This one was inspired by the song 'Smother' by Daughter. The main characters of this one are Shizuo and Kasuka with mentions of Izaya. Enjoy this chapter and please leave kudos and comments! I love seeing them, it helps so much with writing! (/)
"I'm so stupid..." He muttered under his breath, burying his face into his palms to hide the dark bags under his eyes from an analytical gaze.
"Nii-san," Kasuka says, not really asking, just an acknowledgement of his brother's exhaustion and a small indication to continue. Even though his voice is monotonous as usual, Shizuo likes to think that hears a whisper of concern floating across to him. It makes him smile, short-lived and slightly subdued but it's a smile nonetheless. It feels strangely foreign sitting on his lips, even the slightest upturn of the corners is something he hasn't done in months. How depressing, to think that very bane of his existence could wipe a smile from his face, even when he's in the presence of his precious brother, to think that he held such an impact.
When Shizuo lets out a weary sigh, muffled by his palms, Kasuka barely blinks, only leaning back slightly as his ever-lasting patience keeps his persistent thoughts locked in his head as opposed to crossing the distance to Shizuo.
Shizuo, who is presently taking in measured breaths of air, attempting to sort his thoughts as to be able to speak the clearly. But where does he start? Maybe with the clearest statement, I'll go from there.
"I love him." Just saying the three words seems to lift a weight. Seeing Kasuka nod his head in acknowledgement only seems to further help. He lets out a lungful of air, throws his head back and stares at the ceiling for a while. After that, the words just seem to float out.
"I love him. I want him." He clutches at the pillow laying in the comfort of his lap. "He's not mine, but I want him. I seem to want everything that isn't mine." He lets out a long breath which seems to convey his dejection, his sorrow.
He sits up then and looks into his brother's eyes, which subtly surprises Kasuka. Because it's then that he sees how truly depressed his brother has become, all of his raging anger mellowed into something crestfallen, almost pleading for something that he can't quite comprehend. It's like watching a balloon, slowly filling with hot air through years of uncontrollable temper and becoming this great yet simple being, only to have someone with a provoking holier-than-thou attitude tug at the knot and let everything out, leaving a deflated depression in his wake. "I hate this." He hears Shizuo says, and blinks. Because they're no longer making eye contact, his older brother is now curled up on the sofa before him, hugging a discarded pillow to his chest his crestfallen eyes and his head lowered, as if the weight of the world held it there.
"I hate who I am and I hate what I do."
Kasuka gave him a look in which seemed to say 'What do you mean, Nii-san?'
He continues with a soft, pensive tone. "I suffocate people." He pauses, letting both of them reflect on what exactly he had meant, because at the time it seemed like the logical thing to explain himself. As if he was self-correcting, he stutters on. "I smother people. I cling to them so tightly it becomes too much to handle. And then they suffocate. I'm a suffocator." He looks at Kasuka then, who'd been passively listening, with some kind of inarticulate resolution, overwhelmingly dull in his eyes. "I'm a suffocator."
For a moment, Kasuka just stares on, eyes slightly wider and breathing paused. Then he says: "Nii-san..." and Shizuo just smiles faintly and tells him it's okay, give him thanks for listening and makes a move to stand and leave.
But by the time that's happened, Kasuka's out of his speechless trance and stops him. The touch of his younger brother seems to spark some realisation inside of him that makes him gasp.
"Oh no..." He mumbles, before looking at his brother. "I'm sorry if I smothered you, I sometimes wish I'd just never been born."
And Kasuka was never quite good at offering consolation, even less so when taken by surprise by his brother's blatant depression. So when the white shirt sleeve is tugged free from his hand, he does nothing but watch a lithe form dressed as a bartender and framed by a mop of blonde hair retreat to the door and leave with a quiet click and a mumbled 'I should go now.", leaving him there, speechless.
Shizuo walks along the streets, vaguely lit by flickering street lamps, almost useless in the darkness of a late Winter night. He doesn't know where his feet are taking him, but he trusts them enough to not think hard about it, instead thinking of how he'd smothered Izaya. How he'd chased and chased and loved and confessed and been shot down. How he'd been told nobody could love a monster such as himself who constantly pursued people, day by day in the hopes of somehow earning a scrap of love. How ashamed he'd felt and how he'd realised that the spiteful words indeed told the truth, something he's never realised but applied to everyone he cared for.
He thinks more along those lines in the dominating silence of the night, one so complete it almost suppresses anything passing along through his mind. The coldness nips at the tip of his nose and ears, unprotected by the winter's wrath. He drops his head, unseeing and he walks the lonely path he's moulded for hours upon hours upon hours. He walks through the night and into the next until his feet's protests are enough to force him to stop and rest in a place that is no longer Ikebukuro, but some foreign town in which he'll pass in a few hours. Where he'll end up, he's not quite sure but he's confident that he won't mind. He just wants to find a place where his bones may one day lay down and sleep, a place where he'll someday meet his creator, maybe the only thing left that he doesn't have the power to smother.
