Author's Note: Apologies for not getting to update this for the last couple of days – I had a really big essay to hand in for English Literature which is part of my final grade for college and an assessment that I had to do in my Japanese class, welp. So I've been spending time doing that and making shirts for my new Etsy site, exciting stuff~!

I can also say that in a couple of chapters we'll be seeing the beginning of the end for this fic really, because the way it stands at the moment, this will probably end somewhere between chapter 70-75. I know I could quite easily go on and on with this conflicted Shizuo arc, but it has to end at some time. We'll see, that may all change when I start writing these final chapters, but most likely it will end there.

… even if I am not ready to say goodbye to all of you lovely reviews and this fic just yet. (;_;)

Shizuo Heiwajima was not a morning person. That was a little fact known to anyone who knew him well enough or had done for a considerable amount of time. He was grouchy, cranky, never liking to be roused from sleep unless he needed to be. Truth be told he never really had been an early riser, even when he had been little, filled with childish energy that ought to have prompted him to rise early like most of the others his age.

He'd often linger around in the mornings, even on work days, curled in the bed sheets, until the last possible moment until he had to waken and rise, clinging to the persistent kiss of sleep and the warmth of the fabric breathing against his skin. He didn't take long to get ready after that either, even if he was still groggy or not quite awake. Shizuo had never really been one to take too long to preen and polish his appearance, which was just another one of those things that had never mattered too much to him growing up. He always made sure that he looked presentable of course, making sure that his shirt and waistcoat and trousers were clean and neatly pressed the night before; though he'd still not really figured out how to get all of the creases out, and so his neighbour had taken to doing it for him in days of late after seeing his attempts. That was all that really went into his routine in the morning, just to shower, dry his hair, and brush his teeth and dress and leave. It was simple and it was humble, unassuming, just like Shizuo himself.

This morning had been completely different to his routine however, and Shizuo had found himself ready faster than he would have been normally; though he supposed the fact that Tom was waiting just outside of the door was the reason for the boost in speed. He had lingered awkwardly for a few moments where he had been stood in the living room following Izaya's departure from apartment before he had shaken himself free from those perplexing little thoughts of his and headed to get dressed. Another outfit had been hanging in the wardrobe, clean and ironed, as if it had been waiting for him, and Shizuo had wasted no time in pulling it on.

He cursed the speed when he got to the door, half wishing he had wasted more time or declined Tom's offer after all; that would mean putting off dealing with the questions that were inevitably going to follow. The blonde still wasn't sure he wanted to answer them just yet, or even if he could. Tom wouldn't be mean about it, wouldn't judge, or at least not in a way that Shizuo would be able to tell if he was, but that didn't mean it would be easy to discuss. No, no, no—

"That was quick, I thought I'd be waiting here a while," Tom commented when Shizuo appeared at the door, tugging it shut behind him after checking he'd remembered his key and cigarettes. The other man hadn't moved much from where he had been stood before, his hands once again tucked into his trousers and a small, warm smile tugging up at the corners of his mouth.

"Are you ready to go?" the brown headed man questioned with a slight chuckle, mirthful. Shizuo's forehead crinkled somewhat in a half frown, his own hands shoving into his pockets too, almost childishly in the manner that he did so. Tom didn't seem to be at all concerned with that, more than used to Shizuo's rather brusque personality and irritable behaviour by now.

"Hn," Shizuo merely grumbled out in reply, bowing his head once in a stiff nod and pushing himself towards the stairs leading out of the apartment block. Tom started forward too, settling into place just in front of Shizuo as they headed down.

Neither of them spoke after that until they'd already left the building and arrived on the street outside, though Shizuo had faintly heard the sound of Tom whistling quietly to himself, something he frequently did. The blonde idly wondered if Tom could feel the frown directed at his back, because Shizuo was sure it was deep enough for his boss to feel it. He had been expecting Tom to question him about what he had walked into, about what was going on and perhaps even if he was feeling okay, and yet the other man had not asked a thing. If Shizuo didn't know that Tom was smarter than that, he'd have wondered if he had simply forgotten, simply not realised that it was Izaya who had been stood there. Really, Shizuo wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

It was relatively warm out, more so than he had been expecting, and Shizuo was glad he had chosen to roll up the sleeves of his shirts towards his elbows. The streets were fairly busy too, though that was only really to be expected now that the weekend had rolled around. Shizuo wasn't sure how long it was that he simply followed Tom, listening to the quiet little whistle and waiting for the questions to start. Shizuo wasn't sure if this was some kind of battle, a power play to see who would give in first and bring the subject up. Shizuo knew that was a stupid idea, because it sure as hell wasn't going to be him; but he mentally thanked Tom for obviously giving Shizuo a chance to explain things himself before diving right in.

"Where are we going again?" the blonde huffed out when the silence became too irritating, ironic seeing as normally that was something that Shizuo appreciated about Tom and he. Tom had mentioned that they had plans, ones that Shizuo had quite obviously forgotten, and Tom knew that too, so there was no shame in asking just where they were headed after all.

"I knew you'd forget, as soon as you agreed to come!" Tom laughed, turning his body somewhat to grin back at Shizuo. His pace slowed a little bit, letting him fall back into step with his bodyguard, who until then had been hanging back awkwardly. "My friend's opening his restaurant, remember?"

From the look on Shizuo's face, he didn't.

"Well anyway, I invested some money into the place, so he said that our food's on him from now on," Tom chuckled, waving a hand airily beside his head. "Apparently they serve the best noodles in the city, and I figured it makes a change from sushi, right?"

Shizuo smiled at that, unable to stop a little laugh of his own floating free and drifting across the air.

The little restaurant wasn't big, in fact it was rather humble in size and not all that extravagantly decorated, but Shizuo decided he liked it pretty quickly after they'd arrived. People seemed to trip over him in other places, always thinking that he'd get pissed and tear the place apart if he wasn't happy, but it hadn't been like that here. It hadn't taken them long to arrive, only about fifteen or so minutes from the apartment complex that Shizuo lived in, and the place had been quiet, relatively empty, but warm and bubbly. Mr Tokihiro had greeted Tom with a smile and a one armed hug and when Shizuo had reached out his hand to shake had found himself pulled in for one too. Tom had laughed at the look on Shizuo's face when that had happened, and promptly reassured him that his cooking was better than his knowledge of personal space; and well, Shizuo had to admit that Tom's friend hadn't been lying when he'd claimed he made the best noodles in the city. If there was a series of awards for noodle dishes, the blonde decided that this place would win them, all of them. Tom and he had been ushered to a little booth near the corner, settled by the window so that if they so wished they could watch the busy hubbub of city life drift by outside; the best table in the place, or so Mr Tokihiro had declared.

A collection of plates and bowls now lay scattered across this table; except for a little bowl of rice which still lay nestled in Shizuo's hands, though he didn't seem to be taking much notice of it, staring out of the window, lost in thought. Tom had finished eating, now sipping at his drink with a soft, concerned smile resting on his face, directed towards the blonde sat across the table from him.

"You don't need to explain this morning to me if you don't want," The loan sharked spoke up, quietly, setting his cup down on the table and waiting for Shizuo to respond. The blonde's head snapped back at that, but his eyes lowered almost awkwardly down to the rice in the bowl and a scowl creased his face.

Tom had never been one to judge anyone for their choices in life, something that always surprised many people, his clients mostly, who were used to entirely different sorts of people in his line of work. As far as Tom was concerned, the happier Shizuo was, the better it would be for the state of Ikebukuro in the long run. He wasn't sure how many more sign posts were left around the place in one piece. What he had stumbled onto wasn't something that he'd really been expecting nor even seen coming, but it wasn't something that he would condemn if Shizuo wanted it. Izaya may not have been perfect, but then again, who was? Tom wasn't, and Shizuo certainly wasn't either, and so maybe the match wasn't that bad after all.

"It's not that, I—" Shizuo began after a pause, poking around at the rice in the bowl with his chopsticks idly. He didn't know what he was expected to say, because all he could think of was Izaya's words from earlier; the fact that the raven had managed to predict his thoughts, the things he would have said. Shizuo couldn't say that now, not now that he'd been caught, if only to prove Izaya wrong. Tom didn't deserve to be lied to either; it wasn't his fault that he'd walked into that, whatever that was. "It's complicated,"

"Isn't everything?" Tom replied with a low laugh, lacing his fingers together to rest his chin atop his hands and glance over at Shizuo, who was still fiddling with the rice in the bowl, but not attempting to eat it.

"Tch, everything to do with the louse is complicated," he half scoffed, half laughed in return, shoving the bowl down shortly after without finishing the rice inside; he'd lost his appetite.

"So are the two of you—?" the brunette broached, arching an eyebrow and allowing his question to linger in the air, unspoken but obvious all the same. Shizuo shrugged, sighing, frowning again.

"Fuck knows," came the reply, "Maybe, not really, kinda. The thing is— it's really…"

"Complicated?" Tom finished with a laugh, and Shizuo's mouth tweaked up slightly at the corners in a little smile. "You don't have to be so tense Shizuo; I'm not asking to hear everything, just— a couple things that I want to know,"

The blonde looked over towards his boss then, this time quirking his eyebrow; an unspoken reply of 'like what?' hanging over the two of them. There was a little pause, a lull filled by the chatter of other customers.

"Are you happy?"

For a while, Shizuo didn't say anything, didn't do anything. He simply sat and stared and thought. He didn't know the answer to that. He'd not had long enough to really think about that, at least not while the louse had been there. They'd slept together and they'd curled up together and woken up together and managed to get along pretty damn well considering— but was Shizuo happy?

Maybe, not really, kinda.

He remembered the time he'd stayed at Izaya's loft, had showered there and spoken with the raven about work, had simply sat on the sofa and smoked. He'd been calm then, content he supposed. Was that the same thing as happiness? What did happiness even matter? Of all the things that Tom could have chosen to ask—

"I've never really thought about it I guess," Another shrug. Tom smiled, not that Shizuo noticed. Quiet fell between the too of them again, before Tom breathed out a little sigh, letting his hands fall back to the table, the same little smile twisting his mouth as before.

"When you were little, did you ever just put your arms out and just spin and spin and spin?" He turned his eyes away from Shizuo now, out towards the window to watch the people walking past. "And everything inside of you would tell you to stop before you fell and look like the biggest dork in the playground, but you would just keep on going?"

"What the hell are you going on about?" The blonde had raised an eyebrow again at the apparent change in conversation, but Tom didn't seem to notice or care.

"Oh, just— thinking out loud I guess," He laughed, turning to look back at Shizuo with a smile that held so much more, before rising from the table and seeing the blonde follow. That's what love is like, was what he wanted to say, but didn't, wouldn't. One day Shizuo would understand his cryptic advice, his idea on what Shizuo should do, neatly wrapped up in a funny little tale of when he was little. One day, Tom was sure.

"Just thinking out loud,"