iRinnnng rinnnnng/i
Shizuo groaned and pulled the pillow over his head, trying to block out the shrill noise that suddenly pierced through the silence in his apartment. A loud beep sounded and then everything was still once more. Slowly he reached over and picked the cell phone up. The clock on the front read 3:42pm, with a notice of five missed calls and one voice mail, all from his boss.
"Shizuo where are you? You haven't shown up for work and I've been trying to reach you all day. Call me back."
He frowned and threw the phone away, not taking notice of where it landed. Tom's voice was stern, yet there was an obvious undertone of concern to it. However, to his employee it just brought to mind a string of fresh memories which had caused him to stay in bed all day, drifting in and out of sleep. It wasn't his boss's fault, though his words (and generous bar tab) has undoubtedly set events into motion. Disappearing today with no prior notice was completely uncalled for. Shizuo knew that.
He knew, and yet that did nothing to prevent him rolling over and drifting back into blissful unconsciousness.
White. It filled and obscured his vision as Shizuo awoke with a start, feeling a constricting sensation around him. He wiggled, but the grip only tightened. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, his groggy mind slowly began to realize he was tangled in the bedsheets. Twisting slowly this time, the blond managed to unravel himself.
The room was dark. Well, darker than it had been earlier, even with the shades drawn. Shizuo glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. 2:41am. Blond locks were plastered to his forehead, and a cold bead of sweat trickled down the back of his neck, causing him to shiver. The bed was slightly damp, too. Despite the practically whole day he had spent asleep, well rested was the furthest from what he was feeling right now.
His motions were heavy as he rose from the mattress and shuffled towards the bathroom, grabbing a towel that was draped over the back of the only chair in the room on the way. The bright light that flashed after he flicked the light switch momentarily blinded him, and he groaned, shielding his eyes. A sidelong glance into the mirror revealed to him an extremely haggard looking self. His hair was mussed, showing black roots, and deep circles framed his eyes. A moment was all he could stand to look into those hollow eyes before he stepped out of his boxers and into the shower stall.
Shizuo tilted his head back and let the lukewarm water trail down his body, washing away all the dried sweat and grime of the city. He could see the dirty water swirling down the drain, slightly murky, and then gradually clearer. Evidence that he was now clean again. Clean… so why couldn't he bring himself to exit the small cubicle?
Because it wasn't enough.
No amount of soap or scrubbing could reach down to his dirty, filthy core. The disgusting soul that was camouflaged by the shell of a well kept human being.
Shit. He couldn't think like this, though he knew he needed to. It was the truth and he knew it, but if he could just run from the facts for a little while longer. Postpone the realization that he, Shizuo Heiwajima, was a rapi-
Stop.
Knitting his brows together, the ex bartender reached down and grabbed his dick, looking for the most convenient distraction. He pumped slowly, willing the tender pink flesh to life. His erection began throbbing gently, and he closed his eyes, focusing on nothing but the sensation of his finger tips. His hips gave a particularly sharp jolt as he brushed against a sensitive spot near the base of his shaft. There was nothing but pleasure in his mind. Nothing but the sweet heat building in his stomach.
Nothing but Izaya's terrified gaze meeting his as the blond thrusted his cock into the informant's protesting mouth.
Shizuo's eyes flew open as his penis immeadiately went flaccid. He barely made it to the toilet in time, slipping on the smooth tile floor. He retched, and fill the bowl with bile, seeing as he hadn't eaten for hours and there was nothing in his stomach to hurl up. Gasping for breath, he stood on shaky legs and opened the medicine cabinet door, avoiding his reflection completely this time. Pushing aside a box of band aids revealed a small bottle of pills, which he gladly retrieved.
'Fuck this' was the thought that so eloquently ran through his mind as he swallowed what could only be approximated as a handful of the small white tablets. If sleep was going to be his only form of relief, then he might as well make it worth it this time. He stumbled out of the room, and made it about three quarters of the way to his bed before collapsing onto the floor, letting his mind sink into a sweet state of blackness.
It hurt. Everything hurt. His head. His heart. And now his entire fucking body.
Shizuo groaned as his eyes cracked open, greeting the day. Fighting through the haze of sleep was difficult, but he rolled over onto his back, noticing during the action that his left arm had fallen asleep. Sitting up was a struggle, but eventually he righted himself.
Was he really waking up on the floor of his bedroom? Shizuo brought his tingling hand up to touch the side of his cheek. Rough hatch marks were imprinted there, proving that he indeed had spent a decent amount of time with his face pressed to the floor.
The blond chanced a glance downward at the rest of him. His naked form just brought a wave of fresh, shameful memories from the night before.
Pathetic. Here he was naked, on the floor, and waking up from a drug induced slumber like some miserable washed up celebrity.
The imagery brought a weak smile to his face, and a soft chuckle escaped his dry, cracked lips.
So he laughed deep, husky laughs that echoed off the walls of his apartment. He laughed because the only other thing left to do was cry, and Shizuo Heiwajima had no more tears left in him. His allotment had been used up many years ago. Whatever crazy thing that was happening right now was his body's chosen substitute, and he gladly surrendered to it.
The laughs were starting to become higher pitched and more hysterical now. Covering half his face with his hand, the blond threw his head back and let the laughter evolve into a long scream. The deep baritone vibrated through the room, carrying out with it the piled up guilt and shame buried within the large, muscular body. Shizuo's fingers curled, and his hand on the floor ripped up a chunk of carpeting as his lungs finally ran out of air.
He sat for a moment, panting but feeling slightly lighter. It was only a temporary fix, the blond knew, but it was enough for him to ignore the banging on the wall coming from next door and reach for his abandoned cell phone. He ignored the missed calls completely and instead went straight to the unread text message. It was from Kasuka.
i[Check your fridge]/i
Curious, Shizuo pulled on his discarded boxers and obeyed the command. Inside he found a bottle of milk and a convenience store bento, accompanied by a handwritten note.
i"You haven't been eating, but you'll feel better after you do. These times pass, and there is always something to gain at the end."/i
Shizuo felt his heartstrings tighten, and the tears which he believed would never come suddenly stung his eyes.
"Sorry, baby bro. Not this time." His stomach churned again but he reached for the milk anyway, taking small sips. Kasuka must have come earlier that morning with his spare key, but Shizuo's bedroom had been locked as well. It was for the best. Though his brother sincerely believed in those words, Shizuo knew this time to be different. He had been the executor of a premeditated attack, attempting to break someone with the full awareness of what he was doing. Something only a true monster was capable of.
The phone beeped, and the new message icon flashed on the screen once again. Curiously, Shizuo opened it. This one was from Celty.
i[You snapped again. I can tell. Whatever happened, you obviously don't want to be found. However, please think of getting outside. This isn't healthy.]/i
The blond frowned and replaced the bottle next to the unopened bento. Celty was right, of course. The longer he hid, the more unbearable this pity party would become. Everyone knew he was a monster anyway. He would avoid them, and they would avoid him. Not so different from his usual routine, but just a sighting or two should be enough to keep those stupid enough to want to get close to him from worrying enough to actively seek him out.
He dressed, leaving his vest unbuttoned and not even bothering with the bowtie at all. Taking a deep breath, he hesitantly pulled open the door to his apartment. He could do this, if only for the sake of forming a protective distance between those he loved and the monster he now knew himself to truly be.