Seven Ghosts
Part One
Chapter Six
Fragile
{[Orihara Izaya]}
Shizu-chan doesn't love me.
I don't doubt that someday, he could learn what with all the tender way he was acting, but as we know my time is limited. So I'm not going to fool myself into thinking that it could evolve to that point in a timely manner. He'll probably realize it on my deathbed or some cheesy soap opera crap.
I wake up in Shizuo's arms, and if I didn't have to pee so bad I wouldn't have moved for anything. Alas, my bladder is not taking no for an answer, so I get up and stop the room from spinning for a moment, then go and use the facilities. Then I forceddown an ungodly amount of pills and am loading up that evil little syringe when he knocked.
"Yeah." Permission granted. I suppose I might be gotting off on the fact that I'm making him hurt a bit, watching this. Watching me suffer. But that's habit. It's all out now, so I suppose I don't have to actively provoke a reaction from him anymore. Anger was just the easiest thing in the world to squeeze out of him, but now it was becoming guilt and worry.
I delight in wondering what unpredictable manners in which he will react to this awful curse. Even though I feel a little bad that it is these emotions and not something a bit more positive, but it's still something, right?
Shizuo walks in and quickly looks away as I try to find a bruise-free area in my thigh to inject the misery-inducing cocktail of drugs. "It's not so bad, you know. My stamina is waning of course, it's a given with this crap, but with enough morphine, it's livable."
"How were you leaping around like this was nothing?" he asks.
"You know the answer to that," I chuckle, sucking in air through my teeth as I inject. "Narcotics. Lots of them. And anti-nausea pills, that too. Ahh … that stings..."
"I have to use the bathroom," he mumbles awkwardly.
I pop three Vicodin and two Zofran House style and wink, then give him his privacy to get dressed, feeling heavy and worn with even my slight weight lately. I've come to identify the pills by how they feel and look instead of reading the labels, which is difficult without the glasses. Shinra would have had a heart attack if he knew I'm doing it this way, but I'm familiar with them enough not to make a mistake.
Because a mistake may well kill me. As if this tumor won't.
I sit in the lounge and wait for the room to stop spinning and the nausea to pass, pretending like I did every day that this is nothing. I ache to jump up to the railing on the stairs and just freerun to the loft area for the hell of it, but Parkuor is just too taxing sometimes, especially first thing in the morning.
I mourned my former existence.
I'm strong, I know it. I am beyond humans and their frailty, but I know damn well that some day – and someday soon – that this will become too much and I will be bed-ridden. I loathe that day, so I try to get out every day; I try to keep working … I try so hard.
The day I spend all day in bed is the day I'll really die, I mean it.
That is … if Shizu-chan lets me.
He emerges and picks up my phone, still in pieces, and puts it back together, turning it on for me. "I took the day off," he tells me, handing the device back to me.
"Why?" I ask.
"The nurse told me at the ER that you shouldn't be alone for a bit. I did sign for you, you know..."
"Aw, Shizu-chan, how sweet," I mock, though I hope he notices that I mean it. He may be a moron, but he does have a sharp intuition sometimes. "Oh, I missed a call from Shinra-chan..."
"Is it important?" Shizuo asks, seeming worried. It was wonderful and terrible at the same time to watch him squirm like this. It was a complete 180 the way he was all concerned for me all of the sudden. Unexpected. Terrible. Wonderful.
"Eh, he calls every few days to make sure I'm still kicking," I said with a shrug, listening to the voicemail requesting that I call him back. I dial his number and wait two rings, then he picks up. I don't give him a chance to scold me for not calling him sooner. "Good morning, Shinra-chan! How is the good doctor today?"
"Orihara-kun, how are you feeling?"
"Like shit, as always." There is irony in how the tone of my voice doesn't match the statement in the slightest. We go through the normal rundown, going over any worsening or lightening of symptoms, then he sighs. "Ne~, something wrong, Shinra-chan?"
"I'll be frank with you, Izaya. I want to do the surgery; I'm willing to risk it. The question is, are you?"
There is a stunned silence between us. Surgery had never been an option – no surgeon in their right mind would risk their professional career over such a hopeless cause. I was told it was just too close to the vital bits of my brain.
Shinra of course, has no professionalism to save.
"Izaya?"
"Sorry, did I hear you right, Shinra? You would try for me?"
"It's a lot to consider, so I won't rush your decision. I won't sugar coat the risks either – there is still a significant chance that the surgery would kill you. But you are my friend, and damn it all if my opinion is biased – I want to try and save you, but only if you're willing to save yourself. The recovery would be long and painful, but I watched my mother die of cancer you know, so I know your at least three times as miserable as you put off. Consider this: do you want to linger about in utter patheticness, knowing damn well those drugs are only delaying the inevitable, or do you want to go all or nothing? Get better or die?"
I couldn't say anything for a few moments. I almost forget he is on the other end.
"Izaya-kun?"
"I'll think on it," I finally tell him. "I gotta go." Beep.
"What is it?" Shizuo asks, his brow furrowed in an endearing manner. He dreads the worst, and I don't blame him. Hell, I'm terrified that he'll never get to throw another vending machine at me again, and I'm sure he feels the same.
"Shinra... wants to do the surgery."
"I thought it was inoperable."
"Technically it is. But he doesn't have a license to risk. Just a life. No big."
"No, stop it. Don't laugh this off, Izaya. This isn't a light decision."
"Thank you for reminding me," I mutter. What a dumbass sometimes. Then I grin. "What do you think I should do, ne, Shizu-chan?"
"You're asking me?" He seems surprised that I'm asking him. I am too, but I don't let that show.
"Why not? You're my medical proxy now, aren't you?"
"Yeah... but well... I ..."
He's adorable when he stutters, I decide. "I'm a ticking time bomb, you know. I could drop dead any second. Waiting for the chemotherapy to work might be more of a risk for death than that. And I fucking hate this. I can't see. I can't eat. A plethora of other functions are affected, most less desirable to mention than others. This existence is pitiful, really. I used to think nothing could bring me down, and you did too. I'd almost rather die on the table knowing I had a chance at the old me than to continue on like this. On the other hand, I fear death more than anything. It's the only thing that really motivated me to do anything."
I glance at the spot behind my bookshelf, where Celty's head remains hidden. To accept it from Namie had given me a thrilling chance to try and wake it up. Until a few months ago, I was still trying.
Now...
"I'm an atheist at heart, though the thought of an afterlife is intriguing. But if nothing awaits me on the other side, I embrace it. Even if it were Hell waiting for me... I think I'd take that to this. Knowing that, what is your honest opinion, Shizuo? Really."
He sits across from me and leans into himself, thinking hard. I would pay any amount to know what was rattling around in his brain, making the next statement more understandable at the very least.
"Do it."
"Yeah? Why?"
"Call me selfish. I can't take care of you like this. I have a job. A life. And suddenly I want you in that life. But not like this. If you do this, I will take medical leave and make sure you're okay for a while. But I'm not going to give up what I have just to see you wither away."
"And after I am either dead or fully recovered?"
"Dammit, I don't want to think about that!"
"Well suck it up, you're a big boy. These are adult decisions. Everything is going to change now and you know it, even if I sit back and do nothing. Even if you snap my neck in my sleep. Even if I make a full recovery. Nothing will ever be the same again, but we have say over how that change unfolds. I won't say you can make the decision for me – though technically you can – but I will weigh in your sentiment, seeing as you're so determined to entwine your life into mine out of guilt."
Shizuo has nothing to say to that. Though it was plastered all over his face that the word "guilt" had struck a chord.
"So I'm going to do it. But not because of you, even though you would be a wonderful reason to try, if you would let me."
"Let you?" Shizuo repeated, surprised.
"Yes. I would like you to be my reason, but I'm not sure you would accept that kind of responsibility. If you fake this, then you can't let me know until I'm dead. I'd rather not ever know if you don't mean it. But if you can act the part, you can be my reason for living. Does that sound cheesy?"
Shizuo is staring at me with an expression I cannot decipher. It's so strange not to see his face all twisted up in rage in my presence that I haven't pinned his body language, facial expressions or lie cues yet. So I don't know if he's telling the truth when he says what he does next.
"Yes. Cheesy. But I won't act like you haven't had a profound effect on me, for better or worse. I will be your reason, if you'll be mine."
"You... your reason?" I ask, a little taken aback.
"It hasn't even been twenty-four hours since you confessed to me, and I already feel like I'm drowning at the thought of losing you." Shizuo sighs. "This is insanity. I can't explain it. I don't want to. But being around you is like a gasp of air to my drowning self. No, that doesn't make sense... I guess what I'm trying to say is … I'll be your reason, but know that you'll take a piece of me with you if you go, so don't give up so easily, understand?"
I chew on this quietly. "Okay," I finally say, then pick up my phone.
To: Kishitani Shinra 9:02am
Schedule the surgery.
((I 3 HUMANS!))
-SEND-