Notes: Oh, I forgot to mention this in the previous chapters – 'hanged' is the grammatically correct past tense of 'to hang' when it refers to either a person hanging themselves (suicide) or being hanged as a form of execution. Just to clear that up in case the use bothered anyone if they thought it was incorrect.

Also, I've decided to write that 'superpowers' story. Just to give a little taster of what it will be about, I'm going to post the summary:

AU. Super powered government agents Heiwajima Shizuo and Orihara Izaya are partnered together on a relatively simple search-and-rescue mission. That is, it seems simple until Shizuo is given the instructions to permanently silence his partner…

Yes, I am shameless. But anyway, put me on your story alert list if you're interested in reading this because I'll probably be putting it up either during the last few chapters of this story or after this story is done. And it will be full of drama, action and tons and tons of angst. Oh, and a lot of Shizaya interaction, of course.

But anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Four

Izaya had spent the better part of about twenty minutes thinking over what he could do to try and escape. Sadly, even his highly developed thinking didn't seem to be very helpful in this situation, considering his lack of moving space, helpful tools or inability to do anything drastic without having several feet worth of dirt crush him.

The only tools he had at his disposal were a knife, a flashlight and a cell phone.

The cell phone so far was proving useless. He'd tried calling Nakamura in the hopes that he might either be able to manipulate him into changing his mind, or at least give away some hint about his location. The man hadn't picked up, probably having fun imagining Izaya desperately waiting at the other end for him to answer the call.

The only other person he could contact was being an asshole. He'd irritably carved a crude picture of Shizuo being chopped in half onto the wood in front of him in one of his calmer moments. This had made him laugh until he was breathless and then he'd begun to cough, and suddenly it hadn't seemed so funny anymore. He was really, truly dying and there was nothing he could do except slowly go mad.

His legs had begun cramping up painfully from the uncomfortable position he was in and no amount of twisting or turning would relieve him from the pain. That was the moment when he really began to despise his situation. He couldn't even reach down to massage his calf, which was throbbing painfully, because the coffin was too small.

A terrible itch had suddenly made itself known at the sole of his feet and now the pain and the burning were driving him absolutely insane. Almost even more so than the heat and after a few minutes he'd almost sobbed from the delirium caused by the horrific itching.

He was pretty sure he was losing his mind. It wasn't a familiar sensation – not being in control of the situation. He was helpless and he hated it.

The silence was suddenly broken by loud, blaring ringing and he shrieked uncharacteristically, jolting upwards. His forehead slammed into the wooden wall and he swore, stars appearing in his vision.

Ignoring the pain in his head he scrambled for his phone blindly and brought it to his ear, feeling dizzy.

"N-Nakamura-san?" he gasped, rubbing his forehead.

"No. It's…it's Shizuo."

It took about three seconds for Izaya to recover from the shock – Shizuo had called him back! – and form a coherent sentence. Despite the unimaginable relief coursing through his body he couldn't help but feel bitter.

"Ah, Shizu-chan. I see you've decided to grace me with your attention," he said sarcastically. "Did you call me back to mock me? Maybe kick me while I'm down or get a couple of shots in before I kick the bucket?" Inside he screamed at himself for being so stupid. A ray of hope was presenting itself and he was just batting it away, baiting the monster until he hung up again…permanently this time.

"No. I figured maybe this time you were telling the truth and really needed my help."

"Ah. So you're going to dangle the promise of rescue in front of me, then snatch it away at the last minute for some petty vengeance? That's not like you, Shizu-chan." He closed his eyes, feeling a current of self-loathing run through him. He couldn't stop the words escaping his lips. Shizuo had battered his already hurt ego by hanging up on him the first time and he needed some way to recover his pride. All he could do was hope that at some point self-preservation kicked in and shut him up before he indirectly caused his own demise.

He could almost hear the bodyguard's rising frustration at his lack of cooperation:

"Damn it, I'm trying to help you, flea! If you're going to be a dick, then I might as well just leave you-"

"No!"

Ah, there it was.

His outburst was met with a shocked silence and he took a shuddering, painful breath. He spoke:

"I woke up about half an hour ago in a coffin, buried underground somewhere. I can barely breathe, I can barely move, and all I have with me is this phone with your number on it. If you hang up I'll die…I'll suffocate…"

He bit back a sob, feeling the full force of the hopelessness of his situation as he exposed his fears to his worst enemy. It was downright humiliating, that's what it was. But there was no mocking laugh across the line, no words of satisfaction.

"A coffin." It wasn't a question. "What kind of sick psycho would…fuck…that's just-"

"My thoughts exactly," Izaya chuckled weakly.

"Do you know where you are? I could dig you out." He heard Shizuo shuffle around, his voice – although not eager to help – questioning and nervous.

"What? Just like that, Shizu-chan?"

"What the hell do you mean?"

"I would have expected to have to beg for your help. Maybe even offer you something worthwhile before you even considered helping me," Izaya said truthfully. This was why he hated Shizuo; he was just so damn unpredictable. He couldn't be manipulated, now matter how much Izaya tried. The informant could manipulate people around him, convince them to attack Shizuo, but he could never drag Shizuo into his 'games'. Instead he was forced to bring the 'games' to Shizuo.

Shizuo made a strange noise. "I'm not helping you flea. I'm going to find you, dig you out of there, and then beat you to death myself."

The informant rolled his eyes. "Nakamura-san didn't tell me where he buried me. He only gave me instructions that you were to go to my apartment, collect a suitcase full of money and deliver it to him as soon as possible."

"A suitcase? That's it?" Shizuo sounded baffled. Vaguely, Izaya realized that this was probably the only time they'd had a civil conversation – ignoring the grim topic – in all the years they had known each other.

"It's in my bedroom, on the top shelf of the closet. Once you find it, call me and I'll tell you the combination."

Shizuo grunted, and Izaya heard the sound of the door closing. He wasn't sure whether to hang up or remain on the phone. On one hand, the fact that Shizuo was on the other end of the line was enough to disgust him, but on the other hand he really didn't want to be alone. That would subject him to the torture of having to listen to his own breathing and attempt to calculate just how many more breaths he could possibly take.

Okay, maybe Shizuo was the lesser of two evils in this situation. Not that he'd let the monster know that.

"Do you know how much time you have left?" Shizuo asked suddenly, sounding unsure of himself. Izaya heard him calling for a taxi and sighed with relief, knowing that the man was doing something. "You said you woke up in the coffin. Do you know how long you were in there?"

"No…though I don't think it was very long. It's hot and suffocating in here, but I don't think I'm going to run out of air…yet," he answered matter-of-factly. Then his bitterness resurfaced. "I'm sure that the time you spent ignoring my calls didn't help my oxygen supply. But don't worry, Shizu-chan, I passed the time thinking about all my sins and the people I've hurt and what a terrible, terrible person I am."

There was only silence after his sarcastic remarks, and he could tell that his words had cut deep. It was obvious that Shizuo actually felt guilty for wasting so much time, especially now that he knew the situation the informant was in. He doubted that he actually cared about Izaya himself; it was more likely his conscience was weighing heavy on him for contributing to the possible death of another human being.

"Sorry for…not believing you the first time," the other man said, the words alien-like considering they were directed at him. No one ever apologized to Izaya.

"Ah yes, your apologies are almost as indispensable as oxygen. Maybe if you keep apologizing I'll live longer," Izaya hissed scathingly.

"You've spent your life manipulating everyone around you. How was I supposed to think you were telling the truth?"

"You think I would ever bruise my ego by asking for help from a lowlife Neanderthal unless it was necessary?" He could almost hear the phone cracking under the pressure of Shizuo's fist and he felt a twinge of fear.

"I should just leave you-"

"But you won't," he interrupted, sounding more confident than he felt. He wasn't really sure what Shizuo was going to do; the monster was always so damn unpredictable. "Your conscience won't let you."

A pause.

"Hehe, looks like I know you a little too well, eh, Shizu-chan? If I die…you'll feel guilty for the rest of your life. Because even though you hate me, you never really wanted me dead," he said. He heard a spluttering sound and chuckled as Shizuo struggled to deny his statement. "Please hurry up, Shizu-chan. It's hot in here."

He hung up, feeling a second of regret as suddenly he was plunged into that dreaded silence again. Just imagining the bodyguard's reaction at the other end was highly satisfying, but he wondered if he hadn't pushed the man too far. He just couldn't help the cruel words tumbling out of his mouth, straining their already unsteady alliance. It was just in his nature to push the other man's buttons, to piss him off to no end. And unfortunately this instinct seemed to override his desire to survive every once in a while.

It was strange, having Shizuo helping him, having the bodyguard feel something other than hate towards him. Not unpleasant, just strange. And what was even more curious? He didn't think he hated Shizuo either.

- 0 –

- 0 –

Shizuo kicked the door down with ease, barely putting any strength into his kick. He had his hands in his pockets, one wrapped around his cell phone, and a lighted cigarette in his mouth. Anyone else would have thought he was on a casual stroll rather than a mission to rescue his worst enemy. There was only the smallest amount of urgency in his movements. It didn't reflect the turmoil that was in his mind.

Currently his thoughts were racing and he could barely think straight. Images of the informant trapped in some tiny coffin completely in the dark kept flashing through his mind and he didn't know why it bothered him so much, just that it did. He didn't like the thought of anyone in that situation, but why was his heart racing and his chest hurting at the mere thought of Izaya's predicament?

He had a feeling that the guilt of leaving the man in the coffin for so long had something to do with it. He hadn't been able to handle the truth and had allowed his emotions to contradict his own actions. He knew that Izaya was a bastard, and yet when the informant proved him right he had gotten angry and abandoned him. It hadn't been fair of him to back the informant into a corner like that, and then get angry when he'd told the truth that Shizuo had been waiting to hear all along.

Stepping over the broken door, he entered the apartment, looking around. He heard a soft cough and turned his head towards the sound, noticing a woman standing next to the bookshelf. She was dressed in green and had a number of books in her arm.

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

"Namie. And you're Heiwajima Shizuo. What are you doing here?" She eyed the door with a raised eyebrow, seemingly unaffected by his strength. Shizuo recognized the name from when Shinra had mentioned her. She worked for Izaya.

"None of your business. Get out."

She stepped away from the bookshelf, placing the books on the desk near the window. "Izaya isn't here right now."

"I know that. I don't care."

She shrugged, grabbing her bag and leaving. Even though she didn't seem intimidated by him, he noticed she still walked a considerable distance from him when moving towards the door. She barely spared him a glance as she left and he waited until her footsteps could no longer be heard.

Once he found Izaya's bedroom he grabbed a chair and placed it next to the door, then began carelessly flinging out whatever was inside. He didn't put much effort into taking care of Izaya's things, merely threw them out behind him. Truth be told, the cruel words the man had said before still stung.

He pulled out several boxes and tossed them behind him, hearing a loud shattering sound. "Whoops." Then he finally found the safe in the corner of the shelf; all the other things had covered it.

He dialed the number of Izaya's phone. The safe required a 4-digit numeric code, which he couldn't even begin to guess.

Izaya answered immediately, of course. What the hell else would he be doing?

"Did you find the safe?"

"Yeah. What's the code?"

"6-8-2-3."

Shizuo pressed the numbers, wondering whether they meant anything to Izaya. He refrained from asking, deciding to allow that small privacy. "I kicked out your assistant, by the way. Or whatever she is."

"Namie? Did she-"

"What the fuck?" Shizuo said, interrupting the brunet. He reached inside the safe and pulled out a note sitting on top of the briefcase. The note contained an address and underneath it was written, 'Deliver the briefcase to this address.' Obviously Nakamura had written it.

"What? Is something wrong?" He could hear a waver of fear in Izaya's tone.

"There was a note in the safe telling me an address."

"Oh…weren't we expecting something like that?"

"If Nakamura managed to get into the fucking safe, why didn't he just take the money? Why go through all this? To piss me off?" he snapped. Izaya laughed harshly, condescendingly. Knowing that Izaya was mocking him in some way made Shizuo's blood boil. He didn't say anything though, knowing that if he lost his temper he would do something stupid.

"Don't you get it, Shizu-chan? This is all a game. Nakamura's doing this as revenge for what I did to him. The money's just an added bonus – something he'd take anyway once I died."

"I don't understand. Why bring me into this? What's the point of me delivering the money?"

"As a last blow to my ego he wanted to have me beg you for help. He probably thought you would just let me die."

Shizuo stilled, his hand reaching for the suitcase. He felt a stab of hurt at that remark. Did people really think that badly of him? Was he so much of a monster that people believed he'd just heartlessly let another human being die? Granted, he hadn't kept his hatred of Izaya a secret, but he would never stoop so low as to just leave him to die in such a horrific situation.

He pulled the suitcase out with more force than necessary and slammed the safe shut, wincing at the loud clang. He was pretty sure he'd just broken it. Worse still, Izaya must have heard it.

"Ah, you don't like what he said. Though I'm sure you can understand why he said such a thing."

"Shut up, flea. Just…shut up," he replied, his tone heavy with humiliation. He couldn't even figure out a good response and it wasn't like he could reach into the phone and punch Izaya. His chest was constricted and he just wanted to get this damn suitcase delivered and then go home and sleep. He was sick of feeling ashamed and guilty. He was sick of feeling like some…creature. "I get it – I'm a monster. You don't have to rub it in my face."

Izaya didn't reply and Shizuo barely gave a damn. He left the apartment and headed for the elevator. He was so caught up in his thoughts he nearly missed what Izaya said next:

"I guess that you're proving him wrong, then."

"Huh?" He frowned.

"Well, you didn't just leave me to die. You're helping me now, Shizu-chan, even though you hate me. So I guess that means…you aren't really a monster after all. I was wrong about you," Izaya said, his voice low. Shizuo frowned, feeling a strange fluttering in his stomach.

Was Izaya…comforting him? The informant had never been so kind to him; especially to the point of admitting he was wrong. He didn't sound sarcastic or mocking. And somehow the words made Shizuo feel good inside.

"Fl-I mean…Izaya," he began, licking his lips. The elevator doors opened and he stepped inside. He clutched the handle of the briefcase tightly. "Uh…thank you. For saying that."

Izaya laughed at this, a genuine laugh, and Shizuo's lips twitched when he realized how much he liked that sound.

"Shouldn't I be the one thanking you, Shizu-chan?"