Seven Ghosts

Part Two

Chapter Eleven

Seventh Ghost

{[Heiwajima Shizuo]}

The next few days are a blur. Izaya sees Shinra three times, and with a sigh and a frown, he says goodbye to his hair, shaved in order for Shinra to use permanent marker on his scalp to indicate where incisions would be made.

The surgery is tomorrow.

I come in from work to Shinuku as I have been for the past week or so and don't see Izaya's shoes at the door. I was going to tell him that I'd gotten the next two weeks off, but now I was worried. Maybe he'd passed out before he'd had a chance to get comfortable?

"Izaya?" I call out, then see a note on the refrigerator. I approach and take it down, reading it carefully.

Went to make a call.

His Ghosts list is still next to it, with all but two checked off. Publish a novel and …

"Your father..." I mutter. But why would he have to go anywhere for a phone call? I whip out my cell and dial his number, and was surprised to hear "Bust a Move" and the chattering vibration from his desk. Izaya had left his cell phone behind, and he always had it on him.

He'd left it there on purpose.

My mind raced and my stomach clenched. Where could he be? And why would he go alone when he was prone to collapse at random intervals? Who would know...?

I call Shinra immediately.

"Kishitani-sensei," he answers.

"Shinra, where is Izaya?"

"Izaya?" he asks. "He just left here for his last prescreen before tomorrow. He said you were at work and didn't want to bother you. Don't worry, he should be on his way back, if not just about there already."

"He was already here," I explain. "He left me a note."

"What does it say?"

"'Went to make a call.' The hell does that mean? He left his cell phone here, I'm a little worried..."

"Strange..."

"Do you think he went to a payphone or something to call his father anonymously?"

"His father?"

"Yeah, it was at the top of his list of stuff he wants to do before he's dead."

"Shizuo... Izaya's father has been dead for almost thirteen years."

The words sit heavy in my chest. It certainly explained the sensitive conversation about it. "What... what if he does something stupid?" I ask, trying not to let the words catch in my throat.

"This isn't good, Shizuo..."

"Where was he buried?"

The graveyard is small and dingy on a hill overlooking Shinjuku. The city lights are just coming on as the sun sets and the sounds of traffic are distant. I approach the only living figure, crouched next to a gravestone that read 'Orihara Anaru' in miserable contemplation.

"Hey," I say quietly.

"What are you doing here, Shizu-chan?" he asks just over a whisper. His voice is trembling. He'd been crying.

"I was worried."

Izaya doesn't look at me, only sort of half-laughs. "You should be, but I didn't want you to see this."

"Do you need a bit?"

"No, I've said my peace," he sighs, then to my horror he takes a gun out from his parka pocket and loads a single round, then spins the barrel. "Now it's his turn."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I step forward, but he aims at me, anger flashing in his eyes. I stop, scared for the first time in a long time. "Russian roulette? Really! How does this get you closure?"

"Because I'm the one that killed him."

I am very confused, and the look on my face must have been amusing to him as he smirks. It looks strange on his face with no hair, but it is a remnant of his old conniving self. "How …?"

"Car accident."

"Look, you can't blame yourself –"

Izaya laughs, and laughs hard. Harder than he has in a while. "Your presumption that I am in the same class as most humans is flattering, Shizu-chan! No, I killed him quite intentionally."

"Wh... what?"

"Thirteen years ago tomorrow I loosened the CV joint of his car and let him drive off. It came undone in an intersection and he was T-boned on the drivers side. It was a long, drawn out and painful death."

"I … I don't understand."

"You wouldn't. His death was the only one I was directly responsible for. I murdered him, Shizuo. I did it intentionally and maliciously. How does a human do that at twelve?"

"You didn't know any better at that age."

"Oh, I did. I knew very well what I was doing. It was my birthday present to me. My mother tried not to tell me on my birthday, but I could see it in her eyes. I crushed her dream of love, and I crushed her spirit; I forced her to raise myself and twin toddlers by herself. I murdered him in cold blood."

There is a long silence between us. "Does... does your family know?" I asked dumbly.

"No." He rises to his feet and put the gun to his head. "And they never will."

"Stop it!"

"YOU stop it!" he cries, finally turning to face me with bloodshot and crazed eyes. His shoulders were shaking and the gun shook against his skull as a result. "This is my closure! My father will tell me once and for all if he forgives me for this! I thought I would be ecstatic, but when I found out all I felt was numb. No grieving! No happiness! NOTHING! I am in a caste beyond human. Below human! Who does that, Shizuo? Who feels nothing over murder!"

He pulls the trigger.

Click.

"Put it down, Izaya. See? He forgives you, you're not dead. Not yet. Just hand it over –"

"Oh no, he deserves way more than just one chance at revenge." Izaya spins the barrel again and it is once again aimed at his head. "He gets two more shots, Shizu-chan. Because it was the third time I tried to kill him before I succeeded. Don't ask me why, they are ridiculously stupid reasons, but the bastard deserves a chance to send his son to Hell, as his son did to him!"

He pulls the trigger again.

Click. I flinch and so does he. Spin. The gun is back to his temple.

"Please," I beg, taking another tentative step forward. He lets me. "Please stop this. I don't know about death or the afterlife or whatever... but what was the point of all this if you weren't going to try and live?" He lets me come even closer so I can put my arms on his trembling shoulders. He is sweaty and ill, and in far from a sane state of mind. I have to choose my words carefully.

"I can only live if this Ghost is dead," he whispers, looking up at me with an intensity that is dark and angry. "If he won't forgive me, then I'd rather be dead."

"Let me help you, Izaya. You can overcome this."

"Pft. If you want to help me so bad then take this next shot. You would die for me, right?"

"Do it."

Izaya looks shocked. "You … you would do that for me?"

"If it gives you closure and the will to live... yes."

He slowly lowers his head to my chest and takes the gun away from his head, still shaking like a leaf. "You fool..." He then shoves me away and aims the gun at my head, pulling the trigger. I stumble backwards and screw up my face, waiting for the explosive sound and the terrible pain of being shot (it's not fun, I'll tell you what).

Click.

I land hard in the grass and just sit there for a minute while Izaya stands over me, in equal shock. Then we start laughing together. It is a nervous, strained giggle that escalates into a rolling cackle as we crack up.

"Fuck you, dad," he finally says, aiming at the gravestone and pulling the trigger again.

BANG!

We jump at the sound as the stone cracks. Then once again, there is a long silence.

I gently take the gun from Izaya and he lets me, still in shock. "Come on, let's go home."

"...Okay."