A/N Sorry that it's taken me longer than usual to update! Unfortunately, the next two upcoming weekends are very busy for me, as well, so I might not get the change to post a new chapter until April. Thanks for being patient, and thanks for all the supportive comments! Enjoy!

That night, they spent hours formulating a plan. At the one-hour mark, a couple of Shiki's men brought them coffee. After drinking half of it, Izaya felt jittery and anxious, so he stopped. At the two-hour mark, they brought them dinner. Izaya wasn't hungry. At the three-hour mark, they brought them sake. Shiki drank half the bottle, Izaya drank none. He needed his mind to be sharp, focused. Many lives were at stake, including his own, and he wasn't in the mood to die.

As they discussed their situation, it became apparent that they actually had a few advantages. The biggest of these advantages was that Shiki and Izaya were to meet them using their own form of transportation. They had given them an address, which was surprising. The only things stopping the two of them from releasing the address to the public were the lives of the hostages. Of course, that was enough to stop them, but the gangs had taken a big risk when they had given them that information. Izaya wasn't sure why they had taken such a risk, but he knew that there had to be a reason. Maybe it was to gauge how much they really cared for the hostages. Izaya couldn't be sure.

Eventually, Shiki suggested that they get some sleep, and the same men that had brought them food and drinks returned with pillows and blankets. The thought of sleeping in that office wasn't appealing, but it was definitely the safest option. After Izaya wrapped himself up in a blanket, he checked the time. It was only four hours until they had to be at the hideout. It was late, but he wasn't tired. Sure, he was emotionally drained, but his mind was still on high alert. Part of him wished that they didn't have to go, but part of him couldn't wait. He experienced intense dread and intense longing at the same time. He wondered if Shiki felt the same way. He almost asked, but when he turned his head to look at him, he realized that Shiki was already asleep.

Izaya closed his eyes. For about 15 minutes, he tried to quiet his mind and sleep, but to no avail. His thoughts kept drifting to Shizuo. He was helpless against his own mind. It was almost as if he had spent so long repressing his feelings, that he had simply run out of energy to do so. Everything about Shizuo now occupied every corner of his brain. The way his hair fell across his forehead. His voice. Even his inhuman strength—something that he had previously seen as terrible and disgusting—seemed strangely attractive to him now. Most of all, however, he wondered how much his captors were making him suffer. He pictured the dark cell he was most likely trapped in, the cold steel of the handcuffs that were most likely encircling his wrists. Headaches. Nightmares. He needed to get him back. Although he didn't want to die, if it was to save Shizuo, maybe, just maybe, he'd be okay with that.

Before he knew it, there was only an hour before they had to be at the hideout. He shook Shiki awake.

"Huh? What time is it?" He asked with a groan.

"Three."

"Goddammit."

Izaya's heartbeat seemed to increase with every passing minute. His stomach churned. He watched as Shiki slowly collected himself.

January 17. Is this the day I die? Is this the day we all die?

That thought ran through his mind over and over again, yet he did his best to remain calm on the outside. He didn't want to make Shiki more anxious than he already was. They needed to be as confident as possible in order to make their plan succeed.

A half hour later, they were in a car. Shiki drove. Izaya sat, fidgeting in the passenger seat. Neither of them spoke. The silence was nauseating, but Izaya couldn't bring himself to say anything.

"Everything's all set, right?" Asked Shiki, as they were nearing their destination.

"Yes, I just hope the timing works out."

The hideout was located on at the edge of Ikebukuro, on a long, thin street, under a bridge. Both sides of the road were occupied by warehouses, spaced out a good distance away from each other with large parking lots. Smokestacks towered above them. There were almost no cars in any of the lots, after all, it was still nighttime. It was still completely dark outside.

They pulled into the lot corresponding to address they had been given. The warehouse looked almost identical to the others. Perhaps, it was slightly older. Some of the paint was peeling on the outside of the building, numerous cracks were engraved in the asphalt of the parking lot.

"Hiding in plain sight, it seems," said Shiki.

Izaya had no response. He checked the time. Five minutes until four.

"Shiki?"

"Hm?"

"Would you die for these men of yours?"

"Yes, I would."

"You didn't hesitate at all."

"Why should I? Too many of my people have died because of these gangs, and I can't take it any more. Besides, if they kill me, the boss will definitely get involved. If we can't take these people out, he will. If my death results in something like that, then so be it."

Izaya looked at Shiki with admiration in his eyes. He had seemed like a different person yesterday, nervous, even afraid. This morning, he was determined. Shiki smiled, and spoke, as if he could read Izaya's mind:

"Yesterday, before we came up with the plan, everything seemed hopeless. I was almost certain that we would all die, but now, I think we have a good shot to make it out alive or at least," he paused, mulling his words over, "or at least be able to save those who are precious to us."

"I hope you're right. I hope we can save them."

"Would you die for Heiwajima?"

"I think I would."

"I like this side of you, you know?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"You used to be so selfish. Now, you've found someone you care about more than yourself. I like that."

Again, Izaya didn't know how to respond. A combination of anxiety, fear, and exhaustion had made it so difficult to form words.

"January 17th," He finally said, as they got out of the car.

This time, Shiki didn't speak.

"We might die today."

In the distance, two men exited the building and stood, arms crossed, in front of the doorway. This was it.

"Yes," said Shiki, "we might."