Author's Note: Just a quick update today - but I'll be posting two chapters tomorrow and those will both be long & filled with drama and wonderful things for to enjoy. Shiki is finally going to be making an appearance, which should be fun~. Welp, I can't wait to show them to you guys.

Humans were creatures of habit. They were, it was just fact. They adapted when and if they needed to, but they never liked to do so. Humans were creatures of habit that, usually, if they got set into their routines, didn't like to break out of them. Creatures of habit, through and through. Izaya could already feel his habits being broken, he could feel himself being forced out of this little set life that he had created for himself. Shinozuka was pulling him out of it, and Izaya didn't like it. Izaya didn't like it one bit.

He and the other man had stayed up late into the night, and Shinozuka had kept up his promise not to go easy on Izaya - no, no Nakura - asking question after question that delved into his - no, no Izaya's - life. He had replied to each question, he had to do so or Shinozuka would flit out of Nakura's life and the game would be over, and yet- and yet that had been where the game had ended. Izaya had lost himself in this role of his, he had gotten himself too tangled up in this fascinating human, so much so that all thought of the Black Rider's head had been pushed to very back corner of his twisted mind. It was only on this game that he could focus on now, and he would see it through until the very end, so be it, he would. He was Izaya Orihara and he wasn't one to leave things half done, he just wasn't.

Shinozuka had asked about the man Izaya - no, no Nakura - had mentioned, the one that had fucked him up so badly. Izaya had told him about Shiki without a second thought, had simply tapped out the reply as if it were part of Nakura's fake history and not part of his own. If he was honest, sometimes it seemed so distant, so detached that Izaya wondered if it had ever truly happened. It had never used to hurt to think about before, Izaya had made sure of that, made sure to let Shiki and himself know that he was fucking well over it, and his life was just great. And it was, wasn't it? He lived in a posh loft in Shinjuku, had more money than he needed, ate the most expensive sushi every night - though lately his appetite had vanished and he had barely eaten - hell, he even had a slave in his employment; Namie practically was one with the little wage that he paid her. Ha. Stupid woman. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She had com in this morning, but Izaya had taken one look at her and sent her back out the door again with a stack of paperwork to do for him before she next came in. He didn't need to see her smug little face today. Even she had noticed the irritation radiating off of him in the last few days at this game his, and had even had the balls to comment on it. Stupid, stupid, stupid woman. Didn't she remember he held her life in his hands?

Shinozuka had asked about family, and Izaya had answered bluntly with the truth. He had left home at just fifteen after a fight with his parents. They were normal, and Izaya was anything but. It was a relationship that had never worked, a relationship that would never had worked. He'd just packed a bag and left for Tokyo. He'd left for Tokyo and ended up roaming the streets for a week or more before Shiki had found him, half starved. He'd been an alley cat, dirty and wiry and though he'd nearly given up on himself he had still had enough fire left to swing a knife around at Shiki when the man had tried to come close. Maybe he should have stabbed the man then and saved himself the trouble. He'd been soft. And that was that, the story of how Izaya Orihara had ended up in the big city, all alone. He'd not spoken to his family since then, and he didn't plan too. He didn't need them. He didn't need anyone.

Shinozuka had asked so many things, and Izaya had answered; he had answered as if they meant nothing to him, as if he hadn't kept them locked away for so long. Shinozuka had prompted this sudden vomit of truth, and for that Izaya hated him. Hating the man was easy. It was easier than trying to understand how else he felt about him. Anyone can hate. It's an easy, easy, simple, easy emotion to fake, it's one that if you start acting on, will soon enough become how you truly feel. Izaya hadn't hated Shizuo at first, he had viewed him as one of his humans. Then the oaf had gone and turned that to smoke, shifting into that monster that everyone loathed. It was easy to hate Shinozuka, and Izaya would, he was good at hate, so good, so, so, good. It was easy to hate Shinozuka because he had turned Izaya into this pathetically honest human, the one who seemed incapable of fighting back his own past. Pathetic. This was all Shinozuka's fault.

Was it? Was it his fault?

Of course it was.

Of course.

He was going to destroy Shinozuka Heikichi, or destroy himself in the process. That was the only way, it was. The line was blurring, and he was slipping, and he didn't like it, he didn't like it at all. Because even he could see the warning signs, he could see them flashing in front of him and now was the time to stop, to remember who the hell he was and not turn into the Izaya Orihara he used to be. That scrawny little kid had died years ago, Shiki had seen to that, Shiki had killed him and brought the new, better Izaya into the world. Ha. Ha. Should he be thanking him for that? After all, Izaya was everything that human nature should be. Wasn't he? He was. He wasn't. Fuck Shiki and fuck this game. It was his game, his, and that was that. He was going to finish it just the way they had intended to do it. These stirrings inside him, they meant nothing, bullshit.

Izaya needed this done. He needed this game to end because hey, hey, it was getting boring now anyway. He needed it done, he was going to watch Shinozuka break, snap under his finger tips. It was time to move the next piece on the board. The game wasn't over yet, but Izaya would make sure it ended as quickly as possible.

If only for his own sake. Because he was slipping-

Slipping-

Slipping into love.

'Let's meet. Tomorrow.
Ikebukuro Station - 2PM.
I'll be the one with the red scarf,
Don't be late~X.'