I'm not a bad person. I'm not a bad person. I'm not a bad person.
Shizuo's lips silently uttered these words subconsciously whenever the flea walked by. Shizuo would usually shove his nose into a text book or doodle cubes in his notes, flinching away from that menacing aura on the somehow smug form. The real part that twisted his veins into tightly coiled springs of rage was the fact that Izaya would challenge him. The challenges were small at first, but quickly grew out of control. Shizuo faced expulsion numerous times and barely was able to graduate. At some points, he felt as if his life was being threatened by the multiple gangs constantly swarming him.
And yet Izaya was always grinning like the Cheshire Cat whenever they came face to face. Did he even remember? Why else would he be making Shizuo's life into a living hell?
"It's simple," The blonde grimaced at the nickname. They stood in the empty hallway, Shinra standing by the raven's side. Shizuo's fist was raised up to Izaya's porcelain face, ready to strike. He swore he could pick up an undertone of bitterness whenever the familiar nickname was uttered. "I just hate you, Shizu-chan."
I'm not a bad person.
Shinra never noticed. He found enjoyment in the twos' constant to-the-death battles. If he had known the real reason, Shizuo highly doubted he would have felt the same way.
Celty, however, always noticed that something was off with her friend whenever the future-informant came around. Izaya was naturally an extremely sarcastic person to everyone he came across. Shizuo was no exception, of course, but the sarcasm quickly became spiteful around him. Shizuo often acted off as well. His adamant and sure-footed nature somehow morphed into denial upon the sight of the flea. Perhaps, she told herself, she was only imagining it.
Aside from her, everyone passed it off as mutual and unreasonable hatred.
Even Kasuka.
The younger of the two brothers was the reason Shizuo always continued on. He was the reason his father was now rotting in prison. Thanks to his large fortune after becoming a popular children's movie star the years before, he and their useless mother were finally able to afford a lawyer for Shizuo. But no, even he never knew about Izaya.
Shizuo had never told a soul and swore to himself he never would. Was it out of shame for himself? He didn't like contemplating about anything relating to Izaya.
"...I hate you too, you fucking flea," the neanderthal growled. Their narrowed eyes burned into each other for a split second before they both walked away. A conflicted Shinra looked back and forth between both of them and, letting out a disappointed whimper at the lack of violence, scurried after Shizuo.
"You two should try to get along," the future doctor nagged, swinging his school bag beside him as Shizuo neared their apartment complex. The brunette was met with a grunt rather than a goodbye and the blonde walked a little quicker than needed to the elevator that led to his floor.
Shizuo and Shinra's apartment complex was just outside the city limits, but was still within walking distance of the school. Shizuo's room had not been remodeled since the day he moved in with his foster parents two years ago. Model airplanes hung from the off-white, textured ceiling and the walls were painted baby blue. Even when he first arrived and saw the room, he grimaced.
He had just turned 13 when he came, and the last thing he wanted was to remember his youth. The youth that he'd never had, anyway.
He slung down his bag to the beige carpet and collapsed onto his overly-stuffed mattress. His arms rested behind his head and he studied the ceiling fan. He was finally safe. The small, mostly empty bedroom was his sanctuary; the only bed he knew that didn't smell of blood and musk and shame.
~...~
Then came the day that would haunt Shizuo for many years. Ten years, to be exact. It would be the day when a fraction of his doubt would be split open. It was the day when the ugly truth would rear up its ugly head once more.
Shizuo had been staring out the window of his room, watching small rivulets of water slide down the freshly cleaned glass. The black cell phone sitting on his computer desk buzzed and he sauntered over to check it. The lit-up screen revealed an annoying picture of Shinra sticking out his tongue at the viewer, which the doctor put on their while Shizuo had been sleeping. The blonde's thumb pressed the 'view' button.
I can't find Izaya. No one can. He didn't show up at his house late night and his parents are going crazy. Did you finally manage kill him?
The strong hand holding the device nearly crushed it. Why the hell did this guy think Shizuo gave any shit about the creature that haunted him at all times? The teen set the phone down, deciding to ignore the useless question and get ready for school.
It was still dark and cold morning dew still glazed the freshly trimmed grass that was planted in front of the school. Shizuo always arrived this early; no one else would arrive for another two hours. The school locker room was the only safe haven in the school for him; he'd never seen the flea enter it once.
His school boots tapped against the tile floors of the hallway, the sound echoing off the painted cinder block walls. He stopped at his locker and dumped his school work form the night before inside, then slammed the metal door shut. He turned in the direction of the locker room and froze. His eyes were glued to the ground a few paces ahead, where a few droplets of blood formed a trail towards his destination.
He passed it off as a nosebleed the janitor failed to mop up the night before and sauntered into the damp, dirty boys' room. The eerie sound of a leaky shower head was always there to relax the brute. He spread his body out on the nearest bench and put his hands behind his head.
A sudden clank of metal and shuffling coming from the dark entrance leading to the shower area caused Shizuo to startle into a sitting position. His eyes narrows and his brows creased. This was supposed to be his spot, he growled in his mind, growing mildly annoyed.
He remained quiet, curious to see who could be trespassing in his den. He waited for a while, but no one emerged from the pitch black section of the locker room.
He slowly started to settle back down. Not even a minute later, he felt a gust brush by his head and he shot up. He halted, freezing at the sight of Izaya, who was also frozen in place in front of him, switchblade in hand.
"Flea!" he shouted, scrambling to his feet. He took a good look at his tormentor and clenched his fists. There was that dreaded smirk.
Despite acting completely normal, the raven looked a little disheveled. There were bags under his eyes from lack of sleep and his hair was scrambled. He didn't look the least bit startled at Shizuo's outburst.
"What a pleasant surprise," the other male finally cooed, shoving his hands into his pants pockets as far as they would go.
"Can it, pest." Shizuo stepped forward, Izaya stepped back. That's how it always went. A distance between their bodies ways always kept. and nothing would break that barrier for the next ten years. "The fuck are you doing here?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you claimed this spot."
"Did you stay here all night?" Shizuo suddenly remembered Shinra's text. Izaya's dark, neatly trimmed eyebrow perked questioningly, as if wondering how such a neanderthal could piece that together.
"Why would you think that, Shizu-chan?" he replied caustically. "Aw, were you worried about little, helpless Izaya?" The raven's eyes challenged Shizuo's soul, which they stared at through the blonde's hazel orbs. His lips peeled back into a smirk, revealing his teeth.
Little, helpless Izaya.
Shizuo suddenly felt nauseous, but he willed himself not to stagger or lean towards the nearest trashcan. There was silence as the brute fumbled with the thoughts circulating in his brain.
"Go kill yourself," he growled finally, making himself sound as menacing as possible although his heart was racing. This was the longest conversation they had ever shared with one another before all hell would break loose.
Izaya took the blow readily. He shot back a quick reply that seemed to have lowered his voice just above a whisper.
"I died a long time ago, Shizu-chan."
Why are you killing me? What did I do, Shizu-chan...
Izaya had turned and left at that, one flickblade-wielding hand leaving his pocket and swinging at his side as he did so. Usually, Shizuo would have been relieved at the flea's departure, but he remained frozen in shock as the repressed flashback returned back to him. He threw himself at the trashcan and heaved.
It was the first time his facade had been broken. There wasn't a shred of confusion any longer. Shizuo was being pricked by thousands of Izaya's thorns, and he now knew that this was Izaya's intention. But part of him now knew he deserved every last blow the flea would throw at him.
The teen pulled back from the stench now leaving the brim of the can and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. He put his back against the empty, blank wall and slid down until his bum hit the cold, tile floor. He brought his knees to his chest and finally snapped. He wept silently, choking back sobs even though he knew no one could hear them.
Little did Shizuo know, Izaya had let his walls crumble the night before. For the blonde, the familiar droplets of blood that had followed his tormentor out the door remained a mystery.