A soft, repetitive tapping sound resounded through the heavily marbled vestibule of the Awakusu-kai's Ikebukuro headquarters. It was the type of sound that, once one had detected it, was all that one could focus on - like the unbearable ticking of a clock or the insistent dripping of a tap. If it weren't for Akabayashi Mizuki's privileged position as an Awakusu-kai executive, the security guards would have firmly requested that he stop rapping his cane against the floor by now; but, as it was, his reputation as the 'Red Devil' made them reluctant to even make eye contact with him. Akabayashi didn't particularly mind waiting, but he didn't like waiting in silence.
There were two doors to the penthouse - one leading to the corridor containing the executives' own, relatively small office cubicles, and the other leading to the main office area. If he so pleased, Akabayashi could enter instead of waiting, but he refrained from doing so out of respect for his partner. He knew from experience that Shiki did not appreciate intrusion of any kind once one of his meetings had started; especially not when it involved the informant. The pair had a mutual understanding that they were to discuss whom they would be meeting with prior to these engagements, but Shiki's meetings with Izaya were exempt from this protocol.
The very fact that Shiki was in a meeting right now proved that he was speaking to the informant. As if on cue, the door was flung open suddenly and Orihara Izaya sped out, his facial muscles set in a taut grimace until he noticed Akabayashi. He slowed down, inclining his head politely with an incredibly false smile before scuttling away at top speed. Like an insect, Akabayashi thought. There was something intriguing in witnessing the one who watched - who also never shut up - completely silent for once. So intriguing in fact, that the beat of metal hitting marble was momentarily broken, before it resumed at double the speed. A soft smirk gradually spread across Akabayashi's features. The informant seemed strangely exposed without his cocky remarks and stinging rejoinders, and Akabayashi was looking forward to discovering what had carved craters in the image of one so obsessed with preserving an untouchable exterior.
Akabayashi strolled towards the open door, and the security guards, who had moved to block it, parted like the waves for Moses, bowing deeply as he entered. He nodded to them shortly before closing the door, leaving himself and Shiki alone in the office.
"Akabayashi-san. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting for so long."
The scent of whisky permeated the air as Shiki uncapped a bottle, glugging the amber liquid generously into two crystal glasses. He handed one to Akabayashi before moving towards the window, his gait lacking none of its usual grace, yet somehow troubled. Likewise to Shiki, Akabayashi was both perceptive and analytical, and as such he didn't need to be told that Shiki was watching Orihara walking down the street to know that that was what Shiki was doing, nor did he need to be notified that something about the meeting with the informant had unsettled his partner.
"I asked him to research Amphisbaena."
Akabayashi knew that Shiki and Orihara occasionally fucked, and that the other executive had a strong sense of possessiveness over the informant. He also knew that despite being colleagues, Shiki trusted him as much as Orihara…
"He feigned ignorance regarding its origins, despite being the group's founding member. I don't trust him…"
...which wasn't at all.
"...I don't trust him at all. He didn't attempt to hide his lies today, and that's no challenge for me." Shiki laughed humourlessly. "Of course, I can see right through him anyway - but it's an insult to my intelligence when he lies to my face with that expression." He paused, watching Izaya disappear into the rain with no umbrella and his hood left down. "There must be a cause for him to be driven to such a degree of distraction as this."
Noting that the informant was no longer visible, Akabayashi moved to the sofa, sipping whisky as he seated himself on the sumptuous leather.
"Perhaps you should dispatch of him. A distracted informant could be dangerous to us."
Shiki frowned, clearly displeased. "Eliminating the informant won't be necessary. I do, however, intend to eliminate whatever is causing this lack of vigilance."
"Of course. There are other ways of dealing with him without killing him. My mistake, Shiki-san." Akabayashi's smirk spread even wider. He knew that Shiki would construe his words as such, but he couldn't resist using them to get a rise out of Shiki. It was, after all, rather amusing to see the man so riled up about his favourite.
"What do you propose, Shiki-san?"
Shiki remained silent and expressionless as he replaced his empty glass at the mini bar he'd retrieved it from. He walked purposefully towards Akabayashi, and stopped in front of him, staring straight down at the scarred Red Devil.
"Test him. If you'd honour my wishes, I'd like you to follow him."
"Oh?" Akabayashi couldn't help but feel both surprised and amused. He was convinced that Shiki was going to suggest following Orihara himself, but it seemed that that wasn't to be.
"I'd like you to follow the informant, observing his behaviour and activities. We don't know for sure that he isn't fraternising with other yakuza groups, and observing him is likely to make that clearer."
"And what if he isn't?"
"If he isn't, he isn't, but it doesn't mean that he won't do so in the near future. I'd like you to continue following him even if you find that he isn't associated with another yakuza group. Orihara isn't being cautious enough about his own safety. He has a lot of enemies, and he could be easily vulnerable to them in his current state. We won't know if this evening was a unique event without gathering more information. It would, of course, be more ideal for me to ask some of our men, but I'd like to keep this information between the two of us. I can't follow the informant myself - being most in contact with him puts me at a risk of being caught. Akabayashi-san, I believe you to be skilled enough tail him with ease."
There was a pregnant pause as Akabayashi contemplated the request, examining the many, sharp-edged facets of becoming embroiled in Shiki and Orihara's affairs. It wasn't so much that he was concerned about becoming involved with Orihara's affairs, or even being caught by him - Akabayashi saw the informant as akin to an inexperienced child of no danger or consequence to him. It was the fact that he would be acting as a go-between, a mediatory party...which is always a dangerous position to hold.
"Think of it as a personal favour."
Lowering his glass, Akabayashi inclined his head in consent. It might be to his benefit to find out what exactly it was about the informant that had Shiki so captivated.
"Excellent. Begin as soon as possible, if you will; and contact me immediately if you witness anything of interest. I'll repay the favour whenever you deem it necessary."
Akabayashi rose from the sofa and made his way towards the door resolutely.
"I understand."
Izaya was currently experiencing what he believed to be the worst headache of his life. He wasn't even sick, but his muscles ached from their lack of rest. His face, nose and hands were numb from being drenched and exposed to the cold weather, and oh yeah, his head - his head was throbbing as though it had its own pulse, his brain being squeezed with each agonizing beat. All he wanted to do was go home and lie down, but that would involve catching a train, and the thought of being surrounded by all of the noise and the heat and the people made his head spin even worse.
So this must be what it felt like to have a migraine...he stopped, clutching some railings to ground himself as his vision became a series of dancing black cubes, divided only by fuzzy white lines. The brightness in his vision suddenly grew blinding, and he felt something on his arm. Without hesitation he pulled his switchblade from his sleeve and pointed it at the offending party. Then he heard it, a neighing sound, echoey and ethereal. It must be Celty. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply for a few seconds, he opened them again to see Celty, who'd backed away a few steps when he'd drawn the knife as though trying not to attract the attention of a rabid animal.
[Izaya, what's going on? Are you okay?]
God, his mouth had never felt so dry. He swallowed a few times before he managed to speak, reminding himself to stand up straight. He mustn't let the courier see him like this.
"I'm peachy Celty, just peachy." He shot her an unconvincing smile, steadying himself to walk away even though it felt as though the ground beneath him was the unsteady floor of a bouncy castle.
[If that's true, then why did you pull a knife on me?! You should come to see Shinra if you're sick.]
"It's just a migraine, Celty. It appears that even I'm not immune."
[Shinra said that you came by for some sleeping tablets.]
"Ahh, Shinra really is the most appalling person for upholding the Hippocratic Oath...whatever happened to patient confidentiality?"
[He told me because he's worried about you.]
Izaya snorted. "That's the most ludicrous thing I've ever heard! Congratulations, Celty, for giving me a good laugh. I know that Shinra isn't in the least concerned, or he would have actually given me the tablets."
[Why is it that you need them?]
"It's a secret."
Izaya began to walk away, but Celty mounted her horse and followed alongside him.
[Why can't you sleep?]
Why? If only he knew why.
All he could hear going around his head was 'why', 'why', 'why', Celty's 'why's' and his own 'why's', making it impossible for him to think or see clearly. The pressure was immense, and he felt as though he was either going to vomit or his head was going to explode.
[If you won't come to see Shinra, at least let me give you a lift home. It can't be healthy for you to be wandering around soaked in weather like this, and you don't look so good at all.]
Izaya stopped, feeling himself wobbling, and realized that he probably wasn't going to make it home at all if he carried on like this.
"Ahh, Celty-san's worried about my health!" He chirped half-heartedly. Taking that as a sign of agreement, Celty transformed her horse into a motorbike, helping Izaya climb onto it before they sped off in the direction of Shinjuku, Izaya praying that Namie wouldn't be there to see him in this woeful state.
From a safe distance, Akabayashi watched, making a mental note that the informant had just pointed a knife at the Headless Rider without provocation in an entirely ineffective gesture of a threat.
Arriving home didn't really grant Izaya the relief that he so desired, as he found himself clutching the toilet bowl and vomiting bile for a good fifteen minutes before he was able to pull himself to his feet and use the shower, limbs shaking and stomach muscles sore from the exertion. Namie was indeed home, but had thus far refrained from making any sarcastic or unsympathetic remarks. In fact, seeing the informant in such a state had stirred up the little empathy that she had within her, and so she found herself making the informant some soup and a cup of tea while he used the shower.
Stumbling out, Izaya threw himself onto the sofa, looking at the ceiling with stinging eyes.
"What's up with you?" Namie interrogated, a look of distaste written on her face as she loomed over Izaya.
"Migraine." Izaya mumbled, rolling onto his side.
"You should have at least dried your hair - having it wet and cold isn't going to help your headache." Namie set the cup of tea and bowl of soup down on the table beside the sofa.
"Too noisy."
"Hmphf. I made you some soup."
Izaya rolled back onto his back, looking up at Namie blearily.
"Huh? Why? Trying to see me off for good are we, Namie-chan?"
"Because you look terrible, and quite frankly, even I feel sorry for you. That's how pitiful you look."
Izaya scowled. "That's generally what migraines do to people, Namie."
"That on its own wouldn't make you look this bad. You're gaunt, and there are dark circles under your eyes."
"Thanks for the observation. Now, if that's all for today, you should be going."
"Have you not been sleeping properly? You don't seem particularly focused on your work as of late either, now that I think about it."
"Well, don't use your brain too much, Namie - who knows what could happen!" Izaya gasped in fake shock. "Now can you please get back to work?!"
"I suppose I better had, seeing as I'm the only one who does around here." Namie fixed Izaya with a scornful glare before joining the stack of files at her desk, watching Izaya out of the corner of her eye all the while. Eventually, the pained look on his wretched face was distracting her so much that she couldn't help but lob a packet of painkillers directly at his irritating, useless self.
Izaya's lack of response was highly disconcerting, and it was then that Namie began to question whether her boss was still alive, unlikely though it was that he had died in the five minutes that she had been back at her desk.
"Izaya?" She said softly, almost hoping that there would be no answer whenhis name had come out of hermouth like that.
No answer.
"Izaya?" More loudly this time.
Sighing heavily, Namie got to her feet and stalked over to him, shooting a glare at the chessboard with its pieces scattered and toppled all over the surface as she did so. The lack of answer could be attributed to the fact that Izaya had fallen asleep, curled up in a tiny ball on his side with the soup and tea untouched.
"So much for trying to be nice." Namie grumbled, but she couldn't stop herself from throwing a blanket haphazardly over her bastard of an employer anyway.