Disclaimer: I do not own Durarara!
"Do you want to live?"
Shiki knocked firmly on Shinra's door, resisting the urge to break it down as his eyes skimmed the bundle in his arms, trailing the slow rise and fall of Izaya's chest. He didn't understand why none of the wounds besides the one he had made on the man's neck hadn't already healed. Shiki wasn't even sure how they had made it to the apartment without leaving a bloody trail through the makeshift bandages from his own shredded coat, the red clearly painted on the crisp white.
He gave Shinra a few more seconds before he proceeded to rustle through his pockets with his free hand for the spare key he always kept with him for emergencies such as this. Izaya's head lolled limply to the side as he unlocked the door with a click, and he hauled the man into the apartment.
"Kishitani?" he called out for Shinra while he kicked off both of their shoes in the genkan. He peeked into the living room, finding it empty to his chagrin. Both Shinra and Celty seemed to have left in a hurry upon further inspection: there was a half-eaten sandwich on the table, and the evening news blared on the television.
"Yuuhei Hanejima was injured by an unknown assailant this afternoon. We are still not sure of the exact details yet, but…"
Shiki continued down the hall to the operating room, switching on the lights before placing the man gingerly on the metal table. The informant merely slumbered on, the slow breaths a testament to the thin string of life he had carelessly taped back together.
It was a strange sight indeed.
He had never seen Izaya this tranquil in all the years they have worked together. During their meetings he could always sense the wheels turning endlessly in the informant's head, the excess energy threatening to surge outward despite the man's seemingly calm demeanor.
It had been exhilarating to watch, drawing him in with its poison despite every ounce of his self preservation telling him to stay away from a man like Izaya Orihara. He had only barely managed to keep his own nature hidden from the other for all these years, but the day Izaya would somehow find out always lingered in the back of his mind.
Shiki sent another firm text to Shinra to call him as soon as possible and placed the phone out of the way.
He didn't have much time. Even if the ritual had worked, he could still see the bleeding under the white light.
"Orihara, can you hear me? I'm going to try removing the bullets," he said aloud to the informant as he pulled on some gloves. Shiki swallowed thickly at the lack of response despite expecting none. He had heard that the subjects usually became agitated during the transformation process, so Izaya's continued silence was starting to unnerve him. He didn't remember the last time he had chosen to turn another, for better or worse, and there was also the slight chance that he had done something wrong.
Then again, if he had truly messed up, then Izaya would be dead by now. Perhaps the man was just too weak to heal without physically removing the bullets, he reasoned.
He peeled off Izaya's bloody clothes and bandages, starting with the thick jacket. The man's penchant for black was no help in identifying the actual wounds, and he ended up stripping the other down to the underwear, which Shiki will not touch for what little dignity he had left the other. He grimaced at the patches of dried blood on the porcelain skin, much of it old and brown.
The man should be dead. He shouldn't have…
He shook the thoughts out of his head as he looked around for the tweezers he knew Shinra used for the superficial bullet extractions, mentally cursing the doctor to choose now of all days to be unavailable. In any other situation, he could have called his usual backup underground doctor, but he didn't trust that man to keep a secret as big as this, especially if Izaya was involved.
"Where the hell are they?" He had already decided that he would give Izaya an earful for causing him this much trouble when the other woke, and Shinra was very close to being added to the list.
Shiki scowled when he finally found the tweezers on the adjacent table.
Not wasting any more time, he started on the hole in Izaya's left leg first, the glimmer of metal easily visible under the white light. The bullet had missed bone, and Shiki managed to get a good grip on it after working some of the muscle out the way. He took a slow breath before wrenching outward, dislodging the metal with a squelch.
"Not bad."
He tossed the bullet into a little metal bowl he knew Shinra kept for such purposes, the resulting clang a satisfying salute to his victory. The other leg and forearm came next, each removal just as easy as the first, and for a moment, Shiki wondered if this was actually going to work out without Shinra here.
Shiki let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding when he turned back to Izaya's legs and found that the wounds had slowly started to close, smooth skin forming over the previously oozing crevices. He bit his lip slightly at the sight, trying to ignore the complicated rush of both elation and guilt that concentrated in his stomach.
The ritual had worked.
He moved to the wound on the shoulder. There was no point in dwelling on what has already been done, he told himself.
Shiki noted that this particular bullet had embedded into Izaya's clavicle and despite his attempts, the tweezers slipped off the metal with every attempt he made at grasping it. He cursed under his breath and decided to assess the one in the chest, but that one was lodged even deeper, likely close to the man's heart. The wound still continued to ooze, so he knew that the bullet must still be in there.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath before trying to call Shinra again. This was the most he could do without actually cutting Izaya open with a scalpel.
The phone went to Shinra's voicemail again, and he clicked his tongue in irritation, ignoring the new unread messages from Tsukumoya. The man had not taken his decision well earlier.
Tsukumoya: [HOW DARE YOU TURN MY PLAYMATE!?]
Shiki: [He was shot five times.]
Tsukumoya: [THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU PROTECT HIM?]
Shiki: [We waited too long.]
Shiki: [I don't know why he's still not healing.]
Shiki: [I'm going to head to Shinra's now. He's not picking up.]
Tsukumoya: [I SAID TO SAVE HIM, NOT TURN HIM INTO A VAMPIRE]
Tsukumoya: [HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?]
Shiki: [I can always just let Orihara die.]
Shiki: [Would you prefer that?]
He hadn't bothered to wait for Tsukumoya's response before driving to the doctor's apartment, trying his best to not recklessly crash his car before even reaching Shinra's. The thought of another nuisance that he had to deal with later only irritated him even more.
Shiki turned back to the scene before him and decided to wrap the wounds instead for now to save what little blood Izaya had left. He grimaced as the red instantly stained the bandages even as he applied them.
The man's skin was nearly white by now. He knew he had bought the other some time with his shoddy first aid, but even if the ritual was successful, Izaya would soon bleed out the remaining life he had given the other if he didn't somehow remove the last two bullets. It was ridiculous why Izaya couldn't simply heal around the bullets so that they could take them out later. He had done it plenty of times in the past himself.
"Unless…" he muttered, eyes narrowing when he considered the possibility that Lycoris could have used silver bullets.
For a split second the smallest of voices told him to stop, that he would be free of his guilt if he would just let Izaya pass before he went any further.
Shiki threw a blanket over the informant for some modesty and returned to the living room with those words circling in his head, trying to ignore them as he pondered where the doctor could have gone. If the bullets were truly silver, then he should definitely not blindly go in with a knife to remove it when it was so close to Izaya's heart.
The news program from earlier was still playing on the television, and he held the remote up to turn it off when the scene made him stop. A reporter stood in front of Ikebukuro's largest hospital, trying to talk into the camera as the crowd surged around him.
"We have received word that they moved Yuuhei Hanejima to the local hospital. Witnesses say that Ruri Hijiribe was with him at the time of the attack, but we are unsure of her condition. They have barricaded anyone but family from visiting, but as you can see, that has not stopped their loyal fans from…"
.
Shizuo paced the length of the waiting room impatiently, trying his hardest not to put a hole through the nearest wall as the frustration continued to mount in his chest. It seemed like an eternity since they had rushed Kasuka into surgery, and every minute that passed only added to his anxiety.
He could see Celty in the corner of his eye sitting quietly on one of the chairs, her presence one of the last tethers to his sanity. She had picked him up in the middle of a job shortly after a panicked phone call from Shinra to hurry to the hospital, and the two of them had managed to enter the building before word reached the masses. He knew it was unlikely for him to get back in if he were to leave now, at least until the police managed to disperse the hysterical fans.
Regardless, the urge to storm over to Shinjuku at this very moment and rip the man responsible for this to shreds only grew the longer he waited.
HIs eyes darted to the outside hallway, expecting the flea to show up any minute to taunt him for his inability to protect his brother, to scoff at the helplessness he felt at the entire situation. He still couldn't wrap his head around how some random punk fan on the streets would happen to have a gun. Izaya must have had some hand in the entire situation; he knew that the other dealt with yakuza frequently.
It would have been easy for the man to have somehow acquired a gun and manipulated its owner towards Kasuka's direction.
"That fucking flea…" he growled, fists clenched at his side as the rage simmered dangerously until it was ready to explode. It was at that moment that a PDA appeared in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.
"I know you want to go after Izaya, but your brother needs you here." Celty stood firmly between him and the exit, nodding to the chairs behind them in the otherwise empty waiting room.
Shizuo sighed, massaging his forehead to relieve some of the tension as he slumped onto the nearest seat. He knew Celty was right. He couldn't let his emotions go unchecked in the hospital, especially with Kasuka's life on the line.
"I wish there was something more I can do," he admitted to his friend.
"Shinra's doing all he can with the other surgeons. I'm sure they'll pull through for Kasuka."
He nodded silently at her words and decided to wait.
It seemed like an eternity before Shinra finally stepped through the door, the doctor's tired demeanor not boding good news.
Shizuo swallowed hard, expecting the worst. "Is he…" he barely managed, feeling as if his body was submerged into an ocean of icy water.
Shinra heaved a weary sigh before adjusting his glasses. "I'm not going to sugar coat it, but he's in bad shape."
"But he's alive?" Shizuo clarified.
"Just barely. We've managed to stabilize him for the time being. Ruri's in the room with him right now. She said Kasuka shielded her when they were attacked."
"I see," Shizuo muttered, the weight of the words slowly sinking in.
Kasuka was alive, he repeated in his head. That was all that mattered.
"Kishitani," a voice from behind interrupted them, and he noticed the doctor instantly stand at attention.
"Ah, Shiki-san. What brings you here?"
Shizuo turned to look at the speaker, a man in a black collared shirt with a rather severe gaze that was currently directed at the doctor. He could make out what seemed to be a blood stain at the edge of the other's rolled cuffs and wondered for a moment if he needed to intervene. He couldn't quite understand why, but the other had the air of a yakuza.
He suddenly considered the possibility that this man could have something to do with Kazuka's assailant, and Shizuo took in a deep breath to calm the spontaneous flare of anger. After all, there were plenty of reasons why a yakuza, or anyone else for that matter, would be at a hospital. His gaze stopped at the small scar that ran down the man's left eyebrow, and his eyes involuntarily narrowed when a certain memory crossed his mind.
Shizuo had seen Izaya get into a black car with the man once.
He was about to take a step forward to confront the other when a hand on his shoulder stopped him, and he turned to see Celty slightly shaking her head. The slight tremble he felt from her stopped him dead in his tracks, and Shizuo bit his lip, forcing himself to wait and assess the situation instead.
"Did the surgery go well?" the man called Shiki asked Shinra.
"Well enough, given the circumstances."
Shiki nodded, eyes briefly stopping on Shizuo and Celty before returning to the doctor. "If you are done here for the moment, I require your assistance in a matter."
"Oh!" Shinra suddenly took out his phone, revealing a long list of missed messages. "My bad, it's been a little hectic here. Where…"
"He's at your apartment as we speak. We need to hurry."
"Was Takahashi-sensei unavailable too?"
"The matter is a little sensitive, unfortunately. I do not wish to take care of Takahashi-sensei should he let anything slip."
Shinra swallowed. "Gotcha. Let's go then."
"I'll come with you," Shizuo offered. He didn't trust this Shiki person for a second, even if the two seemed to know each other.
"No, I'll be fine," Shinra tried to reassure him. "Stay here with Celty, and call me if anything comes up. The trauma surgeons here are pretty good."
"Are you sure?"
Shinra nodded, but Shizuo had his reservations. He supposed he should trust the other for now and instead redirected his frustrations to a certain informant that must be in the middle of all of this.
"Tch, when I get my hands on the flea…"
To his surprise, Shiki finally reacted to those words, eyes narrowing even more than he had thought was possible. "I can assure you, Orihara has nothing to do with the scum that attacked your brother."
.
Shinra had worked with Shiki almost since the beginning of his career as a doctor, and he couldn't recall a time that the other had seemed fazed. The yakuza executive had silently brought in clients with limbs hanging off by mere threads, even ones who eventually did die, but the man never panicked, not even once. He wouldn't say that Shiki was currently nervous, but the other was definitely hovering over him as he unlocked the door to his apartment.
He wondered just who the VIP could be that would warrant such secrecy as he kicked off his shoes and rushed over to the operating room, but his heart sank when he immediately recognized the bloodstained fur trimmed coat lying abandoned on the floor just past the doorway. Shinra took a deep breath to compose himself before he approached the man on the table.
"I figured he was the patient," Shinra managed as he moved the sheet aside to find the blood soaked bandages. "A-Are you sure he's not…"
"He's alive, but barely," Shiki interrupted. "There are two bullets that need to be removed. One in the chest and one in the shoulder. Don't worry about stitching him up."
Shinra swallowed. "He looks dead." He checked for a heartbeat regardless, not believing his fingertips when he felt the faintest of pulses on the pale skin.
"He will be if we wait any longer, doctor," Shiki stated, and Shinra definitely noticed the frustration this time around.
"I got it. Please, wait outside," he found the courage to ask. He didn't particularly want to examine the other with Shiki in the room, especially when Izaya was in this state.
To his surprise, Shiki nodded and started heading for the living room. "Call me if you need anything."
"Will do." He slipped on a mask and some sterile gloves before going through his tools for a suitable scalpel.
Shinra paused for a moment when he saw three pieces of what looked like a silver metal in one of the bowls, each slightly red from Izaya's dried blood.
"Just what happened to you?" he muttered under his breath before he got to work.
.
Shiki lit a cigarette as he sat on the sofa, taking a slow drag while he went over the next course of action in his head. He could always leave Izaya here until the man woke up, but he was still unsure of the side effects of the informant's new vampirism. Izaya could be completely normal, or the other could have gone mad after the transformation. He had heard horror stories from the others in the past, of those who could not handle the ritual.
Shiki supposed that he would have to take the informant home and watch the man until he woke, just to make sure. That, or he could leave Izaya here with Shinra and risk returning to a wrecked bloody apartment should the other awaken in decide to go on a mad rampage with his newfound powers.
The fact that Izaya had still not woken up had to mean that the bullets must be silver. There was no other logical explanation. He made a mental note to have Shinra test them later to make sure.
Shiki supposed he was lucky that he had not touched the metal with his bare hands.
Another possibility would be that Izaya could also just end up sleeping forever. He nearly chewed the cancer stick in half at the thought.
If that were the case, he should have just let the other go.
The news program was still rerunning their segment on the young actor's injuries, and he took out his phone in a sudden burst of inspiration, hoping that his suspicions were wrong. He only had one missed message from Tsukumoya and opened it cautiously, not patient enough at the moment to deal with the other's wrath.
Tsukumoya: [I am adequately calm now. Please stop ignoring me]
It was a far cry from the earlier messages. He supposed the conversation could potentially be fruitful if the other had calmed down enough to text him that.
Shiki: [Why did they go after Ruri?]
Tsukumoya: [Don't look at me. I didn't sell them the information]
Shiki: [But you knew that they had left Orihara behind.]
Tsukumoya: [Fine. I might have known they were going after her next]
Tsukumoya: [They were going to do it anyway, so I didn't try to stop them since I had to send you in to retrieve Izaya]
Tsukumoya: [If it makes you feel better, Izaya probably didn't give them the information either. I saw her name on their list ages ago]
Shiki took another drag from the cigarette, contemplating the new information. He had heard that Lycoris had actively been searching for vampires but had never bothered looking into why, so long as they didn't come hunting for him. Judging by what they had done to Izaya and the actor, it seemed things were starting to become serious.
Shiki: [Are they hunters?]
Tsukumoya: [I can't tell yet]
Tsukumoya: [They haven't gotten their hands on a full vampire yet]
Tsukumoya: [I hope you're not volunteering]
Shiki: [Of course not]
Tsukumoya: [How is Izaya doing?]
Shiki: [We're removing the bullets right now.]
Shiki: [They might have been silver. He hasn't woken up.]
There was a slight pause on Tsukumoya's end before the other finally continued with two simple words.
Tsukumoya: [I see]
Shiki sighed and placed the phone down before snuffing out what was left of his cigarette out on the ashtray.
"Ah, Shiki-san…" The sound of his name snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see Shinra shuffling uncomfortably at the door. "I've removed the bullets, but…" the doctor paused for a moment, likely trying to find the right words. Shiki knew that the other must have noticed Izaya's wounds healing much quicker than normal by now. "He's extremely anemic. Am I able to give him a blood transfusion or would that cause some problems?"
Shinra was quick to catch onto Izaya's exact condition, it seemed. "That should be fine. Please do."
He followed Shinra back into the operating room silently, watching the man shuffle about and connect an IV line to a bag of blood. He could almost sense the apprehension radiating off the other and decided to alleviate some of Shinra's anxiety. The doctor had done enough for him as is.
"You must have a lot of questions," he stated.
"I'm just a little surprised, that's all," Shinra admitted. "I didn't think that Izaya would ever make such a choice. He loves humans, after all."
Shiki grimaced at those words and chose not to comment, the weight of the scene back at the hideout finally replaying in his head despite his constant attempts to drown it out.
He knew ignoring it was futile.
"Do you want to live?"
Those cracked lips, far from the soft pink he was so accustomed to staring at, merely turned up slightly into a small smile before Izaya's previously sharp eyes closed, almost as in resignation.
Shiki didn't know what had happened next, only that his teeth were on the informant's neck, the exquisite blood finally trickling down his tongue when he bit down.
No, he refused to let Izaya die, not like this.
Ok! I decided to make this a Shikizaya story~ Regardless, I hope you'll enjoy the ride :)