Notes: I have a quick question for my readers. Would anybody be interested in reading a Durarara superhero/supervillain story? Because I'm thinking of writing one (obviously a Shizaya story) and want to know what you guys think. It would be multi-chaptered and with quite a bit of angst – but also a mix of other things. Anyone like the thought?

Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter Two

"I'm guessing that you called your contact?"

Nakamura's voice was clearly amused, which made Izaya scowl.

After about twenty seconds of glaring at his phone and wondering what to do next, Izaya had gone to his received calls and called Nakamura's number, fuming from the indignity of the man's actions.

Forced to ask help from that…from that…caveman was mortifying.

"Putting Shizu-chan as my only contact is a little unfair, don't you think, Nakamura-san?" he said, struggling to keep his voice casual. No matter how bad this became, no matter how little hope he had left, he wouldn't show Nakamura that he'd been broken. He would remain unnaturally polite and cheerful when he was speaking with Nakamura, and when he was alone then he would go mad.

"My game, my rules. If you want to live, then you have to convince him to help you."

"How can I? Shizu-chan is a monster, and monsters don't listen to reason."

"I don't care what he is, Orihara-san. If he doesn't bring me the money soon, you will rot in that box. If anyone besides him brings me the money, you will rot in that box. If he calls the police, you will rot in that box. Do you see what I'm saying?"

"It's a little hard to misunderstand," Izaya muttered, clenching his jaw in frustration. He shifted, the heat of the box making him feel even more claustrophobic than before. "You set this up so I would die, didn't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've made it impossible for me to escape. You know Shizuo hates me with a passion and wouldn't help me in a million years. You know he's going to leave me to die and you're counting on it. It wouldn't be proper vengeance if I lived, after all."

Nakamura was silent for an impossibly long time and Izaya wondered if he just wasn't going to answer. Finally, when the man spoke, his voice was strangely serious:

"You never know. Maybe he'll surprise you."

Then the line cut off and Izaya was left alone, with only the light of the phone to illuminate the box he was lying in, trapped. He'd turned off the flashlight to save the battery, but now he clutched it with trembling fingers and turned it on, feeling only slightly comforted by the light.

He couldn't escape this. Sure, Izaya had a lot of pride and in most circumstances he would refuse to relinquish said pride. But in times like these, self-preservation seemed to take over and all he could think about was the fact that he was trapped in what could very well be his grave. Perhaps it wasn't even the thought of death, but the manner of death that scared him. A bullet to the head was quick, painless. But suffocation was not. The hours of anticipation and the slow build-up of carbon dioxide were not a part of what Izaya would consider a pleasant and peaceful passing.

So if he wanted to avoid that dreary fate he would have to suck it up and call the one person he hated the most.

Finally, he resigned himself to an ego crushing conversation and called Shizuo.

- 0 –

- 0 –

The phone was ringing again. He glanced at it as it vibrated, the screen flashing. He picked it up and frowned, realizing that it was the same unknown caller who'd hung up a few minutes ago. He considered just letting the phone ring until they gave up, annoyed by their previous conversation.

Instead he sighed, pressing the call button and holding it to his ear.

"Tell me who you are or I'll hang up again," he warned gruffly. He wasn't in the mood for games.

"Ahhh, always so rude and impatient, Shizu-chan. Politeness is a virtue, you know," a teasing voice replied. His blood went cold and he froze, that oh-so-familiar rage bubbling up inside him.

He gritted his teeth, standing up and yelling:

"How the hell did you get this number, flea?" He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rising in anger.

"That is irrelevant, Shizu-chan. But I can tell you that I did not actively try to acquire this number. I was given it by…an old enemy."

"Who?" Shizuo snarled, making a mental note to kill whoever this was. Being manipulated by Izaya was bad enough, but to have someone else in on their "game" was unbearable.

"If I told you, then you'd go into a blind rage and hunt them down and then you wouldn't be able to listen to what I have to tell you."

"Yeah? What the hell makes you think I'd listen to you anyway?"

"Aren't you curious as to why I called you?"

Shizuo was silent, his fury diminishing slightly. Until this moment he hadn't cared why Izaya had called him. He'd only imagined reaching across the line, wrapping his fingers around Izaya's neck and strangling him to death. The pleasant image calmed him slightly and he smirked.

Now that Izaya mentioned it, why was he calling Shizuo? It was probably just to cause him trouble, but this wasn't like the flea's usual methods of pissing him off.

He hesitated, not sure if he wanted to hear the flea's reasons. This was probably just some screwed up game designed to make his life miserable, knowing Izaya. He grimaced, urging himself to hang up the phone, but ultimately he couldn't bring himself to do it. He wanted to know.

"Shizu-chaaaaan. Say something. Your silence is boring me."

"Why are you calling me? What game are you playing?" he growled, annoyed by Izaya's tone. "I told you to stay out of my life, and keep me out of your sick, manipulative games, you stupid flea."

"You're right, this is a game, but this time I'm not the puppet master. Sadly, I find myself to be one of the victims being manipulated by someone more powerful than myself. At least, only for the moment." Was it his imagination or did Izaya's breathing sound a little loud, like he was trying and failing to control himself? "And believe me, it was not my choice to involve you in all this. If I needed help, my first option wouldn't have been a brutish protozoan lacking half a brain."

He roared, kicking his coffee table so hard it flew into the wall opposite. He could faintly hear the shocked screams of his neighbors as the table crashed into the wall and splintered, a wooden mess. The table was followed by his fist, which punched a hole in the wall and sent the plaster crumbling to the ground.

Frustrated that Izaya wasn't here for him to take his anger out on, he gripped his head, snarling.

"Ah, haha, Shizu-chan calm down. No need to get so worked up, haha," Izaya said. If the bodyguard had been any calmer he would have noticed that the informant's tone had become nervous and his words were almost pleading. He didn't hear the wavering in his voice or the light fear, otherwise he would have stopped in his rage. As it was, he was seeing red, infuriated by Izaya's insult and all he could think about was killing his enemy.

"You bastard! I swear I'm going to go to your apartment and break both of your legs!"

"You do that; it's not like you'll find me there anyway. I'm not in my apartment."

"I'm going to fucking kill you, you little flea!"

"Do whatever you want, Shizu-chan. Just don't break your phone and don't hang up." His tone was completely serious and caught the other man completely off guard. He couldn't imagine why Izaya was so adamant for him to stay on the phone. "Your number is the only one I can call."

"What? What the hell are you talking about?" Shizuo snapped, no longer pissed off. This conversation had taken a very confusing turn and he wasn't sure he was keeping up with it properly. Izaya was being too cryptic for his tastes and if he didn't explain himself soon, he would just hang up; he was getting tired of this game very fast.

"Well, you see, I'm currently in a…precarious situation."

"Meaning?"

"I'm being held hostage…somewhat, by someone who I've managed to piss off in the past. They wanted revenge and I'm now currently trapped with a phone that doesn't work. The only person who I can call is you or my captor. And I highly doubt my kidnapper would be willing to help me out of my predicament. So, unfortunately for me, the only person who can help me is you," Izaya explained, obviously gritting his teeth. Shizuo felt a twinge of pleasure knowing how much it pained the flea to ask for his help and, before he could help himself, laughter bubbled up inside of him and escaped his lips.

He could hear an angry hiss as he laughed, highly amused at Izaya's situation. He could just imagine Izaya sitting in some cell, legs chained to the wall with nothing but a cell phone that would only dial his worst enemy's number. The image was hilarious and for a few seconds he couldn't contain his laughter, ignoring the tense, furious silence on the other side of the line.

When he finally finished, he heard Izaya snarl, "Are you done with your laughing now, you dumb brute?"

"Ahaha…don't insult me, Izaya. I'm the only one who can help you right now," Shizuo mocked, face split in half from his grin. He reached forward for his cigarettes, popping one out of the pack and putting it in between his lips.

"There's nothing funny about this situation. Nothing at all."

"I find it hilarious that you're getting what you deserve. Finally someone you manipulated came back for a little revenge and you're getting a taste of your own medicine. I don't think I've ever laughed so hard," he said, lighting his cigarette. He put his legs up on the couch, enjoying this conversation and no longer feeling the need to crack his phone in half.

"Oh I assure you, Shizuo, I have never subjected anyone to what I'm going through right now-"

"No, you've probably done much worse, being the lousy bastard you are."

There was a pause and Izaya made a strangled sound, something between a laugh and a sob. The sound made Shizuo frown and sit up slightly, wondering if he'd misread the situation. Maybe this was worse than he'd suspected and Izaya just wasn't telling him the full truth. He wasn't sure how he'd feel if Izaya were actually in danger. It's not like he cared about the flea. But it didn't mean he wanted him tortured and killed.

The only person allowed to kill Izaya was himself.

"Are you going to help me, Shizu-chan?"

Shizuo thought for a second, playing with the idea. He was curious about the situation and kind of wanted to know the extent of this so-called "game", even though it sounded dangerous. Mostly he wanted to know why Izaya's voice was shaking as he spoke, and why his breathing sounded so harsh and loud over the line.

"I will, if you tell me one thing."

"What? And hurry up, I want to get out of this place as soon as possible. I miss the comfort of my luxurious apartment, which you couldn't afford in a million years, by the way."

"Aha, I'm going to ignore that for now. I'll break your face when I find you…but no, I want you to tell me what you did to deserve this."

"Eh?"

"I want to know what you did that finally came back and bit you in the ass," Shizuo said, taking a drag from his cigarette.

Izaya had fucked over a lot of people, had manipulated almost everyone around him and would not hesitate to ruin the lives of anyone who associated with him. So who had finally decided to one-up him? What had he done that would merit something as bad as being captured and forced to demand the help of his most hated enemy?

Shizuo wasn't expecting anything particularly exciting. Many people Izaya associated with, he assumed, would probably have little regard for how much a life was worth. He'd heard of men so powerful they would shoot a human being simply for saying one thing out of line. He never wanted to meet a man like that, but he was sure that Izaya knew several.

"…and if I tell you…you'll help me?"

"Yeah. That's all I want to know. Spill, or I hang up this phone right now."

"His name is Daichi Nakamura," Izaya said, before pausing and obviously cursing himself for answering so quickly. He had just revealed how desperate he was to Shizuo, who said nothing even though it was a perfect opportunity to mock him. "He was the head of one of the biggest drug dealing businesses in Shinjuku and I've sold him several bits of information in the past, mostly concerning his rivals."

A drug dealer. Of course.

"A few months ago a group of his men defected and disappeared. Nakamura demanded I tell him where they were but I told him that I didn't know. He had no idea that they were in fact paying me to keep their hiding place a secret and were planning to overthrow him and ruin his business. They also paid me to give them information about Nakamura and his dealings. Everything I knew – which was everything they needed. A couple of weeks ago they walked straight into his warehouses and slaughtered every single one of his men and left alive those they had been conspiring with all along."

Shizuo felt his jaw tighten, thinking of the bloodshed. So many humans, slaughtered like they didn't matter. Sure, they were drug dealers, but he still didn't think that mass murder was the answer to anything.

"Nakamura was left alive – to humiliate him, you see. The men took the drugs and left the city to go establish their own business, leaving his in tatters. From what I heard later on, Nakamura lost all of his money and his home. He was forced to send his children to go live with his parents and about two weeks after the incident his wife, Hana Nakamura, hanged herself."

He could feel the vein in his temple throbbing.

"She died?" he hissed, clutching the phone tightly. "Izaaayaaaaaaaaaa-"

"Oi, it wasn't like I knew she'd kill herself. I did nothing wrong-"

"Except you sold the information leading to Nakamura's downfall and his wife killing herself."

"He was a drug dealer and a bad man-"

"But his wife wasn't, I'll bet," Shizuo snarled, standing up and seeing a dark red mist creep into the edges of his vision. "I'll bet she was a perfectly nice woman up until the moment she hanged herself, you sick bastard."

"Shizu-chan, calm down, the phone, don't break the-"

"Shut up about the phone!"

"You said you'd help me, you promised-"

"Yeah, well, I lied. I wouldn't help you, even if you were on the brink of death," he said, then hung up. He went to change into his bartender suit and left his apartment, heading down to get something to eat.

He left his phone on the couch, not even sparing it a second glance.

- 0 -

- 0 -

Please review. I love hearing feedback.