Chapter 17: Maniac
It was rare. Both the event of indulging into the usually too bothersome effect of alcohol, and his current location.
The midst of the dancefloor was something Izaya usually avoided as well as he could. Moving his body in awkward motions trying to attract other people like mating animals seemed all too dull to him. Which didn't mean he wasn't able to dance. He was. There was not much difficulty in mimicking what he saw and yet it was a rarity.
Being drunk was not his goal, but he couldn't deny that the soft brimming sensation wrapping his head like a soft layer of foil wasn't a pleasant one.
The single glass wasn't going to affect his active decisions at least, and he didn't need to fear an unnatural surge in confidence that might have driven him to wrong actions.
Having sped up earlier, the beats of the music slowed down again as the DJ was well aware no one could keep dancing at such a quick pace forever and so Izaya's body slowed as well.
It might have been a funny comparison, but somehow Izaya found himself outside on the streets on a sunday morning. With no people present, fresh air and a feeling of peace that was rarely attained. A ridiculous idea considering he was standing in the midst of a crowd and the noise around him was anything but quiet, and yet he couldn't help but feel a similarity.
Maybe it was the way he knew he was left alone, to his own thoughts, with no one in the world interrupting.
Lights flashed, golden, gray and white. The various jewels, or what Izaya suspected to be skillfully sanded glass, reflected the colors a hundred fold and he felt as though he was dancing in the midst of stars.
Ah.
That's probably why some people called this the night sky lounge.
Izaya had never bothered with silly nicknames and yet the newest conclusion brought him joy.
Occasional glances were thrown into his direction by people he knew and didn't know. It wasn't uncommon for him to be approached, so he didn't find himself caring all too much about the eyes set on his body.
Usually that is.
Cold and unnaturally tense Izaya felt his body stiffen despite still being in motion as he threw a glance across his shoulder.
They were still there.
Those eyes.
Only a few minutes after he had trailed to the dancefloor he noticed them. The stares executed by a single human.
Moving away ever so slightly he tried to get out of this person's sight. It was a man. Tall, broad shoulders. Hair shorter than a bug's lifespan and an array of tattoos sneaked up the side of his neck. Hollow eyes were settled deep into a skull lacking the most common practises of self care and sleep.
At first Izaya thought he was a client. Maybe someone sent out by the russians. A secret agent looking for betrayal of any kind. But when those eyes went up and down Izaya's body he somehow felt his heart take a leap.
Predatory.
That's what his glance was.
And suddenly the guy moved.
Stance strong and body ready for any form of physical assault, Izaya's eyes narrowed as the man forced his way past a couple other guests.
Running was no option. Because at the end of the day Izaya held more power in here than he did on the streets and so he locked eyes with the guy as he came over.
It wasn't the one that had tried to shoot him at least- that was the first thought that skipped his mind as he was offered a more detailed view of this man's face.
Sunken eyes. Too far gone to stem from sleep deprivation only.
A chiseled jaw, forced to surface by lack of nutrition and the faint hint of cigarettes and alcohol wafted from his body.
A grin, shown last as soon as he faced Izaya, was the last detail needed to know that this guy wasn't completely sane as he bared a set of purposefully sharpened teeth.
It was a gruesome sight, one that would cause little kids nightmares.
But obviously this style of appearance was this stranger's wish.
In short he was nothing else but a weirdo.
No words left his lips either as Izaya waited for the guy to strike a conversation. Because that's what people usually did when you faced them, right?
Not this guy.
Grinning broadly with his eyes settled on Izaya he merely stood and waited for time to pass as though just looking at Izaya had been his goal all along.
But the avid stare was anything but pleasant and Izaya felt his eyes narrow in mild annoyance.
Was he on a trip?
What did he take?
No matter what it was, he wasn't in the mood to deal with scum like this.
"Can you leave?"
"Три раза в день я ем! Три!" the maniac suddenly laughed and tilted his head to the side as if he had told the best joke in the universe.
Izaya, however, didn't really feel the urge to reciprocate that humor.
He was eating three times a day? What was that even supposed to mean?
At least now he knew the language being used and so he sighed annoyed, "Что ты говоришь? Get lost." But asking the guy what he was talking about seemed to be the least productive choice of action Izaya could have taken.
"Три раза! Три раза!" he repeated and suddenly Izaya realized this guy wasn't even enjoying a personally tailored trip.
He had a screw loose.
An uncanny sensation clutched the bottom of his stomach in a way that robbed Izaya of his air.
A woman's face, known too well to ever forget returned to his memory and his guts involuntarily sank.
"Move," Izaya ordered, his eyes set to a glare, but of course there was no talking to maniacs. Again the guy rambled in Russian and blocked Izaya's way, "Три раза! Три раза! Три раза-!" he repeated, louder and louder- and Izaya choked upon the sight. Upon the repetition. A repetition he knew better than he liked.
Over and over and over he said the same thing- louder and louder-
People were starting to notice, especially those nearby and slowly but surely starting to take their distance.
Again the maniac spoke words of unclear intention and nonsensical semantics and somehow the action spurred madness in Izaya. Anger, hot and boiling surfaced from his eyes as he glared at the guy.
"Get lost," he hissed between tight lips- and suddenly the maniac's expression slipped. From happy go lucky to angry- and somehow that shift was much scarier than the nonsense he had spat as he yelled. "ЧТО ТЫ ГОВОРИШЬ?!" he barked, much louder than before and suddenly he reached for Izaya-
"I said get lost-" Izaya hissed, and slapped the hand reaching out for him- only for it to remain still as the guy didn't budge in the slightest-
He was tall, probably ruined his body beyond repair, but strong, at least stronger than him when it came to a physical fight, and that fact suddenly left a very uncanny sensation on Izaya's lips.
And suddenly it was there.
A hand clutching the maniac's wrist, turning it away from Izaya.
"Hey, he told you to fuck off."
Blond hair moved into Izaya's field of vision as Shizuo picked that hand away with the kind of ease that was executed when bending a piece of jelly.
Incredulous rage reflected in the bastard's expression as he jerked his arm free from Shizuo's grasp.
People were watching.
Izaya was too, and more than he liked to admit, he was glad that Shizuo had appeared.
"ТРИ РАЗА!" the maniac suddenly laughed his words with a glare, and before Izaya knew it the guy moved-
And spat in Shizuo's face.
Peaceful. Gentle. Smiling and patient.
That's what Izaya had seen the bartender look like for the vast majority of the time he had spent in his company.
None of that was to be spotted as Shizuo's expression slipped into one of incredulous rage, unstoppable by anything but raw force-
His fist moved before Izaya even knew what was going on and the maniac kissed the floor face first and teeth less and he was punched down hard enough to bounce off the ground once.
Soft gasps resounded from the few guests nearby that had witnessed the weirdo's actions and they took a step back in reflex.
Caught off guard Izaya turned to look at Shizuo too- his knuckles were bleeded and he wiped the spit off his face leaving a blood smear as he knelt down onto the ground with an air of invisible danger.
And suddenly he spoke.
Raw. Mad. And russian.
"Вернись, и я убью тебя."
Return and I will kill you.
Had anybody else said those words they would have probably evoked some laughter, or caused a raise of eyebrows, but right now rather than a threat they served nothing but the sure truth of what was to come.
Crawling backwards on the ground like the damned cockroach of a person he was, even the maniac seemed to understand what it meant to face this man.
"Shizuo!" The female bartender aiding the blond behind the bar suddenly called from the side and Izaya noticed she had hurried over, alongside one of the doormen.
"Sorry, I don't know how he got past me," the guy apologized with guilty honesty and Shizuo rose from the ground.
The patience he always showed was back in place and he nodded as if he had merely wiped away a stain left behind by a glass's rim.
"All good. Just get him out," he announced calmly, and the doorman did.
He was met with surprisingly little resistance as the maniac seemed to have understood that it was time to keep his fucking mouth shut.
And Izaya?
Izaya could do nothing but stare. Dumbfounded. Honestly dumbfounded.
"Ah, you are bleeding!" Evelyn pointed out, as his knuckles had torn from the raw blow he had dealt, but Shizuo barely even heard her as he watched the bastard being removed from the lounge.
"I don't mind," he mumbled, arguably a bit absentminded and not quite aware of what he was saying. But his colleague was quick to correct that mistake.
"But I do!" Louder than expected she had raised her voice and Shizuo snapped out of his stare as he turned to look at her.
Worry and gentleness of a kind only a mother could muster, showed on her expression and Shizuo stilled as he realized what he had to look like.
His stoic expression relaxed and his gaze softened as he nodded with a sigh.
Quicker than he could follow her, she had already fetched a rag from the counter and folded it around some fresh ice before pushing it onto his knuckles.
"Keep it there, it should soothe the skin, I will fetch some bandaid-" she spoke quickly, and before Shizuo knew it she was gone.
And Izaya? Izaya couldn't do much but stare.
Timid, oddly out of place and dumbfounded.
"You wanted to continue serving with a bleeding hand?" he asked, intending for his question to sound like a joke, and yet his words somehow lacked their usual bite and volume.
A simple shrug was given as Shizuo used the rag he had been handed to wipe his face. "Would serve a whole new definition of a bloody mary, wouldn't you agree?" he snorted, and his expression was back.
His witty, flirty and challenging smile that he had shown Izaya so many times before.
This was nothing to him. Not even worth mentioning. Just as the guy he had kept off Izaya the day before.
And somehow Izaya found himself oddly speechless and void of a witty reply. Maybe it was the act of not ranting on forever, or an expression he made, but Shizuo's face shifted as quick as he realized the lack of words.
Stoic seriosity returned as quick as it had appeared earlier as he frowned.
"Did he harm you?"
Honest concern. Nothing but that reflected from those words and Izaya found himself awfully lacking a convincing answer.
"No." He replied. But honestly, that no almost sounded like a yes even to his own ears and Shizuo's eyes darkened.
"Sorry, I can't deal with that kind of maniacs-" Izaya quickly added, but his answer was a wrong one.
"Why are you the one apologizing?"
Surprised by the question, Izaya blinked. And faster than his mind was able to understand what Shizuo was talking about he continued. "He came to you not the other way round."
And somehow those words felt like searing knives, settling into his skin. Emotions, not connected to the present at all, resurfaced somewhere from the back of his mind.
Guilt. Regret. Bubbling up like there was no end to them, they swallowed Izaya whole.
Shizuo was merely looking at him, and yet somehow it felt as though he was seeing right through him. Much more than Izaya wanted him to. It was an uncanny sensation and one Izaya wasn't sure he liked.
"Izaya, are you sure you are alright?" Shizuo suddenly asked and the usage of Izaya's name somehow felt like an arrow. Shot at him without wearing armor as it pierced his guts.
And suddenly it was just Shizuo.
The way he stood there, concerned for someone he shouldn't be, noticing things he shouldn't see, somehow took Izaya's breath away for a second.
The past conversations held between them suddenly seemed too vivid and his presence oppressive and his tongue too loose.
Izaya felt better, simply by looking at Shizuo and he quickly shook his head as if the motion were able to chase this feeling away.
The wine must be getting to him after all.
"I didn't know you speak russian." Izaya suddenly said, and for some reason Shizuo felt as though Izaya was bringing up barriers. The question was an obvious distraction, a bad one too considering the way he had simply refused to answer his question.
But wasn't that distraction in itself enough of an answer?
A gentle smile mustered its way to Shizuo's features as he found himself agreeing with Izaya's words and a challenge formed on his lips.
"There are a lot of things you don't know about me."
Izaya wasn't stupid.
He was giving him space.
The kind of distance he wanted without ditching him off the rim.
And Izaya swallowed a reply as the bartender turned to return to his counter.
Somehow the thank you he was supposed to voice got stuck in his throat and he could do nothing but look at Shizuo as he moved.
His actions before repeated by themselves in Izaya's mind. The way Shizuo knocked that guy down. The way he wiped his cheek. His glare. His low raspy voice with the faintest hint of an accent.
The action too.
He flung that maniac off like he was a lightweight.
Impressiv.
Yet he seemed uninterested in any women admiring him.
Slowly but surely peace ruled the night sky lounge again and the guests that had previously watched the small commotion had returned to their respective partners and topic of chatter.
This was his chance.
Izaya could leave. Right now, with no strings attached and forget that this ever happened.
And yet- looking towards the bar Izaya couldn't help but feel he would miss out on an opportunity if he left.
to be continued~
Ah yes, who doesn't know them, those fine people you meet on public transport and just hope they don't take notice of you or offense in the way you -exist- xD
For anyone wondering this was based on an actual encounter I had this year, and yes that bastard did spit in my face too xD
But I didn't punch him in his face haha -wished I could have lmao- Instead we called the police and they removed him xD
Which is probably the more anticlimactic, but wiser decision x'D
Anyway~ I hope you are prepared for a long night, because this little date is far from over C:
See you next friday~