Seven Ghosts | By : DarkFae Category: > Durarara!! (?????!! Dyurarara!!) Views: 31276 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: don't own durarara, don't make the moneys, characters belong to the original author. sucks, ne~? |
A/N: This one is very fluffy, and slightly OOC, much to my dismay. But it seems to be popular and I wanted to give it a shot. Didn't turn out too bad, but you guys can be the judge of that. I liked what I started, so I ran with it. Inspired by the story “Chronic” by a lovely Informant. You may recognize the first chapter from the Deviantart meme I posted a while back. Rated T for now, but will rise to M at later chapters. R/R, I love your feedback! :)
Seven Ghosts
Part One
Chapter One
Underneath it All
{[Heiwajima Shizuo]}
Its unnerving. Scary even. I’ve never seen Izaya like this, and it just hasn't computed until now how much danger he actually is of giving up completely. He stands there with his flickblade pointed at me despite the weakness he'd just shown me, an expression on his face that screams that he just wants to die already, and he's throwing caution to the wind threatening me like this, even though we're standing in his bedroom.
Let me back up.
I was not expecting to actually hit the bastard.
It was a typical encounter, vending machines and road signs airborne and aimed at Izaya’s lithe figure. But today, one try and the garbage can knocked him right across the street and into an alleyway. A little taken aback, I approached my nemesis, bewildered at the limp lump of person weakly sitting up and leaning against the wall and hanging his head.
“What the fuck, pest? That was too easy.”
“Ah, go on, Shizu-chan. Kill me.”
“ExCUSE me?”
“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Izaya asked with a weak smile. Where… where was he bleeding from? Not where I hit him … “To end me?”
“You’re acting weird, what’s with you?” I demanded, suspicion clouding my common sense. Something was wrong...
“I’m such a liar. I have a throne where I lie from, you know that? My desk is my empire, where I foresee all the hurt in Tokyo.”
“What’s new? I already knew you get your sick kicks from fucking with other people.”
Izaya looked at his hand and smiled at the bloodstained fur on the cuff of his parka. “Never fucked with myself before.”
“Is this some kind of trick?”
“No. No trick,” he said softly. He stood and stumbled into my arms, and I was too shocked to do anything but catch him awkwardly. Izaya breathed into my chest and kind of smiled again. I could feel his heart fluttering against mine. It was a strange sensation. “I’m going to let you down today, Shizuo. Would it hurt you to watch me die by my own hands?”
“What?” I demanded. This had to be some kind of sick joke of his...
“I knew it. You have this complex where you think you’re the only one allowed to kill me. I want to deny you that pleasure. I want to make you hurt…”
“What!? You idiot, that’s the most ridiculous thing you could ever -- !!”
“Oh, there are lots of other reasons, don’t get your panties in a bunch thinking this was all for you.” Izaya’s legs got weak and now he was completely leaning his weight against me. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Hey, if we could do things differently… how would this have ended?”
“What are you…?” I suddenly realized that blood was dripping down Izaya’s hands, and it was getting all over my black vest. “The FUCK --?!”
“Ever had a deathwish, Shizu-chan?” Izaya asked hoarsely, still wearing a delirious smile.
“Did you just slash your wrists?! What the fuck--!”
Izaya forced out a laugh as I ripped his coat off and found the accusation true. The cuts were deep and soaking his skin and coat with blood – I hadn’t noticed until it had reached the fur of the parka because the cloth had been black. “I’m a million miles away…” he murmured dazedly as I shook him.
“WHY, IDIOT?” I shouted, suddenly very concerned for his well being all of the sudden. Despite all the times I had aimed to kill, desiring to bash his head into a bloody pulp... for some reason I couldn't picture it ending like this. Not like this...
“Lots of reasons… but let’s just say for now, in this moment… I wanted to fuck with you.” Izaya pulled me close. He was cold and clammy, hands sticky from congealed blood. “It’s fun.”
I pulled my cell phone out for help as the thorn in my side lost consciousness.
It was surreal almost. I had never thought in a million years that I would be the one to rush that goddamned pest to the hospital. The EMTs were shocked, and so were the nurses. They wouldn't let me in the room alone with him, as if I were some kind of monster who would end him while barely conscious in a hospital bed.
After hours of stabilization , the social worker pulled me aside as Izaya slipped off into a drug induced slumber. I could have left at any point... but I didn't. I don’t know why, I just couldn’t leave him like this. She was clearly new to Ikebukuro, as I don't think she quite grasped that I wished Izaya dead with all of my heart.
But not like this...
“So are you any relation to Orihara-san?” she asked, taking notes on her clipboard.
“Cousin,” I lied. As far as I knew, the pest had no family to speak of besides those annoying sisters of his. Who knew how much contact he had with them anymore? I seemed to deal with those twin abominations more than he did. And … I needed to know just what the hell was going on.
“Do you know him well?”
“Well I …” Hm. Good question. Despite my hatred for him … I couldn't say I really knew Izaya. I knew he was twisted and manipulative and had dirty dealings.... “Sort of?” I finally replied awkwardly.
“He passed our questionnaire for mental illness with flying colors, and considering this is clearly a suicide attempt, it raises a few red flags,” she continued.
“He's too smart for his own good,” I muttered, pulling a cigarette out without thinking.
“You can't smoke in here.”
I paused and put it back. “My bad. No, he'll tell you exactly what you want to hear, I’ll tell you that much.”
A nurse handed her Izaya's chart and she raised her eyebrows. “Ah. Well he's been declining treatment or counseling for the past month, so frankly I’m not surprised.”
“Treatment?” I asked, a little confused. Treatment for what?
“Orihara-san has no next of kin listed, would you like to sign for him since he is not in the correct state of mind to make decisions for himself?”
I stared at her, a feeling of dread overcoming me. If I were in his position, I would abhor and even fear the thought of Izaya having control over any medical decisions of mine should I have been unconscious for any reason. It did give me a sick little twist of pleasure thinking that I would have that kind of power over him, but I’m not a monster. Full of that uncensored rage sometimes, but not heartless.
And if I didn't sign it, just who would? Mairu? Kururi? Fourteen year olds, really?
I signed the papers and gave her a stern look. “So what's wrong with him? Besides the fact that he's batshit?”
“Orihara-san was diagnosed with brain cancer six weeks ago,” the worker told me emotionlessly.
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