Rai Rai Blue and grrlsvomitcandy- Well, don't get me wrong when I say I've considered putting smut in this. I'm just not sure how well it would fit in with the plot. Maybe if I get enough requests for it then I'll find some way to work it in ^^
The sun was shining, birds were singing, and someone was about to die.
Shizuo hadn't meant for those words to come out, they just tumbled from his lips without his discretion. Seeing the look on Izaya's face had him wishing he hadn't said anything at all. His mortal enemy recoiled as if he had been slapped, shocked and appalled by what was being said to him.
Izaya's eyes widened then narrowed into slits once the shock wore off and his hand, which had already been resting on his precious switchblade, buried the blade in Shizuo's shoulder. The wound was high enough for him to live but low enough for it to seem lethal. Maybe this would teach him to keep his nose out of other people's business.
But then again, nothing ever went right when the tall blonde was involved. Izaya could have everything planned out to the last second, but throw in Shizuo and things would get all kinds of fucked up. It was something Izaya adored and at the same time hated about his monster. He was fun compared to all of the boring little humans that he surrounded himself with. Shizuo was unpredictable. Exciting. Dangerous. For some reason that danger drew Izaya to him. At times he considered that he was masochistic, and that the injuries he sustained from their spats brought him pleasure. But the way he would scowl at every scratch Shizuo inflicted on him disproved that theory. Then he thought it was just for the pure adrenaline rush that got him off. Those chases made him feel so alive that it was absolutely exhilarating. His heart would start pounding the very second he saw the brute and before he knew it, they were wreaking havoc on their fair city.
Now though, his heart was racing from rage, making blood pound in his ears.
"Don't talk act like you know anything about my life, you filthy cur," Izaya hissed, punctuating his insult by driving the knife deeper. "You have no idea what I go through so stop pretending that you do. Keep that mongrel's nose of yours out of my business. Do you understand?"
Izaya hadn't noticed, but with every word his voice grew more shrill and weak. Then before he knew it, he was crying. Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks and didn't show any sign of stopping soon. The warm droplets hit the black fabric of Shizuo's pants when they fell, soaking through to seemingly scald his skin.
Shizuo was aware that he should be screaming in pain, but the sight of Izaya crying stunned him into silence. The raven's eyes were watery, and his lower lip trembled with the threat of sobbing uncontrollably. He never thought he'd see Izaya like this. But then again, he never thought he'd see Izaya try to commit suicide. For all he knew anything was possible.
"Izaya, it's okay. If you want help with your dad-" Shinra had started, but was cut off by an outburst from his sniffling friend.
"I don't need help!" he yelled, pulling back so that the knife came with him and flung blood across the concrete rooftop. "I've never needed help and I don't now!"
"But Izaya-"
"Shut up! Just stop talking!"
By this time Izaya had covered his ears, the sleeves on his jacket riding up so that long gashes were visible on his otherwise perfect skin. Old cuts mingled with new in a morbid display of instability. Shizuo and Shinra stared at the marks with eyes the size of saucers, unsure of what to say or do. They had always wondered why Izaya wore long sleeves no matter what the weather was like, and now they had their answer.
"I'm going home," Izaya said, breaking through the dead air. He wiped his eyes furiously with the back of his hand and made his way back down the stairs from which he came. Head hung low and voice shaken, his friends could see who and what he really was.
He was still a child at heart once you stripped away all of the sarcasm and biting remarks. Trauma had accelerated and stunted his mental growth. Izaya had intelligence that could put Albert Einstein to shame, but his emotional capacity was that of a young boy. He got mad when things didn't go his way, and normally he could suppress it just so he could escape a beating, but things had gotten so bad that he just lost control. Shizuo knew that control was something Izaya craved with every fiber of his being. So to have that wrenched away from him must have been tragic, enough so that he found it necessary to kill himself.
"Should we go get him?" Shizuo said, looking up at Shinra who had just been staring off down the stairwell. His shoulder had stopped bleeding, and never really hurt in the first place, so he could make that second on his list of priorities.
"After school," Shinra replied in a small voice. "We only have a few classes left. He'll be fine for that long."
The door was locked when Izaya reached his house, meaning his dad was at work if not gone on a business trip. And a simple glance at the calendar showed that he was indeed gone for the week. He thought with complete glee that things couldn't have worked out any better.
Kicking the door shut with his foot, Izaya walked to his room, shedding his jacket as he did so.
The chair at his desk creaked under his weight when he sat down. Izaya could only hear the sound of his switchblade longing into place as he snapped it open, though. It had blood already dried on it but he didn't care; through extensive research he had figured out that he and Shizuo had the same blood type so he had nothing to worry about when he made the first incision. He twitched slightly from the sharp pain but didn't make a sound. Dark beads of crimson bubbled up from the split skin, much to his pleasure.
He moved the knife to a new place, pressing down harder than before. Izaya bit back a yelp when he hit sinewy muscle. Blood was flowing freely now and he didn't bother stopping it. Instead, he moved to a new patch of skin. This time, he rocked the knife back and forth in a sawing motion in order to breach the wall of tendons beneath. He was more than successful. An attempt at moving his fingers was futile.
This pattern repeated once, twice, three, four times over before Izaya's vision began to swim. His arm was hanging limply at his side and the knife had long since been dropped to the floor from fatigue. As his eyes fluttered shut, he couldn't help but think of the hell he would get from staining he carpet so badly.
Feet hit the pavement with a vengeance, lungs fighting to take in enough oxygen to support their host. A new onslaught of rain was proving this to be more difficult than Shizuo and Shinra had originally thought. Still, the two ran on.
With chests heaving and bodies nothing if not numb, they dragged themselves up the several flights of stairs it took to reach Izaya's apartment. The door was closed but unlocked when Shinra tried the handle. Both boys exchanged a nervous look before venturing in.
The home seemed unnaturally dark due to the heavy clouds that had taken up residence in Ikebukuro. Rain slapped against the large glass windows and created a cacophony of unnerving sounds when accompanied by thunder and lightning. The scenery, coupled with the circumstances, was making Shizuo physically ill.
Shinra had already walked down a long hallway and paused at the only open door by the time Shizuo got over his stress-induced nausea. The small brunette swallowed hard, nervously, before nudging the door farther open with the toe of his shoe.
He gasped in horror while Shizuo cursed under his breath. Izaya was seated at his desk, the image of serenity aside from the blood that still dripped from his fingers. A dark pool had formed on the ground beneath him and made a disgusting squelching noise when Shinra tried to step closer to Izaya. His chest was moving but just barely. Shinra was flooded with hope.
"Shizuo," he called, voice cracking painfully. "Help me get him back to my house. If he loses any more blood…"
He didn't need to finish the sentence, and didn't particularly want to. They both knew what would happen. Izaya would die.
Shizuo lifted the body with a nod. He moved swiftly back to the door, locking it with one hand as he followed dutifully behind Shinra. It had been said that in times of struggle, people remember the most insignificant things, and go about doing them in an attempt at normality. Shizuo guessed that this was one of those times.
Three figures moved through the pouring rain on an otherwise deserted street, heading towards their destination with grim determination. None of them spoke, and one of them was simply unable to.
Beside him in bed was a sleeping boy, arm stitched and bandaged with an IV line stuck into the vein. Never in his life did Shizuo think his own blood would be used to keep Izaya alive. Hell, he didn't even know they had the same blood type. But there they were, Shizuo doing everything in his power to save this life, while Izaya did whatever he could to end it. It made the blonde think long and hard about things that he hadn't previously considered. What would he do if Izaya wasn't around? He thought that he would have been able to live a peaceful life but now he couldn't imagine it. Why was Izaya such a dick all the time? It wasn't his fault, it was his father's. The final question made him numb with anxiety. It tangled up his heart strings and sent his mind reeling. Why did he hate Izaya? He was too scared to feel anything else for him.
"It's late. You should probably get home," came the solemn words from Shinra. He had changed into pajamas, making Shizuo realize that he'd been sitting at the side of this little cot for more than three hours.
"Yeah," was all he could manage in the way of replies.
"You can come see him tomorrow if you want," Shinra told him. The light caught his glasses in a way that hid how red his eyes were, but he knew that he had cried for a good ten minutes after Celty asked what had happened.
"Yeah," Shizuo said again. "I'll do that."
Long chapter is long ._. I was going to cut it down in size and break things up but it seemed a lot more dramatic in one big goliath of a chapter. Hope you guys enjoy it, cause I was sick at home all day writing it and listening to more motherfuckin' Dustin O'Halloran. He has a song for everything. God I love him.
And I just want to reiterate how much I love when you guys review, and to thank you for doing that and for following. All of my sappy, mushy, heartfelt words go out to you 3
~Chickadee
