Wow! Internet cookie for me writing this in one day? ^^ Yes, I confess, my publishing caught up to where I had written, so...I was forced to write more if I wanted to publish something, today. Yee! Thanks for reading, guys. This'll probably be the last chapter, and I'll be posting an epilogue sometime later in the week. Yip, yip!

Shizuo was slightly wary. He didn't want to risk the ghost mistaking his identity again, but he needed answers. "Couldn't you have, you know, changed sides? I'm sure the British or the States would have given you asylum in exchange for your help."

Zola smiled, bitterly, and turned his head away, giving Shizuo an unwelcome view of the self inflicted wound that had killed him. He seemed more settled, anyway, and to his relief, the spirit now recognized that Shizuo and Vincent were, in fact, two different people. "There seemed little point in defecting."

"Yeah, except they were on the winning side..." Shizuo muttered. "And you would have lived."

"It would have been impossible to prove my treason, I hide my tracks, well," Zola said, simply. "And I did not wish to live in a world without him."

"But...I don't think he died..." Shizuo spoke, carefully. The ghost beside him shrugged.

"What we were, was dead. He would never have forgiven me."

"You don't know that!" Shizuo barked, sharply. Zola startled, and blinked at him. "You're a freaking moron! You never even gave him a chance! You just threw money at him and expected that to be enough!"

"Because it would have been better to drag him down with me?" Zola shot back, fiercely, and Shizuo felt the air around him compressing. He quickly decided he'd better get his temper under check. This was a spirit he was not sure he could best, inhuman strength or not. "I made my choice! Can you honestly tell me that you would have done differently?"

"You could have explained what you were trying to do..." Shizuo mumbled, looking away. "You could have just been honest..."

Zola smiled a smile that looked anything but happy. "And if I had, do you think I would have persuaded him otherwise?"

"...No..." As much as it pained him to admit it, they were probably doomed from the start. Shizuo couldn't imagine Vincent's home country being too pleased when they found out he'd run off with a Nazi. Though he did not fight on their side, it would still lend itself toward aiding the enemy, if for nothing else than the simple fact he was not turning Zola over to the authorities.

"You remind me of him, a great deal," Zola whispered. "He promised he'd always love me, no matter what... I wish...things could have been different."

"He does love you!" At the confused look he received, Shizuo grit his teeth and clenched his fists. "Things will be different!"

"How?"

"I'm going to find Vincent, alive or not, and make him forgive you!" Zola's eyes grew large, before an indulgent smile spread across his face. "What? You don't believe me?" Shizuo demanded. He took both of the ghost's cold, thin shoulders in his hands and gripped them, firmly. "I promise that I'll find him and tell him the truth! I'll make this right, but you have to do something for me!"

"And what is that?" Zola queried, more than a little perplexed at the blonde's behavior.

"You have to let my friend out of the curse!"

"The what, now?"

"The curse!" Shizuo insisted. "The one on your violin! It kills anyone who owns it because of all the bad feelings you imprinted on it, and I want your promise that you won't let it hurt my friend!"

"Ah, the one you protected from before?" Zola smiled, knowingly. Shizuo blushed a little, but he tried to keep his serious bearing. Zola chuckled at his face and narrowed his eyes. "You have one month."

Shizuo let out the breath he'd been holding with a large and goofy smile. "Thank you!" he said, sincerely, hugging the ghost tightly to his chest. "And I will help you! You have my word!"

Zola smiled nostalgically at the contact, and lightly patted his elbow. "You really are a kind person, aren't you?" he said, softly.

Shizuo didn't reply, but continued to hold the dead man close to him, trying to impart whatever feelings of good will he could into the chilly, black soul, until he, too, faded away into the darkness. Suddenly, Shizuo felt a falling sensation and a familiar impact, and he knew he was back in his body in the physical world once more.

"I'm telling you, he needs CPR! Stand aside; I'm a trained proffessional!"

"His breathing is FINE! Touch him, and you will die!"

"Please, both of you! I no can concentrate with you yelling so much!"

"Why hasn't he woken up, yet? You're the most useless witch, ever!"

"Don't talk to my aunt like that, dolboeb!"

"Oh, I'm so insulted, blyadischa!"

"Gasp! How do you know Russian?"

"I'd know what to call you in ANY language!"

"QUIET! NOW!"

Shizuo groaned at the barrage of noise assaulting his ears upon his waking, and the room immediately fell silent. The peace didn't last long.

"Shizuo? Shizuo! Can you hear me?" Izaya panicked, and the still foggy headed, blonde man became aware of an intense choking sensation.

"Eeeargh..." was about all he could gargle in reply. He felt the death grip around his head and neck loosen, and hazily blinked up at Izaya's face, which was right in front of his, and he was not smiling. Relief flashed across his eyes for a brief moment, before the look quickly turned to one of barely bridled rage. Almost mechanically, Izaya let Shizuo's head fall off his lap on to the floor with a thud, and quickly rose.

"Shizu-chan! Welcome back!" he smiled...evilly.

Shizuo winced at the new lump on his head and slowly sat up, having quite forgot about his previous actions before he passed out. He blinked at Izaya in confusion for a moment, letting out a loud "oomph!" as the informant proceeded to step on, rather than over, him, digging the heel of his shoe into his lower belly and dangerously close to something else. It was about then, he finally remembered. "Oh, boy..." he muttered, realizing he might have sabotaged any chance of every being more than friends with the currently very pissed off informant standing before him. Never mind the reasons behind it, going and kissing someone else, even if that someone was dead, wasn't exactly a good precursor to, "hey! wanna go out?" And even worse, now Izaya would assume he had lied about not being in love with the no longer living man. "Umm, look,...About what I did..."

"You made out with a ghost!" Izaya and Shizuo both flinched at Vorona's exclamation. "You must be insane!"

"There was a reason!" Shizuo quickly tried to defend.

"Oh, do tell! I'm sure your explanation will be absolutely fascinating!" Izaya sounded excited for all the wrong reasons, and Shizuo felt impending doom creeping upon him.

"Well, we had to do something! He was about to completely destroy the place! And it was the only thing I could think of that I was pretty sure would work!"

"Oh, yes, of course! Silly me!" Izaya laughed in a high pitch, before grabbing his coat and the violin.

"Why do you even care, anyway?" Shizuo asked, frustration coloring his voice as he trailed after the hastily leaving man. "Why should I have to answer to you for anything I do? You're acting like we're...we're-"

"Boyfriends? Aren't you two a couple?" Vorona asked. She looked very confused.

"Nope!" Izaya spun on his heels, after giving Shizuo a poignant look. "I would think that was obvious!" And with that, he left. Shizuo blinked at the empty doorway and heaved a long and heavy sigh, before turning back to Anja and Vorona.

"Thank you for your help, Anja. I think I know what we have to do, now. Sorry about your house."

"No worry, Shizuo!" Anja smiled, giving him a firm hug. "I glad we help! You always welcome here!"

"Yeah, you, but not your boyfriend!" Vorona clarified. Shizuo just sighed again, as he shook her hand.

"He's really not my boyfriend..." he said, somewhat regretfully as he started towards the door. After a thought, he paused and looked over his shoulder at the two women. "Yet!" he added, with a sly smile. Vorona blinked at him, as Anja burst out laughing.

"Oh, Shizuo!" she breathed between her chuckles. "Maybe I not such bad fortune teller, after all! I still see beautiful, raven haired beauty in your future!"

Shizuo laughed, as he opened the door. "If the beauty will forgive the beast, maybe," he said, before closing the door behind him. Forgiveness... It seemed to be a common theme, lately, and as Shizuo looked about for the informant and saw no one, he knew he was going to find the concept quite challenging. He called Izaya's cell phone, but no one answered, and he growled, irritably, all but forcing himself to stop from throwing the stupid thing into the ground. Izaya could be quite the jealous bugger! Shizuo wondered, as he walked to a nearby park, why he'd never noticed it before. What did that mean, exactly? Did that mean that Izaya actually liked him...romantically? The thought sent a jolt through his body, and he gave a little shake and rolled out his shoulders with a large and silly grin. Maybe this wasn't going to be as difficult as he had thought! Well, there was still the whole curse thing to be dealt with, but nothing had seemed as insurmountable as his unrequited love. He sat down on a park bench, dreaming about the possibilities of the future, the smile on his face only getting wider and wider.

"Well, you seem awfully happy!" Izaya had appeared beside him after it had grown dark, as he sat there, grinning like a complete idiot.

"I am!" Shizuo said matter-of-factly, throwing his arm across the back of the park bench and lighting a cigarette, inhaling deeply. "I have a plan!"

"About the curse?" Izaya asked.

"About everything! But I need your help, cause we only got a month. What do you say, flea?" he grinned, leaving the cigarette in his mouth and extending his hand. "Ready for life to get back to normal, again?"

Izaya looked as if he were studying his hand for a moment, and Shizuo could see his reddish eyes sparkling with a rekindled curiosity. After all, he hadn't heard everything that Shizuo had experienced while he was blacked out yet, and the blonde man guessed that it was the main reason for his appearance, now. It never mattered how irate the informant got, his curiosity would always eclipse it, and Shizuo couldn't help but find that kind of cute. He finally took his hand in a firm shake with a smile. "Neanderthals do need constant supervision. What did you have in mind?"

Shizuo laughed and gave his shoulder a slap. "Come on. I'll walk home with you and tell you on the way." They walked slowly through the dimly lit streets as Shizuo told him every detail. He especially emphasized just how unpleasant the icy sting of death that traveled through him during the kiss was, making it sound absolutely anything but sexy. Izaya had thrown back his head and laughed at that, and it made Shizuo smile. He then interjected that Shizuo really needed to find other ways to travel to the past other than going comatose...as it was most inconvenient. Shizuo just shook his head and continued on. Things quickly grew somber again, as he neared the end of the story. Finishing with the deal he and the spirit struck right before he woke up, they both sat in silence for a moment, as Izaya fully absorbed the tragedy. "Zola needs Vincent's forgiveness. I really believe this will all go away once he gets it."

"And you think he went back to America? To Tennessee?"

"If I were him, that's what I would have done. I doubt he stayed in that area, once he recovered, and you know he really seemed to like the idea of having a ranch. We've got a month to track him down, so that's the first place I would look."

"Let's see," Izaya thought out loud as they neared the building he lived in. "If Mr. Scott, or whatever his last name is now, is still alive, he'd be over 90 years old."

"It's unlikely he's still alive," Shizuo conceded, "But even if we can just find his grave sight, it will be better than nothing."

"I'll start searching the archives of every major city in the state to see if any large tracts of land were purchased around that time frame, outright. I have a feeling those jewels were probably still waiting for him when he got back to his room." Izaya smiled as they approached the main doors, which quickly slid open. "And just think! You wouldn't have to kiss him again if Vincent were there, neh?" he chuckled. "Since it was so unpleasant and all!" Shizuo favored him with a somewhat sultry look, which made the informant stop laughing and stare at him, almost fearfully.

"The only consolation," Shizuo clarified, without breaking eye contact, "was that he looked like you." And with that, he walked away, leaving Izaya utterly speechless, for once.

Getting a passport proved to be a very lengthy and frustrating process. It took two weeks just for his application to be processed, and the blonde man was ready to just swim across the ocean to California before it finally arrived in the mail. Luckily, during that time, Izaya had tracked down a few land purchases that looked as if they fit the bill, and was even pleased to find one was made by a Vinnie Reynolds, who happened to still be alive and living in the area, though the ranch had long since been sold. That sounded like as good a bet as any, and as soon as Shizuo had a passport, Izaya booked tickets for the next flight out to Los Angeles, and from there to Nashville.

During the time they spent waiting and on the flight over, Izaya tried to help Shizuo brush up on his English skills. He wasn't completely ignorant of the language, but it had been a long time since he'd been forced to use it. It was so easy to understand in his dreams, but unfortunately, that seemed to only be because Vincent understood it. Now, it just sounded like gibberish, again. Luckily, Izaya was fluent in several languages, English being one of them, so he didn't have to worry about losing too much time just trying to navigate the foreign land and culture. Still, he didn't want to be completely out of the loop whenever Izaya spoke to someone. And besides, it was kind of fun getting English lessons from the flea. To Shizuo's delight, his parting words that night they came home from Anja's had seemed to have a lasting effect on Izaya. The informant barely looked him in the eye, but seemed to always be staring at him every time Shizuo turned away. And his sinister smirks and playful Cheshire grins had been momentarily replaced by a look of almost extreme concentration, as if he were trying to solve a puzzle, constantly, in his mind. Every now and then, his true personality would peak through, but all it would take was a direct look or accidental touch from Shizuo to send the informant back into a deep and introspective silence. And he stuttered a lot whenever he first met Shizuo for the day or was saying goodbye, and to the blonde man's amazement, he also blushed a great deal more, and seemingly, at every little thing he did. And now as they sat in the, thankfully, spacious seats of the airplane, Shizuo threw down his English phrase book and tapped Izaya, who'd been texting furiously on one of his phones, on the shoulder, the sudden contact making the informant leap high enough to almost smack his head against the ceiling. This, of course, brought on another round of furious blushing, and Shizuo chuckled.

"Jumpy little flea!" he teased, tousling his hair. This earned him a brief glare from Izaya, who quickly looked out the window.

"What?" he said, flatly.

"Nothing. Tired of studying this bull shit." Shizuo waived the small book around before tucking it into a seat pocket. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Were you working?"

Izaya shook his head. "Celty keeps texting me. She's very curious about our little adventure. I told her I'll keep her posted."

"That's kind of you," Shizuo raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Well," Izaya smiled in a familiarly sly way, "She is the most reliable courier in the city, after all. I can't see how it would hurt to remain on semi-good terms with her."

"Can I see what she said?" Shizuo asked, reaching for his phone. "I wanna talk to her, too!"

To his surprise, the phone quickly vanished somewhere within Izaya's coat. "Certainly not! Use your own phone, Shizu-chan!"

Shizuo frowned. "But my phone's almost dead, and besides, yours has that nifty, key pad, thingy."

Izaya sighed, dramatically, and whisked the phone out of his coat. Typing a few buttons, quickly, he handed the phone over to Shizuo. "There you are. Happy?"

Shizuo blinked at the last message on the screen. "I'm putting Shizuo on the phone, now."

"You had to warn her?" He asked, with a grin. "What were you two really talking about?"

"Nothing a neanderthal need be concerned with!" Izaya sniffed, making as if he were about to try to sleep, even though Shizuo could tell he was starting to get flustered.

"That's fine. I'll just ask her," Shizuo shrugged, as he began typing. Faster than a cobra striking, Izaya plucked the phone from his hand and once again made it disappear.

"Phone privileges revoked," he announced, curling into a tight ball on the seat and facing the opposite way. Shizuo just cracked up, again. For once, he was having a great deal of fun playing this little game. When he could finally tell from the steady rise and fall of Izaya's back that he was no longer pretending, and actually asleep, he gently rested his hand on top of his dark hair and pet him, gently, which earned an appreciative cooing sound from the sleeping informant. Shizuo smiled. Izaya still liked being pet, but everything else was changing. Their dynamic was changing. They'd both been slightly overstepping the boundary of more than just friends for a while, now, but still had yet to take that final plunge. It was odd. Sometimes, Shizuo thought they were so much like Vincent and Zola, it was scary, but those two had certainly known what they'd wanted from the moment they laid eyes on each other. Shizuo couldn't help but be a little jealous. Even so, as he slowly ran his fingers through Izaya's soft and fine hair, he couldn't help but admit that this was pretty nice, too. Their journey to the same end might have been taking a little longer, but that didn't mean Shizuo wasn't enjoying every second of it. He hoped Izaya felt the same, as he dozed off, his hand still resting on the informant back. At the sudden lack of petting, Izaya flipped over in his sleep, and edged closer to the warm body in the other seat, nuzzling his head into Shizuo's side. A flight attendant paused as she walked by, and hugged her hands to her chest in awe.

"They're just so cute!" she whispered to herself, fiercely. Looking about, she took an extra blanket from an overhead bin, and gently placed it over the slumbering men. She then drew her phone out of her pocket and was about to snap their picture, but just as she was about to take it, she saw Izaya's eyes pop open on the screen and fix on her, a sinister smirk spreading across his face. She startled, and apologized, profusely with a bow before making a hasty retreat. Satisfied that he was still quite intimidating, Izaya looked up at Shizuo, who was still snoring away, and smiled, somewhat hopelessly. With a small shrug, he nestled back down under the blanket and leaned his head against the taller man's side once more, feeling quite comfortable. Together, they slept for most of the time until the plane touched down.

As soon as they were outside the Nashville airport, Shizuo immediately lit a cigarette as they waited for the rental car. Letting his eyes roll to the back of his head in relief, he let the sweet feeling of nicotine slowly wash over him with a contented sigh. Izaya clucked his tongue at him.

"Shizu-chan, if it came down to saving my life, but never smoking again, I think you'd choose the cancer sticks," he tsked.

"Well, let's hope it never comes to that, flea!" Shizuo grinned, taking another long drag. Izaya rolled his eyes and checked his watch.

"They're taking forever. The car was supposed to be here when we stepped off the plane," he grumbled, tapping his foot.

"How are we getting a rental car, anyway?" Shizuo wondered. "Don't you have to have a driver's license?"

Izaya grinned, quickly producing a new and shiny, completely legal looking, international driver's license. Shizuo took it in his hand, blinking at the insane smile the informant had donned for the photo. "You don't even have a car! Do I even want to know how you got this?" he demanded. Izaya laughed, maniacally, and placed the card back in his wallet. Shizuo just frowned. "We're going to die, aren't we?" he said, rubbing his eyes, wearily.

"That's a terrible thing to say, Shizu-chan! How do you know I'm a bad driver if you've never even driven with me?"

"You've never driven at all! That's how I know!" Shizuo yelled.

"Shh!" Izaya hissed, at the loud display. This wasn't Ikebukuro and they were already attracting enough stares from the local yocals. Thank god Shizuo was at least wearing some of the newer, more normal clothes he had bought for him. Izaya doubted they would have ever made it through security if he'd been wandering about the airport in a bar tending uniform and shades. As if to finally save them from themselves, the rental car appeared, a light pink, Chevy Malibu, and Izaya quickly confirmed his information with the rental associate, as Shizuo gaped at the vehicle.

"What the hell kind of car is this?"

"I didn't pick the color, Shizu-chan. Just get in," Izaya smiled, twirling the keys about on his finger. Shizuo's eyebrow arched high into the air, as he ground his cigarette out with his shoe.

"This is not the impression I wanted to give Americans of myself," he muttered, as he slid into the plush seat.

"It's the impression we were both giving them, anyway," Izaya assured him, as he threw the violin in the back seat and started the engine.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just buckle up, and hold on."

"Wait, what? AAH-!"

The tires squealed, as Izaya pressed the pedal to the floor, and they violently sped forward. Shizuo leaned as far back into the seat as possible, gripping the side door so tightly, his fingers began sinking into the plastic. "Would you slow the FUCK down!" he screeched, shutting his eyes and bracing himself as Izaya narrowly avoided yet another slow moving car.

"Would you relax, Shizu-chan? I have everything completely under control."

Shizuo doubted it, as a group of pedestrians crossing the street lept out of the way just in time. Izaya seemed to think giving the horn two quick honks was warning enough of his speedy approach.

"You're going to kill someone!" Shizuo warned, shutting his eyes again, as they quickly approached a row of stopped cars at a traffic light. Izaya's solution to this was to simply ride the curb and go around them, maneuvering through the crossing traffic, and sending cars veering off to the side in every direction.

"Then they need to move," Izaya reasoned. "After all, this car is fully equipped with a bumper, and that's what it's for."

"No it's NOT!"

"Oh, Shizu-chan," Izaya sighed, as he turned a complete 180 to catch the ramp to the interstate, "You shouldn't get so excited. It's not good for the blood pressure."

Shizuo looked up to see them quickly approaching a road completely jam packed with cars, which Izaya seemed to have no intention of slowing down to merge into, and just shut his eyes, again. "I DON'T WANT TO DIE!"

"Ugh! So dramatic!" Izaya exclaimed, as he slammed on the breaks, sending the car drifting sideways into a small opening in the traffic. They finally came to a stop, and Shizuo practically melted into a puddle in his seat. "See? We're going slow. Happy now?"

"God, YES!" Shizuo breathed, his heart nearly beating out of his chest. Izaya laughed as he slowly inched the car forward.

"You should have seen the look on your face!" he said, gleefully. "It was quite the sight!"

"Glad you think scaring the shit out of me is so entertaining," Shizuo grumbled, as he shakily lit another cigarette.

"Uh-uh, Shizu-chan!" Izaya chided, pointing to the no smoking sticker on the side window.

Shizuo just let out a stream of smoke into Izaya's face, which made the informant choke. "I'm pretty sure they're going to be a little more concerned over the dented rims and scuffed paint." Izaya just wrinkled his nose at him.

"That deer just came out of nowhere. There wasn't time to stop."

"What deer?"

"The one we're going to tell the insurance company about."

"...You're terrible."

"But you like me, anyway," Izaya pointed out, pretending to study the road. Shizuo regarded him silently, grinned, and turned back to his own window, taking another drag off his cigarette.

"Yeah..." he conceded, deciding to let it go. Izaya just made an awkward coughing sound in response, his face slightly red.

"As soon as this traffic clears up, it won't take to long to get there," he told him, changing the subject. "Have you thought about what we're going to say to him?"

"Just the truth," Shizuo shrugged. "What else is there to say? He'll be happier for knowing."

"What if he doesn't want to hear it?" Izaya's voice was laced with worry. "What if he doesn't even remember?"

"Let's just see when we get there," Shizuo smiled, comfortingly. "Don't worry about it." Izaya glanced over at him, mirroring the smile, though it was still nervous, and they rode in silence for a while. Truthfully, Shizuo was a little worried, himself, and the feeling only compounded as Izaya took an nondescript looking exit, and turned down a long drive a short time later. He just kept reminding himself that if he were Vincent, he would want to know. The car eventually rolled to a stop in front of a simple, two story, yellow house, with an American flag fluttering on the corner of the garage. Izaya turned the key, and looked at Shizuo. Shizuo returned the look and tried to put on his most confident smile. "Here goes nothing!" he said, cheerily, and got out the car. Izaya did the same, and they immediately heard a dog barking, angrily, from behind the privacy fence enclosing the back yard. A little put off by the hostile greeting, Shizuo cleared his throat and started down the front walkway, Izaya following close behind, carrying the violin. They reached a white door, inlaid with an oval of frosted glass and Shizuo reached forward and rang the doorbell. They both immediately heard the pattering of steps, and saw a diminutive form quickly approach the door, yanking it open. Looking down, they met eyes with a small boy, not more than five, with a shock of blonde hair and large, brown eyes. He stared up at them, blankly.

"Well, hello there!" Izaya tried his best to put on a...nice smile, as he spoke in English. "We're looking for Mr. Reynolds. Is he at home?" The child said nothing, and continued to stare at them with large, round eyes. Izaya blinked, and tried again. "How about your parents?" he asked. "Can we please speak to them?" When he was met with more silence, Izaya's eyes began to narrow. "My, my! Cat got your tongue?" he asked, hiding his irritation behind a sinister smile. Shizuo didn't get the idiom, but he did see that the boy now looked absolutely terrified and as if he'd burst into tears at any minute. He was practically shrinking away from Izaya's awful smile.

"Really, flea?" Shizuo raised his eyebrows. Izaya groaned and shot him an annoyed look.

"I hate kids!"

"Cause you don't know how to speak to them."

"And you do?"

"Stand aside!" Shizuo crouched down until he was eye level, and removed his sunglasses. He smiled, until the little boy, slowly, began to smile back. "Hi," Shizuo said, in his normal tone of voice. His English wasn't nearly as perfect as Izaya's but his demeanor was warm and friendly.

"H-hi," the boy replied.

"I am Shizuo, and the guy that looks like a rat is Izaya," he jerked his thumb upwards, and the boy laughed. Izaya just rolled his eyes. "Can we speak to your mom or dad?"

The boy nodded, enthusiastically, and dipped back his head. "MAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOM!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. Izaya and Shizuo both jumped and resisted the urge to cover their ears.

"Matthew! What on earth are- Oh! Hi, there!" a plump, but kind looking woman in a long skirt and red sweater quickly appeared behind the child. "I'm so sorry for wasting your time, but we really don't want anything," she said, as she began to close the door. Shizuo stuck his foot in the doorway, and she opened it with a slightly annoyed and confused expression.

"Wait-" Shizuo began, trying hard to find the right words in English, but taking far too long to do it.

"We're not selling anything," Izaya interjected. "We're here to see a Mr. Reynolds. It's very urgent that we speak to him."

"Do you mean my grandfather?" she asked, completely perplexed. Izaya quickly sized up her age.

"Yes."

"Why in heaven's name would...you two want to speak to him?" she demanded, her hands on her hips.

"It involves your grandfather's role in the war," Izaya began.

"Look, if you're seeking some seriously belated revenge, I hate to be the one to tell you, but my grandfather was never in the war."

"Ah, but you're wrong about that! He was, indeed," Izaya corrected. "We have a message to deliver, so if you'd be so kind?"

"I don't know who you think you are-!"

"Please, lady, er ma'am," Shizuo tried. "It is very important, something that he really needs to know!"

"Well, you can't see him! He's very ill and not receiving any visitors!"

"We'll just wait until he's better, then," Izaya smiled, tightly.

"No, you'll leave, now, before I call the cops!"

"What are 'cops'?" Shizuo whispered in his native tongue.

Before Izaya could answer and the woman could slam the door on his foot, there came a clattering from the next room over and the rattling of another door.

"Woman! What's with all the racket!" a still thunderous voice, boomed through the house, though it turned to coughing a moment later. The boy looked at the startled adults with a bit of a mischievousness grin.

"Uh oh!" he warned them, quickly escaping to the outside.

"It's nothing, Grandad! Go back to bed!" the woman hollered.

"Like hell I will! How about you stop ordering me around and answer my damn question, before I come smack you upside your silly head!"

The woman rolled her eyes and glared at the two foreigners before her. Izaya looked to Shizuo for confirmation, and received a decisive nod in reply. He'd know that voice anywhere, no matter how much it had aged. "Mr. Vincent Scott!" Izaya called, before the granddaughter could speak, again. "My friend and I have traveled many miles to speak with you! May we have a moment?"

There was a deafening silence, and both Shizuo and Izaya held their breath.

"Mary, show them in!" was their answer, as the door slammed shut. Mary, sighed heavily, and waved them inside.

"I apologize for my rudeness," she said, sounding really anything but sorry. "He can be quite a handful, sometimes, and taking care of him is no easy task!"

"Thank you for your hospitality," Shizuo offered, glad he had that line tucked away in his memory, at least.

"No, no, I was rude. I didn't think you were both telling the truth, though I have no idea who this Vincent Scott person is," she said, as she led them to the bedroom door. "He's in here. You two go on, and I'll fetch you all something to drink. What would you like? Tea? Green tea?" she guessed.

"Coffee, will be fine," Izaya smiled, with a bit of a wince. "And my friend would appreciate a lot of sugar and cream in his."

"Alright then," she nodded with a smile, grateful that they asked for something she was comfortable with making. With a nod, she opened the door and showed them in. It was a bright and sunny room, with cream colored walls adorned with pictures, and shelves full of old knickknacks from across the globe. A fan spun slowly over the old, antique double bed, upon which sat an elderly man, dressed in suspenders and a long sleeved, button up shirt. He wore a tweed cap, and squinted to look at them, inhaling deeply from the tube affixed to his nose from a nearby oxygen concentrator. His hair was thick, but now a silvery grey, and although his skin was wrinkled, and his form somewhat diminished, there was no mistaking that this was the same boisterous and headstrong American, who had been in Cairo all those years ago. Shoving a small laptop and stand to the side, he reached for his spectacles.

"Give me just a damn minute," he muttered. "Eyes aren't what they used to be."

"Please, take your time!" Izaya quickly said, suddenly jumping behind Shizuo, as if for protection. "In fact, maybe it's best you don't put on your glasses at all."

"Now what kind of nonsense is that?" Vinnie, or rather Vincent asked, genuine amusement shining through his tired eyes. "I'm curious to get a look at the chaps who know me by my old name! And you sound like young fellows, too!" he laughed, before it turned into a fit of coughing. After he'd regained his breath once again, Vincent placed the glasses on the bridge of his nose and looked at them. He blinked at Shizuo's appearance, a bit surprised, before bursting out laughing. Shizuo grinned, nervously, not really knowing what to say. "Well, I'll be damned! You're Japanese, aren't you? But you know? You look a lot like I did when I was young! Ha! I'll be damned! What brings you and your little friend, who's hiding behind you like I'm gonna hit him or somethin', to my door? What's that you're carrying, lad? Is that a...?"

"It's a violin..." Izaya confirmed, still unwilling to show himself from behind Shizuo.

"Just tell him," Shizuo whispered. Izaya swallowed the lump in his throat.

"My name is Izaya Orihara, and this is Shizuo Heiwajima. You'll have to forgive us for showing up without any warning, Mr. Scott, but it's kind of important. It's about when you were in Cairo, and also...it's about this violin. I think...I think you might remember it?"

Vincent's face became very grave, and he inhaled, deeply. "Indeed..." he said, now studying the case. "I remember it well... Why have you brought it all the way here?"

"Well, the thing is, and this is going to sound completely insane-"

"I already think you're insane!" Vincent interjected, with a stomp of his foot. "Would you stop hiding behind...what's your face...Shizuo like some damn coward, and talk to me face to face!"

"I don't want to upset you," Izaya said, carefully.

"Boy, you're upsetting me, now!"

"Go on," Shizuo urged.

"He's going to try and hit me!" Izaya whispered back. "...or worse!"

"Let's just get this over with," Shizuo encouraged. With a deep breath, he stepped out from behind his protector, and raised his head high. Vincent went white as a sheet, and he rose from his seat on the bed.

"It can't be..." he whispered, taking a hesistant step forward. "You look... You look like..."

"Cousins," Shizuo explained.

"Twice removed," Izaya added. "But Mr. Scott, that's not why we're here."

Vincent sunk slowly back into his bed, looking as if he were about to keel over and die at any moment. At that time, Mary opened the door with a tray full of cups, almost dropping them when she saw her grandfather's face. "Grandad! Are you alright?"

"Leave us, Mary..." the old man's voice was barely above a whisper.

"Grandad, are these men upsetting you?" she challenged, setting down the tray on a nearby stand and looking as if she wanted to punch both of them in the nose.

"I said LEAVE!" Everyone startled, and Mary said nothing more. With a warning look, she quietly closed the door, leaving them alone, once more. "Now, young man," Vincent narrowed his eyes and Izaya's face grew pale. "Tell me what you came to say."

"It's about Zola," Vincent winced as if he'd been struck when he said the name. "About that day, when you were captured. Do you remembered what happened that day, Mr. Scott?"

"I've spent my whole life trying to forget," Vincent smiled, weakly, and they could both see tears gathering in his eyes. "But no, I have not forgotten. One doesn't forget something like that, no matter how many memories we try to replace it with."

"What happened?" Shizuo asked, suddenly curious to hear Vincent's side to the end of the story. Vincent took a deep breath, blinking back the tears in his eyes.

"Well, I had a friend. A very special friend, or so I thought," the last part came out in a voice so small, they both had to strain to hear. "But he's was on the wrong side, and his work killed a lot of my friends, and... He just couldn't stop. He couldn't leave it, so he chose to leave me, instead!" his voice started to rise in anger. "I knew it was foolishness! I knew it, but I was young, and stupid, and I wanted so badly for it to be true! Charlie was right! That selfish little flea didn't even know what it meant to love! He cast me aside so easily! I was their prisoner, and he said...well dammit! I'm not gonna say what he said, but it was pretty, fucking awful! And then he just disappeared! And I never saw him again! I woke up in some god-forsaken, British field hospital, completely chewed up from all the bombs, and then I packed up everything I owned and came back here! And I lived my damn life! A good one! Without him!" he rose from his seat once more, and pointed an accusing finger at Izaya as if he were yelling at the man he spoke of, himself. "I didn't need him! Just like he didn't need me!"

"But that is not really true..." Shizuo said, quietly. He was already picking up on the long buried vibes of despair and loneliness. "And he did not betray you."

"And what the hell would you know about it!" Vincent refocused his rage on him now, making Shizuo blanch a bit.

"Because...I saw what happened," he confessed. Vincent regarded him, warily, as he sat back down.

"I need a damn cup of coffee..." he muttered. Shizuo quickly fetched him one from the tray, and the old man brought the cup shakily to his lips before setting it aside, next to his computer.

"I know it's hard to believe," Izaya started again, since he was the better English speaker, "But Shizuo's not lying. He's a medium, of sorts. He can see things that happened in the past, visions, if you will. And with this violin, he was able to see what happened that day." For emphasis, Izaya removed the old instrument from its case. Vincent's eyes lit up with recognition, and he stared at it the entire time Izaya retold the story. "Surely, the Nazis would have invaded Cairo if not for your friend," Izaya explained. "He may have gone there with the intent of being a spy at first, but he changed. You changed him."

"If that's true, then why did he leave me?" Vincent asked, sadly, looking down at his hands.

"He didn't want you to be wrapped up in the aftermath of his war crimes," Izaya tried to explain.

"I wouldn't have cared!" Vincent declared, fiercely. Shizuo and Izaya both smiled at each other.

"I think he knew that...and that's why he tried to leave the way he did," Izaya said, softly.

Vincent kept his gaze cast downward for a long time, before finally raising his head, again. "So, saying your story is true," he began, "Why'd you come all the way here just to tell me that?"

"Because, you've got to forgive him," Izaya told him.

"Like hell, I do!"

"Please!" Shizuo persisted. "The violin, there is a curse!"

"A what?" Vincent arched his eyebrow.

Izaya breathed deeply. "Whoever gains ownership of Zola's violin ends up dying a tragic death."

Vincent burst out laughing, much to their surprise. "That's the dumbest thing I ever heard!" he roared, before coughing again. "And you two have wasted quite enough of my time! Thanks for the nice story. It'd be just dandy if it were true, eh?"

"How else could you explain us knowing all we do?" Izaya asked, a little angrily.

"I dunno...the internet?"

"I can assure you, the internet proved to be very useless in this endeavor!" Izaya yelled.

"Well, damn, boy, I don't know! But I don't believe it! Not for a second!"

"Come on, Vin-vin!" Izaya huffed, completely exasperated, "Why would we lie about something like this, really?"

"...What did you just call me?"

"Yeah, what did you just call him?" Shizuo reiterated in Japanese, a little irritated. He didn't like Izaya using pet names with other people. Izaya startled, not even realizing he'd let the nick name slip. Then, the obvious thing to do finally struck him.

"If you don't believe us now," he said, taking out the bow and tightening the bow strings, "Perhaps this will change your mind." Vincent coughed and looked curiously at the informant, as he nestled the instrument under his chin. Shizuo just smiled as the familiar notes began to fill the room. Izaya had told him what the song was on the way over. It was from Chopin, a Nocturne for the piano and violin, but of course, Zola had only ever played the violin portion. He told him it was one of the many songs Chopin wrote, because he longed for the home he'd left behind. It seemed fitting, in a way, that it was only half the song, and Shizuo felt that in the end, Zola played it to try to reach out to the other half of his heart, just as Izaya was playing it now to reach out to Vincent. And reach him, he did. At the sound of their song from decades ago, tears began to stream down his weathered cheeks, and his head hung lower and lower, until his hat slipped and fell to the ground. Shizuo could feel him rediscovering his overwhelming fondness for the original player, and all the feelings he'd tried so hard to extinguish in his heart. Eventually, Izaya finished the song, and slowly lowered the violin back down. The room was gravely silent, except for the quiet sobs that escaped the old and frail man's lips, even as he strove to hide them by covering his face with his gnarled hands.

"Zola..." he cried softly into his palms. "I forgive you... I forgive you!"

All at once, the windows and door flew open, and the sunlight flashed, momentarily blinding. The sound of the violin once again filled everyone's ears, and as soon as he could see again, Shizuo turned to Izaya, expecting that the informant was the one playing again. To his surprise, and the shock of everyone there, he was merely staring at the violin in his hands as an unseen source continued to fill the room with music. It wasn't the same song. It sounded...happy! The three men looked around the light flooded room in complete astonishment, as the playing only grew more sonorous and joyous. The walls trembled at the vibrant sound, and Mary came rushing into the room in a panic, with little Matthew following closely behind.

"What on earth is going on, here?" she tried to speak over the sound filling the room, but received no answer. As the notes reached a crescendo, the sound became almost deafening, and the light seemed to reflect the song's gusto, as it danced wildly across the room, ending in another bright flash.

"Mom, look!" the child had regained his sight first, and pointed toward one of the open windows.

"Oh, my god!" the woman immediately shielded the child and backed away from the figure that now stood before all of them. Vincent shakily rose to his feet and took a hesitant step forward, and Shizuo looked down at Izaya, who was practically beaming, before turning back to take in the beautiful sight. It was Zola, but not the Zola they had summoned before. All of the anger and bitterness had washed away, leaving him as Vincent remembered. Gone was the oppressive clothing of the Regime, and he wore a flowing, white desert robe in their stead, slowly pulling the equally white scarf away from his face. His deep blue eyes shined brightly, and even his white and now unmarred skin seemed to radiate a soft glow.

"That song was for you," he winked, smiling warmly. Vincent could all but stagger one foot in front of the other toward the perfect vision, dragging his oxygen machine along, behind him.

"Zola," he whispered, almost breathless, before standing up straight and grinning. "Heh! Stupid sand flea!" he laughed, tears rolling down his face. "That's not our song!"

"It's our new song," Zola affirmed, as he stretched out his hand. "Vin-vin, will you come with me, this time?" he asked, his face alight with a radiant smile. Vincent shook his head and cocked it to the side.

"As if you have to ask!" he half laughed, half cried, before taking his hand. As soon as their fingers touched, Vincent's face grew youthful once more, and all the grey faded away leaving the familiar blonde. He pulled Zola forward, and hugged him tightly. "All this time..." he cried, burying his face into the nape of his neck, "All this time, I didn't know!"

Zola smiled and pressed his lips against his ear. "Thank you for forgiving me," he whispered. "Let's go, now, together."

"Forever!" Vincent affirmed, hugging him even more tightly.

Over the blonde man's shoulder, Zola locked eyes with Izaya and Shizuo. "Thank you..." he mouthed, before separating from Vincent long enough to grip hands with him, as the light began to envelope both of their bodies. "Oh, and by the way," he smirked at them from the corner of his eye, just as they were about to fade away, "there never was any curse on that violin."

"Wait, WHAT?" Izaya cried, and then they were gone.