The next morning was warm. The sun had slunk up early to heat up the city with its golden light, bathing the buildings and the streets and the people in a delightful wash of heat. The sky was clear with only a faint dusting of white clouds streaking across the expanse of blue like birds hovering on the breeze. The streets were already crowded, filled with gangs of people in smart suits or school uniforms or casual clothes, on their way to work or to school or some kind of social meeting that morning. The trains were already dashing to all corners of Tokyo, carting these people around as if nothing else mattered. It was a hive of life, a gaggle of activity, and it wasn't even noon yet. The early bird always catches the worm, and that sentiment was never truer than in a place like Ikebukuro.
Shizuo Heiwajima woke up early, to the sound of his alarm clock on the bedside table next to where he slept. The offending item quickly ended up getting a swift bash to its head to stop its ringing, adding yet another dent to the top where Shizuo turned the thing off every morning. It wouldn't be long before it was refusing to work properly and he'd have to go and buy a new one that hadn't yet had to deal with his violence in the early morning light. The blonde growled, choking back a yawn as he swung out of bed, still half asleep and lost in the dream world that he had left behind.
He hadn't gone to bed until late, though normally he slept early after a final cigarette and a glass of milk, because of the simple fact that he had found someone to talk to. Nakura, the man supposedly from Shinjuku that Shizuo had emailed. The two had exchanged a handful of them now, with Shizuo still just as lost in what he was meant to say or how he was meant to react, a fact that Nakura seemed to be delighting over. There was a glee, a certain charm, to the words of the other man that even Shizuo couldn't miss, couldn't be drawn in by. Heh, the idea was hilarious. In his life, he'd always denied feelings like this. He'd never let himself focus on attraction to another man because it just wouldn't work, not because of him being a man too, but because nobody could love him, could they? Shizuo Heiwajima was a monster. And here was Nakura, this man, apparently wanting to know more about Shizuo, apparently thinking that maybe Shizuo could be the love he was searching for; that was why he was here, right? That was why they were both here. So the two had stayed up, chatting about mundane things like work – where Shizuo had found out this man was an insurance broker and had lied about his work and simply said he was a loan officer or something – or things they liked or the city of Tokyo itself. Nothing personal, nothing deep, just surface things, and yet Shizuo already felt like this man who he'd never even met knew him better than anyone ever had. Ha.
The blonde shook away the sleep still hovering over him as best he could, heading to the wardrobe to pull on one of the many uniforms that Kasuka Heiwajima had bought for him years ago. It wasn't his profession anymore, but Shizuo wouldn't turn down the kindness of his brother, the brother that he loved dearly, even if he never admitted it or really saw the younger Heiwajima. Tom would be around to knock on his door soon, ready to lead Shizuo off to their first client of the day; some scumbag from the underworld who didn't understand that it was time to pay up already, some scumbag that Shizuo would end up tossing across the city if he said the least annoying thing. Most of them did though; they didn't seem to understand that just by keeping their mouths shut they could avoid that happening. That was the easiest way to reason with Shizuo, just don't be an ass and he'd keep his cool. Still, he wasn't going to quit his job just because he happened to run into jackasses so often. Tom had given it to him, Tom hadn't run away from his curse of strength, he had embraced it, something that Shizuo himself had never even managed; Tom had found a way for Shizuo to make use of it and had even managed to form a friendship with the grouchy blonde to an extent. Shizuo had always been grateful for that, he had always been grateful that Tom never seemed to mention it either, never seemed to mention his brother, he was grateful that Tom seemed to know what set him off and what topics of conversation to avoid. Tch, if only the rest of the city were like Tom. How much easier his life would be then.
Shizuo made his way through the apartment, grabbing another box of cigarettes to stuff into one of his pockets to keep him going throughout the day. His computer was switched off, he'd bid Nakura good night a few hours earlier, and he passed it with a quick glance as he headed for the kitchen. The fridge was mostly empty, filled with bottles of milk and a few bare essentials, but Shizuo managed to grab a carton of juice, drinking it straight before tossing the empty thing into the bin. He didn't bother with breakfast, never did, knowing that he would probably just eat something later in the day or stop by Simon's to get dinner when Tom was done with him for the day. His body was so good at fixing itself that Shizuo never really bothered to take care of it, because it always seemed to do it for him. He never bothered to look after himself that much, only eating when his stomach growled at him for food. It wasn't that Shizuo needed someone to make him take care of himself, or even particularly wanted one, his own health was just something that wasn't too high up on his priorities list. Never had been; even as a boy when his body had been as weak as they came.
The knock at the door came a few minutes later, and Shizuo headed to answer it without a pause, pushing his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose as he walked.
"Morning," Tom offered the blonde when he opened the door, tucking his hands into the pockets of his trousers. Shizuo grunted out a response, stepping outside of his apartment. The door shut behind him, and the two headed off towards the streets of Ikebukuro for the day, ready for work. Tom was chatting the whole way there, informing Shizuo on the clients they'd be visiting that day and what to expect from them and exchanging small talk with the blonde. For once, Shizuo formed words in response, where normally he had merely grunted out low hums in reply. Tom noticed the change, but made no comment on it, continuing to chat like the two normally did.
The sun was out, and the day was warm. Maybe, just maybe, today would be a good day after all.