since both him and Tsukumoya knew the group seemed to be seeking out their kind.
What he didn't expect was for the informant to somehow get involved. Shiki was certain that he had taken the proper steps to hide his true nature from the other, and the man hadn't indicated any signs of knowing since the beginning. It was why he had kept Izaya away from any jobs related to Lycoris, he tried to tell himself.
But, Izaya was a good actor, so he guessed that he shouldn't be completely surprised if the other at least suspected.
Shiki: [Just what was he doing with Lycoris anyway?]
Tsukumoya: [He wasn't doing anything]
Tsukumoya: [They came to him]
Shiki broke the door with a powerful kick, and the waft that washed over him nearly made him see red as he immediately held his nose to keep himself in check.
"What the hell," he hissed as he peered around the dark room. He immediately spotted a familiar fur-trimmed coat on the floor at the base of a decrepit sofa, and he rushed over to it, his veins running cold when he saw the small pool of red around it. Shiki grimaced at the scent of blood that permeated the air as he rolled the motionless figure over.
Izaya's normally pale complexion was nothing compared to the pallor in the man's face now. He shook the informant cautiously, trying not to panic at the lack of response. He remembered the first day Izaya had sauntered into his life sometime after Kine had left the organization. He had been alive long enough that nothing could phase him, at least on the surface, but he had held his breath for a moment that day, nearly overwhelmed by the sweetness that threatened to overtake him.
"Orihara," Shiki called out sternly. This had to be an act. Izaya had always been good at it, he told himself. He had to dance around the other for so many years, after all. The informant wouldn't leave just like this, alone in the middle of some warehouse.
He breathed a sigh of relief when the other finally stirred in his arms, groaning slightly. Izaya blinked slowly once, then twice, and to his surprise, the man's eyes glimmered with amusement when they finally recognized him.
"I didn't think you would be the one to come for me," Izaya chuckled weakly as Shiki looked over the rest of him to gauge the damage. It wouldn't do them any good if Izaya bled out during the escape. He couldn't tell what wasn't covered in blood, and the dampness on the black of the informant's clothes did not help his assessment.
"Don't move. You're bleeding to death."
"I've established that hours ago," Izaya only laughed, the effort sending weak shivers down the informant's body. Shiki made out a bullet hole on the man's shoulder before he realized there was another on his thigh, but that didn't explain why his other hand was covered with red.
"Fuck, how many times did they shoot you?" he hissed. It was fine, he told himself. He still had time. At least the shooters had miraculously missed the arteries, he thought bitterly.
Izaya weakly raised up four fingers. It was then he saw the third on the opposite forearm. What he didn't understand was why or how the other was still alive. It was unlike Lycoris to leave their test subjects alive like this, unless they were seriously just trying to get information out of the man. He idly wondered just how much Izaya would have divulged.
Shiki supposed he would just have to ask the informant once he got Izaya out of this shit hole.
He grimaced and positioned his arms under the man's legs to lift him as he ran through the options through his head. He could take Izaya to the hospital, but that would draw even more unnecessary attention to them. Shinra was another option, but he knew Izaya needed blood, and fast.
His ears picked up a series of light taps and he froze, cursing himself for letting his guard down when he realized they were footsteps. He searched the room for another escape path, a window or door, but there was none.
"How'd you get in here!" one of the kidnappers snarled in the doorway, and Shiki detected a glint of metal in the man's hand pointed at him. He reached for his own weapon, knowing he would be milliseconds too slow as he prepared for the impact, when the one in his arms suddenly pushed off with much more force than he thought was possible. Their guns went off simultaneously, and Izaya crumpled into a heap in front of him.
"Orihara!"
Shiki fired another three shots into the man for good measure, and the other collapsed at the door into an unmoving mass.
He bent back down and rolled Izaya over, his own heart beating much too quickly. The bullet had hit the informant in the chest, but the man was still breathing. It was okay, Izaya was still alive, he told himself repeatedly.
"Izaya," he called the other, and the informant looked up at him, breaths shallow and those beautiful reddish brown eyes dilated with pain. He didn't understand why Izaya had thrown himself in front of him like that. Shiki would have easily recovered from such a wound if the man had shot him, but he supposed that Izaya couldn't possibly know that.
"Neh, Shiki," Izaya managed, grasping his hand. He could feel the other trembling and wondered if the man feared death. He wouldn't be surprised; he had seen many die in his long life. It was always only a matter of time.
"Why did you come for me?"
Shiki froze at those words, momentarily caught off guard by the slight desperation that lined Izaya's voice. "Is that really the last you thing you want to hear?" he asked the other quietly. He could never understand what drove the man called Izaya Orihara as a smirk formed on the informant's face.
Izaya would be the one to laugh in the face of death, Shiki thought bitterly as a bout of wet coughs promptly wiped away the expression as quickly as it had come.
He was running out of time. There was too much blood. The smell was dangerous, sweet, ready to overpower him the moment he allowed it to, just like that day years ago.
He swallowed thickly, his throat dry at the impending outcome as he ran his tongue across his fangs.
He studied the other carefully, remembering the soft features that had almost made him weak these past years. He had always suspected that the informant would mess up one of these days with all the scheming the other did, but now that the day had come, he found himself just the slightest bit unprepared for the inevitable.
The sight of Izaya dying in his arms seemed surreal, like the sight of cherry blossoms disappearing into the spring wind.
Shiki should hurry and take the informant to the hospital, he told himself, although he knew they were already out of time. He had killed enough people and let enough die, to know when too late was too late. He also knew that there was always another option, another choice only he had the power to make, but he shook the thought vehemently out of his head.
Shiki shouldn't, he told himself, even if he was slightly fond of his irritating informant, even if he found himself staring much more than was proper these past years he had been in charge of Izaya.
Even if it may have partially been his fault since he had dropped the informant's name casually into their network to draw attention away from himself, he had no right to take away such a freedom that was death.
"Even the most brilliant fire will eventually burn into nothing but ash," Tsukumoya had once said long ago. He knew that the other would be furious with him if he went through with it. Tsukumoya knew as much as he did what type of implications the choice carried.
Yet, he found himself hesitating, even now.
Shiki: [Why do you care so much?]
Tsukumoya: [You don't encounter such a fine specimen like him very often]
Shiki: [That can't be the only reason.]
Tsukumoya was quiet for a while, and Shiki set the phone aside to prepare for the operation.
Tsukumoya: [Even I get lonely sometimes]
Tsukumoya: [Don't you?]
"Shiki…" The sound of his name, soft and resigned, brought him back to those fading eyes.
His hand tightened around Izaya's. He shouldn't, he told himself. He had no right.
Regardless, the words left his lips like a prayer.
"Do you want to live?"
I really wanted to write a vampire yakuza story "just because," but then I got lost and didn't know if I was ever going to post this. Actually, I still don't really know where I'm going with this. I don't even know who the final pairing will be! Gah, we can do two different endings, sequential relationships, polyamory (not really my thing though), not have any pairings (but this is why I write!)... Ah, I hope you'll enjoy the ride regardless. I'm sorry Izaya…
