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Blind Fury	By : HollowedRose Category: > Durarara!! (?????!! Dyurarara!!) Views: 6534 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Durarara!! and its characters. They belong to Ryohgo Narita. I'm not making any profit from this.

Chapter List
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No matter how many times Heiwajima Shizuo chased Orihara Izaya out of Ikebukuro, the Information Broker would always come back. It was an undeniable fact, and Shizuo held no pointless belief that things had miraculously changed in the span of a couple of days. Sighing in annoyance, his squinted eyes darted around in the vain hope of finding the insect (a nickname Shizuo often used to refer to his archenemy), but he was unable to locate him no matter how hard he focused on his task, mostly due to the fact that the raindrops falling from the sky and splashing onto the pavement considerably lowered one's visibility during dusk. Unfortunately, not spotting him right away did not mean that Izaya was not somewhere nearby, waiting for the right moment to reveal his disgusting smug face and ruin Shizuo's day, the insect's sole presence bringing about chaos in both his life and in the city that never seemed to sleep.

It was always the same for Shizuo, the despicable louse showing up in Ikebukuro to either conduct shady business or to piss him off just for his own sick amusement, as though Izaya got his kicks out of riling him up on a daily basis. The flea should get in line, thought a scowling Shizuo as he took out a cigarette from a slightly crumpled pack, placed it between his lips and lit it up. He took a drag from it and slowly exhaled the smoke, repeating the action a few more times until the itching need to satisfy his vice temporarily diminished. He felt as though he was a bomb ready to explode, and the fact that his day off from work couldn’t have started any worse didn't exactly help matters either.

That morning, he had been woken up from his sleep by someone knocking on the door, and no matter how hard he tried to ignore the noise grating on his nerves, he eventually got out of bed, mind set on beating to a bloody pulp the person who didn't seem to know when to give up. There were three more knocks during the time it took Shizuo to get from his bed to the door, the desire to murder the man growing exponentially until reaching critical mass as the extremely aggravating sound somehow summoned vivid imagines of nails being hammered into his brain.

“'the hell you want?!” Shizuo snarled after he grabbed the handle and yanked it backwards, the door falling from one of its hinges from the sheer strength he put behind the action.

“He-Hei-Heiwajima Shi-Shizuo-san?” the man stuttered the name because of how badly his body shook with terror.

“Yeah, what do you want?” Shizuo growled out the words while trying his best to keep his rage in check so that he wouldn't crush to fine dust the much smaller man before him after finally figuring out that the guy was there to deliver something (if the clothes he was wearing were anything to go by).

The handle broke in Shizuo’s hand and the man yelped, his previously small eyes comically widening and almost bulging out of his skull at the terrifying display of raw strength. “I’m s-so so-sorry, Hei-Heiwajima-s-san!!!” the man stammered once again and took a deep bow before running away on shaky legs.

Shizuo blinked a few times as he watched the retreating form before he shrugged and moved to close the door. It was only then when he finally noticed the neat box placed against the outside wall of his apartment. As far as he knew, the man should've gotten his signature, so he scratched his head in confusion as he stared at it for a few moments before he bent down to pick it up in order to identify the sender. His expression softened a bit when he read the name written on the label, after which he gently lifted the box, turned around and kicked the door shut behind him. He could feel the tension in his body slowly starting to ebb away and he smiled fondly as he sat down on the couch and proceeded to open the package. Judging by the look and the size of the box, he had an idea about what was inside, so when his eyes fell on the unexpected, he didn't know how to react.

“Eh?!” Shizuo exclaimed none too smartly. For once, he was at a complete loss for words. He blinked a few times, but then his brows furrowed in confusion and he clenched his fingers into the expensive-looking material of the varied clothing articles before he picked them up one by one and dropped them on the couch, not expecting to receive such gifts from his little brother because Kasuka usually sent him bartender uniforms as an incentive for him to work harder on keeping his job at the bar.

He thought that would be all, so he felt his stomach churn when his eyes fell on the seemingly innocent piece of paper placed at the bottom of the now empty box. His limbs shook with fine tremors as he slowly picked it up and opened it, after which his vision started wavering while his mind assimilated the meaning of the written words.

These should be of more help to you

now that you've lost your job at the bar.

Love, Kasuka

As the feeling of shame began to grow, the belief that he had once again disappointed his brother tore at his heart. He slowly balled his hand into a clenched fist, crumpling the accursed piece of paper and puncturing skin with how hard he was squeezing it. Droplets of blood fell down on the worn-out carpet, but he didn't notice with how hard his mind was being bombarded by strong feelings of self-loathing.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, now he knows that I lost my job, he thought in a panic, unsure of how to face Kasuka now that his younger sibling had most likely realized that his brother was a lost cause. Feeling completely defeated, he reclined against the couch and covered his eyes with the back of his other hand while hopelessness overtook both his body and mind. He stayed like that for a long time, drowning in self-loathing as he recalled all those times when he ended up disappointing his friends and family because of his unrestrained rage.

It was always the same, with him trying his best to lead a normal life until the smallest of things set him off and he would end up destroying everyone and everything in his path. He was aware that he had problems and that he was beyond help, but it still hurt to know there was nothing he could do to change the awful human being that he was. No, not a human being, a monster, he thought dejectedly, and since he lacked the will to even do something as simple as getting up, he stared at the ceiling for a long time as the hours ticked by awfully slow while his mind was being bombarded by all sorts of painful memories.

That had been his day until then, along with aimlessly wandering Ikebukuro's streets for hours on end because the air in his apartment felt terribly suffocating. Scowling, he retrieved the lighter and the almost empty cigarette pack from the pocket of his bartender uniform pants before he pulled one out and placed it between his lips. He sighed as the taste of nicotine flooded his lungs after the first smoke, and he only managed to go through a quarter of the cigarette before the rain suddenly started pouring and he was forced to get rid of it while he waited inside a store.

Heiwajima Shizuo was the sort of creature who enjoyed basking in the sun all day long, the proof being the ever present purple tinted-glasses that he wore. He hated the rain in general, but at that moment he despised it more than usual because the cold air seeping into his bones was making him more irritated than he already was. At some point he tried to block out the annoying voices buzzing around him, but that proved to be an impossible feat. Resigning himself to his fate, he leaned against the doorway and watched the gloomy outside world as the cover of the night progressively settled upon the usually lively city, the rain slowly relenting until finally stopping altogether.

Growing tired of brooding over his general inadequacy, Shizuo figured that it was best to simply go home and sleep it off because there was nothing else for him to do besides waiting for the next day when he'd go back to work and hopefully vent his fury on some scum who deserved to get his head repeatedly slammed into a wall. For the first time in his life, he was looking forward to brutally beating up someone.

Mind set on going back to his apartment, he sighed and ran a hand through his dyed locks in resignation, but before he even had a chance to take a step outside the store, the bane of his existence that was Orihara Izaya passed him by with nary a care in the world, the man's expression looking as smug and as cheerful as ever. Muscles tensing, he growled and convulsively flexed his hands in a desire to viciously crush the loathsome insect. After all, it was Izaya's fault that he'd disappointed Kasuka once again. "Kill, kill, kill," he muttered while the people around him quickly made themselves scarce.

Today you die! Today I'll fucking kill you no matter what!
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Blind Fury