Chapter 12: Frosty the Headless Snowman

A/N: Gosh it's been a hot minute and I honestly forgot to update this from AO3 lmao.

For the next few days, Izaya is plagued by constantly resurfacing memories of Christmas. He tries calling Shinra a few times, if only to talk to him about this issue he seemingly had very little knowledge about, but to no avail. Apart from that, he stops trying to do anything. He just feels …tired. Exhausted even. He takes a seat back from work and essentially cuts himself off from the rest of the world, hardly leaving his house and interacting with anyone, stuck solely with himself and his thoughts. He wonders what Shizuo had been thinking at that time, stuck in the entrance of the elevator compartment. What had he thought of Izaya's words, his actions. It's probably the constant recollection of those memories that has Izaya so fatigued in the first place, yet he can't help but think about them.

At night, he has trouble sleeping and barely gets in more than five hours at a time. During the day, he just feels empty, with no drive to actually do a single damn thing. Not even eat, not even read, not even people watch. The only thing he manages to do before the new year is clean, and even that is a pain in his ass, with the cleaning spanning over five days. Not that he has much to do in the first place, since his apartment is generally kept tidy at all times. But each time he picks up the vacuum and turns it on, he ends up only vacuuming one square of carpet, getting a headache, and promptly turning it off. So, he gives up.

He's too sad and lethargic, so he ends up plopping down on the couch in front of the TV watching reruns of Doraemon…at 3am. With a bucket of ice cream in his hands. Imagine such a sight, the great Orihara Izaya glued to his couch, his eyes aimlessly fixated on the TV, with the flashing screen being the only source of light in the room. Him, shoveling spoon after spoon of overly sweet, frozen dairy products into his mouth. It's absolutely depressing. Pathetic, at best. He scoffs, eating another spoonful. Shizuo cravings. Fucking Shizuo cravings. Yet another thorn in his side, spawned by none other than that protozoan.

"All because of Shizu-chan" he murmurs and licks his spoon clean. He feels like throwing up at this point but keeps eating, not even wanting to think that perhaps the cause of his low energy mood could be caused by something other than Shizuo. He snorts, pushing a certain past conversation with Shinra out of his mind as he dips his spoon in the bucket of ice cream only to find…it's empty.

Oh. Well then.

"I really do wish you would drop dead already, stupid Shizu-chan. Might spare me my own death via hyperglycemic shock," he mutters to no one in particular and stares at the empty tub of ice cream before him. He feels even more sluggish now than he did before. Even if he is that tired, he can't sleep. He'd stayed up past midnight anyway because of those damned bells, yet even after they'd ceased ringing, he still hadn't been able to fall asleep.

What is he even doing? He's Orihara Izaya. He shouldn't be off moping on the first day of the New Year like this. He should be out there starting the year off with a bang. Preferably an actual bang, hopefully blowing Shizuo to smithereens by igniting a match into a room full of propane gas. And suddenly, he feels like going out, dancing around, being anywhere but his own stuffy house.

In retrospect, it had probably been a very bad idea to go out in the middle of the night because as Izaya soon realizes, it's cold, it's wet, and he's absolutely alone with the dim street lights barely illuminating the surrounding area. Everything is closed as well on account of the New Year, so actually…he has nothing to do.

He drags his feet aimlessly through a thin blanket of snow that had accumulated over the night. Smooth, pure, untouched. Izaya is the first to taint it with his feet. For some reason, he even finds some semblance of joy in kicking the white powder around, even if his serotonin levels aren't up to their usual standards. His aimless wandering leads him to the front steps of a small shrine that quickly catches his eye. Izaya isn't particularly religious, but since religion is a positively human thing to believe in, he's absolutely fascinated by it.

This time, it's not his obsession with humanity that has him curious about the premises. If his life held any semblance of normalcy to it, then perhaps he could have been one of those kids that would frequent such shrines with his family in order to pray for a good year. Now as an adult, he could very well do these things if he so desired to. He debates whether he should or not. After all, if monsters exist, and if soulmates exist, who knows what other otherworldly forces are out there?

Izaya scoffs and smiles bitterly.

No.

He's not that type of person after all. He turns on his heel and walks in the opposite direction, with his hood hung low over his head. Things like that are all just a waste of time and a waste of mental energy. Being filled with false hope of better days that will never come…who is he kidding?

He walks a few more paces, continuing his pointless stroll, until he stumbles across a small park. The grass and pavement is also covered in a veil of pure white. He scowls and crouches down to get a closer look. Truly, such a smooth layer of untouched fluff. Izaya lifts his hand up, spreads out his fingers, and quickly brings his palm down, tainting the snow with his hand print. And then he does it again, and again, with each hand print turning his scowl closer and closer into a smile. It's almost…fun. Even if his hand is cold, it still has him giggling excitedly.

Soon enough, there's no more space left for his hand to go, so he shifts his sights to a new objective. He starts to gather piles of snow into one lump, forming each lump into tight snowballs. One, two, thee; all stacked on top of each other from the biggest to the smallest. He stares at his little creation, a miniature snowman with no eyes, no mouth, or arms. How sad. Quickly, Izaya digs around to the pavement where he finds a couple of sticks and a few small rocks. He puts the sticks in first, one on each side of the torso. He puts in one stone into the snowman's face and is about to about to put the other one in when a pair of shoes comes into his field of vision.

"Just my luck. Figures you'd be the first person I see at the start of the New Year."

Izaya doesn't need to look up to know who'd just spoken to him. He knows that voice well. His lips curl into a indignant smile.

"Likewise, Shizu-chan," Izaya answers and sticks the other rock into the snowman's face. There, now the little abomination has two mismatched eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Shizuo abruptly asks. Izaya tilts his head to look up at him.

"Isn't it obvious? Making a snowman," he murmurs, his voice coming off as tired. Shizuo pokes at the little snowman's head with the tip of his shoe, and Izaya instantly scowls.

"Don't touch it, I don't need you ruining yet another thing in my life," he grumbles and promptly swats at Shizuo's leg, irked by the fact that the former bartender would even dare to do such a thing as defile his precious creation.

Irritated, Shizuo brings his foot back and kicks the snowman's head straight at Izaya, forcing the latter to shut his eyes and jerk his head back as the cold mush hits his face.

"Don't tell me what to do," Shizuo mutters as Izaya wipes the snow off his cheeks.

"You know Shizu-chan, I always knew I would be the one to turn you into a murderer, but I didn't know it would be like this. I can't believe you would go so far as to kill an innocent snowman," he sighs.

"A snowman is not a person."

"He was my son. I worked so hard to create him. What if he came to life like in the cartoon? What then, Shizuo? You could have killed him for real," Izaya cries, exaggerating the pronunciation of his words to the point they become comically overdramatic. Shizuo crouches down and grabs a pile of snow into his palms, forming it into a tight ball as he grumbles something about stupid fleas and stupid snowmen under his breath before plopping the ball on top of the snowman body.

"There, ya happy now?" he asks. Izaya stares at the little misshapen ball with narrowed eyes.

"No. It's ugly and deformed. Figures it would look like a monster, coming from you" he says and picks up the snowball before throwing it at Shizuo's face. It lands just under his chin, hitting his torso. Shizuo stares at the clump of falling snow, then quickly shoots his gaze back to Izaya.

"Fucking flea," he growls and Izaya sticks out his tongue.

"Payback, Shizu-chan" Izaya teases, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he watches Shizuo stand up and walk over to a nearby park bench. Mischief quickly turns to surprise as Shizuo picks the bench up. Izaya figures that he will throw it straight at him, so he prepares to direct all of his energy into his legs to try and avoid the impact. Instead, Shizuo walks over to him and flings the entirety of the settled snow from the top of the bench straight at Izaya, covering him from head to toe in white dust.

"Wow Shizuo, you really are just the epitome of maturity, aren't you?" Izaya groans as he stands up and starts to dust the snow off his frame.

"Says the fucking baby making a snowman and calling it his son," Shizuo retort, and Izaya looks at him as if he'd just said something incredibly stupid. Which, in Izaya's perspective, he always says something stupid.

"Why are you even here? Surely you have better things to do with your life than killing innocent snowmen," Izaya inquires calmly, tilting his head to the side and shoving his hands in his pockets. Shizuo shrugs. He seems a lot more mellow than Izaya had expected him to be. Well, it is early in the morning and there's nothing that would actually warrant Shizuo getting angry.

"Dunno. Couldn't sleep. Felt like taking a walk. Then I saw you. Was gonna come and kick your ass but…" he trails somewhat nonchalantly and Izaya nods his head eagerly, prompting him to continue.

"But?"

"But you were just building that stupid snowman, so what's the point?" he confesses. Izaya nods, as if in understanding, but truthfully he doesn't understand. He never knows what's going on in that stupid, blond head of his nor does he know why Shizuo had suddenly decided to act a lot more pacifistic, for once living up to his endlessly repeated phrase of "I hate violence".

"Right… Have you gone to the shrine yet? To wish for good luck and all that," Izaya asks, quickly changing the topic. It's not like he's particularly interested in Shizuo's reply. He's just trying to make small talk, testing the waters and trying to break the ice so that Shizuo may be a little more trusting and relaxed around him. As much fun as it is to tango with the devil, Izaya is too tired to show off his moves tonight.

"Yea, I did. Though what good did that do me, if the first person I see is you?" Shizuo grumbles. Indeed, Izaya shares his sentiments. This isn't how he'd envisioned his year starting. With a deep sigh, Izaya tilts his head downwards and walks up to the park bench Shizuo had previously emptied of all snow. The wood is still cold on his butt, but at least it isn't wet.

"Actually, there's something I want to talk to you about," Izaya confesses. Hs voice is calm and collected, but really he's still nervous on the inside. Whatever connects them to each other is a tricky matter to discuss, but if Izaya is going to do something about it, he needs to find out as much information as he can. So, he pats the empty space next to him, beckoning Shizuo to come and sit beside him.

And Shizuo sits.

They keep their distance, of course, with enough space between them to fit in one other person. Izaya watches as Shizuo places both hands on either side of him, with one hand resting halfway between them. Shizuo looks up at the night sky, and Izaya falters for a moment, just glancing at Shizuo's palm and longing to touch it. He bites his lip and shakes his head slightly before shifting his eyes to also look up at the heavens. The stars are out and there's not a single cloud in the sky. Despite the light pollution coming from the city, Izaya can still make out a few constellations.

"Do you see that star up there? The bright one? Polaris, at the very tip of the Ursa Minor. If you can find it, you will always know which way is North…" Izaya trails. Alright, maybe not exactly what he'd wanted to talk about in the first place but it's the first thing that pops out of his mouth. Shizuo looks at him skeptically.

"You want to talk to me about stars?" he asks, and Izaya can sense a hint of irritation creeping in. Well, stars, fate, whatever the future may hold, and all those other things. Izaya thinks that perhaps he would rather talk about the stars than supposed destiny. But if he's going to get anywhere in his research, there are topics he needs to address.

Here goes nothing.

While Shizuo is still stuck looking up at the sky, Izaya reaches over and places his palm over Shizuo's hand. He squeezes it automatically, closing his eyes momentarily as he feels a pleasant warmth seep into the pads of his freezing fingers. Shizuo is aware of his actions but doesn't flinch away from his touch.

"Tell me, what do you feel when we…touch?"

In this moment, this moment of pure anticipation, Izaya feels as if his heart may as well just burst. He isn't sure what kind of answer he's even hoping for. Anything to make himself feel better, really.

"Your skinny, bony fingers. Am I supposed to feel anything else?"

A confirmation that Shizuo doesn't feel a thing.

On the one hand, it should be a good thing, shouldn't it? If Shizuo doesn't feel the same way then Shinra's speculation of them would be false. Which would mean that there isn't, in fact, anything between Izaya and Shizuo. No red string of fate tied around their pinkies, linking them together.

On the other hand, it would mean Izaya is the one going absolutely insane, getting the short end of the stick each time. It would mean there is something going on for him to act this way, and he would have to figure out just what it is. Izaya isn't sure which of the options is worse, but he's sure if Shizuo's reply had been any different, he would feel just as dejected.

"You don't feel anything else? Or maybe it feels different than before?"

Shizuo shakes his head and it's easy to tell he's getting annoyed again, given by his narrowed brown and brisk reply.

"The fuck am I supposed to feel? It's the same as always."

Izaya quickly retracts his hand almost as if he'd been hurt by that statement. Theoretically, he shouldn't be. He knows that, but he'd lost control over his emotions a long time ago.

"I don't know," he answers truthfully. Because in fact, he doesn't know. None of it makes sense at all.

"Tell me then, what about other aspects of your life? Are there any changes in that? Eating habits, sleeping patterns, weird mood swings?" he then badgers. Surely at least if Shizuo is experiencing those it will make him feel somewhat better.

"The hell you need to know that for?" Shizuo responds and shifts in his seat, looking mildly uncomfortable. Izaya is starting to grow increasingly frustrated by Shizuo's refusal to cooperate with him. Always the same old routine. Why can't Shizuo, for once, just indulge him? Why can't Shizuo, for once, put that pea sized brain of his to good use and actually think about why Izaya is asking in the first place? Such seemingly trivial questions, surely there must be a good reason for them. So why can't he just answer?

"Because obviously, very clearly and obviously I'm trying to get as much information on you as possible so I can use it against you. Obviously, what you eat and how you sleep is totally going to help me with that, so won't you please just assist me in planning your murder?" Izaya says sarcastically with a bitter undertone to his words. Shizuo narrows his eyes and carefully takes out a cigarette.

"I'm not going to answer any of your questions if you're going to be a dick about it," he mumbles out, his voice somewhat distorted due to holding the cigarette between his lips. Izaya is slowly starting to think that perhaps this is some form of karma. Had he lived his life that wrongfully to warrant such a woeful situation to be stuck in? Having to do this with Shizuo, out of all people. No, not even people. More like, out of all beings in this God forsaken universe.

"I wouldn't be a dick about it if you just answer my question. So, can you? For once. It's important," Izaya says somewhat solemnly. He'd be lying if he said his pride isn't slightly hurt from practically begging Shizuo to comply with him. Shizuo looks at him, really looks at his face to the point it has Izaya shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"I don't know," he says and blows a puff of smoke into Izaya's face, forcing the informant to instantly flinch back, his nose scrunching due to the disgusting smell of the cigarette.

"What?" Izaya chokes out between a small cough as he tries to expel any smoke from his lungs.

"I said I don't know. That's my answer."

Izaya's eyebrows furrow together and his lips press into a thin line. His frustration is at its limit.

"What do you mean you don't know. It's a simple question. Think Shizuo. Just think for one damn second, think of what I'm asking of you," Izaya snaps, and so does Shizuo, with the intensity of his rage quickly mirroring Izaya's.

"What the fuck do you want me to say? What the hell is this even about? Why do you have to be so damn cryptic about every damn thing that comes out of your damn, flea mouth? For once, Izaya. For one god damn time, why won't you just tell me what the fuck do you actually want from me?" he retaliates as he quickly shoots up from the bench to stand, looking down at Izaya.

And Izaya refuses to be looked down on. Mimicking Shizuo's actions, he quickly bolts up as well, except after he's on his feet again, he jumps up on the bench they'd just been sitting on and looks down at Shizuo. What does he want? It's as good a question as any. His breath is harsh and his lungs burn from the cold and his first thought is that all he wants is to be warm. That same warmth that has him losing his mind. All he wants is to stop thinking about it.

"I don't want anything from you. I don't want anything to do with you. Yet for some reason, here we are, stuck together for the past ten, long years. And no matter what I do, it seems that I just can't shake you off because you know why? You know why your very existence continually plagues my otherwise perfect life? Because, get this, we're-" Izaya stops himself for a moment. A slight hesitation, prompting Shizuo to take a step closer to him, staring up at Izaya with darkened eyes, and Izaya glaring down at him with narrowed red rimmed ones.

"What? Just spit it out already," Shizuo hisses through gritted teeth, fist clenched at his sides and just itching to break that park bench Izaya is standing on, if only to knock him off his high horse. It's almost as if their anger is shared between them, hopping from one to the other, each time getting stronger and stronger. Izaya knows he shouldn't even be getting this angry but it's as if Shizuo's irritation is making him feel just as equally annoyed. He should be happy at his feat of making Shizuo angry, yet what he needs to do is defuse the situation.

"Shinra. Shinra thinks… it's because we're…soulmates," Izaya finally utters that awful word he'd been dreading bringing up the entire night. Shizuo tilts his head back slightly and Izaya can tell from the look in his eyes that he's deep in thought. He takes another drag of his cigarette. It's almost finished by now.

"That's-"

"Ridiculous, I know. I know that. It's absurd, and yet… and yet all this shit keeps on happening to me, it feels like I'm losing my mind. Like you're making me lose my mind," Izaya breathes out and watches the shifts in Shizuo's expression as the gears turn in his head, processing what Izaya had just said. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out, as if he's too stunned or simply doesn't know what to say, and Izaya supposes that's expected; being hit with such a ludicrous claim can make one be at a loss for words. So, Izaya waits patiently for Shizuo to gather his thoughts. For the protozoan, this comes in the form of finishing that god awful cigarette of his. He inhales the toxic air for clarity, and although Izaya had otherwise been appalled by the putrid smell of smoke, he finds that now it doesn't bother him in the slightest. On the contrary, he feels drawn to the harmful assortment of chemicals wrapped up in pristine white paper.

As Shizuo pulls the cigarette away from his lips, Izaya leans forward and gently pries it from him, his frozen fingers brushing over the addicting warmth of Shizuo's hand for just a split second. At this point, he could very well say that it is addicting, just like the nicotine fix he's so desperately craving.

Before Shizuo can get his cigarette back, Izaya takes it and places it between his cracked lips. He inhales sharply, smoke infiltrating his oral cavity. Shizuo watches him intensely with an expression of pure shock and astonishment.

"Since when do you smoke?" He asks. With a smug smile, Izaya breathes the smoke into his lungs only to…

He reels over forward and begins coughing uncontrollably. His lungs burn with an unfamiliar sensation and he tries to expel the toxic air out, desperate to replace it with oxygen so that he may once again breathe. His tongue tastes bitter and he scrunches his face in disgust as if he'd just eaten something completely putrid.

Shizuo awkwardly steps closer and wraps his arms around him in order to give him a tentative pat on the back. His action is somewhat helpful in expelling the toxic air out of his lungs, even if for Izaya, it just feels as if someone is throwing bricks at him. He allows himself to lean forward and actually rests his forehead against Shizuo's shoulder, too drained to even think about why he shouldn't be doing such a thing in the first place.

"Since apparently I also love sugar and dairy and constantly feel the urge to break things and…" Izaya stops speaking for a moment as he catches a whiff of some distinct smell. Something familiar to him. He sniffs at it Shizuo's neck in order to get a better picture of what it may be, only for Shizuo to roughly grab him by the shoulders and push him back.

"What the fuck?" he asks and all Izaya can do is just stare at him, wide eyed.

"Why… do you smell like my favorite soap?"

At this moment, Izaya thinks that there may be some hope yet that Shizuo is just as miserable as he is, subjected to the same form of torturous anguish. It's such a simple thing, the scent of soap, but it's very expensive soap. Very, very expensive soap Izaya doubts Shizuo would ever be able to afford. Not to mention, the scent doesn't suit him at all. There isn't any reason Shizuo would ever buy such a product, which has Izaya going down a slippery slope, delving further into the mentality of "surely, Shizuo must be just as crazy as me".

Or maybe he's just grasping at straws.

"It was on sale, smelled nice, and I bought is. Ya have a problem with my fucking soap now, flea?"

Still gripping his shoulders, Shizuo moves his hands to grasp Izaya's collar, sharply tugging at his coat and consequently lifting him off the park bench. Izaya gives off a small yelp and wiggles his feet, desperate for contact with the ground. He grabs onto Shizuo's wrists to try and ease his grip, since the coat is now uncomfortably digging into his throat.

"N-no, look. Let me just…start over. Put me down and I'll explain," Izaya finally relents, casting aside his pride. The lengths he has to go to...

So Shizuo puts him down, and Izaya tells him the truth, and nothing but the truth. He starts with talking about the desk, how he'd broken his finger, the strange dreams he'd been having, the incident with the bookshelf, and not to mention the way Shizuo's touch feels different (though Izaya explicitly avoids mentioning that it, in fact, feels good). Shizuo, for the most part, nods along to everything he says without complaint. At the end of his speech, Shizuo finally gives Izaya the answer he'd been waiting for.

"I guess I've been going through similar things. I've had this weird craving for tuna for a while now… "

Izaya isn't sure whether he wants to laugh or cry. Laugh, because he's not going crazy after all. Cry, because it means Shinra's hypothesis is right. The only aspect of this whole soulmate thing he finds comfort in is the fact that all these things are just bodily symptoms part of an affliction, as he likes to call it. A disease that he will hopefully be able to find a cure to. All that he has to do is identify the cause of said ailment and eliminate it.

"Why is it like this?" Shizuo asks expectantly, as if reading Izaya's mind. As if Izaya even has the answer to begin with. He shrugs his shoulders. His best bet is…

"If I had to guess…" He trails. A moment of hesitation, because he has a feeling Shizuo will not like the theory he has to present.

"It's because of that girl of yours."

For a moment, Shizuo looks confused, trying to decipher what Izaya is even on about in the first place.

"Who? Vorona?" he finally asks, and Izaya groans in frustration because of how long it had taken Shizuo to reach that conclusion.

"Yes, exactly. Her. This all started because of her."

"Don't drag other people into your own problems."

"It's not my problem, it's our problem," Izaya snaps, and Shizuo snaps right back at him.

"It's not her problem so don't fucking involve other people in your own shit."

"Your relationship with her is what started this entire bloody mess to begin with, so you need to take responsibility for that and cut off contact with her," Izaya states, crossing his arms and giving Shizuo a look that could only read as that of a parent scolding a child. Izaya can already see the answer in Shizuo's eyes. No. Hell to the no, that must be what he wants to say. Whether it be his attachment to her, or just his own selfish desire to annoy Izaya. Whatever it is, Izaya is sure Shizuo will refuse to comply.

"No. That makes no fucking sense," Shizuo responds.

"Life doesn't make sense," Izaya argues right back at him, his tone low and resentful.

"It's just a series of meaningless events we try to give meaning to. And we stick to routines to feel safe."

As per usual, Shizuo looks at Izaya with great skepticism, never quite able to understand what's on his mind or what he means.

"What the hell are you saying now?"

"I'm saying, you need to do this so we can go back to how we were. To hating each other, to always trying to kill each other. Isn't that what you want too?" Izaya pesters, trying his best to sound persuasive but just coming off as borderline desperate. To his surprise, Shizuo's retort comes out as being far too calm.

"Is that what you want?"

"Of course! That's exactly what I want," Izaya scoffs.

"I hate you so much I can barely even stand to look at you, and yet I can't escape you because of this…this thing between us. I absolutely detest it. I refuse to let it dictate my feelings for you."

But Shizuo should already know that. He should know, so why does he look so…so…sad? So betrayed, as if Izaya had just taken his switchblade and thrust it straight into his heart; a sight Izaya would otherwise loved to have seen, yet was positively unamused by right now. A strange feeling worms itself into the pit of Izaya's stomach and he has a flashback to six days ago. And suddenly, he's standing in front of the elevator again, with his laughs echoing around the hallway.

"Don't tell me… That's not what you want? What, you actually want to entertain this preposterous idea? To mend our twisted relationship? Don't make me laugh, Shizu-chan. Such a thing would be absolutely asinine," he mocks. He should shut up now. He should definitely shut up now. He should have shut his damn mouth five sentences ago.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Shizuo, by now, is seething with rage. There it is, the anger Izaya is so used to seeing. The anger that is a part of their usual routine. The anger that reminds him just how much of a monster Shizuo truly is. Izaya merely smirks, a mocking sort of sneer. The whole situation is so bitterly hilarious in itself.

"Me? There's nothing wrong with me. You're the one who has a problem and refuses to do what I ask. Like always, Shizu-chan is too stupid to think rationally. Do us both a favor and cut that girl out of your life so I can stop experiencing the living hell that is being somehow emotionally and physically bound to you."

That's all Izaya wants.

That's all he thinks he wants.

But Shizuo, being Shizuo, always has to get in the way of his plans.

"No."

People are self serving creatures. They are selfish and egotistical, and will often favor convenience above all else. Shizuo, however, is not human. Only a mad man would sacrifice his own wellbeing out of pure spite. A madman, or a man in love.

"What do you mean 'No'? Is this girl really that important to you?" Izaya says with so much malice, it's a wonder his lithe frame can even fit all that animosity.

"No. I'm not going to do that. Yea, Vorona is important to me but that's not-"

Izaya lifts his hand up to stop Shizuo from uttering any further words. He doesn't want to hear it, this mushy confession of love. Already, the mere phrase "Yea, Vorona is important" has him feeling as if a weight of a thousand bricks had been dropped on his head. His temples are already starting to hurt, his thoughts becoming somewhat muddled. In a sense, it's a weight that brings Izaya down to his knees, with the illusion of the perfect world shattering around him.

"How typical of you, Shizu-chan, letting your emotions dictate your choices instead of your brain. Do you even have a brain up there? Because it doesn't seem like you do," Izaya says, his voice now starting to border on shouting.

"Is that all you can do? Keep shoving insults in my face and calling me stupid?" Shizuo shouts back and takes a step closer to Izaya, with his fist already raised and ready to strike.

"Because that's all that you are. Just a stupid protozoan who always gets in my way. And I'd love nothing more than for you to disappear, even if I have to be the one to make you," Izaya huffs out in a hurry. All too quickly, he shoves his hands inside his pockets and pulls out his switchblade (he'd gotten a new one since Shizuo had broken the last one). He lunges forward, pointing it straight at Shizuo's ribcage, only to have Shizuo intercept it with his palm. He grabs a hold of Izaya's hand, fingers closing in to the point Izaya is forced to drop the weapon, uttering out a sharp cry of pain as Shizuo applies more and more pressure to his hand.

"Get out of here," Shizuo spits out as he tugs on Izaya's hand and pulls him closer so that he can stare deep into his eyes with one of the deathliest glares he'd ever given Izaya. Izaya flinches back slightly, his heart beating fast and his breath low and unsteady. Yet he doesn't back down. Instead, he challenges Shizuo's authority.

"I'm not going anywhere until you do what I told you to," he says through gritted teeth. A low growl rumbles from the depths of Shizuo's throat.

"Get. The. Hell. Out," he repeats, but Izaya refuses to listen. In that sense, they're much more alike than it seems. Both too stubborn to concede.

"No. It's a public park. I don't have to go anywhere. You don't want to be near me then you leave," Izaya retorts. In the following seconds, Shizuo proceeds to glare at Izaya. Just glare, no movements. Then, he drops his arm and takes a step back.

"Then I will."

What. The. Fuck?

Izaya is left absolutely stunned and at a loss of words. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out at first except for the thin cloud of condensed air slipping out past his pale lips. At first, Izaya isn't sure he'd even heard correctly, until Shizuo turns on his heel and starts walking away in the opposite direction from him.

"N-no, Shizu-chan. You can't just do that," He shouts, taking a few light jogs to chase after him. He gets close enough to tug at Shizuo's coat sleeve, but Shizuo merely jerks his arm and sends Izaya stumbling back, making him nearly lose his balance.

"You can't just leave me like this. You can't! This is so fucking unfair! Why? Why me? Why am I the one who has to be stuck with such a stupid, moronic, brainless, irrational monster like you?" He screams, stomping his foot so hard against the ground, he can feel an unpleasant jolt shoot up his leg. Maybe. Maybe if Izaya can prod at Shizuo's temper and unleash that ever flowing anger, then maybe he can force him to stop.

"I wish you would just die, Shizu-chan. I truly wish you could just drop dead and die. You and that girl. I wish you both drop dead. Then all of my problems would disappear."

And indeed, Shizuo does stop. He does turn. And he does face Izaya with the most sorrow filled expression Izaya has even seen him make.

"Goodbye, Izaya." *

Those words are like a knife to his heart, twisting and turning with each step Shizuo takes away from him. The same knife Izaya had tried to plunge into Shizuo's chest, ricochet and hit him back, straight in between the ribs. His legs go numb. He can't make himself move even one inch. He feels completely powerless. Too powerless to stop Shizuo, and he hates it. He hates how his body trembles and how his lip quivers.

"S-shizu-chan?" He asks, still in disbelief over Shizuo's actions. The scene in front of him is like a fever induced mirage. He opens his mouth once again to shout, yet his own words are like a muffled blur.

"Shizu-chan! I'm talking to you! Stop."

But to no avail. Shizuo walks off, with the rising sun now illuminating his tall frame, as well as the absolutely petrified expression on Izaya's face.

"Heiwajima Shizuo!"

Even the usage of Shizuo's full name does nothing to stop the receding blur of Shizuo's shadow from shrinking in size.

"Not you too."

The words come out in a whisper, but even if Izaya had been speaking at a normal volume, Shizuo wouldn't have heard him.

He's already long gone.

"Don't leave me."