Chapter 21: Overwhelmed

It was cold.

Freezing actually.

How long had Izaya been inside the fishery hut? Half an hour? Less?

The warmth inside had tricked his body into lowering its defenses when it came to the gush of ice that now crept up the back of his legs and into his coat.

He felt like a second rate movie character wearing one of Creston's black collar notched winter mantles, but after departing the night club there had not been any extra time left to fetch his own.

A full moon was touching everywhere it possibly could and Izaya slowly moved back towards the parked limousine.

The driver spared him not a single glance, and sometimes Izaya wondered who it was that was driving Creston around in the first place. Was he even aware of what was going on?

It took no longer than a minute to approach the back of the car, and even less to slip back inside into the warmth provided by the interior of the vehicle.

Looking up from his phone Creston had obviously not spared a single thought on Izaya's safety which was as much of a praise and sign of trust as it was a harsh reminder of how easily Izaya could be replaced the second Creston got tired of him.

"Well done," the guy announced without even looking into Izaya's direction as he finished replying to a text on his phone. "As expected."

Bringing results was the number one reason Izaya was being kept inside this industry. But simply completing orders was slowly but surely starting to become an underwhelming constant.

Letting his back nuzzle into the soothing warmth of the limousine's seat heating function Izaya shrugged with as much nonchalance as he could muster.

"Khrushchev wants some coke for his own men additionally to the one million," Izaya shrugged while pulling the heavy mantle off his body.

Creston might be starting to get used to proper results, but Izaya was starting to get used to negotiations and their exploitable framework as well.

He didn't even need to turn his head to envision Creston's expression as he repeated the negligible sum.

"One million?" he repeated and Izaya grinned confidently.

It was half of what Creston had offered.

Had Ekaterina insisted on a rise of her remuneration this was the kind of sum Izaya could have used.

It was a gamble as much as it was a security measure to start with half the sum. Because if negotiations had gone south, the real south, not the kind where she was testing him, then he could have easily wormed his way out by sucking up to her and offering double the amount negotiated to compensate for his misstep.

And it was a countermeasure to Creston as well.

Eyes set on Izaya in absolute surprise he had not seen his answer coming at all.

"You asked me to keep it low, didn't you?" Izaya shrugged, very well aware that he had more than fulfilled the requirements. It was a faint sensation of superiority and pride that filled his eyes for a second as he glanced towards Creston.

A mistake.

Izaya knew what he was worth.

And of course his intention had been to impress Creston to remain in his favor.

But the eyes, now scaling his body up and down the second he spoke, were far from what he had anticipated.

Eyes of lust.

Greed.

And control.

He could see the growing tent in Creston's pants from here and the involuntary need to retch was quickly detained.

Funny.

The limousine had been cozily warm, especially the back heating, but right now he felt nothing but cold.

"Life is unfair. To be this attractive and smart in one person- what did you do, strike a deal with the devil?" Creston whispered slowly in an attempt to sound seductive.

His words were brimming with meanings of arbitrary nature.

Izaya could almost hear the way he wanted to tear his clothes off his body and force him to suck his dick right here inside the car.

His body stiffened beyond tension and his reluctance to act upon Creston's wish only seemed to fuel his desire further.

It was when Creston reached out towards Izaya and halted midair, that he seemed to remember his own mysophobia and his disgusting fantasy retracted to the depths of his sick mind.

But the tent inside his pants still refused to go down and so Creston smiled.

"We should head home now that the deal is done," he announced, and somehow, despite being used to this interaction and used to what was to come, Izaya suddenly felt an overwhelming urge of flee.

The pride and satisfaction he had felt over acing this deal like no one else but him could had disappeared all too quickly, leaving nothing but the bitter aftertaste of being a tool that was to be used at any time needed.

Grasping the handle Izaya was quicker to open the car's door than Creston was to speak.

"You might want to go on first. I merely came for a quick report. They want to talk about a few more details, but nothing that should be concerning," he lied on the fly, knowing well enough that Ekaterina was not going to be amused if he were to set foot into her fishery hut again so soon after departing.

But gladly Creston knew none of that.

Not of her nature, her name, her gender or the way she acted. He hadn't asked either, because knowing things was the number one reason that got someone killed in this business- and that was exactly why it was Izaya's job to do the knowing.

Disappointment grazed Creston's face at the obvious denial of his favorite porn material and he sighed softly.

"You don't need me anymore I suppose?" he asked, and Izaya realized with great relief that Creston had failed to call his bullshit.

"Have I ever needed you in negotiations?"

Creston snorted, "I do wonder why I even bother to accompany you." And a small window connecting the back to the front was removed by a simple flick of a switch.

Glancing over his shoulder the driver waited for further instructions.

"We are going home," Creston announced, and Izaya quickly slipped out of the car.

The mantle had been left behind and the cold immediately claimed Izaya as a whole- and yet it was a better sensation than the inside of that limousine.

Lights flared as the engine of the limousine was finally allowed to start up and before Izaya knew it the vehicle was gone.

Rolled down the road.

Just like that.

And taking a deep breath Izaya closed his eyes for the moment of singular peace that he attained.

He was stupid.

It wasn't like he was going to be able to run away from this forever.

The second he arrived back home, Creston was sure to be waiting. It wasn't even like he evaded his fate, he just delayed it. By an undefined amount of time, that is.

But it was time he needed.

Just for a bit.

Breath forming soft clouds of white before his face, Izaya looked into the direction of a highway not too far. It was settled up high on a bridge leading back into the heart of the city. Creston was probably leaving this area on it right about now.

It took Izaya a minute to walk over. Another to ascend the stairs.

And under a few seconds until a taxi halted upon spotting his sign.

Wooden pearls decorating the driver's seat and decoration of similar fashion revealed this man's ethnicity before speaking with a light Indian accent.

"The address?" he asked, and somehow Izaya couldn't be bothered to think about a location.

"Just drive for a while," he announced and offered a clasp full of money. He didn't really count the amount, but it should very well suffice for the entire night if not beyond, and the driver noticed that fact upon a single glance.

Immediately shutting up he took the money and the engine roared as the car moved on.

Light after light flashed past Izaya's face as he looked at the variety of cars traversing the highway.

The light smell of fast food and perfume inside the car, stemming most likely from former guests, was as much disgusting as it was comforting.

Because this was very clearly not Creston's limousine.

Not Creston's apartment, nor any other location out for his life.

Light hums of an unknown song left the driver's lips after a couple minutes and somehow Izaya didn't find himself minding.

The guy was happy.

Had received more than enough money for the entire night. He would be driving him to the moon and back if Izaya so wished, and somehow it was at least slightly uplifting to know he had made at least someone's day a good one.

And somehow the second he felt that small glimpse of joy it was crushed with pictures of the night.

The guns.

Aimed at his face.

Khrushchev.

Creston's glance.

The maniac on the dance floor.

Hands folding and touching his chin and forehead alike, Izaya closed his eyes for a few seconds that seemed to last an eternity.

He had done well.

He was the perfect negotiator.

His skills outshone everyone no matter their professions or experience.

When it came down to it he was able to focus like an athlete seconds before calling forth his maximum performance desired for a competition.

But afterwards?

All of a sudden the collar of his black shirt seemed much too tight and Izaya quickly tore at the buttons keeping it shut.

But the wires around his neck refused to fade and Izaya took a deep breath.

"Should I open the window?"

The question came as much unexpected as it was appreciated. Torn from his thoughts and the darkness he looked at his driver.

Having heard Izaya he thought he minded the smell of the car and quickly offered some fresh air.

A smile crept upon his lips as he quickly negated the offer.

"No, thank you."

Nodding to himself, pleased that his favorite guest wasn't dissatisfied, the guy's eyes followed the road again and Izaya sighed.

Chains.

Invisible but everlasting.

They were what caused this sinking feeling in his gut. This sensation of no escape.

Being overwhelmed was no option at no point in time.

He had to function and he had to make things work.

Glancing at a clock installed at a nearby park Izaya realized how deeply the night had progressed.

4am.

His duty was done.

He bluffed his way out of Creston's car.

Out of Ekaterina's proximity.

Away from the guns.

Away from degradation.

For now.

And his eyes narrowed as he glared at the solid black taking up his pants.

What was this sudden urge to act?

This sensation of loss?

As if he were approaching a dead end with no brakes to his car.

Nothing indicated that he had messed up his job.

It was right then that he remembered his assaulter.

The guy that had tried to shoot him in the oval lounge.

It had been a no name. Not part of any groups Izaya was aware of. No criminal, young too.

For all Izaya surmised he was probably out for personal revenge. But the gun he had acquired was left behind and the fingerprints taken matched with no known criminal.

It was a one time event.

A fluke caused by a moment of inattentiveness.

And that was exactly the reason why he needed to get his act together.

The car was going in happy circles by now as his driver was running out of ideas on turns and Izaya didn't find himself minding.

Lights passed.

Time too.

It was after the fifth time of passing the local bank that Izaya spoke.

"Where are we?"

He was very well aware of his surroundings, but somehow he found himself longing for a conversation.

"Just inside the city, sir. We can return to the highway if you like."

A red light had pulled up as the driver seemed to have chosen a different route through the city and Izaya let his head lean against the seat.

He was tired.

In more senses than one.

He should leave.

There was no sense in driving around the city for ages. Nor any benefit.

But where to?

Go home?

No.

He could of course.

Creston would be there.

And after what he had in mind for today's finale, he could finally sleep.

But-

Eyes squinting, Izaya looked at the ceiling. And suddenly it was just there.

Shizuo's face.

The bar.

The cozy atmosphere.

Drinks void of alcohol and conversations holding no danger.

And an unexplainable urge to return to the club surfaced from the depths of his mind.

Alone.

Without Creston waiting for his actions or a limit to his words.

"Night Salvage," Izaya suddenly announced, and jerked the driver out of his own set of thoughts as he jumped in his skin. "You know the club?" he asked, and the driver quickly showed his best smile as he nodded eagerly at his best guest of his entire lifetime.

"Of course I do, sir."

The silly decorations made of wooden pearls at the top of the mirror softly bumped into each other as the driver set the car onto the right path, and Izaya sighed as he closed his eyes.

"Bring me there."

to be continued~

I know i know this update is a little bit shorter, but no worries, next one will be 3400 words long instead of 2500 to make up for it xD