"In matters of grave importance, style, not sincerity, is the vital thing."
― Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest

"So there's this new club, yeah," Kadota spoke, tucking his hands into the pockets of his black insulated down coat. Shizuo was impressed that the man had traded in the teal fleece jacket for another coat. It was cold though, and even Shizuo had thrown on something other than his usual bartender attire. It wasn't much fancier, he had to admit. Nothing about an untucked button down, ratty, over worn jeans and a navy quilted jacket left him feeling over-dressed. It was mildly amusing though, seeing as he never really wore the pants that often; definitely not often enough to make their already light-washed color, lighter. He remembered buying them this way. Fashion had peculiar tastes, it was as though people wanted to look cheaper.

"Yeah?" Shizuo replied, watching his breath, tinted and smooth, twine itself into the frosty air, "what's the place called?" It was almost like smoking, without the smoking part. Shizuo wondered whether he could blow smoke rings in this weather. Least to say, he was hardly paying attention to the man in the icecap who walking beside him.

Kadota shrugged lightly, looking to the side at the small, neon-lit shops, "something like Instant, I think," Shizuo rolled his eyes. They had already been walking for quite a bit now, and the alcohol craving he'd learned so hard to drown out was coming back at the promise of liquor.

"Can you get us there, at least? I mean, we're already in Shinjuku for Christ's sake. I'm sick of walking, Kadota," Shizuo huffed, and even to himself, he sounded childish. He crossed his arms over his chest, scrunching his flushed nose at the cold. He was immune to many things, excluding cold. Shizuo really hated winter - even if it promised warm chamomile tea and hot chocolate fondants, it wasn't enough of a bribe to make him actually like the dead season.

Kadota smirked lightly, a small chuckle escaping him as he glanced at the irked blond from the corner of his eye. "Out of breath already? See, this is what smoking does to you. What happened to the Shizuo Heiwajima that did track―"

Shizuo snorted loudly, cracking a smile, "you know very well that I never did track."

"One time thing, ay?" Kadota laughed, alluding to something that the other picked up on quickly.

"Chasing that bastard was never a one time thing, but hey, keeps me in shape. The field was simply there at the time." The blond joked, looking back at the man who grinned at his comment. It felt as though they were back to being in high-school, even though Shizuo would argue those were the worst years of his life. Despite that, Kadota was the only one who mildly understood Shizuo, without wanting to cut him up one way or another - in cruel scientific interest, or sadistic pleasure.

"Oh god," Kadota snorted, "you should have seen people's faces. It looked like they were inches from crapping themselves when Izaya pulled a knife on you. One guy tripped over a hurdle and broke his nose, I think."

"You're joking," Shizuo grinned, looking incredulous, "did Shinra help the kid at least? I mean, it must have hurt. And our nurse sucked - she did nothing but give me ice and a time out, I swear."

"Define 'helped'" Kadota said between air quotations, "Shinra kept laughing."

"That fruitcake can't be saved."

Kadota shrugged, nodding along with the blond as they fell into an easy flow of laughter. "Shinra is a strange one, I'll give you that. But give the nurse-lady a break, though. You were at the clinic daily, not to mention you caused half the injuries she had to deal with." Shizuo rolled his eyes, digging in his pocket for his cigarette case and lighter.

"I don't see your point," he said, popping the butt of the cig into his mouth, flicking the lighter open in a practiced manner before stroking the wheel that set it ablaze. He did it all in one fluid motion before clicking it closed once more, running a thumb over the Russian engravings on the metal face. His other hand smoothed the case back into his pocket and proceeded to take the cancer-stick out of his mouth when he'd taken a drag. The lighter was a gift, one from Vorona; he wasn't sure exactly what it said, but given the buildings scratched onto the surface, he assumed it was something tourist-friendly.

Kadota nodded his head at Shizuo's hand, "your girlfriend give you that?"

"Nah, man," Shizuo spoke, tucking it back into his pocket, "a friend gave me that. I don't have a girlfriend."

"Glad to see you and Izaya are exchanging gifts, yeah?" Kadota scoffed, a little laugh escaping him as he dodged Shizuo's shove.

"What the hell man! That flea is not my friend!" The blonde growled loudly, eyes narrowing sharply.

"I'm just joking," the other smiled, looking back at the blond from a few steps ahead, "calm down, will you? Besides, we're already here, loosen up."

Shizuo looked up from his interest in the ground, the pungent smell of drunk wafting around him as the flaming neons glared hotly back at him, breath catching in his throat.

Finally.