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Let's Pretend	By : DarkFae Category: > Durarara!! (?????!! Dyurarara!!) Views: 3508 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Don't own Durarara!! or any characters/ place to do with it. Dont make profits, only warm fuzzy feelings.

Chapter List
- 1-Let's Pretend
- 2-Psyche
- 3-Awake
- 4-Fantasy
- 5-Reality
- 6-Introspection
- 7-Rumination
- 8-Check
- 9-Deja Vu
- 10-Truth
- 11-Checkmate
- 12-Epilogue
- 9
- 10
- 11
Let's Pretend [[Psychedelic Dreams]]

Chapter Ten

Truth

Parkuor was more than a simple style Izaya punctuated his fighting skills with. It was a state of mind. Quite literally actually, as the maneuvers were not meant to be competitive in the slightest. It was more frequently dubbed “freerunning” and the entire point of it was to transcend obstacles in creative and ingenious manners. The physical aspect of the graceful leaps and jumps were a simple expression of a higher purpose: to overcome anything in life; to better oneself from day to day.

Ikebukuro was the perfect urban setting to test his skills as the Traceur leaped and vaulted over buildings, cars and railings with ease, just to stay in practice. There was a reason he was here this evening however. The pushing of his bodily limits was just for fun. Seiji's last GPS signal from his most recent text to Namie pinpointed him somewhere between his apartment complex and Sunshine 60, heading towards his home. Mika would no doubt be with him, as she always was. It was child's play to intercept them.

“A stalker and her pet, that's simply adorable,” Izaya chuckled from an alleyway as they passed. They stopped, wondering who was addressing them, then Seiji spotted him and tilted his head in suspicious curiosity.

“Who are you?” he asked solemnly.

Izaya emerged from the shadows and put his hands behind his head with a smile. “My name is Orihara Izaya. You would be Yagiri Seiji-kun and Harima Mika-chan, yes?”

Mika pulled a little closer to Seiji, unnerved. “C-can we help you?” she stammered nervously.

“Yes. Yes you can.” Izaya began to move towards Seiji's apartment, freerunning up the railing steps with ease. “We should discuss this over tea, yeah?”

Seiji frowned. “Don't interrupt us, we're busy.”

“Ah, sixteen. You're at that age. Fun, isn't it?” Izaya called down, stopping at Seiji's door as they made their way up the steps.

“It's none of your business, and I’m seventeen you ass,” Seiji snapped. “Hey, the hell are you doing?!”

Izaya easily jimmied the lock with his flickblade and just let himself in. Too easy – the lock had been tampered with before, no doubt by Mika before her surgeries.

“No tea? Ah well, coffee will do I guess...” he sighed, starting a pot. Seiji burst in, angry as a wasp and ready to kick him out. “Relax. This is business.”

“What business could a freak like you have with me?!” he demanded as Mika poked her head in.

“Seiji-san...” she called timidly.

“Not just you, her too,” Izaya told him, searching for his mugs in the cupboards. “Where are your coffee mugs?”

Seiji sort of huffed, knowing he wasn't going to be rid the freak so easily and conceded to fetch three mugs from the cupboard above the sink with a scowl. “Look, I don't know who you think you are, but I don't have anything to do with any crazy stunts you pull. So why don't you just leave?”

“I know more about you than you think.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Yagiri Seiji, Yagiri Namie's little brother, in love with the head of a Dullahan,” Izaya began, pouring the brew casually into the cups as the color drained from Seiji's face. “He was fooled into thinking that after he committed a supposed murder against his stalker Harima Mika that the head had been attached to his victim's body. Even though that illusion is long dispelled, you two are still quite the couple.” Izaya delighted in the expression on both of their faces as he handed them their coffee. “Shall I continue?”

Seiji sat on his couch and gave Izaya a confused, reproachful look. “What do you want?” he asked quietly, knowing damn well that the man could turn his life upsidown in an instant if he so desired.

“Just some information that would be trivial to you, it shouldn't be too hard to cooperate,” Izaya told them cheerfully. “Have either of you .. or more specifically both of you … had any strange dreams lately?”

“Dreams?” Mika repeated, confused.

“Let me elaborate. Dreams about each other, but in different bodies, saying things you'd never say, doing things you'd never do and sometimes even leaking into the waking world?”

They both looked at him like he was crazy. “No,” Seiji told him dubiously.

“Nothing like that,” Mika agreed, sipping her coffee meekly. Then she smiled. “But it sounds romantic, doesn't it Seiji-san?”

“Sure,” he agreed absently, not taking his eyes off of Izaya.

Damn.

“Welp! That takes you off the list then,” Izaya told them with an exasperated smile. “Get better coffee for the record, will you? This brand sucks.” He put his hands behind him on the back of the couch and pulled his body into a roll off of the back of it, landing on his feet deftly. “Catch you later!” For the hell of it he jumped out the window, catching the lip and scaling back down with ease.

Damn-damn-damn! Another dead end. It seemed Psyche and Tsugaru were the only spirits about riding anyone. Maybe he needed to hire a Voudon exorcist or something to be rid of them, though which brand of theology they might subscribe to mattered little. But then...

Izaya started to wonder if he really wanted to to be rid of Psyche. Bringing Shizu-chan and himself together like that had been a thrilling twist of fate, and though he hated to admit it, the brute had been a marvelous change of pace. What exactly would become of their hateful dynamic? He had been in Ikebukuro for at least two hours at this point, and not a single vending machine had been aimed for his head yet.

Shizuo must have been just as confused as he was.

And then there was this strange sort of vertigo in his stomach whenever he thought back to the actual encounter they shared. He thought he'd pegged it as pure lusting after the man , but now he was even more concerned with the fact that he missed the bed, the scent, the tangible strength lying next to him and that he couldn't stop thinking about it. The images rattled around in his brain relentlessly. Not to mention he just couldn't get off the way he wanted to without him. Izaya was not a fool – denying any truth was simply a set up for disaster at some point.

He was falling for Shizu-chan.

Not good.

Well! He would just have to apply Parkuor to this, as he did with all things. He would transcend this creatively and ingeniously. He was above such trivial matters – above humanity. He loved humans, but he considered himself above them.

Or beneath them. Depending on which direction that bipolar pendulum swung.

Izaya approached the bus stop to Shinjuku and stopped short to see who was at the bench already, pacing back and forth in an agitated manner. Karisawa Erika was begging him not to get on the bus and he was ignoring her, lighting what must have been the tenth cigarette given the butts about him on the sidewalk. He must have missed the last run and been waiting almost the full hour for the next.

Izaya had to make a decision and quickly, because Shizu-chan was just too stupid to make it on the spot. Taunt him into a fight as he always did, pretending nothing had ever happened between them in the first place. Humiliate him by exposing the affair (and making poor Karisawa soak her panties, he was sure), putting on a joke out of the whole thing – ultimately ending it. Ignore him and walk home, evading the situation completely. Or perhaps...

“Konbaowa, Shizu-chan,” Izaya greeted, taking a seat at the bench as if it were perfectly normal for them to converse in a civil manner.

Do the unexpected. Act “normal.”

Creative. Ingenious. Izaya loved himself almost as much as he loved humans. He also hated himself as much as he hated humanity's stupidity at times. Either way, a reaction was guaranteed, which he reveled in.

Shizuo stood dumbfounded, forgetting to take that drag to ignite his cancer stick and letting the ember die. He slowly placed it in his paper ashtray and sized Izaya up, trying to guess at his game. “What … what are you doing, pest?”

“Going home, isn't it obvious?” Izaya laughed.

Erika looked between them, utterly confused at first. Then her eyes glazed over, and she sort of giggled like a child. “Ooohohoho! No way!”

“Just shut up, will you?” Shizuo sighed. “You're being ridiculous.”

“Oh, don't ruin her Shonen Ai fantasies, Shizu-chan. Let her think what she wants.”

Shizuo couldn't utter a word, as if he were at a loss as to what to do too. Predictable protozoan. Finally he pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. “Erika-chan, could we have a moment?”

“So which one of you is seme and which one of you is uke?” she asked, then shut her mouth at Shizuo's glare. “Of course, Shizu-chan!” she gushed, running off, no doubt to vent her fantasies to her boytoy Walker.

“I'm waiting,” Izaya told him.

“For what, the bus?”

“No, for you to throw this bench with me on it across the street.”

Shizuo didn't. He was at an utter loss, Izaya could tell. He wasn't much better himself, but at least he could play it off like it was no big deal. “You want me to or something?”

“It would certainly be the 'norm,' wouldn't it?” Izaya chuckled.

“What's happening isn't normal and you know it.”

“Strait to the point I see...”

“First off... WHY would you publish this on a BLOG?!” Shizuo clenched his fists, showing restraint in order to gain information first. Then … a pummeling. Or … something. Shit, he didn't even know anymore.

“Come on, use your head,” Izaya told him, glancing at the time across the street at a bank. 10:53pm. “Not too many people know who Kanra is, do they?”

“You … you're unbelievable!”

Izaya laughed again. “You're totally untalkable to. Just say it feels like I violated your … our privacy. Though I don't recall this ever being a secret...”

“You're not ashamed?!” Shizuo demanded.

“Ashamed?! I’m ecstatic!” Izaya lied, swallowing the lump in his throat so the words wouldn't fall flat. He was ashamed. Ashamed that he wanted more. “What kind of image do you think that projects?” Shizuo stared. “Well, I guess it doesn't matter what you think. Whatever it is this does, I like it.”

Shizuo continued to stare with an unreadable look. “You're playing a head game with me,” he concluded.

“Oh?”

“You either DON'T like the image that paints in people's heads and are lying to me in order to provoke me into shattering it. Or you ...” he hesitated. “You actually ...”

“What kind of guy do you think I am?” Izaya laughed. It sounded stiff, and he hoped Shizuo was dumb enough not to notice.

“You really wanna know?” Shizuo asked with a malicious grin, cracking his knuckles.

Izaya had an eager face on. “I quiver in anticipation.”

He was fully expecting the beast to charge him to make his point, but Shizuo simply took the half lit reburn cigarette out of his little envelope ashtray, lit it and looked Izaya coldly in the eye. It was utterly captivating. “Here's what kind of guy I think you are: a coward. Not because you're scared of anything on this earth, God forbid. No, you're a coward because you can't face anything within yourself head on. You pawn off any heart you might have on these 'humans' you love so much and the tricks you play on them. You never say what you're really thinking, you put on this smirk and play at it, picking it like a scab until it's bleeding your sick fucking tune. You can't even take what happened between us seriously, or how it makes you feel, be it hatred or … or whatever. You want the definition of a coward? IT'S YOU.”

Izaya stared, dumbstruck at the man, still holding his gaze prisoner in amber orbs of intensity. Izaya was a remarkably hard man to read, or so he'd been told many times. How did Shizuo peg him so thoroughly; so accurately?! He opened his mouth to quip back that he was full of shit when Shizuo held up his hand, took a drag and removed the cigarette from his lips. Those smooth, supple lips...

“Hold on a minute, I’m not done, and I’m not stupid. I won't deny that I’m not really good at looking inside myself either. Nobody is. But you … you take it on a whole new level. Just how many identities and faces do you have? Are any of them the real you? You're a chick named Kanra who blogs smutty fanfiction and trolls chatrooms. Who knows how many other online identities you have!? You're this person to the Yakuza, you're that person to Celty and Shinra. You're a complete jack-off to me, and a royal dick to that secretary of yours. Where's Izaya? And just who was it that came to my house that night?”

Izaya was still chained painfully to Shizuo's gaze, which was angry and hurt and confused all at once. Izaya had a desperate fear that it was reflected, or worse, Shizuo really could see what was behind his own shocked expression, mouth agape slightly and eyes wide. He opened and shut his mouth a few times, angry at himself for letting Big-Dumb-and-Hansom win – at a duel of wits at that!

Izaya stood up and briskly walked away, trying to gather a reply – gather himself – before making his next move. Why didn't it just come like it always does? The quick and snappy retort that was supposed to come next was a close to instinct thing for him, how had Shizuo caused his vocabulary to run dry and dull his wit to a humiliating stupor?

“Get back here, you can't just run away from this like you do everything else!” Shizuo roared, storming after him.

Izaya stopped in an alleyway, smirk gone. “It's not running, Shizu-chan, it's evading karma.”

“Whatever you call it, it's stupid and immature. Turn around and face me! Face it!”

“No.”

Shizuo paused behind him, confused. “What?”

“I said NO,” Izaya repeated firmly though there was a slight quiver in his voice, clenching his fists and for the first time in a long time, losing his cool. “I will not be controlled. I control everything, not the other way around! I refuse to believe I am being forced into something I don't want to happen. I’ve been wondering if I was so opposed to it if this happened in the first place. I can ride on something I enjoy, even if it's out of my hands, but to have no brakes is …” Izaya shuddered as Shizuo put a firm grip on his shoulder in a way that was impossible to tell if he was going to drag him around or throw him.

“It's unsettling,” he continued quietly, not moving. “I'm above humans. Or below them. Think what you want, but they are in a class that I am not a part of. I envy them sometimes, other times I loathe their very presence, so I love them for making me feel something … anything. Therefor, I am beyond the fingers of karma. I am ahead of anything that could circle back to me. So why this? Why would these entities shove us together like this, and make us like it so goddamned much?”

“I never said I liked this,” Shizuo said gruffly, still guarded.

“If I’m being honest, I expect the same,” Izaya snapped, trying to shrug his hand off. It stayed. “You were the best sex I’ve had since … well, ever. Man or woman. I won't deny I want it to happen again. And again. And I want you to want it too. There's no other way to put it, Shizu-chan, I can't dance around something I can't control. There. I said it. I can't control this and it scares the living piss out of me. Is that cowardly enough for you?”

“Izaya...”

“Don't touch me,” he ordered harshly, trying to roll his shoulder away again. Shizuo kept his hold.

“Was it really a fluke?” Shizuo asked softly, a tone in his voice Izaya was not familiar with. Considering that it was usually anger or … well, just anger directed at him, he wasn't sure why this gentleness surprised him. It wasn't like the idiot couldn't feel any other emotion. “It's crazy, but I do want it to happen again. And keep happening. I thought I hated you … and I kind of still do. But this changes a lot, you know? You blew my mind, I’m not kidding. I’ve never had a lay like that … with a guy anyway, and not in a million years would I … you know, do something like that with any man but you. Fuck I can't stand you, why am I doing this??”

“I don't love you.”

“I don't love you either.”

“But I don't hate you either. I was pretty sure it was hate but I was wrong,” Izaya mused. “I certainly don't love you by any stretch of the imagination. I something you though, and I have from the start. I love provoking you. I love making you feel and react, I love how unpleasant you are. You don't act human, and because you are an anomaly, you are interesting. A real shit-smear, but closer to a class of existence that reflects mine. We were destined to have something between us... it just turned out to be animosity for the better part of a decade.”

“That's why Tsugaru and Psyche chose us I think,” Shizuo told him. “You over-thought this, Izaya. No one is behind this but them. Kind of like... moths to flames or something.”

“You are terrible at monologues,” Izaya said blankly, still trying to process and refusing to face him. He relaxed his fists and the flickblade was slid into his palm in an instant. “God, why do I want to kill you and fuck you at the same time?”

“For the record, necrophilia is a felony,” Shizuo told him dryly, not noticing the weapon.

“I don't want to stop trying to kill you.”

“Same.”

“I don't want you to die though. If you die, I can't savor you.”

“... same.”

The smirk found itself back onto Izaya's face and he whipped around, flickblade flashing and tearing a new rip in Shizuo's bartender vest as he jumped backwards reflexively just in time. “What do you say, Shizu-chan? One more go, just for fun?”

“The hell? I thought we were just talking!”

“Things are going to be different from here on out and you know it,” Izaya told him, a sort of crazed revelation flashing in his dark eyes. “We have a choice. Continue as if nothing has occurred and never get off again, or begin anew. What that entails is unknown to the both of us, but we'll worry about that when it comes. Right now I want to go all out. To the death, Heiwajima Shizuo! May the victor take Ikebukuro. If we somehow both survive, we kiss and make up. Deal?”

Shizuo smiled and ripped a fire escape ladder clear off the side of the building with one hand after taking another drag and flicking the butt.

“Deal.”
- 9
- 10
- 11
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Let's Pretend