[You never wear your bartender uniform anymore.] Celty noted with a curious rise of her shoulders and a little tilt of her distinctive helmet.
And indeed, the strongest man in Ikebukuro was today sporting a light blue t-shirt and a casual jacket, and he looked like a completely different person. Though not the least bit as formal, he didn't suddenly look like a slouching teenager either. There was an elegance in the way his slim but strong frame held itself straight even when relaxed. He looks like the famous actor he could have been had he taken the same path as his brother.
Shizuo blew out some smoke and shrugged. "It wasn't like that uniform did me any good anyway, other than make me stand out enough to pick a fight with."
[Well, you look good for it too! I'm glad you finally got over your sentiment about your little brother giving those to you.]
Shizuo read her message and put the cigarette back in his mouth, looking at the sky all of a sudden. "Not really. Kasuka just got me some real nice new ones. And those were for my actual work uniform now too, so I'd taken to wearing those instead on my workdays."
[You have a new job!? I was so busy! I totally missed all that. What happened? What do you do now?]
"Well, it's kind of a long story." In fact, it traced all the way back to a month or so earlier, when Shizuo let a bit of kindness leak out to his mortal enemy, helped him out, and cooked him a meal.
Shizuo thought he would regret helping Izaya that winter day when he didn't seem at all like himself, but he never really did. Though it didn't change the general distaste he had always felt against the cocky informant, the act itself wasn't something that nag at his conscience.
And it had probably changed his life.
At first, of course, there was nothing different to notice. He went about his days as normal, collecting debts, losing his temper left and right, getting into trouble. Gangs never leave him alone. Whatever unrest was going on in the city, Shizuo found himself if not at the periphery, then at the epicenter of it. He gets his salary, then turns around and have to pay the recompense for broken city signs, vending machines, medical bills. He never sees his famous little brother, or his friends much, come to think of it.
But then a few weeks later, as winter was waning, something miraculous happened.
A gangster met Shizuo's eyes by intention or accident—and never did anything to provoke him. He passed by like a total bystander.
And it wasn't that he went unrecognized, in fact he was sporting his usual bartender uniform and sunglasses, cigarette in hand and Tom in tow as always.
There was recognition in those gangsters' faces, just no fight.
Shizuo was barely able to register the fact of the peaceful encounter when the same thing happened again. And again. And again.
Everywhere he went, nobody picked fights with him. Instead of losing his temper several times a week, it went down to once a week—courtesy of the occasional unintelligent debtor—then none at all within a month.
Then, in that month, a businessman approached him politely and asked if they could talk. He was recruiting people for a specific, dangerous job. So, Shizuo agreed to meet the man over at Russian Sushi and hear him out.
"So, he basically scouted me out for my tendency to destroy things," Shizuo told Celty.
[What kind of job is that?]
"Demolition work," Shizuo said, "the legal kind, when people wants an old building destroyed and cleared out so they can build something else there? That's what I do now."
[That's…pretty amazing actually!]
"It pays much better than I thought too, cuz apparently they save a lot of money on equipment, so the company pays me extra under the table in exchange for not complying with some safety regulations or labor law or whatever that man said."
[Normal people wouldn't be able to do what you do safely.]
"Exactly. And I have to be right there in the midst of collapsing stuff, so they also pay me dangerous job compensations."
[So are you happier at this new job?]
Shizuo actually breathed out a gentle laugh at the question. How like Celty to ask such a thing.
"Hell yeah. Much more reasonable people to interact with. No more dregs of the society ignoring threats and being irresponsible. Not that I can judge, but those people used to piss me off."
Celty nodded enthusiastically. [I get exactly what you mean.]
"And you know what, Celty?" Shizuo mused idly, "It makes me…understand more stuff about myself too, this new job I have."
[Oh?]
"I knew I was a monster, but I didn't know I could be a monster in this…controlled way. You need to break things a very specific way you know, so the building collapses in a way that doesn't knock down other things around it? The coffee shop opposite the street, the apartment with sleeping babies a block over. Things you don't want to get knocked down."
[I think I understand. You learned how to control your strength, in a way.]
That comment made Shizuo break into a guffaw. To him, it was so ironic that such a thing would ever be said about his life experiences. Control. The only thing he'd never had, and thought he never will.
"You're right, Celty…. You're exactly right."
"So, I want to make a bet with you." Shinra's voice said over the phone, causing Izaya's eyes to narrow. Orihara Izaya is nothing if not the master of calculated risk-taking, and a bet from Shinra sounds both suspicious and exciting. The informant uncrossed his legs and leaned forward on his sofa.
Shinra continued, "I bet that I can get Shizuo to go on a date with you."
Complete, utter silence. Then, a bellowing laughter. We all know what a maniacal, crazed laughter from Orihara Izaya sounds like, and this one is undoubtedly one of them. It lasted for an uncontrollable, slightly too long moment, before Izaya said still suppressing a laugh, "And what would I get if you lose?"
"If I lost, you can promise a month of my free services to the next client that you need to persuade." Shinra said without any qualms in his voice, "Your clients always need some clandestine doctor visits, don't they?"
It would indeed make an extremely valuable bargaining chip, and Izaya knew it, which was why he stopped laughing. Would Shinra work for free and give Izaya such advantage if he's not confident?
"What if I lost?" The informant asked his old friend.
Shinra's voice became teasing, "What, you don't think Shizuo is going to hit me in the gut with an electric pole if I dared bring up such a topic? Where's your confidence?"
"I don't take risks I cannot control. You've been in the underground long enough to know that much. And for the livelihoods of those under your care, who tend to be interesting people and make excellent chips in my game, I wouldn't wish such a fate upon you, Shinra."
Izaya's hand moved to his formerly dislocated shoulder, which has gotten out of the sling but has yet to regain its full movement range or strength. He knew what even a clipping blow from one of Shizuo's projectiles can do. Even the secondary impact—him bouncing off the wall after the hit threw him forward and to the side—had left him with ugly and painful bruises long after.
"Well," Shinra said, "If Shizuo agrees to date you, then the price is that you go on the date."
Izaya lurched forward on his seat and coughed, subject to another bout of maniacal laughter, managing somehow to also choke on his own saliva in the process.
"There's no way Shizu-chan would agree." He said when the coughing and laughing relented.
"How confident are you of that?" Shinra challenged.
"Prepare to work that free month because I'm going to use it." The informant said.
"Deal, then. I'll call you when I hear back from Shizuo-kun."
Author's note: A continuation to this long-published story. I re-watched Durarara recently and it is as good or even better than I remembered. Shoutout to long-term fans of the series (and the Shizaya ship) like myself!