A/N: Just some dabble. I was looking at fan art and this one strip about Izaya smoking caught my attention. What better way to capitalize on it than write about it?

This'll probably be a four parter. Mayhaps three. Dunno. *Shrugs verbally*

Enjoy!

Bored, always so bored. Unless he's around.

Don't get me wrong, I hate Shizuo more than anything else in the world but he's the only one who can make me feel something. Even if it is burning hatred.

So I've stuck around him because it's the only cure for my boredom, my chronic emptiness. I'm always trying to find other methods to cure that hollow dullness of boredom but they never last. He does.

When at rest, my mental state has always tended towards self destruction. All the stupid things I do, they're just flings to rid myself of the dreaded ring of boredom. It's where the knives and the gambling ring came from.

And that package of cigarettes.

Stupid human, what does he expect a high-schooler to do with cigarettes? The man had asked for information and I had given him that information. Like a good client he'd paid for my services. Perfectly mundane, until he'd tossed me an unopened box of cigarettes. He'd claimed he'd quit and didn't need them anymore. To me, it had felt like an invitation to do something stupid.

Like, say, try one.

I shake the carton before opening it skeptically and taking one white stick from the box. I've never smoked before and I hadn't planned on doing it in the future. But, here I was with a potential cure for my boredom and I would never waste something like that.

Besides, the ability to smoke might come in handy some day. With the work I'm getting into, the ability to blend is an important one.

So in the end, I intrepidly purse my lips around the filter of one of the cigarettes and, with the small lighter I carry in my pocket, set the end ablaze. The moment the first shot of smoke hits my lungs I choke, coughing and retching for a minute straight before my body stops protesting. Glaring at the cigarette, I decide to take another drag, determined to not let an inanimate object get the better of me.

Feh, how I wish I'd just crushed the thing then and there. That moment of curiosity lead to what my life is now, after all. It led to trouble, regret and pain, none of which are emotions a god should feel. I even knew that at some level but nevertheless, I put the cigarette back between my lips once more and breathed in.

This time it's better, the smoke doesn't burn as badly and the urge to cough is almost non-existent. The feeling of thick, black smoke filling my chest before being expelled shortly thereafter is an interesting one. Not one I'm particularly interested in getting used to but for the moment, it's captivating.

The experience soon becomes a dull background that I swiftly lose to the other sensations. I have absolutely no skill with smoking but I've watched humans aplenty slowly kill themselves with this particular vice to know the basics. Quickly, I catch on and my appearance becomes more natural. The cigarette no longer looks so out of place.

With the feel and the physical appearance already becoming a moot point, my overactive mind starts to analyze the flavor. It's primarily a smooth blend of bitter smoke, layered with something spicy and a dash of sweetness that ties it all together well.

It doesn't sit right on my tongue.

It's not bad per say, it just feels like it's missing something. Mulling it over I start to pick up on the hollowness of the taste and the way it feeds into my own emptiness while at the same time pulling my mind. The flavor lacks something but I can't seem to put my finger on it.

I realize the stick has burnt down to the filter and quickly drop it to the ground, snubbing it out with the toe of my shoe. Looking down at the package, I almost toss it away. I'd tried it, accepted that it wasn't my thing and now could throw the rest away without a second thought, but I don't.

Instead, I light another.

Because I've got to know what that missing component is. The smoking isn't unpleasant and it's not like I have to fear addiction, the experience wasn't that special. I just want to know what it is that the flavor is lacking.

Curiosity, for the moment, will distract me from my boredom.

But, we all know what happened to the curious cat, don't we.

He was killed.

So maybe that's why I waited on the roof of Raira Academy after lunch was over, letting the bell signaling the beginning of class ring without moving an inch. I just had to indulge my curiosity. Smoking on the roof of the school was a poor choice, I'll admit, but I was the reckless type. I still am, I'm just better at it now.

The sky is clear and surreal. The world of my precious humans races along outside the schools gates while at the same time crawling by. It's just begging to be observed. I concede it this small favor as the smoke trails from the end of my cigarette.

My third, and I'm determined to make it my last. I don't think smoking is part of the impression I want to leave on people so I'll leave it as just a passing whim and move on after today. This is my last chance to peel away at the thing I'm craving from the cigarette that isn't there.

Everything feel so peaceful and boring.

But the world was kind to me that day and the peace didn't last long. It would have been terrible if it had. I hate peace and quiet.

Taking a deep breath I drag the second hand smoke back into my lungs. It reminds me of something. It's heavy yet at the same time it excites my blood. As I let it seep into me the sensation clicks and I can't help but smirk mildly. It reminds me of Shizuo. Of him chasing me. That out of breath yet high off the thrill and unstoppable feeling I've always loved.

Speaking of Shizuo, I hadn't seen him since the start of the week. No wonder why I'm feeling so empty and bored. I sigh. Bored bored boredboredbored. I need something to do. The cigarette is only frustrating my mind yet I don't get rid of it because the haze it's spreading over the scene of my mind is breaking up the monotony.

So bored…

"What the hell are you doing here?"

I must say, Shizuo always did have the best possible timing imaginable.

The low growl shakes some of the daze from my mind. I'm in the mood for a good game and if Shizuo is happy to oblige, why should I turn him down? There's a thump as he jumps from his raised section of the roof to mine. I blow out another stream of smoke, hoping the shallow breeze carries it his way.

Because what else would he be annoyed at?

Tch-ing in mild irritation at having been interrupted, I turn and disappointedly say, "Shizu-chan, you don't own this building, nor do you hold any sort of claim on this roof." Slowly, I turn to face him, leaving the cigarette hanging between my lips lazily, just to annoy him. Taking a drag I add, "I'm allowed to be here."

I can see the anger in his golden eyes. He's never even tried to hide it. I'm half surprised that he doesn't rush me right then and there in an attempt to push me off the roof but I attribute it to the smoke weaving in the air between us. No doubt his keenly tuned senses are being hit much more powerfully than mine are.

But I can tell he wants to say something because a moment later he snapps, "You're underage, why the hell are you smoking."

His words are so naive I want to laugh. This is just the sort of distraction I crave. Only Shizuo's stupidity can throw me out of my perpetual funk. My eyes light up and a smirk curls over my lips as I carelessly tease, "Shizu-chan, don't tell me you actually care!"

He doesn't like that, he never does. My sarcasm always infuriates him and I know it. Taking a drag from the cigarette still perched between my lips I pull it out and play with it between my fingers. His eyes are deadly and watch my every move.

Giggling, smoke leaking out from my mouth, I prod, "Are you afraid I'll drop dead from lung cancer?"

He takes a threatening step forward. "Like hell I am!" His beastly act is amazingly refreshing. "It's fucking up the air and I was trying to relax. Put it out!" His anger amuses me immensely.

Smirking, I flippantly respond, "I don't feel like it." Just because I can, I drag in a lungful of nicotine laced smoke and breath it out in one big cloud. Shizuo breaths it in, unfazed by my actions. Other than the fact that he's still pulsing with anger, his expression doesn't change.

For some reason, I didn't even contemplate why he hadn't attacked me yet. I'm an informant, now at least, and that kind of thing is vital for me to notice. Yet in that moment, I didn't even bother stopping to think. I just kept pushing him.

As I watch him, grinning, something strange happens. Shizuo's pupils dilate and he inhales deeply, as if trying to capture the smell of my cigarette. He seems enthralled by it and I have no idea why.

Then it hits me, Shizuo likes the smoke from the cigarette.

And I know that there is nothing that could stop me from exploiting that fact as much as I can. Something about the situation is weakening Shizuo's defences and there is nothing I would love better than to push him to see how far he would go.

He's the grandest game of all.

"Addicting, ne?" I ask, looking at him through half lidded eyes, daring him to make a move. "And here I thought you didn't like it." At my words, the off-balance beast's cheeks darken and I have to restrain a gleeful laugh from spilling over.

"I thought you didn't smoke!" He blusters, looking confused and dizzy. I don't think I've ever seen him flounder like this. Seemingly robbed of his ability to hurt me, even if only temporarily, Shizuo looks lost. Pathetic, even while still glowing with rage.

I'm never going to let him hear the end of this.

Taking a thoughtful drag of the cigarette, I causally admit, "Just started, actually. Not really my thing, ne?" I turn a lazy smirk in Shizuo's direction and am rewarded with a glare. It's almost as if he's threatening me, or begging me, not to take advantage of the weakness I suspect he's just now noticing he has. Stupid Shizu-chan, I think reproachfully. It's just my nature.

Loving this new side of Shizuo I've revealed, I wave my cigarette in his direction and mockingly ask, "What, do you want to try?" His scowl deepens. "You'd look so scary if you smoked Shizu-chan," I say matter o' factly, giving him a serious look. "Right out of a Shonen manga." I chuckle at my own joke.

Shizuo doesn't even move.

So I move, slowly walking towards him.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" It's a snarl but I'm not the least bit frightened by it. I just get closer and closer until he finally jerks free from whatever spell I'd had on him and grips my arm, shoving me back but not letting go. I wonder briefly if he's going to throw me off the roof at last, but dismiss the notion almost as quickly.

No, he's right in the palm of my hand. How far will he let me go? I wonder.

"But you like it, right Shizu-chan?" I taunt. On a whim I take a drag and blow the spicy smoke right into Shizuo's face because I know it's what's making him act strangely. His grip on my arm, and no doubt reality, loosens and I grin. Common sense tells me it's probably time to back off and leave but all I want to do is push farther. If this is how he reacts to the smoke, I can't help but want to see what happens if he tastes it.

"No I d-" He starts to snap but I cut him off as I press my lips to his. Taking advantage of his shock by slipping my tongue into his open mouth, I revel in how completely I know I'm breaking my monster. Then he starts to kiss back and suddenly I'm the one who's thrown off balance as I realize what the taste of the cigarette was missing.

Shizuo completes it and I know in that instant that I'll never be able to get enough.

And I never tasted it again. Funny how the world, who's so kind one second, can be so cruel the next. Ever since that day, no matter how much I fight him and hurt him and hate him, I'm never satisfied. It's never enough.

I dart back, swiping my tongue across my lips to catch that smoky, Shizuo-filled flavor that I'm never going to taste again. The look on Shizuo's face fills me with a sort of malignant pride. The knowledge that, even if Shizuo had managed to catch me off guard, I'd done far worse to him was infinitely comforting.

Leveling my breathing, I hiss gleefully, "See Shizu-chan, I knew you liked it." Remembering the mostly full package I still carry, I impulsively take it out. If I'm not going to use them, I think. Why not. Apparently I happen to like my Shizuos flavored with cigarettes.

Sighing, perhaps a touch dramatically, I say, "Ah, but alas, it's not for me." Giving Shizuo a calculated look through narrowed eyes, I add, "I don't feel like ruining my lungs for something I don't even like."

Before I can second guess this passing whim, I toss the box at Shizuo. He catches it deftly, still with a dazed look on his face.

Deciding enough is enough, I wave casually. "See you around, Shizu-chan." I slip past him and walk towards the stairs up to the roof, smirking as I go.

Because I had fun, and I'm curious to see what he'll do.

Perhaps he remembers it too. After all, he's still smoking. I'm still not sure why I did what I did, I do know that I've always regretted it. The hollowness got worse because of my blunder.

And the only one who seemed to be able to fill it was someone I hated.

But anything to get rid of my boredom, ne?