Disclaimer: I do not own Durarara!

Shiki refrained from tapping his foot impatiently as the client drawled about numbers he knew were bogus, artwork he knew that were fake the moment he set foot into the gallery. He fought the urge to glance at his watch, the late afternoon sun reminding him of Izaya's departure just yesterday from his living room balcony. Instinct had told him to follow, but years of dealing with the informant advised heavily against that particular route of action.

Now here he was, carrying about his life as usual, trying to ignore the rising irritation at the blathering man before him as he struggled to keep his thoughts away from Izaya.

"Do any of our pieces interest you, Shiki-san?" The man leaned forward earnestly, and he almost considered sinking his teeth into the other's exposed neck just to be done with the meeting.

"I'm afraid we might have met our quota for those types of purchases this month. I'll have my men check if we can free up some space," he replied, ignoring the crestfallen look the other gave him as he stood to leave.

"O-of course! Please, do let us know soon. They sell very fast, you see."

"I'll be sure to contact you the moment we are able to negotiate," he replied smoothly.

Shiki lit a cigarette as he exited the building, inhaling the much needed nicotine before heaving a sigh. He reminded himself that the informant was fully capable of managing his own affairs, save for the fiasco caused by a certain group. If anything, Izaya's entire predicament might have been his fault, but he refused to draw any conclusions just yet.

There were still too many unanswered questions surrounding what had happened to Izaya.

Shiki slid into the backseat of his usual car. He shouldn't worry himself about the informant. Izaya was merely a troublesome associate at best. There was no need for him to get involved any further.

"Where to next, Boss?" his driver asked.

Shiki grimaced again at his watch. He had lost track of the number of times he had looked today.

Izaya can take care of himself, he repeated in his head.

To his chagrin, he found himself standing outside a certain underground doctor's apartment twenty minutes later. He shouldn't care, Shiki reminded himself one last time, before ringing the doorbell. He suddenly remembered that he hadn't given Shinra advanced notice of his arrival and wondered if the trip was all for naught until he heard footsteps in the distance. The door clicked open, and he knew instantly that Izaya was not in the apartment.

"Oh, Shiki-san! What brings you here?" Shinra greeted him, stepping aside for him to enter.

He swallowed thickly, pushing the disappointment in his chest aside. "Has Orihara come by?"

"Nope! I haven't seen him since the last check up at your apartment." The doctor seemed to consider him for a moment. "Do you want to wait for him here? He might show up."

Shiki wondered just what Shinra saw in his face and stepped into the house, deciding to take the other up on the offer. "If you don't mind," he muttered.

"I have some charting to do in my office, but feel free to stay as long as you need!" the man chirped before leaving him alone in the living room. Shiki supposed he could at least enjoy a cigarette in peace away from the bustle of his underlings as he made his way outside onto the balcony and lit one of the cancer sticks.

Shiki leaned on the railing, inhaling the smoke aimlessly as he stared up at the blood orange sky. Izaya's distraught countenance flashed once again in his mind's eye, the usual confidence he was so accustomed to all but gone. He had already sensed that something was wrong a week ago but chose to ignore it with each passing day, not even knowing what he could have done to avoid such a situation other than to let the informant figure things out on his own.

Shiki silently admitted that it may have been rather pleasant while their imaginary domestic situation lasted, but he had understood that the past few weeks were always meant to be short lived. After all, Izaya was not a creature that was easily controlled, and that was what drew him to the informant to begin with, all those years ago.

The doorbell rang in the distance, and he stayed where he was, intent on finishing his smoke.

He knew from the beginning that Izaya wouldn't be so stupid as to make a beeline to Shinra's house if the man truly wanted to avoid him.

.

"I seem to have a lot of visitors today!" Shinra quipped merrily upon opening the door, and Shizuo could almost already tell that he had likely made the trip in vain.

"Is Celty in?" he asked anyway, feeling a little silly that he had not texted her beforehand to make sure she was even home.

"She's been out all day on some jobs. I thought she would've come back by now, but here I am, all by my lonesome self," the doctor lamented before suddenly pausing, eyes twinkling. "Oh wait, I'm not alone. Shiki's here too, if you want someone to talk to."

"You're joking, right?" he deadpanned.

The man shrugged, obviously unperturbed that he had a yakuza inside his apartment. "You might be able to get some info from him today. He's in a mood."

Shizuo stepped into the entrance against his better judgment, supposing it wouldn't be too bad of a trip if he could finally gain some intel on Kasuka's attackers from the man. He didn't know what Shinra meant by "in a mood," but he could also have the doctor fix him up right then and there if things got messy. "You aren't doing anything dangerous, right?" he reaffirmed just in case.

His friend laughed. "Not at the moment. He's out on the balcony if you want to talk to him." Shizuo entered the living room, spotting the now familiar white suit just outside the sliding doors. "I have some work to finish up, so just let me know if you need anything."

The doctor disappeared into his office, leaving Shizuo alone in the living room. He turned his attention back to Shiki, who was peering over at the streets below with a rather contemplative expression. Shizuo still questioned whether or not this was a good idea as he took a breath and slid the door open.

Shiki looked up at the noise, expression melting back into its usual indifference.

"Izaya's not with you?" Shizuo inquired. He supposed the flea was probably the best thing to start the conversation off with. Outside of the possible connection with Kasuka's attackers, Shiki and him had little in common.

To his surprise, a forlorn smile spread across the man's face. "I lost him," the man replied.

Shizuo stared at him, feeling a tsunami of emotions sweep through his chest as he slowly processed the statement. It didn't make sense, he tried to tell himself. Shinra seemed perfectly fine earlier, but it would definitely explain the melancholy surrounding Shiki. Perhaps the man hadn't informed the doctor?

Shizuo couldn't help but think of all of those years he had spent chasing the blasted flea; in fact, he almost felt cheated. He took a deep breath to calm himself. "Izaya's dead?" he finally managed.

Shiki chuckled, no doubt recognizing all the emotions that had spread across his face. "No, he ran away from me."

"Oh." Shizuo brushed aside the relief that Izaya didn't deserve. "He'll be fine," he reassured the man nonchalantly, although he meant every word. The flea was a resilient creature, as much as he'd hate to admit it.

The yakuza merely responded with a soft sigh, turning his gaze back to the city below. "I wish to confess something to you Heiwajima-san, knowing that it is not for my own interests," the man spoke after a moment.

"Oh?" He didn't take Shiki to be a man to offer information that could potentially harm himself so readily.

"That day, when I found him half-dead in that warehouse, one of the bullets he took was for me."

"That's…" Shizuo swallowed. "Unlike him."

The man chewed unconsciously on his cigarette. "I am well aware. The informant we both know only thinks of himself, always meticulously plans out every single one of his moves." The sunlight shifted slightly, and Shizuo could almost make out a deep red coloration in the man's otherwise black eyes. "I keep wondering if he knew from the beginning, if everything was orchestrated."

"I wouldn't put it past him," Shizuo grumbled. "So what happened after?"

"He was dying." The man took a drag from his cigarette and breathed out slowly, letting the smoke dissipate into the air. "I asked him if he wanted to live."

At this point, Shizuo was unsure where Shiki was trying to go with this information. "Isn't the answer obvious?" he prodded impatiently.

"He hesitated." Shiki sighed. "Why would he hesitate, Heiwajima-san? Should I not have decided for him?"

Shizuo let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding in. "Wait, what did you do to Izaya again?" The words slipped from his mouth as he recalled how the flea had been running about their last meeting.

"Would you believe me if I told you that I turned him into a vampire?" the man answered with a straight face.

Shizuo blinked at him, trying to put the pieces together in his head. It shouldn't surprise him; his best friend was a headless woman made of shadows, after all. He opened his mouth to answer but couldn't find the right words.

The man chuckled. "Don't think too hard about it. I just wanted to tell someone."

Shizuo didn't recognize the downcast eyes; the weary countenance that the yakuza currently exuded was unlike anything he would ever expect from the man. It really didn't make sense for Shiki to lie, and the other didn't seem the type to joke about such a thing. It was still rather difficult to believe, and he leaned against the balcony railing, perplexed by the entire situation. "So, vampire, huh?" he muttered, more to himself than the other. "I guess he really is a flea now."

Shiki snorted. "On the contrary, I fear he may not feed. He's expressed a strong aversion to drinking human blood whenever I offer it to him."

For some reason, this revelation bothered him slightly. "What happens if he doesn't drink? Is he going to turn rabid or something?"

"You're not far off," Shiki replied. "The more you try to suppress the urges, the stronger they make you until you finally snap and attack someone."

"Oh," Shizuo grimaced. Izaya had displayed almost inhuman agility in their many chases, and the thought that the flea would only grow stronger gave him no solace. He waited for the other to continue, but the man merely took a deep smoke, watching the fumes dissipate into the air as he breathed out.

Shiki smoldered the remainder of his cigarette into the ashtray, letting the silence fester for another moment. "I suppose it is possible to fight the urges. I've seen it once, many years ago," the man finally said.

"Hm…" To be honest, he didn't take Izaya as someone who would willingly lose control like that. "What if he manages to avoid drinking blood altogether?"

"Then he'll die," Shiki replied simply.

Shizuo was about to comment when he noticed the slightest downturn of the man's eyebrows, the small discontented frown that seemed so apparent now on Shiki's lips.

"You care about him, don't you?" he asked despite himself.

His comment seemed to catch the man off guard. "What makes you say that?" There was more curiosity than annoyance in that statement, so Shizuo decided it was probably safe to answer.

"Well, you're more worried about the fact that he will die from not drinking blood than if he were to expose your true nature to someone else." He crossed his arms, nodding in affirmation. "Yeah, you haven't mentioned that even once, and that would be my biggest concern if I were in your situation."

The yakuza seemed to consider the analysis, and for a moment, he thought that Shiki would deny everything.

"I suppose that observation may have some validity," the man stated instead.

.

Izaya punched in the code to his apartment and threw the door open, thankful that he had installed the keyless system recently else he would have had to pick his own lock on more than one occasion. He glanced at the clock, noting that the journey from Ikebukuro had been much quicker than anticipated despite taking quite a few detours to avoid the sun and the occasional human.

He grimaced as he recounted how his legs had involuntarily taken him off the ledge of the balcony, the adrenaline still slowly trickling out of his veins as he envisioned how Shiki had reached out, as if the man actually… Izaya heard a small shuffle from within his apartment, and held back the involuntary groan that threatened to escape his lips as he paused the thought before it could fully form.

"Welcome back," Namie deadpanned from the sofa, completely unperturbed by his hasty entrance.

"Aren't you glad to see me?" he returned, caking all masks back on his face with a carefree smile.

"Hardly," she scoffed.

Izaya barked out a laugh. As much as he loathed to admit it, even the slightest sense of normalcy comforted him.

"What happened to you anyway?" the woman inquired. "That Shiki guy wouldn't tell me anything."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Sprained my ankle."

"Sure." She motioned to his feet with a nod of her head. "Makes sense why you're not wearing any shoes."

Izaya removed his ruined socks in response and tossed them into the trash. "Sometimes one just needs to feel the earth under his toes."

"Bullshit, you hate it when your feet are cold," Namie replied, returning to her laptop. "Whatever, at least you were able to get some of the jobs finished."

"I need to maintain my clientele," he retorted as he headed towards the stairs to grab a fresh pair of socks from his room. A waft of Namie's perfume permeated his nose as he passed, causing his skin to prickle as he stopped in his tracks.

"Actually, you can go home for today," he told her, not wanting to take any chances. He had thought that he drank enough earlier, but it was better to be safe.

"Already? Are you slacking off now?" To his surprise, Namie closed her laptop and proceeded to pack up her belongings without further comment, and he took the chance to skip up the stairs. He slipped on a fresh pair of socks before taking a deep breath to rid his sinuses of the woman's scent, but it lingered regardless.

Izaya sighed, hoping that Namie would be quick with her departure, and headed back downstairs before she could comment on how long he took to grab a pair of socks. He slumped down onto his chair and turned on his desktop, reminiscing the last time he was at his apartment as he twirled about aimlessly.

"I'm off then," Namie announced as she peered under his hood out of nowhere. Izaya suddenly recalled that he had forgotten to remove it, and it was certainly too late now to escape the woman's notice. "Sure it's just a sprained ankle?"

"Don't," he breathed, cursing his carelessness. He knew she could see his blood red eyes, and the sensation surged again. Izaya made a mental note to establish his supply of blood with Shinra, hoping that he would be able to drink enough to keep his instincts at bay.

Namie took a step back, eyes wide, and it was then that Izaya knew that she understood and probably somehow suspected from the beginning. She composed herself just as quickly before straightening up. The woman had always been sharp enough to keep him on his toes at times. "Fine. Make sure to answer your texts. I'll work from home for now."

Izaya finally heaved a breath when the door closed behind her and melted into the chair bonelessly. He stared idly at the ceiling, thoughts wandering back to Shiki and what the man must be thinking about his sudden departure. His legs had carried him over the balcony railing in the spur of the moment, and he realized it was quite reckless now that he had calmed down, even if he instinctively knew that his body could handle the jump several stories down.

He looked at his slim fingers, the hidden power behind them bristling with anticipation as he considered his next step. Izaya didn't know why he ran, and part of him didn't want to find out, not right now. The entire situation was already baffling, and a man like Izaya never wanted to feel like things were out of his control.

That had already happened enough for a lifetime the past few weeks.

He righted himself and turned on his laptop, grabbing his phone to send Shinra a quick text.

"There." He nodded to himself, hoping the doctor would take care of his request in a timely manner. He wouldn't put it past the other to try a few tests though, now that he was like this.

Izaya scrolled down the list of messages that he had ignored since leaving Shiki's, ignoring a few from Tsukumoya when he noticed an unknown number nestled just underneath his secretive associate's. He hadn't been expecting anything new, and he opened the text hesitantly, finding only a short message.

"You want to meet, but can I trust you?"

He considered the words for a few minutes, considering the meaning behind them before grabbing one of his unused phones from his drawer. He kept a number of them for good measure ever since he noticed Tsukumoya's tendency to find him whenever he used a particular number too often. Izaya hadn't shared this particular phone with anyone yet, and instinct told him this might be a good reason to start using it.

"You can trust me," he replied.

An address in Ikebukuro appeared in response.

"Tomorrow, 13:00."

Izaya spent the next morning wondering if he should meet the man. He was almost certain that it was Yamamoto, and if the other had any connections with Lycoris, he might as well be walking into a trap.

He really didn't have any leads at all, and this could be the breakthrough he needed.

Or, this could be a trap, his logical mind repeated again.

Izaya slipped on his coat shortly after noon, wondering if he should at least contact Shiki about his whereabouts. If Yamamoto was related to Lycoris, then undoubtedly the yakuza would be the most affected if they were to somehow tear the information from him. Izaya gritted his teeth at the thought. He was more than capable of taking care of himself, he reasoned.

There was no reason to get Shiki any more involved with his problems.

Izaya shuffled down the streets under the thankfully overcast sky, pulling his hood further over his face instinctively as he moved away from the pleasant draft coming from the main streets. Shinra did promise him some blood tomorrow, which would hopefully help with some of the symptoms, assuming that he could bring himself to consume it.

"Oi, flea," a voice prompted him to slow to a stop, and he turned slowly to greet his nemesis, schooling his face into the usual grin. Leave it to the brute to find him in the middle of an empty alley.

"Fancy meeting you here, Shizu-Chan."

To his chagrin, even the familiar scowl was a comfort. "How are you feeling?" the monster blurted out the most unfamiliar line he had ever heard directed at himself from the other.

Izaya blinked wordlessly at that simple question. Since when did Shizuo ever inquire about his well-being? Any other day, he would have had a million witty comebacks that would surely piss the other man off and result in one of their spectacular chases through the city, but today he had nothing.

"I'm feeling just fine, thank you very much," he replied instead. He wondered how much Shizuo knew, and turned to leave, not keen on finding the answer to that question.

"Where are you going?"

Izaya snorted, exasperated that Shizuo was now even interested in his business. "I'm a busy man, and I need to catch up on work. I wouldn't expect Shizu-chan to understand."

He started walking away, mentally cursing his automatic instinct to incite anger in the other. He waited for the usual screech of bent metal, but there was none, only footsteps that matched his. He turned a few corners for good measure, changing his pace at random, and the man lingered behind him like a leech.

Izaya finally slowed to a stop, exasperated that the other would force a confrontation like this.

"Why are you following me?"

"We're heading in the same direction. I can walk where I want," Shizuo growled.

"Suit yourself," he huffed. He had neither the time nor energy to deal with the man, already finding the soft exhaustion starting to set in despite the protection his fury hood offered him from the sun. If he had to make an educated guess, Shizuo must also be looking for information on the men who attacked Kasuka and was too proud to ask. He had looked into the incident as soon as he had caught wind of it, which was hard not to, given that it was still all over the news. The timing matched up closely with his kidnapping, and he could only guess that the culprit was one in the same.

Despite their previous interactions, the footsteps beside him were surprisingly calm, completely unbefitting of a monster. The entire situation could even look like a leisurely afternoon stroll if not for the two people involved.

They finally reached the apartment complex in question, a rather ordinary looking structure in the middle of a small residential district. Izaya considered the likelihood of Lycoris owning the entire building, but the occasional laundry that hung outside of some of the units reassured him slightly.

"Are you going to ask me to leave now?" Shizuo interrupted his musings, nearly making him jump.

"Will you turn around even if I asked?" he countered.

"Only if whoever you're meeting has nothing to do with what happened with my brother."

"I can't promise you that, unfortunately. I don't even know who's up there." Izaya watched with some amusement as Shizuo's face cycled from anger to slight confusion, satisfied that he had captured the protozoan's interest. If Shizuo was being this agreeable today, then the other might be able to serve as a decent bodyguard should anything happen.

"Then I'm coming with you," the man growled.

"If you insist," he shrugged.

Shizuo seemed even more perplexed by his nonchalance. "That's it? Just like that?"

"It's not like I can stop you," Izaya replied, which was true, although he would never admit it. He was already feeling exhausted after that short trek in broad daylight and decided that he might consider risking a taxi back to Shinjuku once they were finished here.

Shizuo followed him without further complaints as he went up to the fourth floor. He checked the address one more time before knocking tentatively only for silence to answer. Izaya listened intently for any movement behind the door and decided to turn the knob, finding it unlocked.

"Pardon the intrusion," he called out as he entered the dark room, stepping into its depths carefully with Shizuo still in tow. Izaya closed the door behind them so that they would not disturb the neighbors and reached for the light switch, flicking it on.

"Hm… there's still electricity, so it's not abandoned," he muttered to himself as he stepped into the sparse living room.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Shizuo asked. "We didn't just barge into some random guy's house, right?"

"No, I'm sure." Izaya spotted a door past the large rug that encompassed most of the room and walked towards it, hoping he wouldn't find his mysterious client already murdered before they could talk. The air seemed to be getting thicker with each step he took, and he stopped for a moment, hoping that his hunger wasn't starting to act up.

"What's wrong?"

"Something feels…" Izaya muttered when a wave of vertigo hit him with the force of a truck, pulling him down to his knees.

"Izaya!"

He tried to catch his breath only to cry out in pain when his hands hit the soft fibers of the rug in his descent, the contact sending a wave of fire through his palms, almost as if his very skin was burning off. He tried to stand amidst the confusion, but the earth only seemed to draw him closer the more he struggled. After a second, Izaya knew that if he allowed himself to fall completely, it would be the end of him, his life extinguished in a brilliant flame.

"Oi!" Strong arms heaved him to his feet, but he only fell limply against the other, unable to muster the energy to stand.

He heard the sound of a door opening.

"W-Why are you reacting to that? No no no…" a new voice stammered.

Izaya looked up weakly to see a shadow of a man emerge before his vision went dark.

Thank you for reading!