Chapter 3

Izaya's jacket was on the floor. It was his favorite jacket, big and comfy, but it was a clean house. He had refused, politely, to take off his rings, just as he had politely refused a cup of tea and any other chance to chat. They had gone directly to Shiki's basement, just as they had for the past six months or so.

"You're a natural," Shiki said, chuckling dryly.

Izaya smiled, panting as he leaned against the wall. "Thank you," he said.

"Still, you'll get yourself killed if you don't learn how to pick your fights." Shiki joined Izaya at the wall, offering him a waterbottle that Izaya took with a grimace. Shiki gestured to Izaya's arm. "You're bleeding again, Orihara-san."

Izaya didn't bother to look down at the stain on his bandaged arm. "I'm not a child, Shiki-san," Izaya said. He chugged down some water, wiped his mouth. "I engaged someone in a controlled environment to get some real experience."

"And what have we been doing these past six months?"

Izaya looked at Shiki, his sweat-soaked hair, his young face pulled together into harsh lines that never went away, even as he stood there next to him, smiling. Izaya knew he was one of the privileged. Not many people saw Shiki like this, in a regular T-shirt and sweats, smiling at the pleasure of your company.

It started, as Shiki said, half a year ago. Shiki stumbled across Izaya turning cold in a pool of warm blood. An acquaintance of Izaya's had shot him with an unsteady, shaking hand, for betraying him, Izaya said, which was true. Shiki brought Izaya home, where Shinra could treat him. Later, when he could limp again, Izaya went up to Shiki and asked him how to handle a blade.

They trusted each other, to a point. In their side of the world, trust was everything and, at the same time, nothing. Izaya could say he trusted this man that had saved his life once, and Shiki could say that he trusted Izaya to honor him as his savior, but the first man to depend on the other would fall, crumble, lose.

"I appreciate what you've done for me, Shiki-san," Izaya said, smiling back. "Truly. But it would have all been for naught if I couldn't apply what you've taught me in the real world."

"It'll all be for naught when you get yourself killed."

"Have some faith, Shiki-san," Izaya said. He pushed himself off the wall. "Now, I want to practice hitting moving targets again! That's always fun."

Shiki put his hands in his pockets, not moving from the wall. "Orihara-san," he said. "You should go home and get that treated. You won't be able to work if you got an infection."

Izaya glanced back at him. "I thought we said we wouldn't mention work down here, Shiki-san."

"Well, in this case, I'm making an exception."

"How long does this exception last? Because I do have something about our runaway that I want to check up on..."

Shiki scowled. "It just ended."

Izaya laughed. "I see," he said. Smiling, he tossed the waterbottle back to Shiki and added, "Don't worry, Shiki-san. I'm a professional. Even if I got sick, I'd still find a way."

"You always seem to, don't you?" Still, he didn't move. "Why don't we leave the knives for today," he said. "I'll start teaching you how to use guns. You don't need to practice your aim with knives anymore, anyway."

Izaya walked over to the table full of Shiki's knives. "Practice makes perfect," he sang softly.

"And if you're already perfect?"

"Then take the chance to transcend beyond." Izaya took a pocket knife with a cheap, wooden handle. He turned around. "Ready?" he said.

Sighing, Shiki finally pushed off the wall and headed towards Izaya with a small frown, the space between his eyes a mass of creases.

"Are you giving me a choice?"

Izaya smiled as he flicked the blade out of the handle.

"No."

It was a nice day. It was heading towards the end of February, and the weather might have been a little too cold for everyone else, but it felt just right to Shizuo. He enjoyed walking around in a T-shirt and jeans, feeling the cool air on his skin as he smoked the cigarette between his teeth.

They were finally getting over all the Christmas debts at work, too. No more having to listen to shit like, it was for the children, it was for my wife, it was for my husband, it was for my long-lost grandmother dying from the flu, and don't you have a soul it was for Christmas for god's sake, can't you give me a break?

Shizuo exhaled bitter, white smoke. He imagined the whisper of it rushing out his lips to be the feel of all those hundreds of complaints disappearing out into the open air. He relaxed, smiling.

Then he walked through the doors of Karma Financial*.

"...thank you again, Tom-san."

Tom shook the hand of a skinny man in glasses, his matte-black coat long and heavy-looking, his smile unforgettable.

"No problem," Tom said, neutrally. "I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help."

"No, I expected as much anyway," Orihara replied. "Just please let me know if you get any more information on my uncle."

Tom nodded. "Of – "

"What the hell are you doing here?!"

They both turned around to face Shizuo. "Shizuo," Orihara said, in a tone of polite surprise. He smiled nicely, that coupled with the wire-rimmed glasses making him look like a completely different person. "Hello to you too."

Shizuo balled his hands into fists, his abandoned cigarette burning out on the floor, and his blood rushed to his head so fast it almost left him dizzy. "DON'T CALL ME THAT!"

"Woah," Tom said, approaching Shizuo with his hands raised. "I don't know what's going on, but let's calm down a bit first..."

"Tom-san," Shizuo started, turning to him, "whatever he said – "

"Actually," Orihara cut in, swiftly stepping forward. "This is great timing. There was something I wanted to talk to you about, Shizuo."

"Orihara!" Shizuo growled.

The man had the gall to laugh. "How many times have I told you to call me Izaya?" he said.

"What – ?!"

"Come on, let's talk outside, so that we don't bother Tom-san."

"Like hell I'm gonna – !"

"It's about Shinra."

"What?" Tom said as Shizuo deflated. "Is Shinra okay?"

"Oh, Tom-san, you know Shinra too?" Orihara said innocently, looking over at Tom.

"Yeah, he was my junior in high school. Did something happen?"

"I see. Well, there's no need to worry. What I want to talk about isn't anything too serious. It's just...I'd rather it be just Shizuo-kun and me. Is that alright with you, Tom-san?"

Tom looked at Shizuo and then at Orihara. He shrugged. "It's fine with me if it's fine with Shizuo," he said.

Orihara glanced at Shizuo. "Shizuo?"

Shizuo looked at Orihara. The flea's eyes looked weirdly honest. Maybe it was because his glasses were magnifying them a little, but he even had his head cocked to the side, his crooked smile simply puzzled, instead of mocking. All of this combined made him seem so...normal.

Shizuo didn't trust it for a second.

"So all you want," he said, making up his mind, "is just to talk about Shinra, right?"

Orihara laughed a little. "Of course."

Shizuo sighed. "Fine," he said. He turned around, stalking out the doors of the building. "I'll be right back," he called out to Tom.

"Just don't take too long."

Outside, Orihara took off his glasses and tucked his coat tighter around himself. "Come on," he said. "Let's walk around the block for a bit, it's freezing."

"We can talk right here," Shizuo said, glaring.

"Do I really have to drag you the entire way through this conversation?" Orihara said. He dropped that weird expression he had on before. Now, he was looking up at Shizuo with a familiar scowl on his face, the hand in his pocket probably holding his knife. "I thought you wanted to hear about Shinra."

For some reason, Shizuo found himself relaxing a little. "I did," he said. He scratched his nose, sniffing. "Fine, I'll walk with you, happy?"

Orihara smirked. "A little."

They started walking down the street, side-by-side in the cool, gray afternoon. They were one of the few out and about, an odd pair ambling between people hurrying from one place to another. If Orihara had been any other person, the walk probably would have been very nice.

As it was, he didn't feel horrible about it. Orihara was quiet for the first few minutes, something Shizuo thought was suspicious, but a relief nonetheless. He actually looked a little silly huddled up in his large coat, flushed from a cold Shizuo could barely feel. Shizuo almost cracked a smile at the sight.

"What?" Orihara said when Shizuo actually let out a small chuckle.

"Nothing," he said, quickly looking away. "It's just, it's not that cold, you know."

He heard Orihara scoff. "It's less than ten degrees Celsius, Shizu-chan. Maybe a freak like you can't feel it, but it's cold."

"Maybe you're just that weak," Shizuo said. "You are pretty skinny."

"I could cut down a monster like you any day."

"Oh yeah?" he said. "How's your arm?"

"You want to find out?"

"Weren't you going to talk to me about Shinra?" Shizuo said, before he could do anything rash. Tom would have been proud.

"How come he's a first name, anyway?" Orihara said. Shizuo felt his eye twitch. "You even call Celty by her first name, and you've known me just as long."

"Celty's a foreigner, so it's normal for her, and is this really what you wanted to talk about?" Shizuo growled.

"Just try it," Orihara said, smiling now. "Try calling me by my first name."

"Don't be gross. I'm not calling you by your first name."

Orihara laughed, taking his bony hands out of his coat pockets. "Come on, it's not that hard," he said. "I do it for you."

"Did I ever say I wanted you to?!"

"It's just three syllables: I – za – ya. Come on, say it with me!"

"No!"

"Izaya, Izaya..."

"Shut up!"

"...Izaya, Izaya, Izayaaaaaaa!""

"I swear to god – !"

Orihara linked an arm through Shizuo's and leaned into him, his cold body flush against his. "Just do it, Shizu-chan!"

Caught off-guard, Shizuo stumbled back and knocked into someone, making her fall. Horrified, Shizuo quickly shook Orihara off and helped the woman up.

"I'm so sorry!" he said.

The woman just darted her eyes between Orihara, who was laughing his ass off, and Shizuo. After a mumbled, "No, I'm fine," she sped off down the street as quickly as she could.

Whipping around, Shizuo grabbed Orihara by the collar.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he growled.

"Hey," Orihara said, still chuckling. "Let's date."

"What?!"

"I'm serious! Well, kind of." Orihara wrapped his fingers around Shizuo's, patting his hand. "For now, let me go. People are staring."

Shizuo glanced around to see that Orihara was right, some people had actually stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to stare at them. Reluctantly, Shizuo let go.

"You're lucky there are people here, flea."

"Now who's the evil one, beast?"

"Orihara – !"

He quickly backed off, hands up. "If we're going to make this work, you should really learn how to control that temper of yours."

"What are you talking about?" Shizuo growled.

"Well," Orihara said, putting his hands down. He started walking again, and grumbling, Shizuo followed. "As I'm sure everyone except for you and Celty knows, Shinra is head over heels for Celty. He's too much of a coward to actually ask her out himself, so all we need to do, as his closest friends, is give him the opportunity to confess his feelings. With me so far?"

"Wait," Shizuo said, frowning.

"Yes?"

"I thought Shinra and Celty were already going out."

"Eh?" Orihara looked up at Shizuo, face full of surprise. Then he burst out laughing. "Is that what Shinra said?"

"No," Shizuo snapped. "I just figured from the way he talked about her all the goddamn time, and you know, how they acted at the matsuri that they were. But really, they're not?"

Orihara smiled. "Not yet. But as apparently even you can tell, they're right at the brink. They just need that final push, and that's where you and I come in!"

"How?" Shizuo said, frowning.

"Like I said." Orihara glanced up at Shizuo, his flushed face sly. "We start dating."

"I don't date."

"That's fine," Orihara said, waving him off. "We just need to make it look like we are. Then when we invite them out, the two idiots won't get all hot and bothered if we suddenly disappear on them. After a couple times of this, they should naturally get together on their own. Perfect, right?"

"No," Shizuo said. "I won't lie to some poor girl just to get them together."

"Well then, good thing you won't have to."

Shizuo looked over at him. "What?"

"Are you really this slow? Or are you just pretending?" Orihara looked back at Shizuo, his brown eyes sparkling in a sudden burst of cold sunlight, his smile challenging. "I'm asking you out," he said. "Moron."

Shizuo stared.

"What?!"

*I changed the name of Shizuo's workplace from "Collect-A-Debt" to "Karma Financial." It just sounds a bit more official, right?