A/N: Welcome to my dark romantic comedy guys. This is not a Shizaya story – but I have paid my respects to the Shizaya because it's my frikkin' OTP too. And also, Izaya's Shizuo-complex is a legitimately huge part of his character, especially after the anime finale. My little sister says I need to take this chapter as is, and write a Shizaya story with it someday. She says I have no choice, as it's too good Shizaya material to waste. I might just do that when this story is finished. Shizaya is love, Shizaya is life. Shizaya was my introduction to boy-on-boy love and I have fallen very deep down that rabbit-hole ever since xD

But I want to write something a little different. I want to try something fresh. I want to write a twisted psychological thriller of a love story with Izaya and a woman – an original character of my own making. But before we meet her, I want to prove to you all that I have a handle on his character, so you know I'm not gonna write a 'redemption' story and change Izaya to fit my own narrative.

This is not a story about Izaya getting redeemed. If anything, it's a story about Izaya pulling some terrible shit all over again. It's a story about him being exactly who I believe he is, as I capture him in this chapter. But that doesn't mean he isn't worthy of love. So, I want to write what that might look like. And it's…pretty self-indulgent, but in a really good way. I'm having a lot of fun with it. I think you'll all see what I mean.

But first, let's see what state he's in.


Chapter 1: A Series of Bad Decisions.

Izaya spent most of the night, cloistered in his apartment, trying desperately to find any way to distract himself from the dark places his mind tended to go these days.

He had been hugely unsuccessful.

Where once, Izaya had been a man perfectly content in his own company, able to effortlessly dodge any sort of introspection by focusing on the most exciting ways to ruin the lives of others – he now found his thoughts tended to circle the drain of his own miserable situation no matter what he tried to do.

And if he'd been kept awake for long enough by those thoughts, it was literally the best he could achieve not to have violent flashbacks about the person who had put him in his current state.

He had started the night imagining he might be able to fall asleep if he could just find a single thing that could grab his attention and hold it – anything at all that didn't revolve around his own situation.

Izaya sat in his wheelchair, behind his desk, playing around at his computer. He was scrolling through the rumour mill of Ikkebukuro like a jilted ex-boyfriend, stalking his former lover's social media account to see what they got up to these days. If he had ever been in a normal relationship, he'd know that was a pretty terrible idea when the aim was to feel better about getting dumped.

Nobody was talking about him anymore. It had only been six months since the big fight, and he couldn't find any mention of his name.

Sometimes, Izaya responded out loud to his thoughts like he was having a conversation with his own head, and he was speaking up for the benefit of someone in the room who had been listening in.

"Oya, oya…" he muttered with a frown, "Such short attention-spans you all have. Have you really forgotten about me already?"

Well, we can't have that…

He was possessed by the uncontrollable urge to log in to one of his alt accounts, and try to start a conversation about himself as some anonymous citizen. His mouse darted around the screen, he clacked his keyboard, and moments later he was logged into a public chatroom as somebody named 'Torōru'.

The blinking line where words were supposed to go next, stared at him.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard.

What if somebody figures out its me?

What if word gets back to -

Izaya sneered suddenly, closing the chatroom window and slumping back in his chair. "Forget it," he muttered, with a resentful wave of his hand, "I'll be a good boy and stay away from Ikkebukuro for you, Shizu-chan. Aren't you proud of me? You've finally taught me restraint!"

He laughed a bit insanely, digging his fingers into his damaged legs like he was trying to stab himself with every single one of them. It hurt like hell, but he didn't mind a bit. Shizu-chan really had taken everything from him – from his mobility, to his piece of mind, to his healthy relationship with pain, all the way down to his hobbies. It was one hell of a pound of flesh to demand, but Izaya was willing to pay it.

That's what you did, when you lost to someone so badly.

He shivered, turning his mind away from Shizu-chan after a brief second of squeezing his eyes shut. Sometimes, when Izaya thought about the man that had finally put him in his place, he cringed like he'd just sucked on a lemon right after brushing his teeth.

He turned back to his computer, opening some of his work folders instead.

He was still technically an info broker - he just barely gathered any real information anymore. He did just enough to avoid having to constantly dip into his massive savings account, relying on small jobs more befitting of private investigators than a prodigious informant once exclusively relied on by the Yakuza.

Izaya snorted. "And they probably wouldn't be too charmed to hear from me either," he remarked to nobody, as he began pulling up one of his client's files. It was some business man, who wanted to know if his partner was embezzling money.

Izaya stared down at the list of accounts for some time, with eyes that struggled to focus on the numbers. Once, this sort of job would have presented a fascinating opportunity – how would the two business men react, depending on what information he found and how he chose to reveal it?

How could he make this difficult situation even more intense for them?

Would they kill each other? Forgive each other? Ruin each other's lives?

What exciting new faces of humanity could he provoke into existence?

Now, it was basically just paperwork. He could barely even concentrate on it.

He puffed up his cheeks and blew all his air out in a big, exasperated sigh. "Booooring!" he sang, as he pushed away from the desk so his wheelchair rolled back. "This is so tragic! I think I hate my job now!" he declared, cheerfully.

You beat the fun right out of it for me, Shizu-chan. Humanity commends you, I'm sure.

He scowled, spun his wheelchair around and headed for his kitchen. He should probably eat something before trying to sleep anyway.

Izaya couldn't remember if he'd eaten at all that day.

His apartment rested at the top of a big, beautiful skyscraper – one that was quite a bit taller than his previous residence, and definitely more secure. Shizu-chan would have a hard time sneaking up on him while he was perched all the way up here.

Assuming he didn't use that supernaturally keen nose of his to track the smell of him, all the way up to the correct floor number and apartment door.

Izaya shuddered at the very thought of it as he rolled into his kitchen. The lights were already on – they always were, just like every other room in the house when it got dark. Izaya didn't give a damn about his electricity bill, he wasn't going to let anybody sneak around in his home unseen.

The kitchen was beautifully furnished, as all his rooms were. It had black marble counter tops, gleaming cream-coloured floor tiles, and shiny silver appliances scattered everywhere. It was exceptionally clean, on account of it being the room he spent the least amount of time in.

He had always despised cooking for himself, and the sentiment had only grown worse when he became stuck at the height of your average middle-schooler.

He pulled open his fridge and blinked at its contents – which were practically non-existent.

Oh.

I mean, duh – what was I expecting? The food fairy did some shopping?

Izaya shut the door again, and threw his head back with a dismissive wave of his hand and a casual, "Who needs food, anyway?"

Like he was trying to justify himself to a person standing behind him, judging him for his choices.

You do. Unless you're finally ready to die? Is that what it's come to? Is that the depths of your hypocrisy?

His eyes widened and Izaya shot up straight in his chair, shouting, "No!"

Then his eyes darted around, shiftily, as if someone might have heard him that time. "No…" he lowered his voice. "If I were ever going to commit suicide, I'd do it a hell of a lot more creatively than starving myself to death! I think I've made my point on that one!" he laughed at his own flippancy, "I'll have some crackers!"

He rolled over to the island in the centre of his kitchen. It was where he stashed his groceries, and just enough kitchenware for a single person. He could spread it all out into different cupboards, but why bother? Half of them were at an inaccessible height, unless he really felt like torturing himself to stand and reach them, and he didn't own nearly enough stuff to need more than one place to keep it all.

He located the box of crackers – roughly two weeks old and half eaten, and pulled one out. It didn't look mouldy, just kinda limp. He raised it to his mouth carefully.

It was like biting into damp cardboard, but he tried to chew it anyway.

He regretted it before he had the chance to swallow.

Izaya pulled the disgusted face of a child who'd just been force-fed their least favourite vegetable, and was threatening its parents with spitting it right back out again. He forced himself to get it down, then stuck his tongue out and scraped it with his nails. "Blegh!"

He threw the box of crackers across the kitchen. It sailed right into a wall, bounced off it, then knocked into his blender.

The blender tipped over with a loud clatter, and started whirring.

Hah! And that's the first time I've turned that thing on! What are the odds?

Izaya watched it with a face twisted by amusement, enjoying the interesting results of his own immaturity for a second, before rolling around the island to take care of it.

He reached up and tugged on the cord, yanking it out of the plug he couldn't reach with a firm tug. His arms ached with pain at the effort. He could almost feel the surgical pins inside them, holding his bones together, screaming at him for his arrogance.

He ignored it and threw the cord onto the counter with a casual toss, right next to the injured box of crackers. Then he rubbed a hand over his face and stared around at his kitchen. He sighed heavily.

"Ah, a little more starving won't kill me. Humans are more resilient than that…" He lowered his head to stare down at his lap, toying with his pants as he frowned. "Which is a good thing. I love that about them. I really do."

He mumbled it, unhappily.

Izaya had never wanted any of them dead, much less himself.

Never, ever, ever, will I wish to die.

Death was just too awful a thing.

A concept so thoroughly miserable he could barely touch it with his mind, before reeling back in disgust and horror and absolute rejection. He just couldn't stand the idea that his time would inevitably run out, and the whole universe would move on without him, as if he'd never existed at all.

He couldn't fathom how the atheists confronted the prospect so unflinchingly.

He sympathised with the religious for their need to construct a lie for themselves to cope with it.

And he despised the suicidal for their failure to appreciate what it truly meant.

Which was why in his past, Izaya had gone out of his way, sometimes, to fuck with them. The sadistic pattern of targeting those hopeless individuals who thought death was some sort of solution – or misunderstood the very nature of what it meant to die – was caused by a deep lack of respect for their shallow thinking and a total inability to relate.

He'd done some truly awful shit to suicidal people. He'd – proverbially – taken some of them by the arm and guided them gently off the ledge, thinking, What good are you if you can't even appreciate what it means to exist? Allow me to shuffle you off this mortal coil a bit faster, you waste of a human life.

But at least he'd never actually pushed anybody off of a building.

Because while Izaya was capable of a lot of awful things, and he did most of them with absolute relish, physically and proactively taking another human's life had always been too far – even for him. It was one of his few remaining principles.

A hard line he had always refused to cross.

Until that one time I tried to and failed really epically. Celty, you did me a real favor there.

He stopped playing with his fingers and started digging them into his thighs, rewarded immediately by agony.

You see, Izaya did in fact believe in the concept of treating others the way he wished to be treated. It just so happened that the only treatment he figured he couldn't enjoy in some way, would be the kind that actually killed him.

And so, he just never really went there.

Oh sure, he flirted with tragedy and despair, and he had no doubt been tangentially responsible for more than a handful of deaths – Izaya didn't really know how high his incidental body count went - but he was no cold-blooded assassin. Far from it!

The thought of snuffing out a life – in a personal and hands on manner, rather than through a series of falling dominoes he'd set up ages ago – left him feeling cold, and empty inside. There was nothing fun about it, nothing that excited him.

He had never even been tempted.

With one obvious exception.

He dug his fingers into his thighs a little harder, hissing through his teeth.

Nobody seemed to appreciate the fact that okay, yes, Izaya broke his toys, abandoned them at times, to get a better view of their suffering from afar, or because he'd moved on to something new – but he was never willing to throw them away permanently.

Nobody appreciated how he'd just…never really felt like murdering anyone, no matter what they did to him.

With one obvious exception.

Wasn't that the most unconditional form of love?

He used to think so, but now he knew better. His form of love was…impure.

He had lived in an eternal state of longing to see what happened next - for the satisfaction of being proven right in his predictions on human behavior, or for the joy of being surprised on those rare occasions he got it wrong. Izaya had just loved it all too much to ever stop!

Humans were full of such endless potential – the potential to bring Izaya great pleasure! To kill a human would be a most detestable thing to him, not because of any moral scruple – perish the thought, he barely had morals, much less scruples – but because he knew a deep feeling of loss would be his only reward.

Like a cat, having fun playing with a gecko, that got very sad and started to cry when it died.

It was all well and fine if his humans killed each other or themselves, they tended to do that sometimes. It was one of the many things he loved about them, because he truly did love everything about humanity – right down to the parts that were ugly and dark, and twisted.

But Izaya was above all that. Humans were his precious playthings, none of them could ever threaten him enough to want them gone forever.

With one. Obvious. Exception.

Izaya narrowed his eyes down at his damaged and screaming legs, then relaxed his fingers. "But that was a mistake," he said flatly.

And so is thinking about death, murder and Shizu-chan for too long, so let's move on.

Izaya lifted his gaze from his lap and made his way out the kitchen.

He rolled through his open-plan living area, scratching his nose and wondering what the hell he was gonna do now. He stared around for a bit, eyeing the luxury all around him with an unappreciative gaze. Then he spotted his phone on a table, and rolled towards it eagerly.

He picked it up and started scrolling through his contacts, wondering if there was anyone he could call. Just to chat for a little while…he would even try to play nice for once.

It was a depressing experience, when he realized he couldn't think of a single person who would be pleased to hear his voice. Usually he wouldn't care, but he'd been feeling more vulnerable than usual lately.

If he called someone and somehow managed to piss them off, word could get back to Shizu-chan, and that thought gave him chills.

What about Shinra? He might not…hate to hear from me.

Then he remembered that Shinra hung out with Shizu-chan all the time, and even if he was by some miracle happy to hear that Izaya was still alive, he'd probably report it to him immediately because…he was an idiot like that.

Actually, the more excited he is the more likely he'd be to blab. So, either Shinra won't care I'm alive at all and I'll be able to tell because he has no fucking social skills, or he'll be so happy he reports my continued existence to the man that broke my body…no thanks. If only there were a third option where he wasn't such a piss poor excuse for a friend.

He laughed almost fondly at the thought, filled with a weird bubble of happiness and almost tempted to risk everything just to hear the sound of Shinra's voice, on the off-chance that it would be loud and full of joy. Just thinking about his only friend was making him feel something for the first time in ages.

But he popped the bubble and moved on, because Shinra really was just as likely to hang up in his ear.

He scrolled around in his contacts some more. Then he sat up a little straighter in his seat, "Oooh…what about Manami-san? I haven't heard from her since she abandoned me while I was still covered in plaster…I wonder if she's started university yet?"

His relationship with Manami-san had been one hell of a roller-coaster, and he didn't even really know where they stood anymore. She had never fully explained her actions, and currently existed as a big question mark in his mind.

Roughly a year ago, about six months before his final battle with Shizu-chan, someone had had the bright idea to stab him in the middle of the street without making sure they finished him off. He'd survived and been hospitalized, but the incident had been all over the news. The infamous Orihara Izaya, the untouchable Orihara Izaya – taken down in a crowded street and left there to bleed out.

He'd been sitting in his hospital bed, watching the clock approach midnight, waiting for whoever was coming to finish him off. He'd known somebody would, of course, because he knew his humans too well to imagine none of them would take such a golden opportunity to be rid of him. He was too much of a thorn in everybody's side to just be left alone in a state like that.

And then she'd come for him – in the dead of night, with a knife, looking for her revenge.

One of those pathetic, suicidal young people Izaya had gone out of his way to fuck with in a stunning and remarkable display of cruelty. She'd seen on the news that someone had made a pretty half-assed attempt at assassinating him, and took it onto herself to finish the job properly, while he was alone and vulnerable in his hospital bed.

Apparently, she'd taken it pretty hard, when he'd gone back on their little suicide pact, drugged her, mocked her for her shallow views on death, led her to believe he had fatally poisoned her, and then shoved her unconscious body inside of a suitcase before having a truly excellent courier drop her off in some random park.

She'd had to quote back what he'd said to her that night, before he could even remember who she was.

He maybe…had done that stuff just a little too often.

Izaya had been sitting there in her living room, roughly two years ago, with her and her friend who he honestly forgot to include in his memories of this event most of the time. He had already successfully spiked their drinks and started dropping vague hints that he was a lying piece of shit, when the oft-forgotten friend had finally figured out what was going on and asked him, 'U-um, Mr. Nakura, do you have any intention of dying?'

He had tilted his head, closed his eyes and smiled very sweetly, 'Of course not!'

The two of them had burst to their feet, very upset with him about that!

'Were you deceiving us all along?'

'Don't give us that, that's beyond cruel!'

He'd sat there with his legs crossed, his hands clasped in his lap, watching calmly as their vision started to blur and they began to sway, and asked, 'Why? Since you've made up your minds to die, what do you care anymore, right?'

Manami-san had started shaking her head, finally realizing there was something wrong, as he continued, totally rationally, 'Even if you've been deceived, or cussed out, in a little while it's all going to go away.'

He had said, fully aware of the implications of what he was saying.

Manami-san had looked down at their drinks and back up at him in fear and horror, 'You didn't…'

'You said there'd be nothing after you died. You might've meant that you won't have to suffer anymore, but to die means to disappear. It's not your pain that will disappear. It's your existence! Eternal darkness…that's not "nothingness" at all. Because you still exist, to sense that darkness. It's love! I can't sense any love in your death! That's no good. You've got to love death, to pay your respects to nothingness. If that's your mindset, I can't die with you, you know.'

He chattered all this to her, as she collapsed onto the couch and stared at him with fading consciousness and tears in her eyes, watching him as he flounced around the room dragging two suitcases and hopping on top of them to declare his last point with a flourish.

Izaya sat in his wheelchair, staring down at her name on his phone, and smiled very, very widely.

Oscar Wilde had said it best; it was absurd to divide people into good and bad. People were either charming or tedious, and there was something very charming to him about that girl – Manami-san.

The one who had meant so little to him. The one he had sent off, drugged, unconscious and vulnerable and would have probably never spared a thought for again, if she hadn't forced him to. That girl who he had found so utterly dull, so unforgivably tedious, he'd walked away with the feeling that she pretty much deserved whatever happened to her and proceeded to immediately forget her existence.

Maybe the reason Izaya didn't kill people for the crime of boring him – settling to only make them wish that he had – was because, there would end any potential for them to redeem their entertainment value!

If so, Manami-san was a perfect proof of concept – the suicidal girl who decided to live, all so she could kill him. The one who had never stopped thinking about him, never stopped loathing him, even for a second – all while Izaya happily carried on with his life, oblivious to her festering hatred and growing murderous intent. The very last person he expected to see when he knew with certainty that someone would be coming for his life that night, he just didn't know who.

Even when severely injured and confined to a hospital bed, Izaya's agility and battle-instincts had once been truly formidable. He hadn't been called the second strongest man in Ikkebukuro because he had force of personality – he had earned that title by being so untouchable, so skilled with a blade, it was literally the stuff urban legends were made of.

Of course, being able to go toe-to-toe with Shizu-chan for so many years, the actual strongest man in Ikkebukuro, probably the strongest man in the whole of human history…. played a big part in my physical infamy…yes, it's so ironic I could cry…

Only half a year ago, he had been known to parkour around like gravity didn't apply to him, and perform feats of dexterity that bordered on the supernatural, all the while taunting a man with the actual superhuman ability to lift cars over his head and throw them at him…throwing tiny little knives back at him like he'd been trained in a circus…

Hah…who could have ever imagined that would backfire on me so badly one day, besides literally everyone? I must've lost track of the amount of people who warned me…Shinra counts as ten of them, all by himself…

He shook his head with a huff, still smiling down at his phone.

Manami-san, a perfectly average young girl, had never stood a chance against him back then – not even with the handicap that he already had a mortal wound.

Ahh, so she's that girl, Izaya had thought, lying in his hospital bed and staring at the girl in the doorway, very amused by this surprising turn of events. He'd been expecting Yakuza, or – God forbid – Shizu-chan!

She'd climbed on top of his bed, declaring, with eyes full of hate, 'You're going to be murdered by that same insignificant person!' Then she'd slashed at his head with her knife, carving into his pillow beneath him as he effortlessly rolled out from under the blade.

He'd disarmed her immediately – rolled her off his bed and pinned her to the floor. He'd sat on her chest with his knees on her arms and a powerful grip on her throat, clutching the stitches in his abdomen she'd just made him tear a little – and told her exactly what he thought about what she'd just tried to do to him.

He might have been strangling her, just a tiny bit, in his excitement.

'That's right! You're insignificant. But though you were nothing but a half-assed, would-be suicide, you've harbored the intent to kill me, letting it fester for over a year. And in just half a day after you saw the news, you figured out my location and came here!' He'd leaned down into her fear-filled and hateful face, with a passionate and proud look in his eyes, 'That's right, you came here. Yes, you came here! Could anything be more amazing than that?' He'd begun to get a little worked up at that point, 'You've turned my expectations on their head! Thanks to you…Thanks to you, now I remember!'

Instead of strangling her to death in retaliation, as he'd been fully capable of doing, Izaya had let her go. It had almost been difficult to release her though. Not due to any desire to end her life. No, no, no, definitely not that! Just in that weird way you get when you see something so cute you just wanna squeeze. But that was a one-way ticket to instant regret – he was no Shizu-chan, but back then he'd still been pretty damn strong – so he'd restrained his enthusiasm for her and risen to his feet instead.

He'd given a big, wistful sigh and smiled. 'Oh, that's right… Yes, that's right. Now I remember.' He'd gestured wildly with one arm, clutching his wounded side with the other, and closed his eyes in bliss, 'Ever since I encountered something beyond human, I might have been underestimating humanity.'

He'd hopped, nimbly back onto his bed, as if he wasn't bleeding a little from his throbbing stab-wound and cried, 'But look!' he'd dug into the tear she'd sliced into his pillow case and thrown the feather stuffing around like it was confetti, 'Behold Izaya!' he'd cried, throwing his arms wide into the air. He'd looked up at the ceiling, watching feathers fall around him like snow, 'Did you learn a lesson, Izaya?' He'd begun excitedly jumping up and down on his bed in celebration as Manami-san rose to her feet, clutching her sore throat. 'Just how magnificent are humans!'

'I really don't understand, but there's one thing I can say,' she'd scowled at his antics, thoroughly unamused, 'You're the lowest kind of human.'

He'd stopped jumping to turn to her and spread his arms in willing acceptance of her hatred, 'That's fine by me! No matter how much you hate me,' he'd pumped his fist and grinned at her, 'I still desperately, almost irrationally, more than anything…' he'd briefly doubled over to clutch his screaming stab-wound, reprimanding him for all his moving around, before throwing his arms up higher than ever and tossing his head back to cry with joy, 'More than anything…More than anything! I adore you all!'

Manami-san had watched him with wide eyes, clutching her throat, incapable of comprehending his delighted reaction to her fully-eager attempt to murder him.

That was just how Izaya was, back then.

Because just last year, he used to process attempts on his life with the excitement of a little boy, receiving an invitation to a playdate – especially when they came from someone he hadn't seen coming.

Izaya narrowed his eyes at his phone, remembering the manner in which he had handled his first ever almost-assassination – the one that had led Manami-san to his room in some hospital he was stuck in, where he had basically just been waiting to be finished off.

In response to that incident, he'd got himself a little army of bodyguards and went to war! In a pretty wild and crazy turn of events, it turned out the person who got him stabbed was some evil genius woman with the ability to wield one of the Saika's, a semi-sentient demonic Japanese blade, who thinks cutting people is the best way to show love and referred to whoever wielded her as her 'mother'. The sword would hide within the wielder's body until she was drawn, basically just bitchin into her host's mind all the time to hurry up and stab someone already because she was feeling so very loving! And once she'd done that, her host could control the person she'd just cut completely. Izaya had been very, very grateful for his insane reflexes and combat ability when he'd found out that little detail.

As far as he knew, there were three women running around in Ikkebukuro with that power, and that Kujiragi woman that almost had him assassinated was the worst of them! The other two were basically just teenagers with serial addictions to giving people little cuts if they felt too strongly for them – oooh, how scary! Izaya found it hysterical that one of them basically hated herself for her Saika affliction, she really had no idea how freaking harmless she was. If she thought her way of loving others was harmful, she really needed to get out and meet some more people.

But Kujiragi was older, wiser and essentially a supervillain mastermind, as well as being the original Saika wielder as far as he understood it. The 'mother of all Saika's', if you will. She possessed an overwhelming obsessive love for Shinra, which Izaya didn't find too terribly hard to understand. He sympathized a little bit with the hopelessness of her struggle. She wanted him all to herself and was willing to burn the world down to get him, and mind control hoards of people to do it.

So Izaya had run off and got himself his own crazy little Saika wielder. Not the self-hating one, the fun one! The totally insane teenage stalker with an obsession with her high school teacher, who was a predator that sexually preyed on young girls and hilariously only had eyes for the self-hating Saika wielder. Who he apparently leered at all day in school! After dumping the insane one! Just picture the catfight that inevitably ensued at some point! And also, the bloody karma that was coming for that High School teacher when the fun one finally had him all to herself!

Then Izaya had implored his ex-girlfriend Mikage to lend him her entourage of martial-arts ninjas and come help him get revenge! Mikage was a wonderfully muscular woman who ran a dojo – she hadn't looked like that when they'd dated. She was probably the closest thing to a real girlfriend he'd ever had and she still respected him, for some mysterious reason – even after she took the fall for him one time over a scandal and got kicked outta high school. She did usually try to say hello by kicking his ass – as if that's what she got really ripped for after he ruined her school career. Not that he ever let her. But she'd never seemed to despise him. She'd helped train his sisters into vicious little martial-artists for him, and he'd always love her for that! So Mikage had agreed! It had been of those rare times in his life when a bunch of people did him a huge favor for nothing in return and it had been awesome! Going to war with a little army at his back, genuinely supporting him, had almost made him wish people tried to stab him a little more often!

A little attempted vehicular manslaughter, a little more mind-control, a few crazy betrayals, a concussion, a brief trip in the boot of somebody's car, and some very intense phone calls later, the dust had settled. Everyone had pretty much survived, and his point had been made pretty well. Even if the Kujiragi woman would never be intimidated by him, at least all the people she'd inspired to follow her example and fuck with him would get the point it was a very bad idea.

He never took it personally – never got upset. He understood humans too well for that. He sympathized with their plight, appreciated the spectacle of their efforts when they tried, vainly, to bring him down.

Even if he had to discipline them sometimes, because they might grow too unruly if he didn't, Izaya had punished their infractions with the unconditional love of an abusive parent, who'd tricked themselves into thinking they were only doing what was best for their child.

'Why am I doing this? Because right now, I just love you so very much!'

And, well, they needed to fear him at least a little, or the attempts on his life would begin to flow in a never-ending stream that would inevitably drown him at some point. It hadn't even been twenty-four hours after his first stabbing had aired on the news, before someone else was coming along to try and stab him somewhere a little more fatal, in a predictable trend of escalating enthusiasm Izaya saw coming from a mile away.

It was cute, in that opportunistic way that humans were, but it was also the sort of behavior that needed to be smacked firmly out of them. He hadn't hated the ones who foolishly thought it would be a good idea to stab him in the middle of a crowded street, hadn't wanted them dead – he did, however, have an important lesson to teach Ikkebukuro.

It went something like this: If you come for Orihara Izaya, you better pray you finished the job, because it's really not a good idea to declare war on that guy.

The message was sent, like a stone thrown into a pond – multiple ripples flowing from the disturbance. Chat rooms and comment sections spreading the good word not to fuck with him, because apparently, he was done taking people's shit. Izaya's crumbling reputation as an untouchable force of nature was restored.

Unlike the perpetrators of the first stabbing, Manami-san got away with it with only a few small bumps and bruises – and not just because he had dodged the knife and overpowered her pretty much immediately.

No, she got away with it because as far as Izaya was concerned, she'd gone above and beyond the call of duty when it came to humans who'd redeemed their entertainment value – she had truly given him a rare gift. One of the few, genuine surprises of his life.

And Manami-san, that delightful little overachiever, had one more big surprise left in her – one that hadn't exhilarated him as much as it had filled him with a strange sort of warmth that was embarrassingly foreign to him.

After all that talk of how she was only sticking around to wait for a chance to kill him, six months ago she'd given up the perfect opportunity to do so and instead decided to help save his life. He had been injured so badly she probably could have sneezed at him and finished him off, but instead…she'd helped him get away from Shizu-chan.

To this day, he still couldn't figure out why she'd done it, couldn't pin down what had changed in the way she perceived him.

He'd been absolutely wrecked and bleeding in the front seat of his getaway car, when he'd spotted her through the rearview mirror – sitting in the back seat, looking kinda grumpy, like she usually did. All she'd said in response to his questioning noise was, 'Don't get the wrong idea. I just wanted to be there at your end.'

He had chuckled fondly in acceptance, too tired and broken to really think about it too deeply, at the time – but now he was starting to call bullshit.

"Yeah, right! If that's what you wanted you could have had it in a second!Why did you do it, Manami-san?" he asked his phone, hovering over the call button. "Did you forgive me? How? Why? What changed?"

Izaya just didn't get it, probably never would now that she'd left, but he appreciated her for it nonetheless. He was happy she had helped saved his life. He only wished she had stuck around a little longer so he could figure out why.

But once she'd for some inexplicable reason lost her hatred of him, all of Manami-san's motivation to stay close had gone away.

Not even the people who found him redeeming enough to spare wanted to stick around with Izaya.

He sighed and exited out of her contact, returning to scrolling the list for someone else. He wouldn't disturb her at this hour…

The best thanks he could give would probably be to never disturb her again.

It's a miracle she bounced back from the first time I disturbed her…and then the second time, when she probably thought I was gonna strangle her to death for a second…and if saving my life counted as disturbing, then that third time too.

"Humans really are resilient," he commented with a wistful sigh, and began to ride lazily around his apartment, scrolling through his contacts some more. Then he came to an abrupt stop, in front of his work desk.

"Oh! What about Kine? The person who saved my life that actually makes sense!" he crowed in victory. "If Manami-san blind-sided me, Kine reassured me I still know what's going on!"

Izaya had always respected the man, and thus hadn't left him with nearly as much psychological damage!

Kine had been the person to jumpstart Izaya's career as a powerful info-broker by hooking him up with the Yakuza. They'd met back in his final year of High School when he ran right in in between one of Izaya and Shizu-chan's catastrophic chases of cat and mouse.

With his car.

Shizu-chan had just ripped a streetlamp right out of the concrete and launched it at him like a javelin, screaming about how he was going to kill him – an attack which Izaya had nimbly and predictably proceeded to evade. The street-lamp-cum-javelin had pinned into the road they played on with an explosion of rubble and screaming metal – as Izaya danced away with a laugh, and a taunt that Shizu-chan's aim really sucked.

Then there was a screeching of tires as somebody slammed on their breaks just in time not to collide with the sudden obstruction they'd caused right in the middle of the road. Both he and Shizu-chan had drawn up short, suddenly realizing they'd gotten a little carried away again and someone had almost just died that wasn't one of the two of them.

The man who proceeded to get out of the car and make them both feel like naughty little boys had been Kine. By some magic he had resolved the conflict to the point where he and Shizu-chan had been forced to shake hands and peacefully part ways for the day.

Yeah, Izaya's hand had been busted for weeks after that little exchange, but he'd smiled sweetly in Shizu-chan's wildly grinning face – like he was never on the verge of breaking something. The next day at school, he'd thrown a knife at him, which Shizu-chan caught with his teeth – and their chase had begun again. Their little moment of co-operation with each other, for Kine's sake, reduced to an anomalous aberration never to be repeated again.

The memory was…

There was something wistful about it.

The sort of feeling that made him wonder what could have happened if they'd let what Kine had done for them, for just a single day…turn into something…

Something…

"Yuck," Izaya said, after a moment's consideration, ignoring the way his heart was suddenly racing so fast it made him sweat. "Friendship was never on the table – it could only ever have been a ceasefire. A very, very reluctant ceasefire…"

Quickly back to Kine, now. Should I call him?

Sometime last year, after taking a bad blow to his head – while up to mischief that had nothing to do with Shizu-chan and a lot more to do with the people responsible for his stabbing – Kine had been the only one to make the effort to convince Izaya to get his injury checked out.

And, in an extraordinarily rare display of self-doubt, Izaya had listened to him. He'd gone a little further, actually, having the CT scan check his brain for any tumors or abnormalities. His diagnosis comforted him – there was nothing medically wrong with him, he barely even had a concussion.

Izaya had always known there was something a little off about himself, but at least his personality was one hundred percent attributable to his nature and not the result of brain damage.

Kine had said something dry he couldn't recall, when Izaya relayed the news, but he remembered thinking the man sounded happy to hear that he was happy.

So, when Izaya had opened his eyes on the day he'd almost ceased to exist, finding himself in the front seat of a moving car – miraculously still alive, if in more pain than he'd ever thought was possible for the human brain to process without short-circuiting into unconsciousness – he hadn't been at all surprised to find that it was Kine's tired eyes, glancing at him from the driver's seat.

He had only been relieved to find himself wrapped in an inexplicable sense of safety, when he'd been so certain his life was over.

He'd barely had more contact with Kine than Manami-san, in the six months since then. The man had stuck around long enough to get him into a safehouse and attend to his injuries, but he'd been out of there within a fortnight.

Kine had actually been intending to just drop him somewhere safe and run, but when his injuries turned out to be way more severe than expected, he'd hung around a bit more – just to make sure Izaya was really okay.

Honestly, the fact that he took a break from his entire life for that long touched him pretty deeply.

The man had a family, after all.

Izaya scratched his jaw and sighed, "It would be a pretty poor way to repay him…bugging him randomly at this time of night…What would we even talk about? The fact that half his Yakuza buddy's still want me dead? Hai, hai, I get it – don't come back to Ikkebukuro!" he yelled the last part, randomly into his phone, as if Kine had just given him the warning again.

Then he huffed, and threw his phone like it was another box of crackers that had disgusted him.

It landed, safely, on his couch. Izaya stared at it for a moment.

Huh. I must be having a lucky day or something, he thought.

Then he looked around his beautiful, silent apartment once more and declared, "I miss Celty's head. She never tried to lecture me. She only ever listened…" he said the last part with a sad pout that was only partly sarcastic.

Celty had been the third person involved in saving his life, on the night he decided to end his rivalry with Shizu-chan once and for all. She was a mythological creature of celtic origin – a Dullahan. A headless woman who once rode around on a carriage pulled by horses made of shadow, holding her beautiful, detached head to her chest and bringing death to whatever random door she chose to come across.

Who knew how long she had been doing that for…how old she really was? For all Izaya knew, she'd been around as long as the universe itself.

And he was lucky enough to meet her when she'd lost her head, forgotten all her memories, and was running around masquerading as a woman in a catsuit with a kitty-kat helmet in place of a head, riding a motorcycle that whinnied like a horse!

He'd had that creature running around for him as his courier for most of their relationship!

And then!

And then one day his good friend Shinra had handed over her head, saying he wanted it as far from Celty as possible, lest she remember what she truly was and abandon him forever to rule over hell or something.

How crazy was that!

Izaya threw his head back and laughed a little, at the wild ride his life had truly been.

Celty's intervention actually made sense to him – that creature thought she was a human being, and tried so hard to mimic them she'd actually started adopting some of their traits – traits like mercy, for him of all people!

Izaya found that pretty hysterical, considering she was a literal harbinger of death, and she had just become aware of how he'd played around with her head like it was a big, beautiful stress ball, during that period of time he'd had it in his possession and lied to her – well, not to her face, obviously…

He'd looked deep into that (weirdly stirring?) kitty-cat helmet she favored, and lied about it, all the while leaving a taunting trail of breadcrumbs. Laughing as he sent the Grim-Reaper-riding-a-motorcycle herself on a wild goose chase, looking for her missing head – which he talked to like it was his pet cactus, on a daily basis.

He used to sit with it on the couch, and chat with it in a way that was more honest and truer than he was ever allowed to be with anyone else.

Letting the dormant half-soul of a Dullahan become privy to all his dirty little secrets and schemes, even as he strung her other half along like she was just another one of his precious humans, only significantly more competent and better at pulling off skin-tight leather.

If Shinra thought the way I treated her body was disrespectful at times…hah, good thing he never saw how I treated her head! He hated that thing, but he probably would have still bitched at me not to play around with it like some kinda toy…I just couldn't help myself!

He'd kept Celty's head comfy, in a nice little jar - when he wasn't tossing it between his hands, throwing it into the air, or cradling it lovingly against his face. It was such a pretty thing, and the irreverent handling was really the only mechanism of showing affection Izaya had.

It may also have had something to do with the power trip – she was so much more than just a pretty face after all, that lovely being was the potential key to his salvation. A being that was eternal, who might have the power to make him the same.

Something he wanted so badly he was at risk of shattering the enamel of his own teeth if he allowed himself to think about it too seriously!

And yet Izaya had approached the never-in-anyone's-lifetime opportunity that had fallen into his lap – like it was some kind of sign from a higher power that he was indeed meant to be more than human – in the same chaotic, nihilistic fashion that he approached everything else. Like if it didn't work out, then that was fine too. He'd roll with it. He wasn't gonna strain himself too hard, pretending to be something he wasn't – not even for immortality.

Because Izaya was incapable of being anything but himself, and he was in love with that quality of his.

And, also because he didn't think it would work.

"What, was I supposed to pretend to be a good little boy and pray she wouldn't find out? Hah!"

Izaya had figured his best odds of winning over a supernatural creature, who could probably read his very fate in the stars, was to give them a good show. To present Celty with the full and awkward spectrum of his humanity, as if saying, So, this is meee. Here's what I'm like, here's what I'm capable of. What do you think? Do I make the cut, oh great Dullahan?

Even if he only piqued her interest enough to provoke her, Izaya would have been happy with that too. He would gladly eternalize his existence on the condition that he suffer for his impudence. Celty could torture him forever, if she wanted – so long as it was forever.

It was an interesting strategy, he'd had there, to be sure.

"And yet!" he announced triumphantly, "In a way it kind of paid off!"

She had actually taken the time to bandage his most life-threatening injury with her shadowy powers, and had apparently done the same for everyone else who'd found themselves caught up in the incident that finally ran Izaya out of town for good.

The incident he himself had orchestrated, the puppet master pulling the very strings that would lead to his inevitable and ironic downfall – all the while deluded into thinking he was something more than a broken man throwing a self-destructive temper tantrum of epic proportions.

Izaya settled down again.

"Whoops…" he mumbled with a shifty grin.

Izaya had really wanted Celty to like him enough to want to spare him, but had known from the start that it would probably never be possible – on account of his terrible personality and the fact that she got along so well with his mortal enemy. Shizu-chan and Celty had that kind of genuine connection that only two monsters could have….

Except Shizu-chan was never really a monster…just really, really, really, really strong and prone to losing his tempter…Celty, on the other hand…now that's a real monster. Hehe, Shinra would kick my ass if he heard me saying that again after she pulled my ass out of the fire like that…But what can I say?

"Sorry Shinra, I just don't have any love in my heart for monsters, and that's not gonna change just because you find her headless body so very bang-able and she happened to save my life one time for a reason that probably had nothing to do with me!" he told an imaginary version of Shinra, as if he were standing right there in his apartment bitching at him about his disrespect for Celty.

Her body, which was having so much fun playing at being human and had once worked so faithfully as his excellent courier, had never been too impressed with him. That might have had something to do with her suspicions that some of the packages he had asked her to deliver were actually people – but she had been too professional to ever ask questions about them, electing to silently judge him.

…When she wasn't making him read something she'd typed onto her PDA and shoved into his face, about the specific contents of her judgement.

Asking random questions like, 'Is it your fault all those other people jumped?' like he just had infinite time on his hands to send people over buildings! It was a minor hobby, he wasn't single handedly responsible for raising the suicide rate of Ikkebukuro, Celty – calm down! Most of the time he wasn't even trying to get them to kill themselves, he was just laughing in their face about how stupid their entire philosophy on death was…

Sheesh, how evil did she think he was?

He was just educating the people in a very mean way!

Some might even say he was saving lives!

Izaya pulled a face, then grinned, "Oof, now that thought felt a little too dirty, even for me!"

Izaya was someone who liked the smell of his own bullshit, for sure, but that particular lie would be just a little too dishonest. He didn't give a shit about the lives of suicidal people, he never had. But good for them if they survived him and came out stronger for it, like Manami-san! Those were the ones he loved most!

Celty's body had clearly been able to smell the bullshit all over him, too.

He didn't have high hopes that her head – the side of her that was fully aware of just how insignificant he really was – would like him any better.

But he'd given it his best shot. He thought he was pretty interesting, maybe the closest thing to God he'd ever meet would agree with him.

He would have settled for raising Celty's ire – Izaya had been pleasantly surprised to receive her pity instead.

Izaya tilted his head back and sighed, turning his head to face the glorious view from his apartment.

At the very least, the closest thing to God he'd ever meet…hadn't let him die.

For some mysterious reason that probably had more to do with her 'friendship' with Shizu-chan and her 'compassion' for his desire not to become a murderer, than it did with any particular fondness for Izaya himself. He'd take it – it was more than he'd ever truly expected from a creature like her.

"Or maybe it was for Shinra?" he wondered.

Maybe she had been laboring under the impression that he would take it hard if he died?

Izaya chuckled, rolling his wheelchair over to his window to look over the cityscape laid out before him. It was beautiful – the efforts of humanity.

"Was that it, Celty? Did you do it so your boyfriend wouldn't be too distracted by my absence to love you anymore? Hah!"

He wasn't about to go back and correct her on that one – if she couldn't tell that psychopath only had eyes for her, maybe she was more fallibly human than he gave her credit for. Shinra had once been quoted as saying that he didn't care if everyone in the world died, as long as his beloved survived.

That man didn't care about human beings, not even the ones he found interesting, like Izaya. All he cared about was Celty.

And the way that he is…is honestly just too funny to take personally, most of the time.

Shinra was an underground doctor that stitched up violent criminals and sent them back onto the streets with an innocent smile, like he wasn't doing anything wrong – the same smile Izaya suspected he would wear while slicing people to pieces and placing their organs into jars, if he were the least bit bloodthirsty.

One time, back in High School, after asking Shinra what kind of achievements he would leave behind as a human, Izaya had got right up in his face – in that way that Shinra liked to do to him despite knowing it made him feel uncomfortable – smirked at him lovingly, and told him his personal prediction like it was some sort of come-on and they were playing a prolonged game of Gay-Chicken he fully intended on winning:

'I bet you leave behind a legacy as a psychotic killer, and that thrills me!'

Izaya threw his head back and laughed hysterically at the thought, filling his empty apartment with the sound of his own mirth and picturing, fondly, how the world would shiver in fear if Shinra ever became as sadistic as he was removed from reality.

He laughed so hard at the image that formed in his head – one of Shinra in his white lab coat, looming over an audibly whimpering model of planet Earth, scalpel in hand, those glasses of his flashing eerily while he wore that creepy little smile on his face – he actually began to cry a little, shouting loudly to absolutely no one, "He would be terrifying! The people wouldn't know what hit them!"

He broke into hysterical laughter once more, slapping his leg in a way that was actually pretty fucking painful for him, not that he minded, and rocking back and forth slightly in his wheelchair – making it roll lazily to-and-fro.

He was simply canning himself over the fact that, if Shinra felt the same way about humans that Izaya did, Izaya wouldn't even be able to hold a candle to his potential for supervillainy.

"Ah!" he eventually gasped in breathless appreciation, slapping a hand over his eyes, shoulders shaking uncontrollably before he hunched over into small snickers. "And they think I'm bad! Humans really don't know what kinda bullet they dodged, when Celty came along to distract Shinra from them…"

If anyone had walked past his apartment and heard him just then, they would have assumed he was wildly drunk and on a late-night phone call with someone who'd just told him something devastatingly hilarious.

But no, Izaya was just really fucking unstable.

Even more so than usual, nowadays.

The tears that rolled out from under his trembling hand were an involuntary physical reaction to his violent and prolonged attack of the funnies, one that had stemmed partly from exhaustion and partly from something a little sadder.

These days, Izaya latched on to any sense of positive emotion like it was the only available life-line in the cold, dark sea of emptiness that was his heart.

His laughter ran out eventually, but a smile still lingered on his face as he lowered his hand from his eyes and traced his lips, still thinking about his old friend, rather than admiring the view.

Calling Shinra a psychopath was probably too harsh, even if he would wear the condition so well it was genuinely hilarious to contemplate. He donned a white lab coat, whipped scalpels out of thin air and had a tendency to smile with an innocence that was so pure, it actually started to look a little evil once you noticed the contrast between that look on his face and the context of whatever he was doing or saying at the time.

Izaya chuckled to himself, softly this time, at a memory of Shinra – smiling sweetly while telling Izaya what an awful human being he truly was. Like he didn't hate that fact about him, he was just pointing it out to be a dick.

He's not an evil person, he's just a magnificent asshole. Oh, how could I ever possibly relate to that? he thought – drolly summarizing the reason he got along so well with Shinra, for the benefit of nobody's amusement but his own.

He stared into the night sky with a smile on his face for quite some time, basking in a moment of peace and tranquility that was so rare for him these days, he almost felt like he could just close his eyes and fall asleep, right there in his wheelchair.

Izaya was just so fucking tired, all the goddamn time.

But the peaceful feeling didn't last nearly long enough for him to fall asleep.

It never did.

Instead of passing out in his chair, Izaya stayed awake as his thoughts became a little more introspective.

That was always a mistake, but he'd been tricked into forgetting it by the sudden allure he felt towards his childhood friend.

Izaya willfully packed his bags, and began a deep trip down memory lane, strung along by promises of more happy feelings while thinking about Shinra.

Things got dark again pretty quickly after that.

First, it occurred to him, suddenly, that he only possessed his unique ability to spot the sinister side of everything in existence, because he was literally too fucking sinister to function properly, himself.

And the fact that Shinra doesn't mind that about me is pretty damn suspicious. Bit of a red flag, I'm sure most people would agree.

Izaya saw Shinra as tainted, simply by virtue of his continuing association with him, but he knew deep down that the man was mostly harmless. Just totally eccentric and a little lacking in the empathy department, which made him and Izaya birds of a feather.

When Shinra introduced people to Izaya, he usually gave the disclaimer that Izaya was 'shady as hell' – in a casual manner that suggested this wasn't a problem to him personally, he just figured it would be irresponsible not to warn people about it.

He was the only person in the world at all, who had the stones to identify himself to others by the label of 'Orihara-kun's friend'.

Even the people who didn't hate the very sight of Izaya would really rather not be associated with him in that way.

Only Shinra possessed the complete lack of fucks necessary to broadcast the fact that he was on good terms with Public Enemy Number One. Frankly, it was a miracle no one had ever tried to hurt him for it, or at least punched him in the face for being so insensitive to what a walking calamity Izaya really was. He should have been persecuted like someone who had befriended a man-eating tiger, and occasionally brought unsuspecting victims along to feed to it.

Izaya snorted abruptly at the sudden image of Shinra, dragging the man-eating tiger that was him around town in a circus cage, smiling reassuringly at the people screaming at him, 'For the love of God, would you please just stop already! Why do you keep doing this to us?' while he opened the cage, stood back, and watched as Izaya predictably and eagerly leapt out of it to devour them.

Somehow, though, the skit wasn't nearly as funny as it should have been.

He had that burning feeling in his chest again, the one that spread from around his heart like it was pumping fire instead of blood.

The smile on his face crystalized into something brittle and meaningless.

Izaya crossed his legs, the burning agony of it shooting all the way into his spine – a pain so intense it drowned out all the physical symptoms of anxiety, like they were helpless bystanders in the face of a tsunami.

If only it could wash away the memory of Shinra's voice, which echoed like an ancient prophecy of damnation in his head.

'I swear, Orihara-kun, it's like I can't take you anywhere without you finding some way to turn it into an upheaval! Maybe you should wipe that smug look off your face and try to play a little more nicely with others, or I'll seriously have to stop bringing you around other people.'

He'd said that years ago, and maybe if Izaya had listened to him, Shinra wouldn't have lost patience with his antics so badly he stopped caring whether or not Izaya got himself killed.

Or irreparably broken.

The pain ebbed, leaving in its place the calm of someone who had already decided to give up and accept their fate, and had thus grown numb to the reality of it.

He crossed his legs again. Didn't even flinch at the renewed pain. Settled into the self-inflicted misery like it was a warm bath he'd drawn for himself.

Izaya should have known things were taking a drastic turn for the worse, when the creative images his mind came up with to amuse himself started leaving a bad aftertaste in his mouth. But it wasn't like he could just stop thinking about Shinra all of the sudden.

That wasn't how it worked, once he'd latched onto someone this hard.

Izaya didn't possess the ability to stop fixating.

He could only try to focus a little more on the positives.

Their bizarre friendship – which had started in childhood back when Izaya had still been relatively harmless himself – was based on the kind of mutual fascination found between two freaks, who had nothing in common with one another, except that they were both supremely different from everyone else.

They were cut from the same special cloth, yet fashioned into very different outfits.

Shinra had sniffed him out, with that exceptional ability he had to sus out individuals that were just as off in the head as he was, all in an effort to impress his supernatural love interest with the fact that he'd finally managed to make another friend.

There, now that brought Izaya's smile back to life.

Because, yes, that had literally been his motivation for befriending Izaya. Even in those rare moments when Shinra actually pursued a connection with another human, it was still all just about the Dullahan.

He was so fucking strange, it was adorable.

Izaya's eyes lit up with affectionate appreciation, and he snickered.

He had once again managed to delude himself into believing his train of thought wasn't about to blow up in his face.

Izaya had just felt so empty inside, for far too many days in a row.

Now he was having too much of a good time, contemplating one of the weirdest humans he'd ever met, to realize he needed to do something drastic and put a stop to all this before it was too late.

Izaya suspected Shinra suffered from a combination of childhood trauma, and some degree of mind-altering side effects from having been exposed to Celty at far too young an age. His lunatic of a father had had him experimenting on her naked, headless body when he was only a little boy – there was no way that hadn't left him psychologically damaged. And that was before one took into account the fact that Celty was a mythological creature of indeterminate power.

Apparently, Celty had been concerned by his single-minded obsession with her and had tried to push him into the arms of humanity, telling him he needed a new friend – or literally anything else to care about that wasn't her. It had been a completely pointless exercise, but Shinra had nevertheless done her bidding like a boy on one hell of a mission.

It might be hard for anyone to believe it now, but Izaya had once been pretty introverted and aloof – so much so his parents had started to worry about the degree to which he isolated himself.

Actually, on second thought, the idea that his parents had thought there was something wrong with him at an early age would probably be met by most with a nod and a, 'Mm, yes, understandable.' – but people would still be surprised to find out it wasn't for the reasons they might expect!

He hadn't always been a walking incarnation of chaos, with an addiction to conflict that destroyed everything and everyone around him, including himself.

No, Izaya had once been pretty peaceful – a quiet pair of eyes in the background of other people's lives. He'd preferred to keep his distance from other humans, and observed them with calm, thoughtful assessment rather than the hunger that grew within him later in life. Even though people-watching was his hobby, he'd been a loner – a model student who got along reasonably well with others, but who didn't really have much to say to them.

He'd enjoyed his time watching the fascinating nature documentary that was human existence, playing out in front of him, but he hadn't really had much of a desire to meddle with the lifestyle of the animals themselves.

Back then, he'd preferred to love humans gently, detachedly – from afar.

From a safe distance.

So, when Shinra had marched up to him one day after class, and introduced himself with an aggressive display of extroversion, it had pretty much sent Izaya running for the hills.

But Shinra had been freakishly persistent.

It was kind of his thing.

He'd followed Izaya everywhere, talking his ear off and pestering him nonstop for days about starting a biology club, even though he didn't really care about biology or anything in the world really, except for someone named 'Celty'. But he'd noticed that Izaya liked observing people, and that basically fell under the biological bailiwick so why not found a club based around that?

It had made Izaya pretty damn unsettled, at first, when he was still trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He hadn't been pleased at the discovery that someone had been spying on him for long enough to figure out his interests - hadn't enjoyed the experience of having his personality assessed so accurately by some random stranger.

The irony wasn't lost on him.

It made him huff and shake his head with a self-deprecating grin – too high on thoughts of Shinra to feel bad about the fact that he'd apparently developed a tendency to inflict his deepest fears onto others, like it was some sort of instinct.

Izaya had never interacted with someone who latched onto him like an exuberant puppy that refused to let go – with the exception perhaps being his little sisters, before they'd permanently lost interest in him – and he'd reacted to the experience no differently than he did with the twins.

With the same impatient dismissal, and a level of callous indifference that was too guarded to be genuine.

Izaya had brushed Shinra off like he was Mairu and Kururi, dancing around his feet, asking him to play with them. He just hadn't known what to make of their enthusiasm to his presence, and had thus found himself highly unwilling to engage.

The only cure to his hesitance had been to figure out Shinra's damage. It hadn't been hard – Shinra pretty much wore it on his sleeve. After a period of information gathering – quite the sinister prelude for what he would one day become – Izaya had finally felt prepared enough to reciprocate Shinra's interest in him.

He had found his discoveries too inspiring to ignore the boy – the one who didn't care about humans at all. Someone who was his exact opposite.

Someone who got along so well with others, without giving a damn about them.

What an interesting concept, he had thought.

When Izaya finally agreed to start the stupid club with him, Shinra's face had broken into a dazzling smile – the boy had literally blushed at him – like Izaya had just given him everything he'd ever wanted from life. Then he'd launched out of his school chair to envelop him in one of the last spontaneous hugs he'd ever received.

Izaya had pushed him away sternly, because he didn't like to be touched.

Sometimes, he wished he had taken a moment to savor it a little instead.

His eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he stared with unseeing eyes at the horizon in front of him.

His finger began to trail his lips in smaller, more lingering gestures, as he began contemplating his own nature, and how quickly it had turned cruel. Pondering over how much of that change had been instigated by his feelings for his only true friend. Ruminating over the fact that his sinister side had risen up from within him like a dormant split personality he'd been oblivious to, because it had been patiently waiting in the wings for the perfect moment to make its grand entrance. Thinking about how it was no wonder he had trained himself to always be sniffing for that same dark potential in others – how could he not, when he'd experienced firsthand the drastic shift in the trajectory of his own personality? If he could go from being harmless to a demon, for some inexplicable reason nobody would ever be able to explain, why couldn't anybody else? Who knew what these creatures that called themselves humans could truly be capable of?

He should have known that a thought spiral that tangled wouldn't lead anywhere pleasant, but Izaya really just couldn't stop himself once he got going. It was his curse.

His sinisterness had grown like a cancerous tumor inside him, corrupting him into something unrecognizable, and it had all started with Shinra - on that day he'd been willing to die for Izaya, to protect him from his own just desserts, all the way back in middle school.

Izaya, still in his fledgling form, had turned the biology club they'd founded together into a front for illegal betting – a minor bit of delinquency centered around the potential outcomes of baseball games. It was laughably tame compared to the shit he would proceed to get into, later in life, but it had somehow come back to bite him in the ass worse than anything else ever had – recent events notwithstanding…

Izaya's left leg jerked spastically – he didn't really know why.

Sometimes, when he was contemplating his history, they just did that. One or both of them would jump, suddenly, like an invisible doctor had hit that sweet spot on his knee with a hammer – and it was like being struck by a spontaneous lightning bolt of pure agony. It was as if his own body independently decided to punish him for his past mistakes, whenever he dwelled on them for too long.

Or as if there really was a God, listening in on every thought he ever had – and laughing at him, torturing him whenever it seemed appropriate.

"Ah, fuck!" he gasped. Izaya had never really been one to swear out loud, finding vulgarity to be terribly uncreative, but when he was alone by himself and had just been completely blindsided by overwhelming pain, he did it reflexively.

Izaya hissed, dug his fingers into his thighs as he bent over his knees and squeezed his eyes shut. Every muscle in his body was pulled tight in a rictus of agony – it was like his legs had just been broken all over again.

"Hai, hai, I get it already!" he said, between gritted teeth, frustrated almost to the point of tears again. "I know!"

He'd accepted his punishment, embraced it willfully even, as he did most things in life – but he really didn't enjoy these unexpected potshots, taken at him from some higher power that thought he needed to suffer a bit more than he already aspired to.

He knew he'd fucked up; he didn't need the helpful little reminders from God.

Shinra had tried to stop him – had literally been explaining to him that something bad was gonna happen to him if he didn't cut the illegal gambling shit – when a student named Nakura had burst into the biology room, brandishing a knife and demanding money from Izaya. He'd had the strung-out look of a junkie willing to kill for his next fix, and he wasn't even halfway through puberty yet.

That was the sort of effect Izaya had on people, even back when he hadn't been trying to.

He'd had absolutely zero intention of forking over the money, just because Nakura-kun was too chicken-shit to face his parent's reaction when they found out how much he'd lost. Izaya had already received several complaints from people who'd been harassed by him after they won, and wasn't one bit moved by his distress.

He remembered thinking, Pray tell, in what way is this predicament you find yourself in my problem? If you don't wanna lose money, then don't gamble. Duh.

He'd had the situation perfectly under control. Even as a kid, Izaya had been incapable of feeling physically threatened by anyone in his peer group. He'd picked up a chair, ready to defend himself with a confidence he hadn't really had the opportunity to earn yet.

He didn't know why he hadn't been scared, why he'd been more amused than anything else by the dramatic irony of Nakura-kun showing up with a knife to extort him, just as Shinra had been bitching at him about consequences.

He'd never been in a fight before, but Izaya had felt ready for it. Had almost been a bit excited by it, even though the situation dripped with tension and the potential for life-threatening violence. It was like he'd suddenly become aware that he was an apex-predator, and the kid waving a knife at him was no more than a bleating sheep.

What, was he supposed to be scared?

Indeed, even back when he'd born no ill intentions towards anyone, Izaya had still been the furthest thing from normal.

I should have been terrified.

Because the bad thing that happened to Izaya that day – the thing Shinra had tried to warn him about – was so much worse than getting knifed.

He would know. He had been mortally stabbed twice in his life, now. It really wasn't that big of a deal, provided you survived.

And Izaya was nothing, if not a survivor.

Unfortunately, at the time this all went down, Shinra hadn't figured that out about him yet.

Nakura-kun had lunged at him with a scream of madness, as if Izaya had, without even trying, finally driven him to his breaking point and made him abandon all his fear of consequences – a state Izaya would find himself driven to actively cultivate into others from that point forward. It had actually taken him aback for a second, just how much hatred a person he'd felt nothing for could be capable of holding towards him.

He'd been fascinated by the phenomenon of his own influence over another human, planning to rely on instinct rather than forethought to diffuse a situation he'd almost been too distracted by his own growing feeling of power to take seriously.

'You really are a moron,' he'd informed the kid rushing at him with an extended blade, holding his chair at the ready and wearing a satisfied look of anticipation on his face – like a cat watching a mouse run right into its claws.

And then the bad thing happened to him and ruined everything fun about the moment.

Shinra jumped in front of the knife.

Izaya groaned, involuntarily and aloud at the memory, not even realizing that he was doing it until he became aware of his chest vibrating against his knees. He was curled up against them in an almost fetal position, still trembling in pain from the way his leg had spazzed out on him.

Shinra, that idiot, had thrown himself in front of Izaya with his arms spread wide and a shout of protective protest, without even a second thought.

As if that wasn't a totally absurd thing to do, when you were watching someone reap the rewards of their own folly.

He remembered hearing the thud of the knife as it sank into Shinra's body, posed in front of him like he was Jesus Christ himself, ready to die for Izaya's sins.

Remembered watching Shinra double over with a cry of pain, before he sank to his knees at his feet -barely even cognizant of Nakura-kun dropping the knife and fleeing from the room. Izaya had only had eyes for his fallen friend, and they had been wide in a rare moment of pure shock. His lips had parted in disbelief at a turn of events that had never even for a second occurred to him, wondering in the back of his mind, if it had ever occurred to Shinra.

He had stared, as Shinra's blood began to spread out from under him, in a pretty red puddle over the classroom floor and thought, intelligently - Huh?

Yeah, for a few seconds there, Izaya's formidable brain had basically been reduced to a big screaming question mark.

Sometimes he thinks that, in that moment, it had defensively performed an instant reboot – commenced an emergency shutdown to protect itself, only when systems came back online, nothing looked the same anymore.

Like some sort of virus had been downloaded into him, destined to corrupt his files over time, he just hadn't been aware of it yet.

Yes, a very, very bad thing had happened to Izaya that day.

He remembered rushing over to Shinra, crouching down next to him as he pulled out a phone to call an ambulance, before Shinra told him they needed to take care of the bleeding first.

He remembered how Shinra had pulled himself into a seated position, leaning back against a table, clutching his torn stomach with a sheepish look on a face otherwise wincing in pain, as if even he didn't really know where that one had come from.

He remembered duct-taping the wound with school stationary, as Shinra had instructed him, wearing a dark, contemplative look in his eyes, and thinking something like, Why, why, why? Why did you do that? What about your beloved Celty, huh? What was your big plan to win her over, after you let yourself die because of me? Don't you know being dead means you won't exist anymore? Good luck getting a woman to fall for you in that condition, Shinra, you fucking moron!

Here's what you should have done – stood back and watched with the same stupid smile you always wear and then told me 'See, I told you so,' like the detached-from-humanity little shit I know you really are, after I inevitably survived this mess – because I was going to win, Shinra! Couldn't you see that? Why can't you tell I'm unstoppable?!

He had only been a kid, after all. Only children and adults who never grew up were stupid enough to think that way. It had taken Izaya a very long time, and a hell of a lot of convincing to finally outgrow that belief himself – the fast-held one that, fear of inevitable death aside, he was secretly invincible.

Present-day Izaya – having finally learned his lesson six months ago, at the ripe age of twenty-six – trembled pointedly in his wheelchair.

Past-Shinra had spoken up, looking at Izaya's gently scowling face and responding with a self-deprecating chuckle, 'As I suspected, I'm not really much of a hero, huh? I just thought the person I loved would…' he'd broken off into a whimper of pain that made Izaya call out 'Oi!' to him reflexively, in a concerned bid to communicate that he should stop talking.

'I'm fine,' Shinra had reassured him with a big smile, totally lacking in resentment, 'Looks like my internal organs are okay.'

Izaya, crouched down in front of him, had eyed him in return with a serious face, totally devoid of humor or gratitude, thinking, So, you really did that for me to win Celty's approval? What an ass-backwards strategy, Shinra. It's not like you could have enjoyed your reward for being a good friend, from all the way down in your grave.

Izaya wasn't yet self-aware enough to pin down exactly what it was about that incident that had triggered his propensity towards sadism – he only knew that it had.

Big time.

Suddenly, he'd become inspired by the way Nakura-kun had fled from the scene earlier, babbling, 'No, no, no, no…I was just trying to scare…scare… Orihara! It wasn't me…Not me! It's not my fault!'

Yes, what an intriguing concept…

What if it really hadn't been Nakura-kun that did this?

'Na, Shinra. About that wound…' he had begun, picking up the bloodied knife from the ground and rising to his feet. 'Can I say I stabbed you with this knife?' He'd stared down at it with a smile full of darkness - the very first symptom of an affliction that spawned within him like a spontaneously-developed allergic reaction. Then he'd looked up at Shinra, offering him an evil promise in exchange. 'In return…I'll spend the rest of my life making Nakura-kun regret this.'

And because Shinra was only mostly harmless, he'd given his blessing – after a moment of thoughtful contemplation – with an innocent little smile and a, 'Ah…Sure, Orihara-kun, that sounds fine to me. So, for what reason should I tell the cops you stabbed me?'

'Just tell them you'd been pestering me like you always do, and I finally snapped. Nobody's gonna struggle to buy that one.'

'Hmmm…is that because I'm just so annoying, or because you're just that terrible?'

It was as if he'd known all along.

Izaya had given him a flat look and deadpanned, 'We'll let that be a mystery for the people to ponder, Shinra.'

Izaya laughed into his kneecaps, something detached and ironic about the sound, thinking about how Shinra really was a way bigger asshole than anyone gave him credit for.

After that incident, Izaya had taken a running-start to his future career as part info-broker, part the-reason-for-the-worst-days-of-your-life, with a pretty little stain on his permanent record and a reputation as someone capable of stabbing a puppy-faced individual like Shinra.

And, as promised, he'd made torturing the boy that made the enormous mistake of stabbing Shinra instead of him a lifelong commitment.

Nakura-kun was still running around out there, wearing a version of Izaya's face he'd been blackmailed into plastic surgery to achieve – forever on hold, waiting in absolute dread for the next time he'd be summoned as a scapegoat or a false flag to whatever dangerous, illegal shit Izaya felt like getting up to next. To this day he still used the name 'Nakura' to troll people, and then let the real Nakura take the fallout. He'd probably twisted that fool's mind into a constant state of anxiety and paranoia – he probably never got a restful night's sleep in his life! He just had to go about his life as normal, waiting for the next time Izaya surprise sucker-punched him with karmic retribution.

Good.

That thought gave him just enough satisfaction to pull himself up from his knees and settle back into his chair. Izaya's face was smoothed out into an expressionless mask as he spun his wheelchair around in a quick circle, abandoning the glorious view he couldn't appreciate anyway and missioning instead for his living room.

He rolled to a stop in front of his smart, black coffee table and grabbed the remote lying on top of it, something mechanical and abrupt about his movement as he turned on the TV. Izaya stared at it blankly, not even realizing that he'd left it on mute and was silently watching a late-night cooking show, even though he despised cooking.

He had entered a temporary state of emotional detachment, but he was still unable to stop picking at the whole 'Shinra doesn't love me anymore' thing.

See, Izaya had a tendency to fuck people up for life, if they messed with Shinra.

In a way that was almost all business and no pleasure.

But Shinra wasn't nearly that protective over him. Even though he'd been willing to throw his life away for Izaya once, apparently that had been a 'heat of the moment' sort of thing. Nowadays he didn't really seem to care if Izaya got stabbed, or murdered, or viciously handicapped, when he wasn't around to see it.

He doubted Shinra had even asked about him once, doubted he cared whether or not Izaya had survived the consequences of his own actions.

Izaya's entire body grew still in his wheelchair, like a cat that had just spotted prey – the target, one of his many raging insecurities: the idea that Shinra would probably feel like he deserved his fate, no matter what it happened to be.

And I can't even disagree with him. That's what really sucks. Admitting you're wrong is the worst!

When Shinra was inevitably informed about his disappearance, Izaya figured he had probably just shaken his head in exasperation, and made some comment about how, 'Orihara-kun will never learn.'

Izaya looked down with a grimace. He dropped the TV remote into his lap and clutched at his white shirt tightly, right over where his suddenly pounding heart felt like it was trying to escape his body. The burning sensation that spread out over his chest was nothing but a chemical reaction to anxiety, and he knew that, but that didn't make him feel any less sorry for himself.

He crossed his legs again, tossing his head back with a sigh and closed his eyes as the agony swept over him. The remote fell onto the floor with a clatter, but he didn't even hear it.

The pain felt like silence in his mind.

When it had passed, he opened them and blinked tiredly at the ceiling.

People drift apart. It was normal. They were adults with separate lives now, not children running a poor excuse for a biology club.

And it's not like Izaya was the only person willing to go so out of his way for the man. Shinra was just special – anyone who ever tried to hurt him would find themselves facing down the wrath of the otherworldly being he had somehow pestered into falling in love with him, and the separate but equally motivated efforts of the two most feared men in Ikkebukuro.

Izaya's jaw clenched and he ground his teeth, trying to stop his thoughts from going any further, but it was almost impossible.

See, the funny little thing about Shinra was; he was pretty damn good at managing relationships with walking calamities. He had a whole fucking trio of them. He was friends with Izaya, was dating an incarnation of death, as well as also being on good terms with Public Enemy Number Two…

Shizu-chan.

Izaya flinched – his head jerking to the side in a small but abrupt motion, like a very weak-armed person had slapped him right in his face. He scowled reflexively.

This was the problem with thinking about Shinra. Inevitably, it always led him back to Shizu-chan. Because obviously it did. Shinra had been the one with the bright idea to introduce them to each other back in High School, having been under the deeply misguided impression that they'd get along.

Oh, they'd gotten on like a house on fire alright – one of those fires that spread to engulf entire neighborhoods full of screaming people trying desperately to evacuate.

They'd gotten on so well that their High School had felt compelled to change its name, after they graduated – to distance itself from the wild rumors about destruction of property and attempted manslaughter.

Rumors that were pretty much based entirely on fact.

But Izaya kept fighting it, trying not to lose territory in his own mind. Shizu-chan could have every other part of him, he'd relinquish it all willingly.

Why did he have to take one of the very last things that brought him happiness?

He'd already won Shinra, the one that existed in the real world, in their messy final breakup! He couldn't have the one in his mind too!

But the tragic thing was, he already did.

Thus, Izaya began to battle in vain against the following thoughts like they were persistent flies that wouldn't stop buzzing in his ear; in a nasty internal dialogue centered around how, if Shinra had been forced to choose one of them to survive the other, he probably would have picked Shizu-chan to join him on the living team, and given Izaya an apologetic smile and a shrug as if to say:

'Sorry, Orihara-kun. But you get why though, right? I was kinda friends with him first. And he's way more interesting to me, on account of his freakish superhuman strength! You know I only give a damn about that supernatural shit, that's what you love about me! And, also, raging anger issues and wanton destruction of property aside, Shizuo somehow manages to cause less trouble for people on his worst days than you do on your best! He's a pretty peaceful person, you know? He hates violence and hurting people – but you would never leave him alone!

You just kept provoking him! You made a game out of ruining his life and destroying any sense of peace he could find! You're the reason he feels like he has to dye his hair blond and dress like a bartender, so people can see him coming from afar and run away! I'm pretty sure you're the reason he chain-smokes, and if you're playing the long game on that one, I have to congratulate you because that just might be the thing that kills him one day!

You made him hate and fear himself by making him lose control over and over again! You got him arrested and fired from multiple jobs! You sicked one of the Yakuza's little girls on him, as if a child assassin ever had a chance in hell of working on Shizuo, and now most of them want you dead for it – well done! That wasn't a batshit insane and totally self-destructive thing to do at all – for God's sake, Orihara-kun, you worked with those people! What were you thinking? And then you tried to murder him yourself, once and for all, and really sucked at it! You made Celty have to come and clean up your mess! She has better things to do you know – things like me!

'I mean, I like you and all, but even I know the world would be a better place if you were gone. This is the only rational choice. You should never have antagonized him and forced me to have to make this decision. Now I'm stuck with one less friend, just like I kept telling you would happen one day if you didn't stop this madness before it got out of control.

'Oh, but remember that one time back in high school, when I told you to your face – well, the back of your head really, since you always seem to be walking away from me for some mysterious reason whenever I try to talk to you – that I wouldn't really even care if that happened, on account of the fact that I'm really fucked in the head?

'You know, that time I tracked you down where you were sulking on the roof at school, secretly hiding from Shizuo, totally excited to talk to you about your first impression of him? That day just after I introduced you to him and he nearly fucking killed you right in front of me by bursting your head with his fist – probably would have looked something like a ripe watermelon being hit by a cannonball! Isn't that incredible?! – because he hated your guts on sight? Could you believe the way he demolished those bleachers you were sitting on when you miraculously managed to dodge the blow – because your reflexes used to be almost supernatural, but not quite, right?

'Hahaha, remember how he proceeded to walk away from the truck you guided him into, while you were fleeing for your life – kudos on the quick thinking, you always were very clever for a person that never learns – like it was nothing to him? That truck hit him at full speed, he went flying straight into the air for like twenty feet and didn't even break a singlebone! Now that's the crazy shit that really gets me off! An ordinary human like you could never compare to that! Can you toss a vending machine across an intersection? No! You can't even dodge them anymore!

'That's why I tried to appeal to you to make amends and just move on – after nearly getting you killed by irresponsibly bringing a shady-ass individual like you into contact with my hyper-aggressive pet mutant, without warning you he could be triggered merely by not liking the look on your face and the sarcastic way you clap at people sometimes – not that it really made a difference to me how it all turned out either way! Because I'mShinra and I'm a freak and I only care about onething in the whole wide world, and that's the supernatural headless woman I'm currently banging!

'So yeah, all that nasty shit I said back then still applies. I did try to warn you, many, many, many, many times to stop fucking with Shizuo! How many times did you two show up at my door with injuries I had to patch up? Did you think that was fun for me? You antagonized him right in my house! He nearly destroyed my living room several times because of you! Bye-bye, Orihara-kun! Good thing I still have Celty!'

Izaya blinked rapidly.

This was getting a little too intense.

It was like Shinra was in the freaking room with him, his impression of him felt so spot on.

Like he was channeling his ghost and the man wasn't even dead yet.

Or at least, he hoped he wasn't. It's not like anyone would have told him.

This was the problem with getting to know people too well, he decided. He could start to conjure their voices in his head just a little too fucking accurately to handle.

"Thank God I didn't decide to call him," Izaya said with wide eyes, looking a little shell-shocked. "There really was a third option…he could have been uncaring that I was alive and still excited to bitch at me anyway…Yikes! Bullet dodged, well done Izaya! Sometimes, you do make good decisions. See, Shinra? I'm finally learning."

He bent over the side of his chair, reaching for the remote on the floor. His fingers were barely able to brush it at first, and he spent some time in strained agony from tensing too many muscles in his body, trying to reach it without falling out of his chair.

He grunted in satisfaction once he had it in hand. He settled back down and lifted his arm to change the channel. He turned the volume up to a level that would probably earn him some complaints from his neighbors, not that he gave a damn.

It was the tail-end of some crazy Game Show – one of the ones that usually made him laugh at the sheer absurdity of it all, fascinated by the random-ass shit humans came up with to entertain themselves and others.

Now it barely serviced as white noise.

He was still reeling from his own, in his opinion, spot-on impression of what Shinra would probably have to say about all this.

The grand irony of Izaya's train of thoughts – the punchline to the joke that was his feeling of having been abandoned by Shinra – was a little piece of information he didn't have.

One that explained why Manami-san had been sitting in the backseat of his getaway car.

Why she had been there to help Kine pick up his broken body and deliver him to safety, before promptly disappearing out of his life with that thoughtful look in her eyes – like she'd had some grand epiphany that had changed her.

And that bit of information was this: Shinra really did love Izaya, in the way you can't help but love an individual when you understand them down to their deepest level.

This understanding had come about for two reasons: Shinra's unique detachment from humanity, and the young age at which they'd met. Shinra had looked at him for just long enough, with eyes that saw a fascinating specimen rather than a threat, and solved the great puzzle that was Orihara Izaya.

And on that dreadful night six months ago, while Izaya had been fighting for his life against Shizuo and losing in one part of town, a battered and broken Shinra had been limping through another in desperate pursuit of Celty – with the assistance of that very same girl who had come to kill Izaya in his hospital bed – relaying his findings.

'What does Orihara Izaya dread more than anything?' hadasked the girl who still wanted nothing more than to make Izaya pay for what he'd once done to her, even after he'd told her he adored her like a total crazy person, 'If you know anything, please tell me.'

After questioning her motives, non-judgmentally, Shinra had looked up at the night sky and responded thoughtfully. 'What he dreads most, huh? Let's see... Basically, when it comes to humans, Orihara-kun is never driven to despair. And that's why interpersonal relationships, or the dirty side of humans, or betrayal… He doesn't dread any of those things. But you know, I don't think that's because Orihara-kun has a strong heart. It's the opposite, actually.'

Manami had blinked at him, making a small sound of confusion – and a bit of reflexive rejection at the idea Izaya could be anything other than strong – as Shinra continued, 'The truth is, he's more human than anyone else, and his heart is fragile. And that's why he decided not to be offended, and to love humans no matter what. Do you understand? He's like a carp kite or a windsock. No more than a bottomless tube. So, there's no limit to how much he can take in. I guess,' Shinra had concluded, 'He dreads the kind of things that hurt or cause suffering.'

But Izaya had no idea that this conversation had taken place – had no idea that Shinra understood him too well to ever possibly be indifferent to him.

Izaya very much believed that he was no longer an important person in Shinra's life.

He had his head tilted to the side, resting on his knuckles and was glaring at the TV. He was starting to brood now, more grumpy than anxious. The blaring noise of the television and the sheer bitchiness of his own internal monologue from Shinra had drowned out his self-pity and replaced it with bitterness.

Now, it really wasn't Izaya's fault that he was confused.

Shinra hadn't just tripped, fallen over and accidentally given him the impression he didn't give a fuck anymore.

No, he'd actually made it pretty damn impossible for Izaya to imagine any differently, that time about a year ago when he'd been publicly stabbed and had actually felt vulnerable enough to call Shinra from the hospital – for no other reason than to hear his voice and moan about it a little.

Shinra's reaction had been pretty fucking telling, Izaya thought, seething slightly at the memory.

It still made him feel indignant, even to this day.

See, when you called a person that cared about you and told them you were in the hospital on account of having nearly been assassinated, they weren't supposed to brush you off as quickly as possible so they could get back to vacationing with their headless girlfriend – the location of whose head, Shinra had still been lying about not knowing at the time he was brave enough to just hang up on him like that!

Yes, Shinra had treated the very dangerous situation Izaya telephonically explained himself to be in – namely that he was injured, hospitalized, and it had been on the news for everybody to see – like it was a terrible inconvenience he simply didn't have time for. Despite being fully aware of the fact that Izaya had been made publicly vulnerable, and being too smart not to realize that he was one hundred percent guaranteed to be targeted again.

For God's sake Shinra, I have feelings. You of all people should know that, you insensitive prick.

He really was a piss poor excuse for a friend, Izaya thought, while scowling at the unwatched antics on his screaming television.

Shinra was lucky all he'd done in retaliation was implicate him in his attempted murder – he'd held all the power to really fucking ruin his day and for a second he'd been sorely tempted to call back, have Shinra put him on speaker, and blurt out to Celty before anyone had the chance to stop him, including himself - 'By the way, Shinra knows where your head is and he's been lying to you about it! Enjoy the rest of your trip, you two!'

It would have been a remarkable display of self-sabotage – because if Celty had figured out that Izaya had her head in his possession, it would have unraveled all of his original plans instantly – but that had never stopped him before. Self-preservation stopped being any sort of factor in his decision-making, when Izaya felt that rejected by someone.

Like it did with Shiz - …

His head did the flinching thing again. He ignored it this time – focused a little more on the delightfully petty manner in which he'd taken his revenge, and grinned like he was still proud of himself and not at all angsting over the whole thing.

Shinra was his favorite, and he couldn't help the way that he was – not when it came to Celty – so Izaya had pulled himself back from blowing up his whole entire love-life, restraining himself to a little prank. He'd spotted the detectives seated in the hospital waiting room, spying on him with barely any discretion from over hastily raised newspapers. He'd grinned nastily, raised his voice and proceeded to yell accusingly into the dead phone, 'It's all your fault something so terrible happened to an upstanding citizen such as myself! Didn't I warn you over and over to stop your illegal activities?'

He'd pretended to hang up with a charming smile, politely thanking the pretty young nurse for letting him borrow the phone – all the while laughing maniacally on the inside at the potential fallout of pointing the police at a black-market doctor.

Shinra hadn't seemed to appreciate how very lenient he'd been when Izaya called back to reveal that yes, he had indeed just sicked the cops on him, have fun with that. Instead, he'd laughed bitterly, said something along the lines of wishing Izaya would die and hung up on him again.

And that had been the last thing Shinra ever said to him, almost a whole year ago now.

Prick, he thought, resentfully.

Sometime after that, when it was Shinra's turn to be violently assaulted – by some sadist who broke into his house and tortured him mercilessly, looking for information Shinra didn't even have – Izaya had taken the opportunity to make his continuing displeasure known by ruthlessly cold shouldering him.

He'd done his part to find the man who did that to his piss poor excuse for a friend – had locked the fucking sadist up in a dark little cage, intending to never let him see the light of day again – but Izaya had drawn the line at picking up the phone and checking on his victim.

He had still been way too pissed for that.

Because Shinra had made it perfectly clear he didn't give a damn about his life anymore, and while Izaya couldn't hold it against him, that really stung. What if it had been a man with a loaded gun that had come for him that night, instead of a cute little girl armed with only a knife and one hell of a grudge?

He probably would have just carried on with his stupid vacation, he thought, throwing up his hands in defeat, and shaking his head at his television as if it was sympathizing with his predicament instead of shouting random nonsense.

No, it was hardly Izaya's fault that he didn't know how much Shinra cared.

That he didn't know Shinra's response to an interviewer who had asked him about Izaya's recent disappearance had been anything but flippant; 'People think of him like some cold-blooded monster, but he's more human than anyone I know; he's so fragile inside. If you pumped him full of love and betrayal and such, I think he'd fall apart. I think that's why he decided to love humanity by letting everything wash over him. Do you see what I'm saying? He accepts everything, but he doesn't take it in. He lets it wash over him.'

It was a response that nobody wanted to publish, in an article about one of the most despised men in town – so Izaya would never have the chance to read it. Would never be comforted by it.

Thus, Izaya was letting his hurt wash over him, exactly as Shinra had pegged him.

And he probably would have kept up that way for a much longer time, if it hadn't been for a funny little intervention of fate that escalated his bad night into something awful, finally chasing him out of his apartment.

The game show ended, and was replaced with another one – one centered around a pretty brutal game of tag between two players, on a wild obstacle course.

He should have turned it off immediately, he knew he should have…

But he couldn't bring himself to look away.

Because the way the participants moved…the way one of them chased after the other, flying around a well over-budgeted obstacle course, was just too nostalgic to look away from.

The two men were engaged in a desperate battle of cat and mouse, parkouring around obstructions, doubling back around in evasive maneuvers…knocking over some shit that wasn't nailed down…a desperate tension in the air, exertion on their faces when the cameras zoomed in. Something wild in their eyes, like they'd tapped into those animal instincts that humans always forget exist – and they were having the time of their lives doing it! The judge's loud commentary went in one ear and out the other as Izaya watched, gradually growing more and more tense.

Everything in his body began to ache. His fingers clutched the arms of his wheelchair so tightly his knuckles turned white. His arms screamed at him for the effort. His legs were so fucking sore.

The game came to a close when one of them finally tagged the other – by swinging on some monkey bars and launching right over the obstruction his victim was trying to block him with. He hung in the air for a second as Izaya held his breath, before falling down to tackle his prey right into the ground.

Izaya jumped, violently in his seat, as it happened – his entire body punishing him for it immediately. The instant, overwhelming pain swept over him like a bucket of ice-water, leaving him shivering in his wheelchair.

His muscles trembled, as he watched with wide, disturbed eyes – the men getting to their feet, clasping each other's backs and shaking hands with a laugh to the cheer of screaming spectators.

He shut the TV off immediately.

The sudden silence in his apartment made his ears pop a little bit. He crushed the remote in his hand, doing no damage to anything but himself in the action – he no longer possessed nearly enough power in his arms to break anything.

Izaya had just made a huge mistake, and he'd known he was doing it the entire time – how fucking typical!

"Guess I was lying, Shinra!" he yelled, "I really won't ever learn!"

Then he tossed the remote over his shoulder and slapped his hand over his face, slumping over the side of his chair. He shuddered, grinding his jaw so hard he thought he might be feeling his teeth crumbling a bit.

There they came – Izaya could no longer contain his thoughts about Shizu-chan. They overtook him entirely, in the sick way they tended to do, robbing him of any remaining prospects of sleep.

Reminding him of the one time he'd broken his 'no actively trying to murder people' rule, and all the ways it had fucked him up.

Reminding him of all the ways he'd always been fucked up, over Shizuo.

He'd thought Shizu-chan would be the only exception ever.

Because Shizu-chan was the ultimate exception in his life, like a dark, festering hole in his otherwise contented heart that Izaya didn't know how to deal with.

Because Simon had called it pretty accurately, that time over a year ago, when he'd caught Izaya skipping harmlessly through town with his eyes closed and called cheerfully, 'Hey!'. When he'd proceeded to punch Izaya all the way across the street with a big happy grin – fittingly, into a big sign board that spelled 'love' – after Izaya turned to look.

Simon had been watching them from the beginning – how he and Shizu-chan had run around his precious Russia sushi restaurant for almost a decade, causing chaos in his streets. Breaking up fights by stepping between them and holding off Shizu-chan for long enough for Izaya to run away. Tryna convince the two of them to sit down in his restaurant and talk out their issues like men, as if that wasn't a guaranteed recipe to get the whole place destroyed.

And Simon had a little something to report to him that night.

Apparently, Izaya was just a big coward. Not that he hadn't always known and loved that about himself, just like everything else about him.

Simon had crouched down in front of him as Izaya was pulling himself up from the sucker-punch of his fucking life. The giant man was the only one capable of stopping Shizu-chan right in his tracks, probably because Shizu-chan was always holding back a lot and not tryna use any improvised weaponry against him, but still. Back then he had assumed that if it was just a fist fight, Simon might just take the victory – he had a mean-ass punch! Good thing he was a gentle, peace loving pacifist with a silly exaggerated accent, and not at all a fiercely perceptive, former special Soviet Forces operative, prone to randomly punching people he's known since they were a teenager whenever he thinks they've earned it!

Simon had then proceeded to have a nice little chat with him in Russian – which is how he always spoke to Izaya, when he didn't want other people to understand what they were saying and get scared – explaining that everybody could read him waaaay better than he thought they could.

Because he just had a Shizuo-complex, didn't he? A fixation with an individual that he just couldn't let go of.

And everybody could see it.

Oh yeah? Well, your sushi is fucking weird, Simon, since we're pointing out the obvious! Try to stick to one continent for fucks sake! Keep your goddamn Pelmeni away from my fatty tuna! Nobody comes to your restaurant for the food, they're all hoping it's a front for organized crime! Yes, those rumors were started by me, because don't even pretend you don't keep a shit-load of guns in there! I used to break in and steal the bullets out of them all the time, just for fun – since you like to pretend you're so non-violent and all, why not let me help you out by neutering your weaponry for shits and giggles a bit? Hahahaha, and you think that you can read me? Maybe you'd have reconsidered that opinion, the next time you tried to fire a gun at someone only to wonder, 'who could have screwed this moment up for me so perfectly? Oh my god, there could only be one! How did I not see this coming! I thought I knew him so well!'

He hadn't said any of that to Simon at the time – he had been pretty damn graceful in the moment. Laughing gently like he wasn't at all offended, and explaining to Simon that he really was in love with his own cowardice, as his face began to swell up like a balloon. But he'd wanted to claw his eyes out a little!

Because of course, everybody could see he was obsessed Shizu-chan!

It's not like Izaya had ever been allowed to delude himself that they couldn't!

There were literally hundreds of people that shipped them together! The forums that focused on that had probably been the only ones saddened by his parting from Ikkebukuro! Those people saw them together as some sort of wild, live-action OTP engaged in some loveable Tom and Jerry antics!

Except, Tom legitimately fucking wanted Jerry dead, the feeling was entirely mutual, and they were capable of destroying entire chunks of the city if they got too into it! Why would the good people of Ikkebukuro be into that? Why would they root for it to keep going on and on forever, like it was their favorite cartoon?

He suspected the main reason those forums had all gone cold was because they were all too depressed about how their fucking OTP crashed and burned so hard to keep talking about it! There had been an outcry of distress and mourning, and then absolute silence. Had they no sense of self-preservation, or at least any fucks to give about all the property damage?

But noooo.

Apparently, the chemistry had just been too literally fucking explosive for people to ignore – they were like some sort of perfect yin and yang! From their wildly different fighting styles, to their clashing personalities, to their voices and the way they spoke, right down to the blond and black hair and the stupid little nicknames they had for each other!

They were a volatile chemical reaction of totally opposing substances that caused carnage and chaos wherever they went, and yes! Yes, some part of him had always loved it! He just didn't know why! He had hated Shizu-chan, really truly hated him more than anything in the world, so why the fuck did he always have such a fun time playing with him?!

Why did he miss being able to think about Shizu-chan chasing after him, without the paralyzing fear of life changing brutality?

Simon hadn't brought all the shipping business up, thank God. The point he had been making was a little too serious for all that – namely that Izaya needed to cut his shit and stop ruining people's lives already.

But Erica would never freaking shut up about it! She'd literally bring it up every time she saw him! She was one of those sneaky little shits that acted totally ditzy, but Izaya was practically too chicken-shit to ever try to mess with too badly, fearing what she'd do to his reputation if she ever felt truly motivated. She had worked as a sadistic interrogator for some random criminal organization before evolving into a raging Fujoshi with a hardcore manga obsession. Half her hobby was torturing people in the ways that anime had inspired her, until they broke and gave her whatever information she wanted – and the other half was obsessing over boy-on-boy love! Could he be blamed for fearing she'd post something creepy, get it to go viral, and burn him to the ground in some way?

Half of those fucking forums were probably started by her – and that's what she gets up to when she's not tryna actively piss me off!

He was pretty sure she wrote fanfiction about them, and the worst part was – a really sick part of him wanted to read it, because he was just so fascinated by the disgusting concept of it! He'd think about what they might read like sometimes - he'd go back and forth on whether he'd skip the smut.

And then he'd slap himself in the face and start picturing all the evil things he'd like to do to Erika if he thought he could get away with it!

It's like, when someone won't stop teasing you, and you can't kill them because you don't do that, you just sort of run out of options and start to practice desperate evasive maneuvers. Izaya had never run from any sort of conflict in his life, but Erica seriously just made him too uncomfortable sometimes. It was like she wasn't intimidated by him at all, because she thought he had a secret soft mushy side! But that wasn't gonna make her let him get away with being a dick to her, oh no, she'd put him in his place!

Fucking Erica! You're the real menace in that town! I'd love you a lot more for it if it didn't make me want to puke most of the time!

She genuinely thought they were secretly in love, and he was so fucked up over Shizuo he literally couldn't tell if she was on to something or if he was just so PTSDed he'd confused it with real feelings! He might have been PTSDed from the very first moment they met – the man had literally thrown a very life-threatening punch at him on sight! He had not seen that coming! That had not been the sort of thing that happened to him, back then! What, was he just supposed to adjust normally to something like that? How many people have been punched at by a Shizu-chan that genuinely despised them?

He doesn't despise any of them! They have no idea what it's like to deal with him, but they think they do because he beats them up a little and accidentally breaks their stuff sometimes – he never hated any of them! He's just too fucking angry to human properly, but something about me really seemed to set him off in particular! Do you know what that's like, world, to be going about your life like a normal person and then bam! Shizu-chan's fist comes flying straight at your face with enough horsepower to demolish the very stands you were just sitting on a second ago? You can't not catch feelings from that – they just happen to be some seriously dark and ugly ones! Like the kind that make you immediately pull out your knife and slash out at someone in violence with it for the very first time! Like you'd just spontaneously evolved into something new with sharper claws and a lot more malice! That isn't love! That can't be what love is!

That had fucked something up inside him! Like what happened with Shinra, only way worse somehow – because it had revolved around an indestructible man with superhuman strength that wanted to break all his bones, maybe?!

To call that absolute self-destructive obsession 'love'? Is that even possible? My love for humanity might be impure, but that would be truly fucked up!

Yeah, Simon had really, really called it, that time he punched him in the face and patiently explained his whole world revolved around Shizu-chan.

The condition, an antithesis of his love for the rest of humanity. There had been nothing fond, nothing distant and above-it-all about his feelings towards that man.

But Izaya's hysterical internal rant, an attempt to deflect from the oncoming flashbacks, could only take him so far. He could only scream at others for so long before the reality of it all caught up to him – taking his heart in its hands and crushing it to a million pieces.

Remembering how he had felt about Shizu-chan on the night he'd really fucking tried everything to end him, short of a goddamn ballistic sniper rifle – which would have been a pretty unsporting finish to their exciting rivalry, in his humble opinion.

Thank God I never sniped him…He might have caught the bullet between his teeth, it might have bounced right off him – or his head might have exploded immediately! Oh my God!

Izaya cringed under his hand at the mental image of lining up his shot, taking it, and getting the heart-attack of his life when it miraculously managed to kill him.

He shivered in his wheelchair, thinking that the singular silver lining in all of this was that they were both still alive. He hadn't managed to kill Shizu-chan, or vice versa…neither of them were murderers.

Not for any lack of trying though.

Six months ago, he'd been standing under the night sky, with a glorious view atop a skyscraper, watching Shizu-chan yell at someone beneath him in an alley for tryna mess with his Russian assassin trainee.

Shizu-chan was stalking towards that Kujiragi woman who once got Izaya stabbed, not that he gave a shit about her anymore – they'd pretty much settled their differences. It was just kind of funny to him that she was pretty much a supervillain mastermind with evil mind control powers and a huge grudge against Shizu-chan's best pal Celty, and Shizu-chan was somehow content to only bitch – nonviolently! – at her for hurting his precious little Vorona.

And don't even get him started on Vorona! Shizu-chan had apparently adopted her like she was just some cute little girl to protect – and not a cold-blooded murderer with a body-count high enough to constitute a small town. What a perfect little assistant for a debt collector's bodyguard! They were so cute together it made him sick! The woman could literally get away with holding him at gunpoint – she had just been doing that on the Kujiragi woman's behalf because apparently, she was her bodyguard now! Until Shizu-chan talked her down in a soft, coaxing voice Izaya swore he could hear from all the way up on his skyscraper – like he was dealing with some kind of confused little girl and not an infamous Russian assassin! That crazy bitch had blasted Shizu-chan with a fucking bazooka one time, from what he'd heard – not that you'd ever be able to tell from the way that he looks at her!

But oh, Izaya slashes him with a knife one time in self-defense and guides him into traffic in a bid to escape with his life, and its attack-on-sight forevermore? Talk about double-standards! Maybe if Izaya had been born a woman, they could have actually lived up to their OTP potential. Apparently, Shizu-chan would let them get away with just about anything! Or maybe it was just the really good-looking ones, huh, Shizu-chan you fucking hypocrite?

And also, what a sexist! That Kujiragi woman he was lecturing so patiently was a fucking menace! If anyone deserved a violent punch in the face, it was her. If only Shizu-chan knew what she'd like to do to Celty, right? But no – he'd probably still not lift a finger against her!

And Vorona could have probably taken Izaya in a fight on his best day, if she snuck up on him – which she tended to do to people before murdering them in cold blood! Yet Shizu-chan handled her like she was made of glass, and threw vending machines at Izaya like he wouldn't be crushed by them just as easily as a woman?

Yes, this guy really needed to die.

Not that he hadn't already known that when he woke up that morning, and every other morning ever since he'd met him.

First, he'd thought dropping some steel beams on him from his perch would be a nice way to say hello. He'd directed the crane from atop the roof, guiding it to drop its heavy-ass load right onto Shizu-chan.

Unfortunately, his little psychotic girlfriend had used her super-assassin senses to figure out what was going on just in time, and had dived him outta the way. She got a little hurt in the process, which hadn't been his intention. But she'd survived it just fine, the woman had the reflexes of a cat. And also, she was kind of annoying, even for one of his precious humans. She needed to fuck off before she became collateral damage, he wasn't about to stop all this for her sake.

Izaya had stood there, watching Shizu-chan kneel over his fallen trainee and fawn over her until he'd gotten tired of the sight.

He'd decided to up the ante a little, and move this whole thing along.

Instead of dropping some steel beams onto Shizu-chan with a crane…

He'd take that crane and use an even bigger one to drop the whole damn thing onto him!

This whole event had taken some planning, he'd admit. He had brooded over it quite darkly, for quite some time – with none of his usual cheer.

Shizu-chan had risen to his feet, standing over Vorona lying beneath him – and then took that big-ass crane, dropped on him from fifteen stories high, like it was a hearty slap on his back from an overly-enthusiastic chum. It had landed right on top of him, and for a moment Izaya hadn't been able to tell from his angle if it had successfully squished him – although he would have been pretty devastatingly surprised if it had.

And then Shizu-chan had, as expected, shrugged that big-ass crane off of him somehow – probably just by literally shrugging his shoulders.

It had landed there next to him in the alley with a loud, thunderous crash that Izaya almost swore shook the concrete under his feet, even though he wasn't sure if that was possible all the way up at his vantage point.

Izaya had stood on top of his skyscraper, staring down at Shizu-chan cricking his neck below him, with a judging look of condemnation in his narrowed eyes. If he'd done that to some sort of human being, they'd have been squished like a bug! What a monster!

Then Shizu-chan, after a bit more chatting with his pet-assassin, had begun to walk slowly and determinedly out of the alley.

Izaya knew it was time to have a little heart-to-heart and explain himself.

He'd pulled out his phone and given Shizu-chan a ring, not at all surprised when he picked up immediately. 'Yo, Shizu-chan! To think that all that there didn't kill you – you really are a monster. Although the fact you protected a human can only be described as comical…I might've mentioned this before, but do you think you can get people to like you if you save them? Oh, wait, or do you have special feelings for that girl Vorona, maybe?'

Shizu-chan kept quiet for a few moments too long, so Izaya had carried on talking. 'And by the way, are you sure about leaving Celty like that? Want me to tell you how evil that Kujiragi woman you just let go is?'

'Izaya…' Shizu-chan had said.

He had sounded surprisingly subdued, for once.

'What is it?' Izaya had been curiously – almost eagerly – anticipating what Shizu-chan could have to say to him in such a surprisingly tranquil tone of voice.

'So long.'

He'd said it calmly. Seriously. With peaceful determination.

That might have been the first time Shizu-chan had ever spoken to him like that.

He'd always just been screaming, or growling – and in the rare instances he wasn't doing that, spitefully insulting. Maybe sometimes he'd get a little excited and almost sound happy, but that was the happiness of a rabid dog that thought you would make an excellent chewtoy, so it wasn't exactly an inviting tone of voice either.

Izaya had stayed quiet for a few agonizing seconds, a slightly sour expression frozen on his face. As if waiting for him to say something else. When he'd realized nothing else was coming, he'd responded softly, 'Right, good-bye it is.'

And then he'd immediately hung up, and waited for Shizu-chan to come hunt him down for the very last time.

One way or another…

His chest burning and his heart racing with the symptoms he'd now come to recognize as anxiety.

And, tragically, the pain of rejection – but what sort of reaction had he been expecting, exactly, after launching a vicious surprise attack against him that almost got Vorona killed?

He genuinely didn't know. Izaya only knew that the way Shizu-chan had said goodbye to him like that, as if he was totally at peace with what he was about to try to do to him – stabbed him like a fucking knife in the heart.

For once, that raging, mindless animal had actually calmed down enough to say something thoughtful to him, and it all revolved around how serenely and levelheadedly he was about to try and kill him this time! Like he wasn't even gonna run right to him in a desperate rage, because there was no rush! He was just gonna stroll over – take his time and ease into the inevitability of Izaya's imminent death! Like he was dispassionately taking out the garbage – instead of murdering someone he'd always despised so much he literally chased him around town screaming, 'Kill, kill, kill, kill!' whilst launching massive improvised weaponry!

But that's not what's about to happen, Shizu-chan…The one taking out the garbage tonight is me!

The structures he lured Shizu-chan into that night had been carefully baited by traps. He'd staged it all at a massive construction site, and had led him through a tall building, up onto the roof. He didn't get to see what had happened inside, but at some point Shizu-chan had definitely walked into a gas explosion.

And he'd apparently taken it like it was a nice warm shower instead of an explosion of flame?! His clothes weren't even badly burnt! How? Was that bartender uniform made of some special kind of fabric or something, or did this guy just have a permanent fucking forcefield all around him?! Like God cast a spell and gave him fucking plot armor or something! How unfair! Izaya hated that about him!

Izaya had been thinking to himself that it was a good thing that gas explosion had only been a false flag – one of many. Just a bunch of little traps that he'd always known would be nothing but a distraction to Shizu-chan.

And distract him was exactly what they were supposed to do, so he wouldn't notice all the carbon monoxide bleeding into the air all around him. Suffocating him, stealing the air right out from his lungs so he had to crawl to Izaya on his knees by the time he made it up to the roof!

Yes, what a fitting death for a monster that had suffocated his heart for too long!

Well, that had been the idea anyway, but Shizu-chan had still been on his feet when he finally joined him – barely even looking ruffled by the many traps Izaya had dropped on him on his way up.

Izaya had relocated himself to a safe distance above him, perched on some massive steel structure and gazing down at his enemy – heart stopping for a moment at the fact that not even a ridiculous amount of carbon monoxide had appeared to affect him!

'Izaaaayaaaaaa!' Shizu-chan had roared up at him.

Izaya had grinned down at him with a mean snicker that distracted him from his fear, thinking, Not so tranquil after all that now, are you, Shizu-chan?

But the moment of fear would have passed regardless, because it wasn't much later that Shizu-chan inevitably dropped to his knees for him – finally taking strain from the special gas he'd made that was being aggressively pumped onto the roof all around him.

Finally…

Izaya had looked up at the sky in vague satisfaction, 'Ah, what a view. There's nothing better than the vast nightscape beneath a starless sky. Because it's the product of human action, after all.'

He'd turned to look down at Shizu-chan, shoving his hands into his pockets. He'd smirked down and cooed at him, 'Shizu-chan, you do know how much I've yearned to kill you, don't you? I've wracked my brain. To figure out how I could subject you to a fitting death.' He'd tossed his head to the side, closing his eyes and finished with a casual smile, 'And my conclusion was suffocation.'

Shizu-chan had begun to crawl towards him, grunting a little. He'd blinked down at him, carrying on with his explanation, 'There was no other option, since guns and blades don't work on you. So, I've tampered with the sprinkler system, see. Inundated the place with carbon dioxide and diluted the oxygen.'

He'd thrown his arms wide with pride, 'The fire, the crane…those were all traps!' He'd smiled sweetly down at him with his eyes closed, 'But you still didn't die, did you Shizu-chan?' He'd clapped his hands together – just as he'd been doing the very first time he triggered Shizu-chan's hatred almost a decade earlier – and praised sarcastically, 'That's my boy!'

Then he'd frowned down at Shizu-chan pensively, watching as he continued to struggle – he just refused to ever stay down! He had finally spotted the rigged explosives and seemed to have gotten it into his head that he could do something about it if he crawled towards them very, very stubbornly! And with his track record, he just might fucking be able to if he didn't get this over with.

He'd felt it then – that cold, empty, hopeless feeling. The one he'd always imagined he'd have if he tried to murder someone.

It was just…such a very sad thing to do.

Even to a monster like Shizu-chan…

But it wasn't like he had a choice.

It needed to be done.

Even if killed both of them.

I don't really care if I die. But this monster can't be allowed to survive.

Izaya had nodded with a little smile, reminded himself of that fact one last time. 'Yes, that's right,' he'd said as he dug into his pockets for a box of matches. He'd struck one of them and raised the flame, wearing a smirk that didn't feel real on his face, 'Whether I have a reason to or not, I should still kill you.'

Because, Shizu-chan isn't human, he's some sort of monster. He's the only one I don't love. The only one I could never love. He should just die already.

Just once – just this one time, he had told himself – Izaya would allow himself to indulge, take off the kid-gloves and truly play God with someone else's life – to smite down his mortal foe in an act of righteous damnation. It wasn't really murder, anyway.

That's not what they called it, when a dangerous wild animal was slain.

It was something else. Something good, something just.

It was a public service.

Just die for me, Shizu-chan.

He wasn't doing this for himself, but for all his precious humans. They would be better off without him. They weren't safe with him around. Nobody was. Shizu-chan could turn on any one, or all of them with hatred one day – just like he'd done to Izaya before knowing a single thing about him. Only most other people would have a way harder time dodging his murderous fists and the public property he turned into projectiles. Izaya might not be supernatural, but he was freakishly skilled at parkour and blade wielding. What about all the helpless humans who weren't?

Maybe Izaya had immediately come across as a smug prick – he'd own that. He wore that vibe with the same pride he wore his hooded, fur-lined coats. Nobody really enjoyed that about him, maybe not even Shinra - but none of them had ever attacked him on sight just for the way he smiled. Only Shizu-chan thought that was an appropriate response to a shit-eating grin.

There were a lot of smug pricks with mean smiles in the world, and Shizu-chan wasn't going to get the chance to inflict grievous bodily harm or death on any of them, not if Izaya had any say about it.

Shizu-chan had even been introduced to him by a person he loved – he assumed, didn't everybody love Shinra? – and yet he had still taken one sniff at Izaya and rejected him entirely. As if he'd looked into his very soul just by staring into his eyes for one second, and what he'd found there had disgusted him. Even if he had turned out to be exactly on point in his assessment of his character, what gave him the right to act on his instincts so confidently like that? Even if he thought he knew what Izaya was up to, and turned out to be right most of the time…

Sometimes, Izaya used to consider what his fate would become if anyone ever seriously decided to hurt Shizu-chan's little brother Kasuka, and Shizu-chan decided to blame it on him. Even before his PTSD, that thought had always horrified him. It used to keep him up at night sometimes, until he stalked Kasuka's social media, reassuring himself that, 'oh good, he's still alive, expressionless and boring as ever!'

Kasuka was a wildly successful movie star, what if some random stalker fan of his had actually kidnapped and disappeared him one day? There could be loads of people out there who'd want to hurt a good-looking famous person like Kasuka. Hell, there were loads of violent criminals around with grudges against Shizu-chan. Any one of them could decide to go after Kasuka in revenge of Shizu-chan, at any time! Even bigger hell, someone who understood the situation accurately could try to do it to get revenge on Izaya – to sick Shizu-chan on him like a homing missile!

And then Izaya would be hopelessly fucked beyond salvation.

Sometimes thinking about that possibility had made him feel like his entire life was on a ticking timer, waiting for the inevitable bomb of Shizu-chan having a famous little brother he was hyper-irrationally overprotective of to go off and end him.

Shizu-chan had a tendency to hurt people just for innocently bringing up his little brother's name.

Izaya had always suspected that if anything seriously bad happened to Kasuka, he would become an instant dead man. And he wouldn't even be aware of it at the time it happened! And he'd only be the first victim in his rampage, what would happen to everyone else when Shizu-chan couldn't take it all out on him anymore, and he was dealing with his grief over his brother?

He'd become like a one-man domestic terrorist organization and destroy the whole of his beloved Ikkebukuro!

But first, Shizu-chan would hunt Izaya to the ends of the earth to destroy him, and there would never be anything he could ever do or say to convince him it wasn't all his fault.

What gave Shizu-chan the right to rely on guesswork and gut feelings before deciding to hunt him down at his apartment and make him pay for things he only suspected he was involved in? The fact that he was usually right meant nothing when he had literally no evidence – all he had were his freakishly keen animal instincts and a tendency to blame everything that ever went wrong in the world on Izaya by default. Shizu-chan wasn't even particularly smart, but he figured if he just assumed ninety-nine percent of the time some bad shit happened, it was Izaya's fault, he'd never get it wrong.

Izaya had once asked him if he could ever bring himself to believe in that one percent chance, he was innocent…

Shizu-chan had laughed in his face.

It was fine, Izaya had been laughing a little on the inside at the idea too – because he had indeed been up to some wild shit at the time! He really had sicked that little Yakuza girl with the insanely overpowered, life-threatening taser on him…hoping Shizu-chan would be upset enough to give her the fright of her life and make her start crying and screaming…so he could hate himself for being such a monster to children or something…Izaya didn't even really remember anymore why he had felt motivated to do that.

But, one of these days, Shizu-chan's belief that he always knew what was going on at a sheer gut level was going to start getting people killed – inevitably starting with him.

So, he'd put a stop to it all before it could ever get that far.

He was doing the whole town a favor, sacrificing what was left of his soul to put down the monster terrorizing the helpless villagers – because he knew he was the only one strong enough to get the job done.

Wasn't he magnanimous?

Wasn't he a hero?

No, Izaya was none of the above, he knew that now. He had finally achieved self-awareness.

He was devastatingly fragile, about as far from magnanimous as a person could get, and it turned out – to nobody's surprise but his own – he was the villain.

It wasn't this realization that broke him. He'd always known, on some level, that humanity would never truly accept him, and Izaya had long grown used to being reviled. Sometimes, he even found it quite comforting – being hated was soothing to him, like that feeling you get when you knew you were home.

He'd rather be hated than be boring

He'd rather be hated than be nothing.

It was his Shizuo-complex again, which had finally evolved into its final form. That's what took him down, once and for all…

Sitting slumped in his wheelchair, Izaya laughed from under his fingers, his head still buried in his hand. It sounded more like a sob, not that it was or anything. His eyes were burning with tears, but he wasn't exactly crying.

Izaya had never really been capable of crying for himself. Couldn't remember when he had last cried from sadness, or if he ever had at all. Probably at some point, right? He felt like he could probably do it now if he pushed for it, but why the hell would he ever do that?

He crossed his legs again instead, hissing at the pain like it had been the relieving drag of a cigarette instead of a flood of agony.

He was remembering how he'd thrown the lit match – flicked it casually through the air to fall towards Shizu-chan's prone body.

Remembering that moment when he'd realized he couldn't take it back anymore – it was over. Shizu-chan was going to die. The match would fall, ignite the gas and all the explosives, and incinerate Shizu-chan once and for all. Their near decade long feud, everything they'd been through at the hands of the other, finally settled for good.

Feeling cold, empty, devastatingly sad – but satisfied with his decision nonetheless. Being blown away right into the air a moment later from the force of the explosion – a bright burst of beautiful swirling fire. Managing to land on his feet somehow, because he had still possessed crazy dexterity and balance at the time. Fortunately finding himself perched much higher up. Ducking behind a steel pillar and pressing his back against it as the explosion still raged, blowing his hood right over his head with the force of the blast. Clutching the steel frame he clung to at his back with his fingers, a dark smirk on his face, waiting for the blast to settle down to see the results of his good work – which he had skillfully survived.

And then Celty did the thing and really saved all their asses…

The fiery explosion had calmed down suddenly behind him – faster and more abruptly than it should have. There was a sound in the air. Some sort of echoing wail of a noise he had never heard before. Izaya had turned to look. The towering flames had been wrapped in shadows, like a cocoon. Smothering them.

Izaya had scowled, surprised as to why Celty would intervene when she'd been reunited with her head just earlier that night and apparently couldn't remember who any of them were anymore!

Earlier that night, that Saika-wielding Kujiragi woman had captured Celty and forcefully reunited her with her head – which she had stolen from Izaya, basically hoping to get her to fuck off back to hell so she could have Shinra to herself. Celty had descended from the sky, on a staircase made of shadows, walking right past the skyscraper Izaya had been perched on. He had been watching the chaos going on all around town - a culmination of gang wars and supernatural incidents and multiple interest groups he'd maneuvered against each other, coming together into a big final explosion of chaos all over Ikkebukuro! And all to show off to Celty what he was capable of.

And also, because he really enjoyed that kinda stuff. Talk about a power-trip!

Her headless body had been wearing full-plate mail armor made of shadows, with a giant scythe over her shoulders. She'd been clutching her beautiful strawberry-blond head under her arm like a football.

The head's creepy green eyes had stared around and then looked at him. Izaya, standing there with his hands casually in his pockets, had smiled and greeted her in familiarity. 'Yo, Celty! How does it feel to have your head back?'

She had stopped, the head in her arms staring at him with a blank and unimpressed look – rather like the one he'd always imagined she'd wear when she finally looked at him. 'Who are you?' she'd asked in a bored tone.

Izaya had thrown his hands up and shrugged, closing his eyes with a smile. 'I see. So, you're not the Celty I know anymore!' The head had stared at him blankly through half closed eyes. What a freaky fucking creature! He'd placed his hands back into his pockets and explained, as if he wasn't talking to an otherworldly-being he'd always wished he could impress with how good he was at his hobbies, 'The thing is, I don't have time to fool around with you right now.' He'd raised a hand, tilted his head back with a snotty little smile on his face and said, 'If you don't know who I am, then get out of here.'

He had dismissed her like she couldn't probably decapitate him from ten feet away with that big-ass scythe of hers. He had already moved on to his final plans for Shizu-chan – apparently, the whole Celty thing had been a bust.

'Forget you ever saw me, human,' she'd told him emotionlessly as she carried on walking down her shadow-made stairs, on her way down to the streets below.

Izaya had watched her go with a little, hmph. Then he'd shrugged, smiled and closed his eyes, dissing her on her way out, 'Now that's beyond comical. How stupid can you get?'

She'd ignored him and moved on, probably so she could go ahead and abandon Shinra forever – breaking his heart into a million billion pieces unless he found a way to pull something drastic and stop her! Although he had no idea how Shinra would pull that off when he was probably still stuck at home covered in plaster from that sadist that tortured him. Maybe Izaya would have a little more sympathy with his predicament if he hadn't fucking snubbed him like a total asshole! He was routing for them, but also, forget those guys. He had bigger fish to fry.

So, with that in mind, Izaya had been really confused about why Celty had decided to interfere in his battle with Shizu-chan.

He'd wondered aloud, 'She didn't seem to remember anything. So, what's her plan? That monster?'

He'd grabbed the pillar he stood behind and peeked out from behind it to stare below him as the shadows evaporated into the air. As if they'd come right out of the night sky to smother the explosion around Shizu-chan. To keep him safe.

To keep him alive!

Izaya had searched the roof below him desperately. Trying to spot what he was seriously hoping would be a very charred and crispy Shizu-chan, at that point. He'd tossed the hood off his head, wondering aloud as his eyes darted around, 'Where's he gone?'

Then he'd spotted Shizu-chan's trademark sunglasses, abandoned on the roof below him – a hole in the concrete roof where Shizu-chan's dead body was supposed to be! As if he'd punched right through the floor beneath him to escape! Izaya had pulled his head back in incredulous disbelief, saying, 'That monster…' with a scowl. Like he wasn't shit-scared all of the sudden, he was just judging him fiercely.

And then it had come.

The beginning of the final lesson Shizu-chan had to teach him.

The massive, towering steel frame on which Izaya had stood had begun to shake back and forth violently. The steel screamed, nuts and bolts popping out in places. Like the giant steel frame was no more than a skinny little tree being shaken down by a bear who really wanted the annoying squirrel perched on top of it. It would have probably tossed Izaya right off immediately, if his reflexes and ability to reclaim his balance weren't so damn good back them. He'd clung to the steel pillar beside him, hanging on for his life as he was flung back and forth through the air, and looked down in horror.

There had stood Shizu-chan, at the base of the big-ass column Izaya clung to in desperation - with his fingers digging into the steel. Clutching the sides of it as his blond head pressed up against it, nudging it aggressively. Growling, wearing a teeth-baring snarl. Like he really was a giant raging bear after a sneaky little squirrel. A man powerful enough to take down a whole construction site with his bare hands – to break things apart like it was his only purpose in life.

Izaya hadn't had much time to comprehend the total fucking ridiculousness of what was happening, hadn't even had much time to be scared. He'd been in shock at how quickly everything had just gone to hell – couldn't believe the mad shit that Shizu-chan was pulling to get to him this time! What sort of monster was this?! How could the world have given birth to this?! Appreciating, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he was probably about to die, but being unable to truly process it. He'd almost been in too much awe over Shizu-chan's sheer monstrous strength to even think about what was most certainly coming for him next.

Then the steel frame he was standing on broke apart from under his feet, in a final explosion of nuts and bolts and screaming metal. He'd fallen straight into the air, knowing that even if he managed to land on his feet like a cat, he'd probably break both his legs. He'd almost just given in and let himself fall. He'd turned his head midair to look down at Shizu-chan with fear in his eyes for the first time.

And that motherfucker was picking up a twenty-foot bender in his arms – probably so he could bat Izaya away into the air like a fucking baseball! Instead of a human being he'd known for almost half his life! That thought had actually horrified, disgusted and offended him so much, he'd become mobilized through sheer spite! He'd twisted into the air, aiming his legs at Shizu-chan, who predictably swung at Izaya with the bender, roaring his fury.

That was the moment that fucked his legs up for life.

He just hadn't been aware of it at the time. He'd been so high on adrenaline and chemicals, and maybe a little bit of his own special fucking plot armor if he was being honest, to realize what had just been done to them.

He took the impact of the bender on his feet, in some insane attempt to bounce off it like it was just a trampoline instead of a giant-ass piece of metal being swung at him by a raging beast of destruction. He'd been thrown backwards into the air with a cry of pain he couldn't hold back, flying straight through the high window of a building some distance away.

He'd crashed straight through the glass into somebody's office. He'd bounced violently off the tiled floor, tossed ass over heels before coming to a stop on his stomach. He'd laid sprawled atop broken glass and bits of metal and plaster, in between some computer lined tables and wheely-chairs.

By the time he'd raised his head with a gasp, curling his fingers, shocked and in more pain than he'd ever felt before – he literally couldn't remember what had just happened to him. His mind had been a total blank. He was wondering why he was about to meet his end for some random reason. Surely whatever just happened to him had killed him? Who was responsible for this!

Then he'd coughed some blood up onto the floor and calmed down, before rolling over onto his back. Izaya's expression had been totally blank as he had stared at the boring, ugly ceiling of some random-ass office building, and muttered in surprise, 'So I'm alive, huh? What just happened?' The overhead lights had blurred in and out of his vision. 'If I recall…'

And then he'd had the flash of Shizu-chan, picking up the bender and remembered what the fuck was going on. 'That's right. That guy clobbered me like a baseball.' He hadn't even had the energy to scowl as he continued, 'That damned monster!'

Then he'd glanced around the room. He'd lifted his head up slightly off the ground, peering over his own chest at the glass window he'd just smashed through. He could see the giant, red crane he'd used to drop that other crane onto Shizu-chan. He'd spotted Shizu-chan standing atop a tall pillar, staring down in Izaya's direction. Just like Izaya had been doing to him earlier when Shizu-chan had been the one helpless and defenseless. Shizu-chan must be aware of the damage that he'd done to Izaya already, but it's not like he would just leave him be and walk away at this point…everything had gone way too far for that.

He's going to come finish me off.

He'd been staring over his own chest with a sort of dumb look on his bloodied face, processing that thought rather calmly.

And then he saw Shizu-chan shoot like fifty feet into the air and disappear from sight like some sort of fucking superhero! And he called Izaya the flea? Who jumps like that! He'd heard a crash of broken glass from somewhere far above him – apparently, that jump had been pretty well aimed. Shizu-chan was in the building with him now.

Izaya had dropped his head with a tiny, exhausted smile on his face and sighed wistfully aloud to himself, 'I wish he'd fallen…'

He'd smirked briefly at the thought, before snapping himself out of it.

No, he'd reminded himself sternly. Why should I hope for him to self-destruct?

He'd forced himself to sit up, somehow able to ignore the screaming agony in his legs. Adrenaline really was a hell of a thing. He'd forced himself to stagger to his feet, thinking, That's right. I came here to destroy the monster.

'Not to run away from him,' he'd finished aloud, clutching what he was pretty sure were a few cracked ribs on his side.

He could hear the sound of Shizuo making his way down to him, as if he was jumping down entire flights of stairs instead of running down them. Making little impact-sounds above him that sent his heart racing and his blood rushing. Some potent mix of chemicals and primal instinct inside him chased all the pain away – convinced him his legs weren't broken.

Izaya had begun to limp speedily away, making his way down several flights of stairs, out the building onto the street. He'd planned to lure Shizu-chan out into a crowd. However this all ended, it wasn't going to go down in some shitty little office building where no one would ever get to see it! Where no one would know that Shizu-chan had finally come to put him down like a dog!

If Izaya slayed the monster, the people would get to see him do it for them. And if Shizu-chan killed him…

Then they'd all finally see him for what he truly was.

Shizu-chan was a protozoan, so he'd spent some time running around crashing into stuff looking for him. But Izaya had known that it was only a matter of time before he followed the trail of blood and figured out his prey had escaped.

He had limped speedily through the streets of Ikkebukuro, clutching his side with one arm, when he ran into Shinra's father lurking around in his white lab coat, wearing that stupid gasmask over his face like always. He'd turned his grimace of pain into a stubborn smirk for Shingen's benefit as he approached. Shingen had turned to look at Izaya, greeting him cheerfully, 'Well, if it isn't Orihara-kun! Where are you going in such a rush?'

Like he hadn't noticed Izaya was totally fucked for the first time in his life for some reason – seriously, Shinra had almost never had a chance of being normal. Izaya had ignored him as he moved past, determinedly limping his way towards a more populated area.

Shingen had made a confused little hum and Izaya had heard him commenting innocently to his bodyguard standing next to him, 'What do you make of that, Egor-kun? Being ignored by a younger person is more devastating than I imagined.'

That whole family was so fucking clueless!

He'd thought, half aggravated, half comforted by the consistency of their eccentricity. It had almost made him feel like maybe none of this was such a big deal after all. It was just your average night, with Shingen being a socially retarded and ridiculous person, just like he always was.

Humans really were a great source of comfort to Izaya, at times. Shingen's nonsense response to the sight of Izaya, bloodied and limping, had actually made him feel as if maybe he weren't bloodied and limping at all! Maybe he did have the strength to leap confidently over the big pile of benders he'd just dropped onto Shizu-chan earlier, as if everything was fine and the bones in his legs hadn't been splintered and broken in some way!

Izaya had proceeded to do so with nothing but a little exhale and barely a whimper of pain, listening to the two men behind him as he limped towards the end of the street.

'Don't tell me you've never been ignored before?' had asked Egor, sounding genuinely surprised.

Shingen had responded in wild, goofy offense, 'Why do you say that as if it's a given I've been ignored? Not only that, he's one of my son's few friends, and a man once apprehended by the police for stabbing Shinra! You'd think he'd show me more…'

Izaya had laughed a bit hysterically in his mind as Shingen's voice trailed off behind him. He'd show Shingen respect when he took off the gasmask, and stopped acting like an idiot so he could try to convince people he wasn't totally batshit insane and a tiny bit sadistic. He wore those mad-scientist vibes in an even dumber way than Shinra! How was he supposed to take him seriously? The man had literally once held his secretary hostage with a toy gun that shot sparklers because he wanted Celty's head back! And that's the same guy that surprise attacked Celty twenty years ago, detached her head with a demon sword named Saika, and then tricked her into living with them like some sort of harmless pet – all the while experimenting on her naked, headless body with a miniature version of his good friend Shinra?! Hahahahaha! He was a genuinely ominous person, but every single thing he did was just so fucking silly!

Humans are amazing! He'd cried in his mind, his heart filling with love for all of them. He could do this – he had this! For them! They were his special, favorite creatures! Nothing could stop him if it was for them!

Izaya now realized that this was the thought process of a man losing his mind.

Then he'd heard Shingen bitch in indignation behind him, 'Wha-? Are you ignoring me too, Egor-kun? I'm paying you and – '

Izaya's heart had begun to race so fast in his chest at the sounds that followed from behind him, he could actually feel it physically throbbing in his temples, like the skin on his face was jumping.

Shingen had cried out as there was the rustling of clothes and the sound of some sort of impact – like he had just been pushed into the wall. 'What do you think you're doing?' Shingen had exclaimed, sounding confused.

His bodyguard had responded, 'Forgive me. However - '

And then another sound cut him off. There had been a whistling of air followed by a much heavier impact sound on the concrete behind him. He knew immediately what had just happened – Shizu-chan had figured out he'd left the building and had just decided to jump right out of it after him, from who knew what height?! And from the sounds of things, he might have just landed on top of Shingen and smashed him right into the concrete, if Egor hadn't pushed him out the way! How dare he!

Just because he wants to slice you to pieces and do experiments on you to figure out what you are, doesn't mean you get to just kill him Shizu-chan! You ate at that man's table growing up! Show some fucking respect! Hahahahahaha!

He'd almost been tripping on how hysterically hypocritical his own thoughts were, like some part of him had lost the plot completely and was just coming up with random nonsense to cope with all this.

So he could laugh in his head instead of scream in terror.

Izaya had hurried around the corner, picking up speed in desperation. He'd heard a loud crash behind him – as if Shizu-chan had ran straight through the pile of benders Izaya had just hopped over.

His adrenaline had increased even more somehow, as their final chase began. How many times had Izaya run through the streets of Ikkebukuro, parkouring away from Shizu-chan like the annoying little flea he'd been nicknamed for? He'd been doing it for so many years, it was as if the power of his own muscle memory overtook him completely. He was running at almost his usual speed as if he'd placed his body on auto-pilot and demanded that it do what it had always done, no matter how broken it was.

And his body had listened.

Wasn't that how Shizu-chan had become the way he was? By breaking every single bone in his body over and over again in his childhood, whenever he flew into a mindless rage and lifted something way heavier than a human body was supposed to? Hadn't he evolved gradually over time, becoming stronger and stronger every time he broke? Until the man who couldn't lift a fridge without breaking his spine when he was a child, could years later catch a whole fucking crane on his back and shove it off with a shrug?

A wild grin had begun to form on his wincing, bloodied face. As he'd begun to delude himself into thinking maybe he really was just as special as Shizu-chan. Maybe he was just a little bit indestructible too!

He had heard the whistling in the air behind him them – a sound he'd grown so familiar with over the years, he knew exactly what was coming. He'd twisted to look behind him while simultaneously springing into the air in a powerful and impressive jump. He'd managed to dodge the vending machine that would have crushed him like an insect under a boot, just in time.

Like Shizu-chan's perfect, infuriating little flea.

The same as he always had been.

Hah! I can still dodge him! I'm not broken!

He'd gotten even faster after that, picking up speed and agility as if the strength of his own delusion had given him a spontaneous new power up. He was faster and springier than ever! He had barely even noticed the pain he was power-tripping so hard on himself right then!

He'd heard Shizu-chan kick the vending machine out of his way behind him as he carried on his chase. Izaya had begun to guide him, skillfully, through the streets, dodging all the random life-threatening missiles Shizu-chan threw at him along the way.

When they had made it into the populated areas, Izaya began parkouring over cars, jumping further distances than he ever had before. The citizens of Ikkebukuro had cried out in confusion and anger as he landed on top of their vehicles before springing off again. Their chase ran right into a motorcycle gang at one point – had he been responsible for that? Had he incited a motorcycle gang for tonight? He couldn't remember! He'd just done too much stuff lately! And his head was kind of foggy, but in a good way!

Izaya knew exactly where he was going to take this fight!

Izaya had been involved in causing an awful lot of chaos in Ikkebukuro that night, not just with Shizu-chan. Everybody was up to some mad shit! Gang wars, Yakuza, mindless zombies controlled by a supernatural sword and fucking crazy teenagers in their mad quests for power. Izaya had pulled them all together. The true glory of Ikkebukuro! His favorite place in the world on account of how incredibly, irrationally, almost impossibly batshit crazy it all was under the surface! Almost every single person living there was hiding some kind of juicy secret. Shizu-chan would have to kill him to get him to ever stay away! Ikkebukuro was quite literally a magical place filled with rampant criminal elements, budding supervillains and supernatural entities. And he had the power to make the whole damn town come out to play!

Still, even he was pleasantly surprised by the crowd when he'd made it to the streets in front of Russia Sushi.

There they all were. Two gangs in disarray and a shit load of people with red eyes and a dumb look on their face.

It had looked like a hoard of Saika zombies was tryna break into Russhia Sushi – he couldn't decide if it was a good thing or not that he had outgrown tampering with Simon's weaponry years ago. On the one hand, he really did love that restaurant and hoped it survived the assault. Which had nothing to do with Simon's weird sushi and everything to do with the fact that it was run by former Special Soviet Forces operatives, so he finally had interesting people he could speak to in Russian. On the other hand, those poor Saika zombies would never survive all the awesome artillery stashed in there!

Izaya did not like Saika – humans were his precious playthings, not 'hers'. Even if he did appreciate that she loved Shizu-chan so much she almost got the whole of Ikkebukuro to try to stab him one time. What if she started getting crushes on regular humans? Her mind control powers took all the fun right out of them. That demon sword would be the next thing to go if he survived, and he'd give whoever was using her to assault Russia Sushi a good spanking!

As Izaya ran right into the crowd and came to a stop, some guy who was looking pretty bloodied up himself had demanded, 'Who are you?'

Izaya, not really giving a shit about whoever this guy was, had straightened up with a smile, saying, 'It's a bigger crowd than I'd expected.' He'd glanced around, 'Half of them are Saika zombies, huh?' Then he'd smiled at the guy in front of him as if he'd have any idea what he was talking about. If he didn't know who Izaya was, he was probably very, very confused about what the hell was going on in Ikkebukuro right now. Those who knew, knew. 'Oh, well. This is perfect.'

Someone in the crowd had finally recognized him, and he'd heard a hateful outcry of his name.

Oh, how he loved that sound! The sound of home!

'Orihara Izaya!'

But once he'd realized who it was, the smile froze on his face and he grew still.

It was that little shit Aoba, the one who thought he was some sort of better new version of Izaya himself. That nasty little teenager that was just a bit too much like Izaya for them to enjoy each other. If it wasn't for the fact that that brat hung out with his teenage sisters – on account of having a crush on both of them, gross! – Izaya would have put him in his place a long time ago! They'd probably done that fucking thing where they made out with each other in front of guys to try to hypnotize them or something! His sisters were the evil little bundles of corruption and carnage that he had made them into, but he was not responsible for their twincest issues! No matter what they told people, that fetish was all on them! His ability to corrupt people only went so fucking far, alright? He might have destroyed their ability to distinguish between themselves as human beings, forcing them to adopt totally different personalities – but what did that have to do with feeling each other up all the time?

Or maybe they'd just put on a really good show of dexterity, flexibility, combat prowess and sadism – now that he would take some credit for! Whatever the reason, Aoba's dedication to them was the only thing that stopped him from wishing he'd become collateral damage the moment he saw him! Maybe he'd become a witness to Izaya's death and report it to his sisters, expecting the opportunity for them to cry on his shoulders for a little bit! Hah! They'd probably send Shizu-chan some flowers! Mairu and Kururi fucking adored Shizu-chan! They literally followed him everywhere, pestering him for his famous brother's autograph, until he had to lock them away in a closet somewhere so they'd leave him alone!

They might have been briefly charmed by Izaya again earlier in the year when they found out he had asked Celty to guard them one time. Oh, how devastatingly surprised Celty had been that he might give a single damn about his family! And he'd thought her contempt for him had been judgey – it had nothing on her astonished approval. Celty had happily done as he asked, never realizing that it was all just a distraction so she wouldn't look too hard at the laptop he'd given her to hold on to!

Mairu and Kururi had tracked him down in the streets after they found out he'd sent Celty to guard them, and for once, it wasn't to try and launch a flying kick at the back of his head. They had danced around him, clinging to his arms like they used to when they were little, very pleased that he had apparently protected them – and he wasn't even sure if he had done it for them at all! Wasn't sure if his concern for them had only appeared in his mind after Celty pointed out it was nice he actually cared about his family, or if he had actually given a shit at some deep subconscious level and had decided to hit two birds with one stone in the most callous and dispassionate way possible!

It had occurred to him after the fact that it was good Celty was keeping an eye on them, since they had apparently hooked up with a miniature wanna-be Izaya like that wasn't guaranteed to blow up in their face? That Aoba kid was tryna stick his finger into every dirty little pie in town – Izaya would have imagined he'd taught them what happened to people who did that. Given them a firsthand lesson into how criminal activity can grow wildly outta control on your ass, real fast, and people could get traumatized or killed! But no, because girls always love a bad boy, even if he's trying to do his best impression of their older brother who they despise!

Izaya had never known how he felt about his sisters, those tiny creatures he'd been forced to look after when they were all three at far too young an age. They never should have been put into his care; his parents never should have left him in charge of them! They had loved him at some point, and he had twisted it all out of them and he wasn't even sure if he cared that he had done that! They were strong, and fierce, and dangerous – why should he regret what he'd unintentionally turned them into, even if it meant they hated him? His sisters were a fucking menace thanks to him, anyone who ever tried to fuck with them would find themselves having a very bad day at the hands of two overly enthusiastic little sadists with way too much spring in their step. Wasn't that enough?

No, he'd always known he'd screwed up with them, he just didn't know how to blame himself or feel bad for it. Because it hadn't been his fault – he'd been a kid too and his feelings were his feelings. He couldn't help what he was.

They were his sisters and while he possessed an overwhelming love for all humans, he possessed a really shitty amount of love for a brother to have towards his siblings. And the feeling had pretty much become mutual after a while.

Even if they thought he'd done something nice for them recently…for the first time since he'd been forced to feed and clean and look after them when they were sick…he could never hold their attention span like Shizu-chan. Not after everything he'd put them through, not after the ways he had fucked with their minds. They barely even cared enough about him to hate him anymore.

He'd been so busy staring at Aoba – remembering his little sisters' existence and the fact that they would be totally indifferent to however this all worked out, unless Izaya actually managed to kill their precious Shizu-chan by some miracle, in which case they'd probably come for his life themselves – that he didn't even flinch when a motorcycle dropped from the air, a hairs-width away from his body.

It crashed and broke apart a little, some of the debris landing on his shoes while Izaya remained perfectly still.

Just get this over with, Izaya.

Then he'd turned to look over his shoulder with a grin and a snicker. There came Shizu-chan, stalking through the parting crowd towards him, dragging another vending machine along the road behind him.

The crowd had begun to murmur around him, growing unsettled at the sight. Everyone who'd recognized them and wasn't a mind-controlled zombie suddenly realized what was about to happen.

Good! Witness the monster in your midst, humans!

It was the first time he'd had the chance to look at Shizu-chan properly, since he'd last been crawling on his knees for Izaya. The night was much brighter in front of Russia Sushi, filled with light from the streetlamps and buildings all around them. He could see Shizu-chan's bartender uniform had actually taken some damage for once! One of his arms looked dislocated, dangling unused at his side. He was covered in little scratches and dust, and scowling slightly at Izaya as he approached in silent determination.

At a glance, Izaya and Shizuo had seemed to be in similar states of injury and disarray.

They really, really, really weren't.

Shizuo would make a perfect recovery within days.

Izaya's legs were already ruined.

Izaya was already destined for a wheelchair.

He just hadn't known it yet – because that's how stubborn and delusional Izaya was when he was throwing a suicidal temper tantrum. At least he could comfort himself later that he truly was creative, that he truly had put love into his death. That he had never misunderstood what it meant for a second to stop existing. That there had never been anything shallow about the whole thing.

It barely soothed the sting of his ultimate discovered hypocrisy.

Izaya had dug into his coat and pulled out his knife – a bigger switchblade than the ones he usually preferred. He'd had a funny little feeling it might all turn out like this, and he'd figured why not upgrade for the inevitable fists to knife combat? He'd smirked at Shizu-chan in eager anticipation, saying, 'Now then. Shall we begin?'

Then some random guy in the crowd had the insane idea to go after Shizu-chan with a baseball bat – while the man was dragging a vending machine, focused on other prey. Were his humans fucking retarded? Shizu-chan had kicked him casually away – punted him straight into the air and sent him headfirst into a massive advertisement in a little explosion of plaster. He'd hung there, his ass sticking out of the sign board, limp and unmoving.

That was potential brain damage you just witnessed! Are you all seeing this?

Izaya had snickered in satisfaction. Shizu-chan was going to show his true colors to Ikkebukuro once and for all!

Shizu-chan had watched him raise his knife. Just stared at him for a few seconds. Izaya hadn't been able to make out the look on his face – it hadn't been nearly as twisted with rage as Izaya had been expecting. He certainly didn't look amused, but he also looked…tired, for once.

Like he was just as over all this as Izaya was, but they still had their respective roles to play.

He'd raised his arm up with a roar – less furious than he usually was, it was more a roar of exertion than anything. The vending machine had raised into the air, his fingers digging into the mettle and bending it under his grip.

Then he'd swung it down at Izaya, like a big club.

Izaya had jumped away, and the vending machine crashed down into the road, breaking the concrete. Then Shizu-chan had come at him with his fist – just one, on account of his dislocated arm. Izaya had dodged desperately around a flurry of blows, lashing out to successfully gash Shizu-chan several times over the stomach. Staining his bartender uniform with blood, from the deepest slashes he'd ever made on him.

Izaya had danced and dodged around Shizu-chan's fist, bending backwards and sideways before jumping backwards to put some distance between them, stumbling a little bit.

Izaya had raised his head, hunched over slightly, to smirk viciously at Shizu-chan.

In the crowd, Aoba and that man who'd asked Izaya who he was, had begun to discuss what they thought of all this, as Izaya launched himself back into the fray with Shizuo.

'He got a death wish or something?'

Aoba, being the new generations Izaya, had understood exactly what he was witnessing and answered, 'He doesn't care if he dies. He wants to reduce Heiwajima Shizuo to a mere monster. No matter how much Heiwajima yearns to be a normal human, if people reject him, that'll be good enough for Izaya.'

'How do you know that?'

Aoba had smiled, nastily, 'Because we're two of a kind.

Shizuo and Izaya had danced wildly around each other, in a flurry of slashes, stabs and punches. Izaya miraculously the only one to do any damage for a while – covering Shizu-chan's arms with slashes whenever he could.

And then it happened – the moment of distraction that ended him.

A huge flashbang had gone off at Russia Sushi, and on account of his earlier concerns for both the Saika zombies, the restaurant and the former Soviet operatives inside it…Izaya had looked away for a second.

By the time he'd looked back, already gasping because he knew he'd made a mistake, Shizu-chan was already on him. He got Izaya with an uppercut to his face that literally sent him spinning in circles as he stumbled backwards, trying to reclaim his footing and not black out.

By the time he'd come to a stop, Shizu-chan's fist was flying straight towards him again as he roared.

Izaya had known that if that punch hit him, he would die, but he didn't have the ability to dodge it anymore.

So, he had raised his arms and crossed them in front of his face protectively.

The bones in his arms had shattered instantaneously, as he was sent sprawling over the street. He lay there on his stomach for a little while, internally screaming in overwhelming agony. He had just been reminded again how very fucking breakable he was – how very much not like Shizu-chan he was!

Izaya had lain there, feeling everybody's eyes on his prone form in that moment. A whole crowd of spectators, who were about to stand and watch Shizu-chan murder him…

It was the only thought that comforted him, the only thought that kept the terrifying fear of death at bay. He'd heard Shizu-chan stalking off somewhere with a growl, and he knew it was probably to fetch something heavy to smash him like a bug once and for all…

Izaya had pulled himself to his feet through sheer stubbornness. He was going to be on his feet when Shizu-chan ended him, if it was literally the last thing he did…

He'd staggered, coughing up more blood and peering blearily at Shizu-chan…who was indeed dragging the vending machine towards him.

Shizu-chan had stopped and just stood there for a while again, staring at him. Still with that merely unamused look, none of the hatred and disgust Izaya had always seen in his eyes…as if finally getting to put him in his place had calmed him down and he was considering how to proceed. Clutching the vending machine that he was going to kill him with in one hand.

What was he waiting for already?

He'd stared tiredly at Shizu-chan, wondering why everything had stopped for a moment. Then he'd begun laughing, dropping his head to his chest as more blood bubbling from his lips. When he lifted his head looked up at Shizu-chan again with a tired smirk, he'd taunted him, 'Just do it, monster.'

Only, he barely made it through the last word. Something hit him in his side and made him gasp in shocked pain. He knew that pain! He had just been stabbed again! Izaya had staggered sideways, before trying to turn himself around to see what had just happened to him.

There was a knife sticking out of the side of his lower back, and Vorona standing in front of the crowd of spectators watching them. Then she tossed whatever the fuck it was she'd just used to shoot a knife at him, and pulled out her gun instead.

No, you fucking bloodthirsty psychopath, not you! Go back to Russia already! You crazy bitch, this has nothing to do with you!

Izaya had turned his back to Shizu-chan, watching through narrowed eyes the assassin that was about to interfere and ruin everything.

'Vorona!' Shizu-chan had said in surprise, and maybe with a bit of strictness, as if he wasn't happy about this interference either.

Vorona had begun to circle them, with her gun trained on him as she began to explain, 'Shizuo-sempai, you're human. The need for you to become a beast is nil.' Izaya turned with her, keeping her in his sight.

The spectators standing behind Izaya began to scatter with yelps of fear. They really needn't have, there was no fucking chance in hell that Vorona would miss her shot.

Izaya had stared at her with cold eyes, waiting for her to shoot him in the face.

Shizu-chan had put down the vending machine and started lecturing, 'Don't do it, you idiot! What good will it do for you to become a killer?' He'd raised his hands towards her, as if very concerned about what she was about to do.

Izaya had almost burst out laughing at that, and probably would have if he hadn't been certain that giving in to hysteria would end with a bullet between his eyes.

'Please rest assured. I've always been a beast…who loves to kill.' Vorona had replied, almost sounding hesitant at the confession.

As if she almost wished she weren't.

Then Izaya had been unable to hold back his chuckles, but they were almost fond. He could forgive Vorona for this…after all; 'You're a human being. Just a run-of-the-mill human being,' he'd told her, gently – although she'd probably just assumed he was mocking he'd dropped to his knees and smiled, making his peace with dying at her hands instead.

Human nature was a fascinating and devastatingly dangerous thing, after all.

Izaya really did love his humans, all of them – even the annoying interfering ones like Vorona.

She couldn't help what she was, any more than he could.

And then Izaya was pretty sure Simon threw another flashbang straight at them, but he couldn't really be sure.

He thought he might have heard the familiar cry of, 'Hey!' in an almost cheerful greeting – very much like that last time he got sucker-punched across the street.

And then there'd been a massive bang in his ears, everything had gone white and Izaya knew no more.

He suspected what had happened was the following – Simon and Dennis had busted out of Russia Sushi, plowing straight through the Saika zombies. Then Simon must have spotted Shizuo, Izaya and his rebellious little Vorona all standing together and done what he usually did. He'd broken up the fight, before anybody could die, with a big happy smile on his face.

Izaya really did have a soft spot for Simon, even if he also kind of hated him for being able to read him so well.

Sometimes, Izaya wondered if he'd run right towards Russia Sushi, hoping Simon would save him from what he'd just done to himself.

If maybe he'd had at least some shred of self-preservation left. Some very deeply-buried, subconscious instinct to find a single person who might want to stop Shizu-chan from ending his life, and also have the guts to do just that.

But it also really had been the perfect place for Shizu-chan to kill him, so he just didn't know.

Izaya wasn't really sure what had happened. He wasn't sure if it had been Simon, or if it had just been another random outcome from all the chaos he had caused. Either option was totally plausible – if Simon had spotted them, he would certainly have tried to break things up and get Vorona back on her leash. But there had also been some crazy shit going on around him all night and it could have all just been a coincidence.

Then Manami-san, that girl he had once gone back on a suicide pact with, in a stunning and remarkable display of cruelty…had snuck out and pulled his broken body away in all the chaos, until Kine apparently spotted her trying to drag him into some random alley as he was driving by in his car. When Izaya had found that out, he had ruthlessly teased her that she had been planning to murder him just then and, 'Thank you Kine-san, for saving me! This one's a killer, you know!'

But he'd been able to tell that wasn't it. Manami-san…didn't hate him. Didn't want him to die. Didn't even want him to be hurt, for some mysterious reason. She had looked at him the same way Izaya looked at all his precious humans, no matter what they did to him – with understanding, and forgiveness and acceptance. She had returned none of his adoration, of course, she still never particularly enjoyed his company. But she'd left him to his fate with a look in her eyes like she had matured somehow, and had chosen to see the whole world differently. Not just Izaya, but the whole damn world. All that anger and spite in her had just…disappeared.

It still really bugged him that he had no idea what that was all about. If she'd only felt very sorry for him, because he was a very attractive man in a broken state who once told her he adored her – which would have been the reason he'd expect for a young woman to save his life, as Izaya knew women all too well – she wouldn't have fucked off and moved on so quickly. In fact, he was pretty sure she was a self-hating lesbian, though he had never been able to confirm it. Some people were buried so deep in their closets, they weren't even aware of it, which made it slightly harder for him to tell. But she'd definitely never had a crush on him. So, what the hell was it?

When he'd woken up in Kine's car, all Izaya had wanted was to run as far away from Ikkebukuro as possible. He had stewed, resentfully in his fear, hating Shizu-chan for finally being able to get across the message he'd been screaming at him all these years. 'Stay out of Ikkebukuro!'

The message that had forced him to relocate after High School to the next town over, in Shinjuku, only paying visits to Ikkebukuro to troll around Russia Sushi and get up to random mischief until he provoked Shizu-chan enough to chase him away again.

The message he had always refused to listen to, and had always thought he never would.

For the first few months after the fight, during the worst of his recovery, he had found himself never wanting to go back there ever again. He'd had constant nightmares, waking up in cold sweats and whimpering in pain from the overwhelming paranoia that Shizu-chan was still coming to finish him off, and he couldn't run away anymore.

Losing his mobility had been an adjustment in many ways. All that confidence he'd had around other humans had disappeared. He was no longer a predator, watching over prey animals. He was broken and lame, at the very bottom of the food chain now. The thought of anybody coming after him, not even just Shizu-chan, filled him with overwhelming fear. He'd no desire to ever try to kill anyone ever again and so he refused to buy a gun – if someone came after him and he shot at them, he could no longer guarantee with any certainty that he wouldn't hit something vital. He'd never liked guns anyway, they were boring – too powerful to be any fun. If Izaya had run around shooting people in their shoulders instead of occasionally throwing knives at them, he'd have felt like a real piece of shit…for some reason? Like when animal lovers wanted to hunt something, but needed it to be a fair fight somehow.

So Izaya was currently in a state of self-imposed helplessness, refusing to go through the long process of physical therapy that would get his legs to work again and refusing to buy a deadly weapon. Thus, he had destroyed all his hobbies – because fucking with people while he was in this state was asking to die. He couldn't play with humans anymore without hearing Shizu-chan's roar in his ear.

Izaya had…willingly declawed himself. He wasn't sure if it would be a permanent thing – he was pretty damn strong, in his own way, and he knew humans usually recovered from trauma with enough time…It had only been six months after all.

But the terrible thing was, in his declawed state, with nothing but his own thoughts and introspections about everything that had happened, he'd finally come to understand what had driven him to do what he'd done. And that understanding made him unsure if he should even want to ever recover. Izaya would never be able to be anything but what he was – the only way to stop him was to put him in his place in a way he couldn't bounce back from.

And as his penance to Shizu-chan for what he had tried to do to him…

Izaya wasn't sure if he wanted to go back to being himself.

He missed it, missed everything about it. Missed causing chaos and misery and psychological damage. Missed feeling like he existed in the world. Izaya didn't want to change, he didn't want to be better. He loved what he was, he thought he was amazing! It wasn't only other humans he adored, he had a deep fascination and love for his own twisted nature too. He was a shining example of everything chaotic and messy and dangerous and exciting that he loved about their incredible species!

But he knew now that he was the only one who would ever feel that way. And he had let his insecurities over that drive him to murder a human being.

A human being with some sort of incredible mutation, granted, but a human being nonetheless…One he had had in his life and played with for so many years, and Izaya had decided to take his life away.

Because he now knew he was insane.

He knew now that Shizuo didn't really want him to die – even after everything Izaya had tried to do to him, even after giving his best shot at killing him…The insane strength he had shown that day, had been like nothing he'd ever faced in their chases before. Shizu-chan had always been holding back. He could have hunted Izaya down and ended him at any time

Shizuo only wanted peace. He didn't want to become a murderer. All those times he'd screamed that he was going to kill him, he'd probably never even meant it.

And some part of Izaya had always known that.

He had always known that if Shizu-chan ever killed him, he would have never recovered from it.

Wasn't that why he was so self-destructively comfortable with the thought of dying at his hands? Because he knew, deep down, that it would fucking destroy Shizu-chan forever? That his death would leave a deep scar on that monster who was never really a monster's mind? That he could console himself with the prospect of some sort of afterlife he'd never actually get to experience himself, living rent-free in Shizu-chan's mind as a ghost – haunting him until the day he died of Izaya-induced lung cancer?

He realized now that the unamused look in Shizu-chan's eyes had been sadness. That he had been wondering why Izaya had decided to do this to himself. That he had been unable to understand why Izaya had pushed for this grand finale of violence and death.

How could he ever explain what he had done to Shizuo? Could he even explain it? Had he come far enough to put it into words?

Sitting in his wheelchair, alone in his apartment, Izaya began to imagine how he might try.

Yo, Shizu-chan. So, this is a little awkward, huh? Remember that time I tried really hard to kill you? Haha, good times, right? No, but seriously though, Shizu-chan…I'm sorry I did that. I never should have – I was wrong about you. You were never a monster; you were just a human that actually managed to scare me. To be fair, you did try to explode my face on sight! But I'm not here to complain about that…I understand why you did it. You must have seen the way I looked at you, right? Like you were something freakish and unnatural, and I was scorning you for it.

That was because watching you beat up all those guys in front of me that day blew my fucking mind! That clapping may have seemed sarcastic, but what other reaction could I give after a show like that? You might not know this about me, but I've never been scared of anyone in my life until I met you. I think I turned that fear into scorn, and the shitty thing about me is that when I scorn people…it kinda gives off a powerful vibe. So, I tried to play off that whole little scene like it was a hilarious show that Shinra had put on for my amusement, and I made you feel like a nasty little freak, didn't I? Because that's what I wanted you to be. I tried to reduce you immediately to something less than human, and you felt it. Because, for a total protozoan, you really are incredibly keen.

I didn't want you to be better than me. Right from the very moment I saw you, I was threatened by the way Shinra looked at you. Like you were something amazing and out of this world, something I could never ever be.

And that's why playing with you was so exhilarating! Getting to dance with you was like proving to the world that I really was something special! If I could tangle with a force of nature like you, and laugh in exhilaration while I did it, wouldn't that make me kind of superhuman myself? Sometimes, you really made me feel that way. Sometimes it was so freaking fun I'd get random cravings for the adrenaline, and come find you looking to pick a fight just for the awesome thrill of it! I think I actually got addicted to the powerful chemicals in my own brain that happened, when I fucked with you and got away with it unscathed.

And also…another thing you might not know about me, Shizu-chan. I think I'm really bad at dealing with rejection. Not usually – most of the time I don't even know how to feel rejected. But those times that I do, I really do hold one hell of a grudge about it! That's why I felt the burning need to ruin your life all the time, you know. Letting you have a moment of peace, letting you forget my existence and move on with your life, was never an option. Because I knew I would never be able to forget about you and how disgusted you'd been by me. If I couldn't have any peace, then neither could you! Sorry Shizu-chan, I'm kind of a dick that way! You probably also should have moved out of Ikkebukuro if you were really that serious about it, keeping me outta that place made me antsy as hell!

But you really did just want peace, didn't you? You're even more unlike me than Shinra! Can you imagine what we three could have accomplished if you'd just agreed to be little good boys and become my pawns already? Hahahaha! We could have sowed chaos and carnage through the whole world together!

You're nothing like me Shizu-chan. You hate yourself for what you are, and I made it worse. Self-hatred is one of my least favorite traits in humans, you know? Maybe I just wish I could relate. Isn't that how people get along after all? By hating the parts of themselves that hurt others?

Because while you fear yourself and try to isolate yourself from them...you're a morally upstanding citizen with a desire to live a peaceful life. And everybody knows it and loves you for it. You make connections with others effortlessly. People develop loyalty to you that is so fierce, they'd kill for you! Even when you're not even trying...even when you'd rather keep humans away from you to protect them from your capabilities...and we couldn't possibly be more different in that way.

I truly do love humans, and wish more than anything to connect with them...but my love for them is impure and they all know it. They see me as more of a threat to them than you'll ever be, and they're right to. I might not go around murdering them, but that never made me less of a monster myself...and it's really not like I gave a damn if they killed each other or themselves as a result of all my troublemaking...so long as I could always say I was never personally, physically responsible...

I'm a creature incapable of feeling remorse for anything I do to others, with an addiction to breaking people so I can see what they become. And just because I feel an overwhelming love in my heart for them as I do it, sometimes...just because I accept them no matter what, no matter what they turn into...no matter what they throw at me...no, Shizu-chan. I always knew they would never love me for it. Because I'm the real monster in their eyes...and I don't even know how to feel sad about it most of the time, because I'm too busy feeling powerful. Sometimes I get lonely, but that's about it.

I just don't know how to hate myself for it. How to do anything but revel in it...I think I might be a true psychopath Shizu-chan, just one that really, really doesn't want to be a murderer. And I'm not even sure if I was born this way and would have inevitably turned into what I am... or if I was just so afraid of ever having real feelings, I evolved into my psychopathy to protect my own heart...because watching Shinra almost die for me drove me insane somehow...isn't that weird? Sometimes I think Shinra is the only one I truly love in a way that is pure, and only the reason why I ever allowed myself to was because I always knew...he could never really love me back. He could only accept me, banter with me and scold me as if he did. It was supposed to be a risk-free sort of love where you go into it with your eyes wide open, and it still managed to feel like a slap in the face when he got tired of me! Humans really are fascinating Shizu-chan, and that definitely includes me!

I'm filled with overwhelming fondess for others at times, but I'm incapable of feeling any empathy for them. I can smile in the face of torture and behave like a very professional human being...but I'm impulsive like a child, and I make foolish, immature decisions all the time. Like a little boy in a man's body with way too much power...

So I chose to hate you instead, because I'm incapable of hating myself. When the whole town appeared to accept a monster like you, while rejecting a monster like me...well, you saw what it drove me to.

I really was convinced you'd kill me for real someday, but I think I was just tryna make myself believe that because it was more exciting than the real truth – you'd just never want me around. I could have made peace with you at any time, could have shot you a text saying 'Shinra's bitching is starting to bug me, so let's call a truce for his sake ok? I think he's seriously getting sad about all this. I promise I'll never get you fired again.' and you would have probably conceded immediately! You probably would have been so pleasantly surprised that I gave a single damn about Shinra's sadness – you probably would have thought better of me straight away! Even if you didn't believe me at first about the whole not getting you fired ever again thing…

But you would never want me in your life, Shizu-chan. You would never accept the sort of person that I am. I mean, unless I was a beautiful woman of course! Then you might just be able to forgive me…I understand that, too though. Something bad happened to you when you were younger that really messed you up right? Shinra told me about it once. You saw a woman in trouble, flew into a rage to help, and ended up hurting her instead… I'm not really ashamed to say I laughed pretty hard about that when I first heard it… pretty sure I was ecstatic at the concept that you'd be an eternal virgin like a total loser – don't worry, Shinra bitched me out immediately for that reaction...Basically told me I was a terrible human being for laughing at your pain…Isn't it creepy how patiently he smiles when he says stuff like that?

That's why you let women get away with literal murder...the thought of ever hurting one of them just makes you feel too sick inside... I get it.

It's totally sexist, but I get it! See, that just might be one way I'm a little better than you - I let both genders get away with murder against me, and torture them both with equal enthusiasm! I am truly egalitarian, Shizu-chan, you should learn from me! You really shouldn't underestimate the fairer sex so much...one of them might just use that advantage to kill you one day.

But I concede, it probably won't be Vorona! That girl really adores you, no wonder you don't care she's a psychotic prodigious assassin! Because she looks at you with admiration and loyalty instead of disgust and contempt...

Still, you're a little fucking naive if you thought killing me would have done any damage to her mind. That ship sailed many, many dead bodies ago, Shizu-chan! You're the only one who would have been bothered by her murdering me! Still, it's admirable you never feel any temptation to corrupt anyone's mind at all...couldn't possibly relate to you on that one...if a beautiful woman had wanted to kill you for me, I would have smacked her fondly on the ass and sent her right to your address, no matter how it fucked with her in the future! I'd probably have gotten a huge thrill out of it, especially if it damaged her in some way! Because isn't that a beautiful sign of love, when someone is willing to destroy themselves for you?

You can tell Shinra I said that, maybe he'll finally take the fucking hint!

But of course, Vorona looked at you like you'd hung the sun for her when you were born into the world - do you know how devastatingly cold blooded and ruthless she is? She must have had the system shock of her life when she tried to put you down! And then you handle her with great care and take her under your wing? Hah! You're too scared of women to know this, but they really, really dig that shit. When a powerful man puts them in their place a little bit and makes them feel all girly and vulnerable and whatnot… God they eat that stuff up! And she's so dead inside she probably went through her whole life never feeling that way and never expecting too!

Good luck getting rid of Vorona if you ever get tired of the dead bodies she leaves in her wake! I'll bet my whole fortune she latches onto you forever and ever and never let's go! God, your kids would be the cutest! Assuming they weren't born with her psychopathy and addiction to finding new and creative ways to kill people, combined with your massive strength...

Actually, on second thought Shizu-chan, please don't ever, ever breed with Vorona. If you love the world, don't play "indestructible superhuman psychopath" roulette with your genes! You're the only one I trust with that power! If you breed and it's a true monster this time, I might just have to…

Ahh, I would never come to kill your kid, Shizu-chan, who are we kidding? I'm stuck in a wheelchair and I hate the thought of killing people, remember? I still think it's a seriously bad idea though. When you finally pluck up the courage to make the beast with two backs with Vorona, just for the love of humanity use protection! You guys can adopt or something! Let's be reasonable adults about all this!

But this is supposed to be an apology for that time I seriously tried to kill you or turn you into a murderer…I'm not sure how it turned into a lecture for you to breed responsibly?

I guess the reason I never tried to make peace with you was because I knew it would mean having to stay away.

I could either have you ignoring me forever because I kept my distance, or chasing after me forever because I stayed close, but those were the only two options. Because, for a total brute, you're surprisingly gentle and kind. You would never approve of my hobbies like Shinra does! That was his big blind spot, you know? Assuming that you were anywhere close to as callous as he is. Shinra is kind of an idiot sometimes. He's seriously so clueless, but isn't that what we love about him? Isn't that why you let him ask for samples of your blood with so much patience, because you understand that he's not reducing you to a freak of nature – he's genuinely fucking losing his shit at the fact that someone like you even exists in this world?

I lost my shit too, just in the really opposite direction! Your existence horrified me, when it wasn't thrilling me because I was power-tripping over getting you so worked up and miraculously surviving your wrath…

Shizu-chan…you'd probably never believe me but…

The thought that I almost killed you legitimately horrifies me. I can't believe I did that. I know you think I'm evil, and by some measurable philosophical standard I probably am – but I never wanted to be a murderer. Never, ever, ever! That's probably the only thing we have in common. I was only able to convince myself to do it because I felt so threatened by you, I turned you into a monster in my mind.

I'm someone who resents the idea of a God, passing out judgement on who deserves to exist and who doesn't. And yet, I decided you didn't deserve to exist because I was too much of a small man to handle your existence... I was willing to die to play God with your life…Do you understand? We all have lines we thought we'd never cross… Even me…

You really don't have any idea how much I love the humans in my life Shizu-chan…and now that I realize how human you are, the thought of you dead really, really freaks me out!

Izaya gasped for breath, clutching his chest as he began to panic, hunching over in his wheelchair. He couldn't fucking breath, when had he stopped breathing properly? His eyes had swelled up with tears at some point and he didn't even know how long they'd been spilling down his face for. Everything hurt so fucking much, but the tears were what really pissed him off! Hadn't he just been thinking about how he never cried from sadness and couldn't feel remorse?

"Fuck!" he screamed, slamming his fist down on the arm of his wheelchair, hoping to shock himself into breathing properly again. It sort of worked – his arm hurt pretty bad from that – but crossing his legs a couple of times really did the trick! Panic attacks really had nothing to say anymore, after all that screaming agony.

Izaya breathed heavily for a little while, his head laid back in his chair and his eyes pinched shut.

Then he opened them and scowled, a more fearsome scowl than anyone had ever been privileged enough to see on his face.

This was enough! He was sitting alone in his apartment, exhausted from lack of sleep and too much thinking, starving from not having eaten enough recently, composing an apology in his head to the man that broke him! And it was accomplishing nothing because he already knew he'd never type it out and send it! All it was doing was fucking him up, and sending tears down his face for the first time in years! Fuck this! What the hell even was this? This was why he didn't try to kill people! So he'd never have to put up with the fucking remorse! Remorse was the most disgusting emotion he'd ever experienced! Who needed it, anyway? What good did it do! He hated remorse!

This is the worst night ever, and that's coming from someone whose last worst night ever put him in a wheelchair!

Izaya rubbed the few tears that had spilled involuntarily down his face away, staring down at them on his hands with a scowl.

"What a waste of saltwater that helped nobody! Why the hell do people say crying makes them feel better, this is seriously disgusting!"

He was so done with this! He needed out – he'd go anywhere, anywhere else that was open!

Izaya rolled into his bathroom and forced himself to his feet, his wheelchair rolling back slightly behind him. The pain almost blanked out his mind entirely, almost made his vision go white. He staggered and clutched the sides of his sink, forced to hold still and gather his strength for what he was about to do.

After almost a minute of just standing there, preparing himself while trembling in overwhelming agony, he finally released his grip on the sink and stood on the power of his own two legs. Then he quickly turned the tap on and splashed the hell out of his face, erasing any evidence of his tears.

He collapsed back into the wheelchair as soon as he was satisfied, his spine arching from the convulsions he was experiencing in all of his muscles. He hissed through his teeth; eyes squeezed shut as he tried to recover from the harm standing up had done to him.

He reached out for a fluffy black towel as soon as he was able to raise his arms, drying his face and his white long-sleeve shirt. He tossed the towel away from him into the corner of the room, still in a grumpy huff, even if the pain had soothed most of his other emotions away.

Then he peeked over the sink, turning his head to look at himself in the mirror above it. He could only make out the top half of his reflection. He looked tired, but if he smiled nobody would even notice. His face was just too good looking, thank god. He brushed his fingers through his hair, arranging it around his face after the towel had disheveled it.

When he was satisfied Izaya left his bathroom and rolled towards his favorite black, hooded, fur-lined coat. It was a new one he'd gotten recently, after Shizu-chan had ruined his old one. He tended to favor white shirts more than black these days, on account of the bandages he still wore over his arms – not because his bones were still broken, but because he hated seeing the scars from the surgical pins. Looking at them had the potential to trigger flashbacks of the moment his arms had shattered. They were still less fucked than his legs though. His inability to walk was largely psychosomatic – a condition of trauma. His arms on the other hand would make a full recovery by the end of the year if he just moved them around normally every day – he hadn't been running away from Shizu-chan all night on his hands after all, although that was a pretty hilarious thing to picture…

Thus, he usually donned white shirts these days, so he wouldn't notice the bandages as much when they occasionally peeked out. To match it, he had changed the color of the fur-lining on his coats to a beautiful fluffy white. He'd tried it on when he first found it and checked himself out in the changing room mirror. His arms had felt too weak to wear the coat properly, so he had merely draped it over his shoulders to get a look at the effect – and he had almost laughed out loud right there in the store.

When he wore his black, hooded, fur-lined coat over his shoulders like a cape instead of like a normal person, it made him look like a king! Like the wheelchair was his throne! Izaya had only really ever had one style, and he'd fashioned it into his identity. Wore basically the same thing every day, so everyone would catch a glance of dark cloth and tan fur and recognize who he was on sight. He'd never felt particularly motivated to change things up – if it aint broke, don't fix it right?

Well, then he'd broke and been forced to fix it, but the delightful silver lining was that his favorite and pretty much only fashion statement worked really well with the wheelchair. Switching the tan fur to white had even strengthened the impression, and gave him a heavenly white halo of fur to contrast with his dark hair. There was almost something funny about the fact that he'd been basically pushed to wearing white shirts instead of black for purely pragmatic and selfish reasons, but it looked like he was trying to change his identity into something purer.

As if he'd found some sort of redemption in his punishment.

He hadn't. Izaya didn't believe in the concept of redemption. Humans couldn't help but be the way that they were, and the idea that any of them should need to redeem anything but their entertainment value offended him. It was like people thought they had free will or something.

Nobody had that. Probably not even God.

Which was why Izaya would never apologize for anything that he had done. He would only accept his punishment, and make no attempt to escape it. He would never walk again, but that was the only thing that would change about him. Well, that and the fear of consequences, but he had no doubt he would recover from that with enough time. He now knew on a rational level that Shizu-chan didn't want to murder him, but being hunted by him that night had left a very big scar on his mind. The overwhelming fear that had driven him to the depths of insanity, breaking his body while not even feeling the pain… It was just too soon after that experience for him to escape that paranoia that Shizu-chan would come for him if he ever made a nuisance of himself ever again.

It might take him years to bounce back to playing with his humans again, but one day he would.

Izaya was insatiable, and unapologetically so.

He'd keep away from Ikkebukuro, he'd do whatever he could to avoid word getting back to Shizu-chan that he had survived and was still as 'evil' as ever. Shizu-chan belonged there, he had earned his right to keep Izaya away in their final battle.

But Izaya knew he would never change.

Right now, he just needed a distraction. He needed to speak to another human being, or just watch them for a bit. He needed anybody to focus on that existed outside of his own head. He needed to speak words out loud to people that could actually hear them. Also, he really needed some fucking food. He was starting to suspect all that remorse had been a symptom of hunger.

It was some time between three and four in the morning when Izaya left his apartment that night, rolling into the elevator and descending down to the lobby of his building. He knew the streets would be practically deserted, and no restaurants would be open at this time. But there was a 7-Eleven just across the street, where he might be able to find something he didn't hate the thought of eating – and possibly even get to see someone interesting. Anybody who was around at this time of night probably had some shit going on, even if it was just that they were drunk and in pursuit of food from a 24-hour store.

Humans were hilarious when they got drunk! He hated the loss of control himself, but he loved witnessing the different ways alcohol affected people. How some of them became violent, some of them became loving, some of them became happy, some of them became sad. It was simply too fascinating, provided you weren't trying to have some kind of serious conversation or something.

Yes, Izaya dearly hoped he'd run into some drunk people. Preferably not the violent ones though, although you'd have to be a pretty violent fucking drunk to randomly attack a guy in a wheelchair…

Izaya grinned widely as the beautifully-carved, wooden elevator doors opened on the ground floor. Or, maybe you'd just have to be a regular drunk who ran into Izaya when he was in a bitch-ass mood. Who knew? Well, he'd try not to antagonize anybody who looked like they could beat the shit outta him, but that was the best he had to offer as far as self-preservation went just then.

He was on his way out through the lobby – basically a beautiful, grand entrance hall leading up to an elevator, with an out of sight corridor leading to the rarely ever used staircase. There was a table sat on one side of the room, behind which was supposed to be sitting an armed security guard.

He wasn't there.

Izaya pulled his wheelchair to a stop and narrowed his eyes, searching the marble-floored lobby for the man who was supposed to be guarding his home. Izaya had never had any intention of interacting with him – he'd much prefer to just let him do his job! But Izaya had just decided he'd lost that privilege.

All it would take was a single moment for some stranger to walk into here, get into the elevator unstopped - and Izaya could be murdered in his sleep! He didn't care if the man had gone to take a piss. They needed to get two guards and fucking alternate them if that was an issue. But not the guy who foolishly listened to his bladder on this night! That man's time working here was over.

Satisfied that he'd have at least one fun thing to do when the sun came up, Izaya headed out the door – using his automatic beeper to make the bullet-proof glass doors slide right open for him. The streets were dark, lit up only in front of buildings and under streetlights. He rolled right off the curb onto the road, ignoring the painful jolt it brought his body when he landed. Izaya really did prefer to move as if the chair was nothing but a convenience, instead of a disability. Sometimes he tried to do tricks with it.

He drove his wheelchair across the street, jumping it onto the curb on the other side. His whole body screamed at him – but at least he wasn't thwarted by a single foot of concrete. Izaya headed into the 7-Eleven in pursuit of food and human contact.

And that's where he met Hanabi – a woman who would prove to be one hell of a distraction.


A/N: This came out of me after a four/five year writers block that hit me after my parents divorce. This chapter fucked me up so bad it was like being possessed. Once the words came out, I literally destroyed my keyboard – the letters s/d/o/l/c/n are scraped off now. Isn't that weird? Why those letters in particular?

I've been barely eating or sleeping. I actually lost weight from writing this and started chain smoking! I'm not even kidding guys, Izaya literally traumatized me on a meta-level. I got woken up by my own dreams because I was remembering what I'd written from that chase scene at the end there. I was literally reading it in my mind AS I WOKE UP! Like I'VE got PTSD from it xD The tragedy in this chapter was just too frikkin' much for me man. What a freaking character! Durarara is my favorite anime for a reason…

It's been many, many years since I've watched Durarara. I am reading Shizaya fanfiction like literally all the time tho. I had to fact check a bunch of stuff, but there's a shit load going on in that show so I might have mixed some stuff up. I'm gonna say right now that I'm taking creative license to do so xD You can trust me guys, I'll be good to you lol. The gist of things will be pretty accurate.

This was the first time I've written something in years because I'd become disgusted by my own writing. I'm pretty satisfied that I've improved a lot though. Now, for those of you who'd like to meet Hanabi…step right this way. Feel free to drop a comment first though – I haven't gotten any of those in years! I miss the dopamine guys! If you love me, tell me what you thought 3