This one is in Shizuo's pov and the next one will be too! (I divided this chapter in half because I couldn't make a good transition between the two scenes). Enjoy!
Shizuo
"Flea?" I repeated after hearing no response. "It...sounded like you fell, are you okay?"
'Guess I can't leave for forty-five fucking minutes before the damn louse was doin' stupid shit and injuring himself again.
"Y-Yeah, haha...I just slipped, is all. I'm fine..."
What I was expecting was more of a "no, Shizu-chan, I'm out cold again~", or some other sarcastic remark. Instead, his voice was noticeably hesitant when he responded, which made me suspicious.
"You aren't crying are you?!" I hadn't meant to enforce the word so much as it left my lips, but the idea of the flea crying again made my stomach churn. There was only so much of that a man could take.
"Ah, Shizu-chan…" The door opened to present the shorter male in question, wrapped up in nothing but a white towel hanging low around his hips. He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, smirking with a mischievous glint in his sharp eyes, but I noticed that his cheeks were flushed. Probably from taking a shower or something, I dismissed. "It's almost cute how much Shizu-chan worries about me. Had known all it took was falling down a few times to get your attention…" He looked me up and down slowly, the curve of his lips grinning devilishly when his scarlet gaze met mine. "I would have done it ages ago~."
He seemed to be back to normal now, subtract the more so creepy, up-to-no-good vibe that was emitting off him. The fact that he would admit something so openly, jokingly or not, made my skin crawl.
However, I didn't dwell on the sarcastic demeanor for any more than a second before it hit me; the smell that emanated from of the door he was standing in. The sweet and bitter odor from my dreams sent a wave of terrifying flashbacks through my memory. It matched perfectly down to the very last minutiae; the unique, fruity, yet bitter, tea flavor, to the teeniest tiniest hint of mint. My nostrils dilated as if the scent I was inhaling burned.
My only question was how? How could I smell it when I wasn't enduring one of those bizarre dreams? Even when I gave my hand a slight pinch just to make sure, it was still infesting the air that wafted around us. It was suffocating. I felt my throat closing as if at any minute I would start choking and convulsing.
It couldn't just be me though, right? Or did the flea reek so badly that he could only smell his own stench? My only other logical explanation was that due to the stress of those dreams haunting me — well, aside from the last one — I had become bat-shit crazy and the defiling aroma was all in my head.
"You always look like you're in such anguish." He scrutinized me, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Seriously, are you not worried about looking thirty when you're almost eighteen? Wrinkles happen before you realize it, you know~." He pushed past me and the scent trailed behind him as he made himself comfortable on the edge of his bed and picked up the remote to turn on the TV.
Something was wrong. Something was definitely, undeniably wrong, and my gut feeling told me that if anyone knew what it was, it would be him. Mostly, because he was always the one behind things when weird shit started happening.
"Why does it smell in here..." Much to my surprise, my voice more quiet and calm than usual.
He didn't look up from the television as he spoke. "Smell? What smell?" he asked nonchalantly.
Now I definitely knew it was him.
"It smells like...I dunno, fruity tea or something...and mint," I frowned in distaste.
"As I expected, you have a keen sense of smell, my animalistic, protozoan." He turned to me and beamed a smile. "It's called aromatherapy. Clearly something you've never heard of," he scoffed and directed his attention back to the screen again, continuing to surf through the channels.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I could feel the vein that usually started to throb in my temple whenever the other man felt the need to deem me incompetent.
He sighed as if I were the one pestering him and turned to me with an arched brow. "Do you even know what aromatherapy is?"
"Er...vaguely…" Well so much for my defense. I averted eye contact as I tried to recall where I had heard the term before. Nonetheless, I didn't appreciate the condescending tone he always used with me. "It's just when you smell stuff, right? And then it makes you feel good?"
He broke into a loose cackle at that and finally turned to give me his full attention, ready to lay out the fucking dictionary definition for me. "It's not the same as using a recreational drug, Shizu-chan. You don't get high from it," he chuckled. "Aromatherapy is the therapeutic use of aromatic plant extracts. Different scents work in different ways. For example, the smell of lavender is used to reduce agitation and relieve stress. Perhaps something you should invest in, ne?"
"It sure as hell doesn't smell like lavender," I retorted at his unnecessary comment. Excuse me for being uninformed...However when he said it, I remembered Kasuka suggesting something like that once before...
"That's because I'm completely stress free~, aren't you jealous?" he smiled knowingly before he continued. "Anyway, I used something to help reduce the size of this," he pointed a finger to his forehead.
"And fruit and mint do that?" I cocked an eyebrow in disbelief. He really wanted me to just accept this bullshit?
"Well," he shrugged, "sometimes I like to come up with my own concoctions." The way his smirk widened didn't sit well at all with me, but I left the matter, not wanting to hear another one of his lectures about aromatherapy.
I walked across the room to open the window. The sooner I could get rid of the fumes and clear the haze that seemed to have fogged up my mind, the better.
"What? Why are you opening that? It'll get rid of the—"
"That's the point, flea, it stinks." I unlocked the safety on the window and started to crank it open. "Go sniff some bleach or something, maybe that'll help get rid of whatever trauma has made you the fucked up parasite you are."
"Ha ha, very funny. I'd expect that kind of poor humor from Shinra, but I suppose you're equally, if not more disappointing." He stood up and crossed his arms over his chest. "Besides, it'll get too cold in here."
I stared back at him blankly. "Seems fine to me," I shrugged. "It's your own fault if you get cold, you're like, half naked...You gonna put some clothes on anytime soon?" I asked dryly to hide the way 'half naked' had so easily rolled off my tongue.
The raven's eyes widened for a fraction of a second and he stiffened, before returning to his usual derogatory self.
"Well," he straightened his posture before continuing. "You certainly seem quick to fix a situation you deem problematic," he said matter-of-factually. "If you have such an issue with me walking around like this, why don't you do something about it yourself?" The satisfying hum he made to go along with that smarmy grin caused more rage to build inside me, however I was too busy trying to find a coherent response to his little insinuation that caused my mind to blank.
"Cat got your tongue? Or is your mind perhaps so simple that you don't know how to dress other people once you've taken their clothes off~? Sound familiar?" he cooed.
The fuck is that supposed to—? My brows knit in confusion, and it was only when the flea turned around to head toward the closet, did I notice the familiar view from the night before. The slowly fading bruises that marked his back.
...Oh fuck.
The unsettling, vague memory of last night's events seemed to have been long forgotten due to the rush of everything else going on today. Up until now, I had had no recollection of the little moment we shared, but seeing him again, in a similar sense of nudity, I remembered as much detail as I could have gathered in my exhausted state the previous evening.
"P-Put some damn clothes on, flea!" I stuttered, "I'm tired of looking at you in a towel." The last thing on my to do list was submitting to the thought of that innuendo...
At that remark, he stopped in his tracks, turning on his heel to face me with a knowing grin. "And what if I want to wear just this for the rest of the day, hm? It is my room too, don't forget. I can do whatever I please." His voice was too syrupy and sweet. It made me fidgety as if I couldn't decide between reaching over and strangling him or dressing him my damn self.
Sharing the same presence with him was nearly unbearable, but talking to him like this, hearing his teasing attitude and knowing that nothing but bare skin remained under that fucking piece of white fabric that hung so low around his waist it shouldn't even be legal. I couldn't stand it.
I hadn't needed to see him like this — shirtless and in broad daylight — to know that he was a skinny fucker. Not the kind of sickeningly skinny, but more thin and lithe with lean muscle definition around his torso. His hips were narrower than most guys I'd seen too, and he didn't have broad shoulders by any means. In fact, I was actually taken back a bit by how feminine and...delicate his body looked...Without a chest, of course. This was also the first time I had seen him like this from the front.
His skin was almost as fair as the towel that hugged him snugly, I noted, in all the right places.
There was nothing out of the ordinary about him otherwise, aside from the splotches of purple and yellow marks along the back of his arms and shoulders, as I remembered he told me was bruising from the times I had pushed him around. I recalled how gently I had touched him to examine them last night, and the thought made me flush at the memory. The otherwise unmarred skin was perfectly porcelain. No tan lines that were still fading from summer, no old scars, no visible hair, not even a single freckle on that doll-like slate of skin. The bizarre flawlessness of his structure camouflaged the very person that lie within it.
"I know I'm drop-dead gorgeous, Shizu-chan, but please, I just bathed. Let's try not to flood the room with your saliva, ne? Besides, staring is rude, didn't anyone ever tell you that?" He smirked with such confidence I almost wanted to add another bruise to the collection.
"You sayin' it bothers you when people stare at you, even though you were the one that insisted on not putting clothes on?"
"Oh it doesn't bother me," he corrected, "even though you're technically not a person. I just don't know what kinds of naughty and inappropriate things Shizu-chan might be thinking about me right now~," he chided innocently.
I stiffened at the comment feeling the blood pool in my cheeks. Of course I wouldn't think of anything like that, not at all…
"I suppose this is enough fanservice for now," he sighed, turning again towards the closet. "It looks like you'll pop if you turn any more red," he snickered. "I'll change, but no peeking~."
"What do you—?!"
I felt the slap of cloth falling to drape over my head, and it took me a second to register that the flea had just thrown the fucking towel he was just wearing at my face. I froze in place not sure if I were upset that his ass had just been wrapped up in this thing or thankful that my vision was currently being blocked from the man putting clothes on a few feet away from me. It didn't make things any better when I took a deep breath in, I got an overwhelming waft of that disgusting fruity odor.
I started to tremble reaching a hand up to pull the fabric away from my face, but as soon as I lifted it, I got a full view of the rat bastard bending over in a pair of tightly fitting black briefs and immediately covered my eyes again.
"G-Get a fucking room, dammit!" I stuttered, turning away to hide my humiliation.
"Didn't I say no peeking?" he chimed in a sing-song voice. "Shizu-chan is such a pervert~."
"I am not!" I shouted helplessly against his taunts.
He went back to rummaging through the closet humming something unfamiliar, off-tune of course. My patience was growing thin.
"Ne, so what brought you back here anyway? Did you miss me that much?"
"As if...I came back to get my phone," I grumbled.
There was a long pause before his response.
"Is that so?" He sounded like he was contemplating something. "I don't think I've heard you call your family once thus far. Are they denying your calls? Poor thing, will you even have a home to return to?" he said woefully behind a disappointed smile.
I heaved an annoyed sigh. "I call them when you're not around eavesdropping. That's why."
"You still didn't answer my question."
"No, they don't ignore me. 'Guess your parents haven't called you though."
"Nope~, I'm a free man." His voice grew closer as he walked over to me, lifting the towel from my vision. For some reason he was smiling thoughtfully. "I can only hope my godforsaken sisters have forgotten about me as well." There was no hint of remorse in his tone.
He held the towel in place above my eyes and his own eyes were sparkling up at me. I couldn't blink away from how captivating they were in that moment; bright, scarlet flecks dazzled playfully in the sunlight that streamed in through the window behind me.
"You're a terrible person," I said softly, as if my breath had escaped my lungs.
"I think I'm quite charming, actually." Another twisted cheshire grin formed on his lips and in the corner of my eye I could see him holding a familiar, obnoxiously, bright orange object in his other hand.
"Flea…" From the distraction my voice lowered tentatively. "Is that my—"
Before I could even finish the statement, more or less question, I knew he was testing me by taking my phone. He dropped the towel back in my eyes and dashed away. He was a quick little flea and despite how quickly I darted after him, I still didn't make it in time when I heard the lock on the bathroom door click behind him.
I took a deep breath in and out. "Izaya," I began as calmly as I could possibly manage. "Open the door."
"And why exactly, would I do something like that?" He challenged, muffled on the other side of the wood that separate us.
"I'm going to count to five, and you better open this door," I demanded. I knew I could easily break it down, but if I did, I would regret it immediately, seeing as the bathroom was the only private place around here. "One...two..."
"You've already amazed me, Shizu-chan! You've already exceeded my low expectations of you. At this rate, you might actually have two functioning brain cells.
"Izaya, open the damn door!" I shouted, now really pissed off.
"Let's see who you were last texting~," he thought aloud so I could purposefully hear him.
Damn it all for not having a smartphone with a passcode.
"I-za-yaaa!" I said twisting the doorknob to no avail.
"Oh look it was your brother! How not surprising." I could hear the roll of his eyes in his tone. "I think we should update him on how you're doing this morning, don't you?" he tested. "How about this; 'Deeeear little brother,'" he dragged out each syllable causing me to hit my forehead against the door in defeat. "'I'm currently rooming with a guy, and I think he's veeery attractive. I want to tell him my true feelings, but every time I open my mouth, I just insult him with my stupidity. What do I do?"
My mouth was agape in horror at the thought of Kasuka receiving a message like this. My throat was tightening and my heart was racing, utterly mortified that all the potential admiration my brother held onto for me, was about to crumble away into nothingness, or worse; shame. But it wasn't until Izaya finished the text with a cherry on top when he said:
"'Love, your biggest letdown of a brother'...Send." I could hear the smugness in his voice, and it honestly pained me to hear, but this was the flea. He had no remorse or emotion and wouldn't give a second thought to ruin someone's day, relationship, or life.
When he opened the door, he was lucky he didn't receive a punch so hard it would knock that fucking grin into next week.
I was hoping that the redness in my face would pass for anger, but knowing Izaya, he'd of course see right through it. Hell, I couldn't even convince myself it was just anger. My heart raced with worry, panic, and humiliation, anticipating what my brother might think as he read what was sent. I suppose I could kiss any respect Kasuka had for me goodbye.
I snatched the stolen phone from his grip and scrolled through the recent messages, hoping that this was all just a sick joke. To my horror, sure enough, it had been sent and delivered one minute ago.
"D-Do you know what you've just done?!" My voice cracked when I picked him up from where he stood by the collar and shook him relentlessly. I was so fearful not only for the reaction of my brother's sake, but the fact that Izaya had once again dug me a grave I didn't know how to get out of. Not to mention the things he was saying were...I mean, I couldn't deny that the parasite was good looking genetically, but someone knowing my innermost, personal thoughts, no matter how 'innocent' they may be, made me want to vomit.
"Fuck!" I dropped him to the ground and ran my shaking hands through my hair. I thought I might actually be sick. "He's going to think I'm...And with YOU?!"
"Only if you ask nicely~, but only if you buy me dinner first," he cooed behind a wince from hitting the floor.
"You are a fucked up little bastard, ya know that." My face felt even hotter and my heart beat was ringing in my ears.
"Oh, please. Do you really think he's going to believe it was you? And what do you mean 'with me'? I didn't even mention my name," he scoffed. It quickly registered in his mind that he hadn't needed to say just who my roommate was. "Oh, so you've been talking about me with him, have you?" he said smugly. "Have you been gossiping about me?"
"No, i've been complaining about you! Since no one else seems to pity me."
"Oh you're just being dramatic. If your honor-roll-student-little-brother is as smart as you make him out to be, you have nothing to worry about. I'm just messing with you, take a joke," he reprimanded. "That is, unless what I said was true~."
I tensed and my stomach dropped at the realization that he thought he might be onto something.
"Don't be gross," I mumbled as I shoved my phone back into my pocket. I was still averting eye contact when he stood himself up and dusted off. I pushed past him to walk out the door when he stopped me to grab onto my sleeve.
"Seriously," he said in a much less joking manner, "don't worry about it. Kasuka's a smart kid…"
The facial expression he wore was indifferent but I was certain he was masking something else I wasn't aware of. I didn't care though, and pulled myself away from his grasp and left the room without another word.
Just as the door was shutting behind me, my pocket vibrated. My heart skipped a beat as I hesitantly reached into my pants to grab the device. My eyes scanned the small text of the new message that read:
Kasuka: [ You shouldn't speak so lowly of yourself, Brother. ]
I could hear him scolding me in the back of my mind as I awaited the follow up text.
Kasuka: [ "People change their mind. Today you hate someone, tomorrow you may become fond of them." -Naoki from 'Love in Tokyo' ]
I surprisingly found myself smiling at the quote as I read it over again. Kasuka had always been cheesy when he watched Japanese dramas, quoting those and movies whenever he gave advice. I gave him just as much credit for remembering the countless times I had gone to him for help and he would respond with a silly saying or any other weird expression. Little would I expect, that somehow it always came in handy.
Right now though, he couldn't have said anything more to soothe my edginess. My previous worry had settled a bit, and I thought about responding, telling him that it actually hadn't been me that messaged him first, but I didn't have the heart to brush aside the genuineness behind his words. For now, at least, I'd let him know that I appreciated his wisdom. Although I still remained a little flustered sending him an awkward, 'thank you', I let out the breath I had been holding in relief.