A/N: I've decided to go with the M rating. Enjoy!
The weather had held true on its promise of snow. The soft flakes drifted down lazily, melting as they touched the ground. Shizuo held his umbrella grumpily, the red canvas keeping most of the flakes off, but not the ones that caught the occasional breeze. He brushed them out of his already damp hair and wished he had a free hand to light up a cigarette.
"I think we'll call it a day after the next one," Tom told him, hunching his shoulders further against the chill. While Shizuo still wore only his bartender clothes, the other man was dressed in a thick coat, mittens, scarf, and hat which he had pulled snuggly over his ears. Tom was not a fan of cold weather.
"Sure," Shizuo grunted, more irritated than cold. The two men walked in companionable silence for a while, trudging through the slush that was collecting on the sidewalk. It was a quiet day.
The kind of day that was almost too peaceful to be real.
The kind of day that would normally set Shizuo's nerves on edge.
Celty had texted him a few days ago that the louse had woken up. He had been out for nearly five days and Shizuo had to admit part of him was fine with the thought of Izaya never waking up. His life would be so much simpler if he didn't have to ever see Izaya again.
He had to remind himself it was very unlikely for Izaya to show up now. Hell, the last time he'd seen the informant was nearly a week ago, pale and still in Shinra's exam room…
Shizuo clenched his fist, feeling his fingernails create little crescent marks in his palm.
He had felt guilty for his loss of control before, but never with regard to Izaya. That bastard deserved everything he got.
Definitely.
Besides, he had no reason to feel guilty.
He had repaid his debt. Even…
"…is two and a half million yen," Tom was saying, "so this one is pretty big. These guys have a history of being pretty violent so be careful."
"Right," Shizuo nodded, adjusting his sunglasses and following his boss up the metal stairs to the apartment building. Tom glanced at him to make sure he was ready before rapping firmly on the door.
"Who is it?" A voice on the other side snapped at the two men. "You better have the stuff or I swear I'm going to…" The man that belonged to the voice trailed off as he opened the door and took in the two men in front of him.
"Aw shit," another voice came from behind, "it's those collector assholes again."
"You're late on your payment," Tom began in a monotone voice, already sensing how this conversation was going to play out.
"Yeah, I don't think so," the one in front said with a sneer. He was a large man with a shaved head and a tattoo of a snake running down the side of his bulging neck. Shizuo instantly disliked him. "See, we figured you guys could just write this one off as a sort of… insurance if you get my drift. You know, like a preventative measure." Tom sighed, rubbing his forehead.
"Look, you knew the terms when you took out the loan-"
"I don't think you're getting this," the man's sneer grew sinister and he suddenly produced a wicked-looking hunting knife, "there isn't a loan anymore, because you aren't getting any money from us." The shaved man took a step forward and before Shizuo even had time to fully comprehend what was happening he was in The Calm. The world slowed down and with casual grace, he pulled Tom out of danger's path and grabbed the thick forearm holding the blade.
He wanted to inflict pain on others. He deserves to feel pain himself.
Shizuo easily flipped the man head over heels and sent him crashing through the apartment door. He groaned, but stayed on the floor.
"What the hell?!" Shizuo heard the distinctive click of the safety on a gun being flicked off and zeroed in on the man holding the gun in a shaking grip. Before he could properly aim, Shizuo grabbed him by the hands and spun him around the room, ripping the gun from his hands and sending the unfortunate thug through a kitchen cabinet head first.
Shizuo looked down at the gun that was still in his hands.
He wants to kill people. He deserves to be killed himself.
Shizuo flipped the gun around, the grip natural and smooth in his palm. Before he could lift it however, Tom was there, placing his hand on top of Shizuo's. He was saying something, but Shizuo couldn't seem to understand.
It didn't seem to matter.
He shrugged the other man off and stepped forward confidently.
Wait…
He moved towards the man who was painfully extricating himself from the remnants of the kitchen cabinets.
No. This isn't…
He lifted the gun.
What am I…?
Shizuo suddenly felt an irritating pressure on his side. The pressure grew to a sharp pinch and he looked down in annoyance to find the first man right next to him, looking up at Shizuo's face with a mixture of awe and fear. The bodyguard followed the man's gaze as it turned to Shizuo's torso where the hunting knife was buried up to the hilt.
Shizuo looked at the protruding blade, the white of his shirt already turning a brilliant crimson color.
Another shirt ruined.
His gaze moved slowly upwards to the tattooed man who was slowly backing away, eyes wide
"You ruined my shirt," Shizuo said slowly. "My brother bought me this shirt."
"Ah…"
"You stabbed me, didn't you?" Shizuo followed the rapidly retreating man, backing him against the wall, " You tried to kill me, right?! Then you can't complain, no matter what I do to you!" As he yelled out the last sentence, Shizuo brought his head down sharply against the forehead of the man who had stabbed him and a loud crack resounded through the apartment. The man crumpled to the ground, out cold before he even landed.
Shizuo sighed in frustration, about to run a hand through his blond hair that had fallen in his eyes when he noticed the gun in his hand. His brow furrowed in disgust and he tossed the weapon next to the unconscious man.
"H-hey Shizuo, are you okay?" Tom asked worriedly, suddenly beside him trying to get a look at his side.
"Eh?" Shizuo frowned, then remembered the pinching feeling in his chest. "Ah, yeah. Hardly hurts."
"Ah… Maybe you should sit down? I'll call an ambulance…"
"What? No way, I'm fine. Plus I can't afford that shit. I'll just get Shinra to patch it up…" Shizuo trailed off with a sudden scowl.
"Look, there's no way I'm letting you walk around with a knife sticking out of you! You could have a punctured lung or… or something!" Tom was waving his hands in an agitated motion by this point, which Shizuo knew meant he was really worked up about this. Actually, it was getting a little difficult to breathe. Maybe Tom was right about the lung thing. The hospital was absolutely out of the question though. If he wanted to be able to afford food and a roof over his head, there was no way he could pay for the medical bills.
That left two options.
He could go to Shinra's and let the underground doctor patch him up, risking the possibility of seeing that smirking bastard Izaya, or he could bleed to death.
Honestly, the second option was almost more appealing.
With a frustrated growl, Shizuo made his way outside the apartment, Tom following close behind.
"Shizuo! Where are you going?"
"Shinra's place is only a few blocks from here," the blond replied, pulling out his pack of cigarettes. He really needed all the calming effects nicotine could provide right now. "I guess I'll go get him to take care of this."
"Wait! You shouldn't be walking around like that!" His boss protested. "Also, is it really a good idea to be smoking now?" Shizuo hesitated with his lighter halfway to the smoke clenched between his teeth. Tom was probably right about that, but…
"Eh, it'll be worse if I don't have something," he muttered, lighting the cigarette. "Anyway, you gotta finish the job, right? I'll call you to let you know I'm okay." He offered Tom a wave from behind on his way down the stairs, ignoring the exasperated sigh his senpai made.
His mind was elsewhere.
I didn't even try that time… The Calm just… happened… A week ago he would have been thrilled to know it was so easy to control his anger. But now…
What's happening to me…
-DRRR-
His chest hurt.
It hurt so much.
It felt like someone was sitting on him, slowly forcing the air out of his lungs. Izaya tried to inhale, but his lungs refused to cooperate and his vision swam with colors, tunneling. He gasped, trying desperately to breathe, to move, to do anything. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, counting down how long until he fell unconscious… suffocated… died.
"Izaya."
The voice was new. Deep and commanding, it demanded his attention even though he knew what he would see. Izaya opened his eyes, unaware that he'd closed them.
A shadowed figure stood before him, his face impossible to discern from the blinding light that emanated from behind his head and shoulders. Dispassionate eyes bored into him and Izaya felt his heart stutter in fear for a moment before resuming an even more frantic pace.
Why…?
Why did this figure evoke such a powerful terror in him?
He could feel the cold sweat breaking out along the back of his neck, his stomach dropping somewhere near his feet and the irrational desire to whimper.
"Time's up."
Izaya choked on the deep breath he was finally able to pull into his lungs and coughed violently.
"After all the work I put in patching your lungs back up, you better not cough them out," a too-cheerful voice called out to him. Izaya was too busy fighting the pull of pain-induced unconsciousness to form a reply. Finally finishing his coughing fit, he leaned back against the pillow with a groan, looking over to the doctor with bleary eyes.
"Bad dream?" Shinra asked, smiling brightly, and placing the cup of water and bowl of udon he had been carrying on the bedside table. Izaya watched the doctor for a moment before replying.
"You know," Izaya began, "between barging in on me in the bathroom and watching me sleep, I'm starting to get a little bit of a stalker vibe." He smirked and added "What would Celty say I wonder?"
"Hm, I guess all I can do is throw myself at her feet and beg her forgiveness," Shinra grinned, looking as though he actually enjoyed the thought. Izaya rolled his eyes and Shinra continued, "I'll assure her she's the only one for me! I'll tell her it was a mistake! I'll say 'Don't worry my lovely Celty, Izaya means nothing to me next to you!'"
"Ouch," Izaya smirked, finally relaxing with the normal banter.
"It's not just you, of course," Shinra assured him, busying himself with some medical supplies on the back counter, "Everyone means nothing next to Celty."
"Ah Shinra," Izaya sighed, "we could have so much in common if you loved humans half as much as you love your monsters."
"Mm, you really shouldn't call Celty a monster," Shinra's voice was still playful, but there was a hard edge to it and for once, Izaya didn't feel like pushing him. "You do have good timing though! I was just about to wake you. I have to change your bandages." Izaya mentally grimaced, but kept his grin in place.
"And now you want to undress me. Should I be worried?"
"Very. This is probably going to hurt." Izaya's grin faltered a bit at the nonchalance in the doctor's voice, but by the time Shinra turned around it was firmly back in place. Shinra brought his tray of supplies over to Izaya's bedside, placing it next to the bowl of cooling udon.
"First, I need you to sit up." Izaya didn't bother hiding his grimace at the request, but pushed away Shinra's offered arm, opting to lever himself up on his own. With professional efficiency, Shinra unwound the bandages around Izaya's torso, disposing of them when he finally reached the end.
Izaya hadn't actually seen the damage done to his ribs yet and swallowed his surprise when he finally saw his skin. The bruise on his face was nothing compared to this. The entire right side of his body from armpit to hip was mottled with colors he didn't even know skin could turn. A large square of gauze covered a large portion of his upper chest, taped down with medical tape. Izaya fought down a brief surge of dizziness at the realization that this battered body was his.
"You okay?" Of course Shinra would notice.
"You're the doctor," Izaya told him trying to keep his voice offhanded, "you tell me."
"Well you won't be in a second," Shinra told him with a dark grin, "this is going to hurt." He reached for the tape securing the gauze, ripping it off in one sharp motion. Izaya gasped, squinting his eyes and breathing hard through his nose.
"You could warn me!" He snapped, glaring at Shinra. The doctor smiled widely, eyes closing with glee. Izaya glanced at the spot where the gauze had been, now framed by a square of raw pink skin. His eyes widened at the dozens upon dozens of stitches.
That's going to scar… He thought faintly, feeling a little nauseous.
"I needed to internally stabilize your ribs," Shinra was saying, his wide smile now faded to a sad, almost wistful one, "It took nearly thirteen hours working alone."
Izaya had the uncomfortable feeling he should be really grateful. It wasn't something he was used to. He was used to manipulating humans into doing what he wanted. Threatening. Blackmailing. Paying for services rendered. The idea that someone would do something for him simply because they wanted to was… unthinkable.
Then again, that was Shinra. The man was completely predictable in all other aspects of his life.
His job.
His love life.
But when it came to Izaya… honestly, Izaya had no idea what the doctor would do. He had taken a knife meant for Izaya back in high school. Who did that? And now, Izaya was starting to understand just a small part of how much time and effort Shinra had put into saving his life.
More than Izaya could repay, he was pretty sure of that and it made him uncomfortable.
I think… I think I should thank him…
"Ah.. Shinra…?"
"Hmm," Shinra muttered, poking harder than Izaya thought was strictly necessary at his ribs.
How am I supposed to do this? Gratefulness didn't come easily or naturally to him.
"Those are broken, you know," he said, smiling through gritted teeth.
"Mm," replied the doctor, absorbed in his work.
Ah forget it…
Finally appeased, Shinra cleaned and re-bandaged the stitches. He continued prodding at Izaya's arms, his shoulder and his head, a frown forming and deepening with each examination.
"Huh…" Shinra muttered to himself.
"What?" Izaya asked, finally unable to take it any longer, "What's wrong?"
"Well, strictly speaking, nothing is wrong…" Shinra said hesitantly, "it's just… you seem to be healing oddly… no, unnaturally fast. Not as fast as Celty, but at least as quickly as Shizuo…"
"Comparing me to monsters?" Izaya laughed. Shinra prodded his collarbone especially forcefully, making Izaya clench his teeth and hiss.
"Hm? Sorry, I didn't quite catch what you said, Izaya-kun," Shinra smiled, eyes hidden by the glare of his glasses.
"Ah, nothing important," Izaya replied, matching Shinra's smile.
"Well," Shinra concluded, picking up his instrument tray and moving back to the counter of the room, "I'm not sure why, but at this rate, you should be able to move around in another week or so."
"And this?" Izaya held up his splinted left arm. The sooner he could actually hold something, the happier he would be.
"You're lucky it was a very clean break to start with," Shinra told him.
"I'll be sure to thank Shizu-chan for that next time I see him," Izaya replied flatly.
"If it continues to heal this quickly I would say two weeks, maybe three more."
"The rest?" Izaya tried for casual, but knew Shinra could hear the almost desperate tone in his voice.
"Hard to say," the doctor replied slowly, "the fracture on your right arm was much more complex. Clavicle fractures tend to heal more slowly and your ribs… well… as long as there aren't any complications, you should be feeling pretty good within the next four to six months."
Months.
Four to six… months.
"I know it's not what you want to hear," Shinra sighed, "but really, it could have been a lot worse. "I had almost given up, but Shizuo… ah… nevermind." The doctor had Izaya's full attention now.
"Hm? What were you saying?"
"Ah, nothing," Shinra shrugged and headed for the door, "you should eat your udon before it gets cold."
Izaya glared at the retreating back of the doctor and then to his bowl of food on the nightstand. His gaze moved to the chopsticks and the spoon Shinra had provided.
"We meet again, table utensils."
-DRRR-
Shimono Hideki lounged next to the window, watching the soft flakes drift on the occasional puff of wind. He heard the telltale steps of his friend approaching him from behind. It was the sound Ren made when he was trying to be quiet.
"When was the last time it snowed in Ikebukuro, huh?" Ren announced loudly with a grin. Hideki knew he was hoping to startle him, so he ignored the man, continuing to gaze out the window.
"Four years," a soft voice answered Ren's mostly rhetoric question. Hideki glanced over to the third occupant of the room, Miyano Michiko, a petite, soft-spoken woman with dark hair and tidy glasses.
"That's our Michiko," Ren chuckled, "you probably know the last five years off the top of your head."
"2011, 2009, 2008, 2004 and 1998," she answered, not lifting her eyes from the soft glow of her laptop light. Ren gave a low whistle and even Hideki raised an eyebrow.
The door to the spacious office burst open and a short plump balding man strode through. He shook the snow from the umbrella he carried and set it aside, removing his coat, scarves and mittens.
"Miserable weather," he muttered, an odd accent to his voice.
"Normal for our situation," Michiko stated, not meeting his eyes.
"Mm, yes dear, I suppose," the man nodded, scanning the room, "good, good, everyone is here."
"Well Adams?" Ren asked, grin splitting his friendly features, "are you convinced?" The round man-Adams- frowned at Ren.
"I would appreciate if you would keep to the names chosen for this operation."
"Sure," Ren shrugged, "you're the boss, Kaito." Adams/Kaito flinched at the familiar use of his first name but didn't comment.
"Yes well…" Kaito smoothed his suit, set down his briefcase and settled into a recliner before addressing the group, "I have looked into this Heiwajima Shizuo and have concluded that you are correct." The last word was directed at Ren and seemed to physically pain Kaito to say.
"Ah, I can't take all the credit," Ren grinned, waving his hand dismissively, "Michiko did most of the work, actually. She's been watching him for years now."
"Ah!" Kaito's face broke into a pleasant smile as he turned to the quiet woman who had yet to look up from her computer screen, "Well, your hard work is very much appreciated Miyano-san. I hope Pithos can continue to count on you in the future when this is over."
Michiko gave the barest of nods, still not meeting anyone's eyes.
"Well, now that this matter with Heiwajima is settled, we can report in," Kaito nodded, "hopefully, Pandora will be located soon."
"Couldn't we just get Shizuo to help us?" Ren asked curiously, stretching out on the chocolate suede couch across from Kaito.
"We'll have to inform him soon," Kaito agreed, "but I'd like to hold off a little longer. Heiwajima is especially… violent."
"Normal," Michiko interrupted again, her quiet voice carrying surprisingly well.
"I've seen him, dear," Kaito answered in what Hideki thought was a rather condescending tone, "I'm sure the others were never this bad." Michiko didn't answer, though Hideki got the distinct impression she disagreed.
"So what's our next move?" Ren asked, yawning.
"For now, the three of you don't need to do anything," Kaito answered, eyeing Ren in particular, "I will continue to keep an eye on Heiwajima." Ren let out an exasperated sigh.
"I'm telling you, Kaito, me and Michiko have talked it over and we think the best way to find Pandora is if Azrael-"
Ren was abruptly interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing. He glanced over at Hideki who calmly pulled the cell from his pocket, checking the unfamiliar number, then answering.
"Hello."
"Ah… hello…. Is this… is this Shimono Hideki…?" A nervous sounding voice asked from the other side of the speaker, as if saying his name was a curse.
"Yes. Tell me who you are and how you have this number." Hideki spoke smoothly, ignoring the glaring look Kaito sent him and the shit-eating grin Ren was wearing.
"Ah… Well, I work for a company called Yodigiri Antiquities… you… you've worked for them before, right?"
"Yes."
"Uh… well, I have a job request for you. One of a more personal nature."
"How many."
"What?"
"How many people?" Hideki intoned flatly.
"Uh… just one."
"Dangerous?" He made sure to keep the hope out of his voice.
"Um… yes…"
"The pay?"
"Ten million?"
"I will meet you at the South exit of the Yodogiri warehouse tomorrow at 18:00. Bring the money and all the contact information you have."
"Ah! But-" Hideki snapped the phone shut, cutting off the nervous protest.
"New job?" Ren grinned. Hideki was pretty sure he just enjoyed the way Kaito was silently fuming. Then again, his friend was odd.
"Yes," Hideki agreed, "I'm afraid I have to go prepare for work. If you'll excuse me, Miyano-san, Ren," Hideki bowed to the former, nodded to the second and finally bowed to the round man fuming in the recliner. "Ono-sensei."
A/N: According to my outline this chapter was supposed to be longer yet, but I've been literally up all night writing and I have to be at work in an hour and what have I done I'm an idiot