Work Text:
It's another easy summer day, another day that started with the promise of rain but gave up to the sweltering sunshine. The humidity curls the tips of his hair and has him stripping off his black gakuran jacket for some relief. Next to him, Shinra is humming, dressed in Raijin blue with his blazer unfastened and his sleeves rolled up.
"Hey, Orihara-kun," he says absently against the noises of the cicadas in the trees. "Do you want to do karaoke at some point?"
"Karaoke?" Izaya raises his eyebrows and glances sideways. "Really?"
"Mm, no, not really," Shinra replies. "But it was either that or shopping. Both seem like the kinds of things friends should do with each other, right?"
Izaya shrugs. "Normal friends, maybe. Since when do you care what normal people should do with each other?"
"Oh, I don't," Shinra reassures him. "It's just, Celty's been on at me lately, saying I don't have any friends or I don't do anything outside of school. So I thought maybe we should do something that friends normally do."
Izaya chooses not to mention that the most meaningful point in their friendship so far was when Shinra took a knife wound for him and Izaya vowed to make the culprit suffer for the rest of his miserable life. "So you thought you would ask me? Why not that monster you call a friend?"
Shinra laughs. "I'm not going to ask Shizuo-kun to sing karaoke with me. I do value my life."
"I'm flattered that you think I won't kill you on the spot," says Izaya warily.
"It's because you're too soft around me," says Shinra, matter-of-fact. "Don't blush – it's just the truth! You don't have to be embarrassed!"
Izaya glances away, brushing a hand across his cheeks and finding them even hotter than the rest of his skin under the sun. "Shut up. You saying that makes it more embarrassing."
"So it's true then," says Shinra gleefully.
"Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?"
"You tell me that every day, Orihara-kun—!" Shinra casually slings an arm around Izaya's shoulders. Izaya flinches at the careless touch but when Shinra makes no move to remove his arm he relaxes into the embrace. "But really, I like it that you're soft around me and nobody else! It's nice."
"You're horrible," Izaya complains, shrugging away from him. "Seriously, why would I want to do anything normal with you? I'd tell you to ask your headless roommate to sing karaoke with you instead but she probably hates you and couldn't sing even if she wanted to."
"You're just like a cat," remarks Shinra, letting Izaya's words roll off him easily. He beams. "You don't have to do anything with me if you don't want to. But isn't it your mother's birthday soon? Don't you want to get her something nice?"
Izaya crosses his arms, his jacket folded between them and his chest. How does Shinra even know that? Mentioning his family life is not something that Izaya makes a habit of. "Why would I need you to come with me to do that?"
"Because you have terrible taste," Shinra informs him. "I've been buying presents for Celty every year so I know what women like—"
"That does nothing to reassure me."
"—So I'm offering my advice to you for free!" He smiles like it's the most selfless thing he's ever said. Upon careful reflection, Izaya thinks it might be.
He sighs, regretting his decision to show up to school in the first place today. If only he'd skipped his last class then he could have avoided all of this. He opens his mouth to refuse and speed off home without another look back.
"Okay, fine," is what his mouth decides to say instead.
Shinra claps his hands together, eyes shining. "Really? Let's go!"
The next two hours are spent wandering from store to store around town, with Izaya eventually deciding the entire search as pointless when he can't find anything he wants to buy. Before he can suggest splitting up and going home for the day, Shinra grabs him by the hand and drags him into an arcade after spotting an enormous pink stuffed bunny that he resolves to win for Celty.
Izaya is not one for playing arcade games, so he settles for watching Shinra bent over the controls of the crane machine. The arcade is loud, some pop song blasting through the speakers on the ceiling, and the harsh fluorescent lights sting Izaya's eyes a little.
He leans over a little, watching Shinra fiddle around. His eyes are narrowed, his mouth set in concentration. The pink glow from the machine makes him look almost otherworldly and for a second Izaya is reminded of Celty and the fluid way she carries herself. He wonders then what it would be like to kiss Shinra, to cup his hands around his face and be able to touch him without feeling a jot of panic. Even now, with their shoulders not quite brushing against each other, he still feels a little too hot, a little too uncertain.
If he were so bold, would Shinra kiss him back?
Without warning, Izaya's phone rings loudly in his pocket, snapping him out of that line of thought. He pulls it out and skims over the text message before looking back up at Shinra. "I have to go."
"Family matters?" Shinra asks lightly. The stuffed bunny slips from the grip of the crane and flops back down onto the rest of them.
Shinra isn't looking at him, but Izaya glances away anyway. "It's the Awakusu-kai. You don't mind if I—?"
He turns to face Izaya, all pretense of trying to win the bunny forgotten. His smile is as bright as always. "You always do as you please anyway, right? And if the yakuza say you have to go then you have to go, that's what my father used to say." He catches Izaya's eye, finally. Still smiling, he says, "So go."
Izaya narrows his eyes, knowing a challenge when he sees one. "Then I'll see you at school."
Shinra hums in agreement as Izaya turns to leave. "If you show up, that is."
As he turns his back, he swears that was bitterness pasted across Shinra's face, plain as day. In a rare moment of doubt, he looks back but Shinra has already returned his attention to the crane machine. Did he imagine it? Or could Shinra really have made such an honest expression of his emotions towards somebody other than Celty—towards him?
Regardless of whether it was real or not, he never sees Shinra wear an expression like that again.
.
"Hey, Orihara-kun," Shinra says to him offhandedly as they make their way home from the university library one day in January. The cuffs of their jackets brush together occasionally as they walk, sending shocks from the proximity through Izaya every time. "Do you think a person can be in love with two people at once?"
"How would I know?" he asks. "I only love humans, not individuals."
"Yeah, yeah." Shinra waves a hand. "But do you think it's possible? From your observations, that is."
Izaya frowns. "I think it's possible. Undesirable, but possible."
"Undesirable?"
"Being in love with any person is undesirable," says Izaya bluntly. "Let alone two."
"That's lonely," Shinra remarks. "So you've never been in love? Not even with one of those girls that you always hang around with? The one with the red hair?"
Izaya shrugs. "Does it matter if I've been in love? It would never work anyway and I don't have time for that kind of thing."
"That sounds a lot like you've been in love before," says Shinra. "So it was the red-haired girl, Mi…something?"
"Mikage," Izaya corrects absently before catching himself and scowling. "And I was never in love with her. She was interesting as a human because I couldn't manipulate her like the others. Love is too boring for me to concern myself with it personally."
"You're a terrible person," Shinra chides him.
"And you already knew that," says Izaya. "Have you ever been in love?"
"I'm in love with Celty," says Shinra plainly. "You already know that."
"I meant other than her."
Shinra smirks. "Yes, I have."
Heiwajima Shizuo, is Izaya's immediate thought and he's instantly sickened by it. To think of Shinra and that monster even in the same room as each other – coupled with Shinra's endless awe and stream of praise towards him – bitterness twists unpleasantly in his stomach and he suddenly feels like throwing up.
"Good for you," he says curtly and speeds up.
Shinra matches pace with him again. "Aren't you even a little bit curious as to who it is?"
"No," says Izaya, his eyes on the road ahead. "And talking about it is childish. Your private affairs are your own."
"Okay," agrees Shinra easily but continues regardless. "Hey, Orihara-kun, if you had to choose between two people how would you know which one to pick?"
"Whichever option would provide me with the most interest."
"What if they're both equally interesting?"
"Then I'd weigh up the other pros and cons and come to a decision that way." He continues walking and refuses to meet Shinra's gaze.
"You're too logical!" Shinra laughs at him, long and clear. "People and hearts aren't science experiments. It doesn't work like that."
Izaya narrows his eyes. "They are to me."
Shinra tilts his head. "Let me put it this way. What if one option was what your heart desired most but you knew that there was a high chance it would never work out, and the other was still interesting but much safer?"
They've come to a complete halt now. Izaya crosses his arms. "Are you asking my advice, Shinra? I have no interest whatsoever in your love life and I don't think you would ever ask my permission or opinion without ulterior motive."
"Maybe I want you to indulge my selfishness," says Shinra, his smile sheepish for once.
Izaya lets out a sigh, half-annoyed at himself for folding so easily. "Fine. Are either of your 'options' likely to return your feelings?" Privately, he cannot imagine Heiwajima Shizuo being anything close to romantically interested in anyone, let alone Shinra.
Shinra hums and looks up at the grey sky. "The latter is more likely to than the former."
Izaya raises his eyebrows. The former can't be anyone but Celty. The latter… Shizu-chan and Shinra? Really? "But the first is the person you desire most?"
"That's right."
"Then pick them," says Izaya. "Humans always place their hopes on things that are unrealistic, but if they achieve that then it will bring them the most happiness because they've beaten the odds. Right? So choose the former. If you don't truly desire the second option then what's the point? Surely you'll just be making the two of you miserable in the process."
He turns his head away, oblivious to the sad, odd little smile that Shinra gives him.
"Okay, Orihara-kun. The former it is."
.
It's late at night when Shinra makes his way over to Izaya's apartment in Shinjuku. As he exits the station and maneuvers his way through the throngs of people mingling by the entrance, his eyes are drawn to the buildings towering above him. By instinct alone he seeks out the one that Izaya lives in, rising up next to the station's exit. Smoke from a group of salarymen's cigarettes clouds his view of it but he can make out the glow of light from Izaya's living room. He's home, then, rather than being out lurking the streets of Ikebukuro or conducting meetings with Awakusu-kai representatives.
Shinra lets out a sigh and tightens his grip around his briefcase. It would be all too easy to back out now, to kick around the city for a couple of hours then head back and brush off Celty's questions. After all, it was her who had pushed him to visit. He prefers to spend as little time around Izaya as he can now, ever since his behaviour became more erratic and difficult for even Shinra to predict. By keeping himself away from Izaya he also puts distance between Izaya and Celty. Between them both - and the truth of Celty's missing head.
But Celty is right. He mistreated his oldest friend, excluding Shizuo; one of the only people to see Shinra's true nature and continue to seek him out. Even Celty does not know – can't be allowed to know – just what monstrosity Shinra holds within himself. Shizuo knows and stays clear unless convenient for him. Izaya knows and longs for it.
If he were to allow it, if he never met Celty, Shinra knows he would let Izaya drown in it.
He knows Izaya would come to him willingly.
But as it stands, in order to be with Celty he needs to keep Izaya at an arm's length.
Shinra flexes his grip on his briefcase and walks into Izaya's apartment building. He takes the lift up to the highest floor but when he steps out he's overcome by another urge to run. With a shaking breath he steels himself and raps his knuckles on Izaya's door.
There's a delay long enough that Shinra assumes Izaya just isn't going to answer, but then the lock clicks and the door swings open. Izaya stands there, dressed as always in black with a hand pressed over his side. His complexion is pale, unhealthily so, and for the first time in the history of their friendship Shinra feels a spark of concern for him.
"I should turn you away." Izaya's eyes are lowered, half-cut into dark shadow by the soft glow of light in the hallway.
"Then why don't you?" Shinra keeps his voice even. It's not an accusation. Izaya is a person that says a lot of things and rarely means them, even rarer does he actually follow through on the things he says. For once, Shinra would like to hear it put into words.
"You know why," says Izaya heavily. He looks older than twenty four, then, as he matches Shinra's gaze. The shadows under his eyes stand out darker than they ever did in high school.
He knows why. But if Izaya were to ever say it aloud the whole game would be changed. If Izaya were to ever acknowledge it in anything more than cryptic guessing games Shinra doesn't know what he would do, what he would feel.
"I suppose I do," he murmurs, looking away. "Should I stay?"
Izaya's breath hitches. Shinra glances back up, says, "At least let me see it."
"Five minutes," he concedes and steps aside to let Shinra pass into his apartment. The interior looks the same as it always has done: sterile, lifeless, monochromatic. Too much space for just one person and his secretary. The most personal touch is the emerald green umbrella lying by the front door.
He lets Izaya push him over to the couch. Despite the emptiness of his home, Shinra can see why he stays here as he gazes out the window opposite. Shinjuku at night, neon electric and smoky, the sprawl of the station beneath him. It's everything Izaya has always desired.
Izaya sits next to him and Shinra is suddenly hyper aware that this is the closest they've been together since high school. He's close enough to touch, to break. Gingerly, Izaya tugs up the hem of his shirt and, securing it with one elbow, slowly unravels the bandages wrapping his side with his other hand. The wound is still painful looking, fiery red around the edges but with no visible sign of infection. The knife had gone in and come out cleanly. Nothing vital pierced. The work of somebody who knew what they were doing.
Unconsciously, Shinra's fingers hover just over the wound, never touching it.
"We match now," he says, a quiet laugh in his voice.
Izaya's lips curve up into a wry smile. "You could say that."
What he doesn't point out is that their scars are on opposite sides. Mirror images. If he raised his hand and pressed it to the space between them, would Izaya mimic it? Would Izaya reflect back every shred of repressed emotion Shinra has ever felt?
His fingertips are millimetres from Izaya's skin. The static holds him there a moment longer, trembling. Then he pulls back his hand and makes a fist on his lap. There was a time when he would have touched Izaya so thoughtlessly, like it was second nature. Now, even a hair's breadth feels like a mile.
"Did you see who did it?" he asks carefully.
"No."
"Do you know who it was?"
"Yes."
"Are you going to tell me who it was?"
Izaya eyes him for a long moment. "No." He lets his shirt drop back down and reaches to the coffee table for a fresh roll of bandages. "Satisfied? Doctors in public hospitals can actually do their jobs, you know—" His words break off into a hiss as he stretches too far.
"Give it to me." Shinra pulls it out of his hands and starts preparing it for him. "Now stand up."
A grin breaks out across Izaya's face as he does as Shinra says. "What happened to 'I hope your chest splits open and you die', hmm?"
"I would have been more sympathetic if you hadn't interrupted my date with Celty," he reprimands.
"Could this be guilt?" teases Izaya, eyes bright in the darkness of the room.
"I have no knowledge of that emotion." His voice is light as he lies, his hands steady as he binds the injury. How many times has he done this in his life – patched Izaya up while exchanging mocking words, thinly veiled jabs at the other's weaknesses? Has Izaya ever let anybody else know him the way Shinra does? Yagiri Namie, maybe, but he can't feel jealous over her – he has enough self awareness to know that both himself and Yagiri are cut from the same cloth.
Has anyone ever defended him the way Shinra has, influenced him the way Shinra has? Generosity is not something that comes easy to him. He wants to be selfish about Izaya just a little longer.
"Done," he says, and withdraws his hands. "You should start watching out for yourself more. Next time it might be worse."
When he looks up, Izaya's expression is inscrutable.
"Even now, you still say things that surprise me," he replies after a beat, self-deprecation evident in the arch of his brows.
Shinra stands up so that they're eye to eye again. "I've been somewhat sentimental lately." He shrugs. "Celty's effect."
An amused smile plays around the corners of Izaya's mouth. "So monsters can become more human. How interesting."
"Celty isn't a monster."
Izaya grins, eyes narrowing as he turns away from Shinra and walks to the window. "I wasn't talking about Celty."
A monster? Izaya has always thrown that word around too lightly for someone that behaves the way he does. If they are mirror images of the other then Izaya must be a monster too. But Shinra has never considered Izaya as anything other than painfully, woefully, hopelessly human: he manipulates, he lies to cover his own emotions, he longs to be more than what he is.
These are not the traits of a god, of a monster.
If Izaya asked him to stay Shinra would not be able to find the strength within himself to refuse. But Izaya would never ask, so Shinra knows he will always leave.
.
Izaya disappears from Ikebukuro, leaving nothing but a spattering of blood on a neatly paved road, an empty apartment, and a haunted look in Shizuo's eyes that may never fade.
Shinra is reminded of him everywhere he goes. Ryuugamine Mikado approaches him a couple of times asking about Izaya. Kida Masaomi steps out of his way when he sees him coming, knowing Shinra only by his association to Izaya. Even people like Akabayashi and Shiki have questions that he doesn't know how to answer.
But Ikebukuro doesn't feel the same these days. For as long as he can remember, Ikebukuro has always been Izaya: the glint of his eyes in the dark, the honest curve of his mouth when he smiles out of genuine happiness, the curl of the ends of his hair in the summer heat.
Autumn comes and leaves, and before he knows it winter is over too. March brings spring with it, warmth finally returning to the air and the flowering of the trees lining the streets.
Then Shinra leaves, too.
.
Enoshima is unexpectedly cool this April. The cherry blossoms were late this year, reaching full bloom only days before and now the petals spiral gently down from their branches, one after another. The sea front is bustling with people as Shinra exits the station, the sun pale in the sky. The buildings are low, the sea air fresh. It's the exact opposite of his image of Izaya.
He moves slowly down the street towards the pier through the throngs of tourists and locals alike, his eyes searching. He has absolute confidence that he'll find him. There has never been a time that he couldn't.
I want to see—
The second Shinra sees him, he knows that he made the right decision in coming.
—again, I want to—
Izaya sits in his wheelchair, legs crossed and his sharp eyes scanning the crowd. Lately, Shinra has swapped out his usual lab coat for a darker, more fitted jacket, leaving him less conspicuous in a crowd, but he knows it'll take more than that for Izaya's eyes not to be instantly drawn to him.
The sea breeze tugs through his hair. He flexes his fingers, overcome by the urge to touch Izaya, to make sure he's real.
Taking a slow, controlled breath in, he steps forward and starts to close the space between them.
Ah, so this is—
Across the pier, Izaya's face softens into a smile.