Izaya's throat hurt. He needed a drink of water and not having that water was causing a headache to start. He groaned as he opened his eyes.
His eyes widened as horror filled his chest. He didn't know where he was. He had no clue where he was! He stared up at a high rise ceiling with metal beams across it. There was also huge, white, web-like clusters stringing across the roof. Besides the webs, it reminded him of a warehouse.
A quick turn of his head confirmed that as he saw metal rows of shelves. They were all filled with mannequin parts. Heads, torsos, arms, legs. Some were in one piece as full body plastic humans and some were broken apart in separate pieces. Some were covered in plastic for packaging, others were free and propped up against the shelves. None of them had stands.
'Where am...I was at the asylum. Is this a warehouse behind the asylum? Why would they have a warehouse at an asylum?'
Izaya was extremely cold. He could tell by the elevation that he was on a table or desk and from the chill, it had to be metal. But what was strange was that he felt it against his back and only against his upper thighs.
He went to get up, but he couldn't move. Terror gripped him. Was he chained down again?! He quickly looked at himself. His eyes widened anew.
His clothes were completely gone. He stared down at his naked form, his skin stained red from the nurse bloodbath he had earlier. There was nothing holding him down. No cuffs or chains. He just couldn't move.
However, that wasn't the worse thing about his body. Not the most terrifying thing. Izaya's legs were gone. They were cut off in a crooked angle along his upper thighs, making his left stump just a bit longer than his right.
'My-my legs...My legs! No, wait, this is—this isn't—I'm dreaming! I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming!'
He didn't feel blood under him, so it could be a dream. It should be a dream. Another terrible nightmare where the pyramid head cut off his legs. That's happened before. It's happened a few times. So, this had to be a dream!
But it was hard to deny it. He wanted to deny it. However, he clearly remembered the asylum, the examination room filled with nurses. He remembered Dark Pyramid swinging his blade around. Surprisingly, he doesn't remember the pain. He wouldn't be surprised if his memory was blocking it or something to that effect. Although, it was extremely hard to think when he was panicking, he certainly remembered his legs were in pain.
He couldn't feel pain in them now. He tried to move his leg—to see if it was real, to see if it would hurt—but he was immobilized. He couldn't move at all. He might as well be glued to the table. He was only able to moved his head and not very far. It was entirely possible his nerve endings were numb thanks to the shock and that was why. Or maybe this was a sleep paralysis dream. He'd never had one before, but maybe this was a new way for Alessa to torture him.
However, he hadn't dreamed at all while in Silent Hill. His nights had been barren of anything but sleep since his arrival. As much as he would like to pretend it was just a nightmare, he couldn't rule out the obvious option that he was awake and fully aware of his situation. If this wasn't a dream, if everything he remembered really happened, then there was no way he wasn't bleeding. He felt cold, so he could only assume he was close to bleeding out.
Izaya tilted his head back, panting heavily as he looked around the room. He needed to move. He needed to get medical attention for his legs. He needed to get out of this weird warehouse.
'How did I get here?! What's going on?! How do I get out of this?!'
"A-Alessa!" Izaya looked around. "Alessa, where are you?!"
There was no response. Izaya waited with bated breath, but he heard nothing.
The informant clenched his teeth hard. He closed his eyes tight shut and slammed his head against the table.
'So, that's it then? Everything I've done for you means nothing. The real Alessa wouldn't allow this, but I guess Dark Alessa has more control. She's not bedridden, after all.'
Izaya let out a heavy sigh as he opened his eyes. His expression was calm as he let his head loll.
'You don't get to go behind the back of a demonic entity and live to tell the tale. Seems I brought this on myself. I guess I shouldn't have expected anything else from a demon.'
Izaya tried to move his arms again but no luck. He was frozen to the table.
Ah, dammit! I don't want to die! I have to...Explain myself to Shizu-chan. I have to tell him what really happened. I...'
"I don't want to die like this." Izaya closed his eyes. "At least give me back my clothes. Why'd you take them in the first place?"
Something clattered to the ground, making Izaya jump. He looked over. Two mannequin heads fell to the floor from the third shelf closest to the cleared space. His heart started thundering in his chest. He wasn't alone in here. The shelves were a few feet away from him, empty space between him and those shelves. Although it was actually pretty far, that provided no comfort. He still couldn't move, so whatever had knocked those mannequins over could easily come for him.
What if it was Alessa? What if it wasn't Alessa? He couldn't defend himself, so something could easily tear him limb from limb! Is that what this was? Some kind of sacrifice to a monster?
Something jumped up by his side. He gasped and jolted to feeling soft fur against him. He quickly looked down. A long-haired crème-colored cat looked up at him, his eyes red and terribly disturbing.
"...Tsukishima?"
The cat rubbed against his side.
"Why are you—"
A mannequin arm fell from the shelf, drawing both of their attention. A short-haired black cat with red eyes stood on the third shelf. The cat hissed before hopping down.
"Roppi too? What are you—"
The cat hissed as he ran over and hopped on the table. His slitted eyes looked at Izaya with hatred. For a moment, Izaya was worried that the cat was going to claw his face or something like that. But instead, the cat grabbed Tsuki by his scruff. The blond cat was smaller than him by a little bit, so Roppi was able to lift him up just enough that his front paws left the table.
Roppi turned and hopped down, dragging Tsukishima with him. They were out of sight for a moment until they were back to the shelves. Roppi tugged on Tsuki's scruff before letting go and jumping up. Tsuki hesitated before following as well.
"Hey, what's going on?" Izaya glared at them.
Neither said anything.
"I know you can talk while in cat form! Answer me!"
Silence met him.
Izaya glared at him. "You—"
His accusations were cut as he felt a horrific stabbing pain in his toes. But he didn't have any toes! How could he feel anything in a body part that was cut off?!
Izaya looked down. His eyes stretched wide to see plastic toes of a mannequin forming where his feet would have been. He didn't understand how. He didn't understand why. All he really understood was that it hurt. BAD!
Izaya tilted his head back with a call of pain. His eyes stretched wide with confusion. It felt like needles were burrowing deep into every pore that no longer existed. The tips of those needles were boiling hot, like molten metal. He was in pure agony.
To make it worse, it was only stretching down his nonexistent feet. It only became worse as the stabbing burn covered more area. Izaya tilted his head back, smacking his skull into the metal table as he called out.
"WHAT IS GOING ON?!" Izaya screamed. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO ME?!"
There was no response.
"ROPPI! TSUKI!" Izaya looked over at them.
Tsuki shrunk down under Roppi while the black cat just glared.
The piercing heat made it to his ankle, where it intensified and became unbearable. They burrowed deep into the joint, stabbing into the rotating ball. The more the ball formed, the more painful it became. Izaya tilted his head back and screamed. His throat immediately started to hurt, but he didn't care. It was nothing in comparison.
"ST-ST-STOP! STOP IT!"
No one responded to him. He might as well be alone. His vision spun as his lungs ached. Izaya closed his eyes tight shut and clenched his teeth. He inhaled deeply through his nose and exhaled out through his mouth. He repeated this breathing pattern to the point he was getting lightheaded from it. He called out again before turning his head to the side.
The pain finally passed his ankles, where it became almost bearable. He groaned as he bit his bottom lip. He tasted blood but didn't care. Slowly, the molten needles worked up his shins. It made an arduous crawl up, up, up. He panted heavily before coughing and calling out.
"Enough...! ENOUGH! I DON'T WANT THIS!"
The only response was his own echoing scream.
The needles made it to his knees, where the pain spiked again. The pain was so unbearable, so agonizing, that Izaya couldn't scream. He gasped as his vision spun. His head went numb as his eyelids felt heavy. His world was starting to darken, like before.
However, something prickled in his mind. He remembered something, a voice from a foggy place in his mind.
"He was so close. If only he hadn't fainted..."
He doesn't know where he heard those words, but he remembered them. He knew they were said. He knew Alessa said them. What's more, he certainly remembered what Alessa said before.
"So long as you stay awake, the pain and suffering will be your doorway out of Silent Hill."
'Wha...Wait, was that the plan from the beginning? She sicced Dark Pyramid on me with the intent to maim. But I fainted—'
Izaya screamed as the pain burrowed deep to the middle of where his knees would be—deep into the ball of the hinge joint. He wanted to struggle, he wanted to get out of this terrible situation and run as far away as he could. He wanted to get away from the pain!
But if he was right, if his memories were accurate about what he heard Alessa say, then he had to endure. He had to keep himself from fainting. He had to stay awake, else he couldn't get out. And he wanted to get out! He wanted to be done with this morbid place!
The burning agony finally passed his knees. He breathed a groan of relief—as much relief as he could have. This was far more manageable than before. It still hurt, excruciatingly so, but he could deal with this.
The molten stabs only continued up his nonexistent thighs. He groaned through clenched teeth, closing his eyes tight shut. He huffed hard before calling out in pain.
He threw his head to the side, gasping hard before growling in pain. His eyes opened to gaze upon the two cats on the shelf. They were still watching, not moving. Rage built in Izaya's chest.
"FUCK THE BOTH OF YOU!" Izaya yelled. "IF I DON'T LEAVE FROM THIS, I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU BOTH!"
The black cat hissed while the creme-colored one hunkered under Roppi more.
Izaya glared at them with pure hatred. The pain spiked all of a sudden. He didn't know why it suddenly became worse nor did he really cared. All he cared about was the fact that it was happening. He turned his head away from the cats, calling out once again. He glared up at the ceiling as he clenched his teeth.
The stabbing didn't stop. It only spread further and further up his thighs. He could feel it was centimeter's from reaching the stump of his left leg. The burning only intensified. He soon realized why that was. The closer it got to his actual flesh, the worse it became. The pain because unbearable once again! Izaya arched his back. He wished he could dig his nails in, to distribute the pain to something else, but he just couldn't move!
'Endure! Endure, endure, endure! You have to—'
The boiling jabs finally connected with the decapitated stump of his left leg. He felt every little needle stitch into every fiber of his limb. He felt it stab into the skin, the muscles, the bone, even the marrow. It interwove with as much as it could and fastened around it with a soldering heat, as if welding itself together.
Izaya's leg was in the worse pain he had ever felt. Losing his legs didn't hurt nearly as bad as this! His vision went white with the most profound pain he had ever felt. His lungs boiled. His stomach clenched. He screamed as loud as he vocals could go.
There was a passage of time that Izaya wasn't aware of. He knew he didn't faint but his mind went numb. For a moment, he didn't feel anything. He wouldn't be surprised if his mind couldn't even process the pain and so he just stopped functioning for a few seconds.
Although, for just a fraction of a second, he swore he might have heard the honking of cars.
Eventually though, much faster than he would like, it all came flooding back to him. The stabbing needles returned to him, filling his right leg. His left leg was throbbing from whatever had connected with the stump. His right leg was still going, still trailing with white-hot needles into his very pores.
Izaya coughed, threatening to vomit. He swallowed hard and choked it down before coughing again. He wanted this to end. He wanted to be done with this! It hurt, it hurt, it hurt!
'Just let it be over!'
Up, up, up, up, the stabbing slowly crawled. It pierced into every millimeter of nonexistent flesh, searing and brutal. Izaya gasped as he tilted his head back. He couldn't scream. His throat was in so much pain. His head was spinning. His face was so hot while his hands were cold. He groaned and bit his bottom lip.
Soon enough, thankfully soon, it was over. But of course, that wasn't a blessing since that meant whatever-it-was connected with the stump of Izaya's leg—and meant that the wretched pain from before returned. The flesh and the bone were being stabbed by the intruding thing. As it sowed his limb to that burning pain, it melted itself to the stump of his leg.
The pain was so intense, enough so that he didn't care to get out anymore. He wasn't sure how he hadn't fainted at that point but he just wanted to now. He wanted to fall unconscious. He wanted to get out of this situation by whatever means necessary. He didn't want to deal with this anymore!
All he knew was that pain. All he knew was the white-hot agony in his legs, the intruding burn burrowing deep into his skin, his muscles, his bones. He didn't know how long he was stuck like that, suspended over a wretched pit of torment and suffering. All he really knew was that he needed to scream. Which is just what he did.
Izaya closed his eyes tight shut, arching and tilting his head back, and screamed as loud as his voice could go. His throat immediately hurt from the strain and sheer power of it, but it was nothing in comparison to the pain in his leg. His voice echoed around him, filling his ears with his own wail. Even with his eyes closed, his vision was filled with that white-hot pain. It was all he could see. It was all he could process. Nothing else mattered but that agony.
He wasn't sure how long he was screaming for. He wasn't sure if he was even making noise anymore from how strained his throat felt. He didn't know anything. But soon enough, he was free from the pain. All that was left was a light throb in his limb.
Izaya groaned and left limp against the table. Relief encased him.
'Is it...finally over?' He wondered, panting heavily. 'Are you done torturing me, Alessa?'
He opened his eyes. His vision was blurry and it was so bright all of a sudden. His eyes hurt, so he closed them again.
'Wait...' He realized. 'Bright?'
Izaya forced his eyes open. Then they widened. The ceiling he had been looking up at—dark, rusted, and covered in strange, giant webs—was gone. In its place was a plane gray ceiling made of concrete. The room he was in was significantly smaller too.
'What...happened? Where...'
Izaya could hear the honking of cars outside. A quick glance over showed a paneless window that filtered in bright sunlight. It still hurt his eyes to look at, but he didn't particularly care anymore.
He wasn't in the same building he had been in. He wasn't in the same place he had been in. The gray sky raining ashes was gone. The abandoned ghost town where finding life was harder than trying to avoid the monsters.
There was no doubt about it.
'I got out of Silent Hill...'
Izaya lifted his hand. He could move. He wasn't trapped anymore. Whatever hold had been over him was relinquished. He was free.
The relief that took him over was enough to make him cry. He clenched his teeth hard as tears misted over his vision. He put the palms of his bloodstained hands over his eyes as a small sob escaped him.
"So, how was your visit with Heiwajima-san?" Kida asked.
Mikado looked at his old friend. Him, Kida and Anri—now twenty-seven—decided to meet up for lunch after being separated for so long. Work and life in general had kept them apart. Although, not Mikado and Anri in particular. More so the three of them as a unite had been separated. After all, Kida was married with a kid on the way and Mikado and Anri just bought their first house. They had been plenty busy.
Things had certainly became strained between the trio during the Dollar's purging. A lot of things happened, there were guns involved, and eventually the Dollar's were disbanded. After that, it was time for them to focus on their lives as they left high school and became adults. Mikado and Anri started a relationship while Kida and Saki became more involved with theirs.
Now, at ten years—only a few months away from eleven years—the two pairs of high school sweethearts officially married. Kida popped the question to Saki years ago, while Mikado—ever the late bloomer—didn't ask for Anri's hand until they turned 25. Less than a two years ago, the two were only dating. Yet, they were engaged for less than a year before marrying.
But better late than never. They were married now and that was all that mattered. The newlyweds had been spending the last year doing as newlyweds do.
After being separated for so long, Mikado, Kida, and Anri decided to meet up. Saki decided to stay home since her feet hurt and this was a meetup between friends. However, Mikado and Anri decided to meet with Heiwajima Shizuo. Mikado still hadn't apologized to Shizuo and Anri never thanked him for protecting her against the slasher. They thought they wouldn't get a chance since they thought he died, but it seemed as if they got their second chance.
In which they took that chance and went to visit Shizuo before meeting up with Kida for lunch.
"Well, it was...interesting. He didn't remember me though." Mikado said.
"He kind of remembered me." Anri stated in a soft voice. "But he couldn't remember my name."
"Yeah, but now that I think about it, I don't think he and I talked all that much while he was in the Dollars."
Kida nodded. "I only talked to him once too. I'm not sure if he'll remember me either. It's been ten years after all."
"W-well..." Anri started, "From what Heiwajima-san said, he was only gone for a few months."
Kida cocked a brow. "No way. Had he been in a coma since he disappeared?"
"Not from what Shizuo-san said. Although he said a lot of fantastical things. About getting taken by a demon to a different realm."
"Well, that's not that unrealistic. What with Celty-san in the picture."
They all nodded.
"But he said something even crazier than that." Mikado added.
Anri nodded while Kida looked curious.
"He said that he and Izaya-san had become friends."
Kida's eyes stretched wide.
"He said in that hell dimension, they had to protect each other. That everything was trying to kill them and Izaya-san saved his life at one point."
"No way!" Kida balked. "That's not remotely possible!"
"But," Anri added, "He also stated that Orihara-san betrayed him."
"Now that I can believe."
"Although," Mikado interjected, "He also said that Izaya-san's betrayal may be the reason he got out."
Kida glowered. "As if that snake would ever help Heiwajima Shizuo. They hate each other."
"That's what I thought too. But Heiwajima-san seemed really upset when he talked about Izaya-san betraying him."
Kida's glower only grew. But he didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say.
Instead, he decided to change the subject entirely.
"Hey, isn't that the building of the old Blue Squares headquarters?" The brunette pointed.
The trio looked over. Up ahead was a two story concrete building that Mikado barely recognized. But as soon as he did, many memories came flooding to him. He remembered all the times he and Aoba had spent in that abandoned building. Meeting Izumii Ran, getting handed a gun...
Mikado decided not to remember that. Instead, he just looked at the building. He opened his mouth to say something.
But nothing came out as a gut-wrenching scream tore through the air. Their eyes widened instead. It was coming from the direction of the house, without question.
"What—"
Without hesitation, Mikado started running over.
"Ah, Mikado-kun!"
"Mikado!"
Anri gave chase, followed closely by Kida.
Izaya groaned as he sat up. He finally composed himself and decided it was time to move. He was naked after all. If anyone found him, it would be quite an awkward explanation, stark bare while covered in blood...
He felt his feet scrape against the concrete. It was a strange texture that sounded like plastic rubbing against the ground. He questioned it for a moment, before he realized something was far more pressing about that sensation.
He had feet.
He looked down at himself. Sure enough, he had legs now. Movable, functioning legs. But they were that of a mannequins. They attached to the stumps of his thighs, being quite obvious since the legs were the color of a porcelain dolls while his skin was obviously toned with Asian flare. He could see the ball-and-socket joints of his ankles and knees, compact in place so they wouldn't pop out easily. But they certainly could, without question. There was nothing over them to keep it from popping out of their fasteners. No film, texture or mock skin to keep it together.
'...Well, looks like I need to be careful not to knock into anything.'
A part of Izaya wanted to panic. He wanted to be horrified that his legs were gone, horrified that he could move his new prosthetics as easily as he would his own legs, horrified that they the mannequin legs were actually attached to his body like a macabre cyborg. There was so much wrong with what he was looking at!
He registered that. He was fully aware of that. But he decided not to feed into that panic. After everything he had been through, he should just be happy he had legs at all.
'I wonder, if I hadn't fainted when Dark Pyramid cut off my legs, would I have been transported to...wherever this is and bled out.'
Izaya eyes narrowed at the thought.
'Did Dark Alessa plan to give me the freedom she promised but kill me in the process for going behind her back? Wouldn't hold it pass her.'
Izaya clenched his teeth. Then he let out a heavy sigh.
'Could've been worse though.'
His toes didn't have the same ball-and-socket joints, which he was honestly thankful for. The pain from the ankles and knees was enough to make him faint again. If he had to stay awake through all 28 hinge joints, he wouldn't have made it.
'Alessa probably did that on purpose. She wanted me to suffer for my crime, after all. And maybe she still wanted me to get out of Silent Hill...Maybe she was being merciful too. At least she gave me legs I can use.'
Izaya shook his head.
'It doesn't matter. I'm out, and I'm not going back. I just need to roll with the punches now.'
With newfound determination, Izaya lifted his gaze from his legs.
'Clothes, find something to put on.'
Izaya looked around. The room was barren. The concrete house was obviously abandoned with only a few crates in it. He saw a tarp on one of those boxes. It looked dusty but untouched. It would have to do for now.
The raven put his feet underneath himself and pushed up. He went nowhere. The plastic just slid across the concrete. He plopped back onto his bare rump.
'Ah, shit, this is going to be difficult. There's no traction...'
Izaya decided not to try again. He figured it was going to bear similar results, after all. So, instead, he shimmied across the floor on his hands, lifting his rump off the ground. He made it over to the crate and pulled the tarp down.
It was too big to make into a kilt. He was going to have to make a toga with it. Izaya went about doing just that.
Soon enough, he had the black, crinkly fabric wrapped around his body. He tied it around his waist then over his shoulders. So long as the knots didn't come undone, he'll be okay.
He then reached up and put his hands on the crate. He used his upper body strength to pull himself up. His feet slid wildly under him, but he kept his arms planted. He struggled to find any footing, but that was extremely, extremely difficult with these new feet.
Izaya groaned with his efforts.
"Hey!"
Izaya jolted to the voice. Survival instinct kicked in, telling him to arm himself and run quickly. He quickly looked around. There was a wrench right by the crate. It'll have to do for now. Izaya grabbed it and pushed himself up, so he was sitting on the box.
"Is anyone here?! What happened?!"
He heard someone running up the stairs. He carefully planted his feet on the ground. If he moved slow enough, he wouldn't slide everywhere. That wouldn't be an option if he had to go on the attack, but he had to try.
"Are you okay?!"
The individual came to the top of the stairs. A man older than Izaya with black hair and blue eyes looked at him. There was something familiar about him, but the informant wasn't sure what. Right behind him came a woman with a prominent bust and rounded glasses. She was also familiar. She looked like Sonohara Anri, just much older. The last individual was another man with brown hair and a yellow jacket. Izaya, again, recognized him, but couldn't place it.
Killer instinct was taking over. He had to put these people down before they put him down—or worse, dragged him back to that asylum. Or maybe burn him alive to make him the incubator. There were a thousand and one options these fanatics could do to him.
But wait. They were all Asian, and he had already come to the conclusion he was out of Silent Hill. All of the offenders to Alessa's wrath were white American's. He hadn't seen a single ethnic diversity amongst them—Although it was hard to notice much of anything back then when they were all being murdered and his main concern was on Shizuo. And regardless, there was no way he was still in Silent Hill. It was too bright. Too clean. Too tranquil.
All three pairs of eyes widened as they stared at the man covered in blood.
"I-Izaya-san?" The blue-eyed man voiced.
"Are we in Silent Hill?" Izaya asked, his hand tightening on the wrench.
"What?"
"Are we in Silent Hill?!" Izaya yelled.
They all jolted.
"What town are we in?!"
"I-Ikebukuro!"
"Japan?"
"Yes!"
Izaya glared. Then he visibly relaxed. "So, you're someone who knew me before we went there."
They all nodded.
Izaya let out a heavy sigh of relief. He leaned back against the box and rubbed a hand over his face. The shift in movement made his feet slide. His eyes stretched wide as they slipped right out from under him. He called out in surprise as his feet flew up. He managed to keep one arm on the box but the rest of him slammed to the concrete. The only thing that hurt was his rump. He couldn't feel it in his legs—but without a doubt, his pride hurt more.
Izaya glowered at the three.
"I ask that you don't question my lack of grace." He growled. "These new legs don't have any traction."
They all stared for a moment.
"New...legs?" The blue-eyed man voiced.
Izaya smirked. "Well, yes. I'm sure the last time you saw me, I didn't have prosthetic legs. But they'll have to do."
"Pros..." His eyes widened along with the other two. "I-Izaya-san! What happened?! How are you alive?!"
"Ah, don't sound too disappointed." Izaya groaned. He pulled himself up so he could sit properly. "I knew Silent Hill's monsters as well as I know this city. Of course I'd survive."
"Although your certainly worse for wear than Shizuo-san if you have prosthetics." The brunette said, crossing his arms with a glower. "He wasn't covered in blood either."
Izaya perked to the name. "Shizu-chan? You've seen him?"
He cocked a brow. "...I didn't, no. Mikado did though."
Izaya nodded. "By Mikado, I assume you mean Ryuugamine Mikado."
"Who else would I mean?"
Izaya tried not to glower. Instead, he kept his smile plastered. "No need to be snippy. If he knows where Shizu-chan is, then if you would be so kind, can I borrow your phone to call him? I don't think Shizu-chan would have his phone yet, so Mikado-kun's my best bet."
"You want to call Mikado?"
"Yes."
The man cocked a brow. "You don't need to. He's right here."
Izaya looked up at him with a cocked brow. The blue-eyed man bowed slightly.
"It's been a long time, Izaya-san." the stranger said, "It's not a surprise you don't recognize me."
Izaya stared at him. He certainly could pass as an older Mikado. But that wasn't possible.
"What trick are you playing at, sir?" Izaya rubbed his hand through his bangs, dried blood flaking off. "You seem to hold a grudge against me, but there's no point to mess with me. I'm not in the mood."
"Do you really not recognize us?"
"I certainly had more important things to worry about in the last...what, four-ish months?" Izaya glared up at him. "Or do you think I'm covered in blood for the fun of it?"
"Four months..." The blue-eyed man started. "Izaya-san, you've been gone for ten years."
Izaya's eyes widened. "Excus—"
"It's true! Look!"
The blue-eyed man rushed over as he pulled out his phone. Izaya's grip tightened on the wrench. He had to force himself not to swing at the stranger claiming to be Mikado.
The man came up to Izaya as he clicked the side button on the smartphone. He turned and showed it to Izaya. The date was on the device. Sure enough, it was July 3rd, ten years pass the last time Izaya looked at a calendar. They had left for Silent Hill in May, so a little over three months passing wouldn't add up to July.
He stared at the numbers for a long minute. He was already playing with the notion that he might have developed dyslexia in the last five minutes. When he was certain that wasn't the case, he glowered.
"It was only three months in Silent Hill." Izaya stated, "I was only a few days behind Shizu-chan. A week, ten days at most. I wasn't—"
"Shizuo-san's been back for half a year now." The brunette said. "A little under half-a-year. About five months now, I think."
"Five...Ten days makes it five months? What is..."
Izaya trailed off as he tilted his his head down. His heart started to pound. His hands went cold.
'Ten years? We've been gone for ten years? How does that even add up? Three months and ten days equals ten years and five months? That doesn't even—and three months equal ten years, but ten days equals five months? There's no logic behind this time gap! There's...!'
Izaya closed his eyes and shook his head harshly. He could not panic. He needed to be calm right now because panicking wasn't going to get him anywhere.
'That...that means everyone I had known had moved on. I had contingency plans for if I disappeared, so certainly Namie-san is okay somewhere with Celty's head. Mikado-kun, Kida-kun, and Anri-chan have become adults now. Saki too. Ah, I wonder if her and Kida got married. My siblings were fifteen when I left. Now they're certainly...'
Izaya held back a laugh. "Ah, looks like I'm not the big brother anymore, it would seem..."
He rubbed his hand over his face then over the back of his neck. Dried blood flakes came off his skin, which made his skin itch a little but he ignored it. If he started itching the blood off, he wouldn't stop and he was probably going to hurt himself.
"I know I haven't aged by ten years while being in Silent Hill." Izaya said, "Nor had Shizu-chan. We're still as young as the day we disappeared. I doubt there were any laws of causality in that place. I doubt my age will be catching up to me. Or maybe I'll remain forever young because of Alessa."
Izaya let out a heavy sigh as he rubbed his hand through his hair.
"I...Izaya-san?" The blue-eyed—no, Mikado, started with uncertainty. "Are you...okay?"
"Okay as I'll be. I have a lot of things I need to sort out now that I'm back. But that can all wait."
Izaya looked up at him with a smile.
"I would like to see Shizu-chan though. I need to know if he's okay."
