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By the time he slips unnoticed into the biology room, school has finished and the winter sun has already begun to set, sending long shadows dancing across the room. He moves as quietly as he can, pushing the ajar door open and weaving his way around the desks.
Shinra stands at the back of the room, messing with two bottles of some chemical. He hums slightly as he pours what's in the larger one into the smaller, which he then seals and sets to the side. He does the same with another two bottles.
Izaya stands in the middle of the room, near silent as he watches Shinra going about his business. He's seen this one too many times, Shinra stealing chemicals from the science labs because his father is always away and never leaves much when he goes. It's amusing, the thought of Shinra sneaking home with all sorts of odd bits and pieces he's pilfered from the school and doing God only knows what with them.
"So you're the criminal behind all those mysterious chemical disappearances the teachers are all talking about," says Izaya loudly, like he wasn't already aware of every single move that Shinra makes.
Shinra visibly jumps, almost spilling the bottles in his hand as he whirls around. Upon seeing that it's only Izaya, he relaxes a little. "Oh, Orihara-kun, it's you. Do you have to sneak around so much? I thought you were a teacher for a minute."
"Would you really have cared if I was?" asks Izaya, perching himself onto one of the wooden desks.
Shinra shrugs. "Not really. But I could have burned my hands off with this stuff."
"Mm, it's a shame you didn't," he replies easily. "I'd have liked to observe that."
"Maybe I should pour it over you instead. See if it can erode its way through that black heart of yours."
"That's hurtful, Shinra." Izaya's eyes shine with laughter.
Shinra returns the larger bottle to the cupboard that usually remains sealed. As he tosses the keys to him after locking it, Izaya grins languidly.
"You're becoming a regular criminal, aren't you? Your father will be so proud." He means it sincerely. There's nothing more that Shingen would love than his son turning out to be just as morally questionable as he is.
"And I'm sure your parents would be absolutely mortified if they knew half of what you get up to," retorts Shinra, but the laughter in his voice negates the harshness of his words. He eyes Izaya's plain clothes. "You can show up to school once it's over but can't seem to find your way here any earlier? It's our last year, after all."
"Ah, that." Izaya waves a hand. "I had a meeting today." Shinra's fake concern over his not-infrequent absences is laughable.
"You mean you were off playing pet to the Awakusu-kai again." It's said mildly, like he's discussing nothing more than the weather.
Sometimes he finds it easy to forget that Shinra has connections to the underworld too due to his father's occupation, for all he never speaks of it. It makes him difficult to impress.
He shifts uncomfortably and spins the set of keys in his hand until they jangle. "If that's how you must put it."
Shinra shrugs and turns back to the counter. He twists each bottle cap once and turns them upside down to make sure they're sealed correctly before he puts them in his bag. He pulls his phone out of his blazer pocket and checks it.
"Celty's outside, so I have to go."
"Oh?" Izaya raises his eyebrows. "I didn't realise the Black Bike was a schoolbus now. She's becoming a master of all trades it seems."
"I wouldn't say that if I were you," says Shinra lightly as he picks up his bag and fixes Izaya with a final look. He brushes past him and still with the same flippant tone, he says, "If you like having all of your appendages attached to your body."
Izaya waits by the window until he sees Shinra mount the black motorcycle down below and loop his arms around its driver and only then does he finally allow the bitter expression he had held back to mar his face.
There are no Venus flytraps on this window sill. A different biology room, a different era. He runs his fingers along the window pane as he watches the two drive away. Is this what nostalgia feels like, this ache?
He shoves his hands in his pockets and strides out the room, letting the door swing clean open behind him. I wonder if Shizu-chan is looking for a fight today.
/
"So you're really not going to medical school then?"
Izaya swings his legs on the Kishitanis' kitchen counter as Shinra fastens up his new white coat and turns, checking its fit.
Shinra smirks. "I can make far more money if I start practicing now, especially now dad's taken a job in America. I already have a ready made client base. Soon I'll be making enough to support both Celty and I and pay for our wedding and—" He clasps his hands together.
Izaya tunes him out. High school is over, finally. He can do what he wants, finally. He has work lined up, his name is becoming well known in Ikebukuro's underworld, in a couple of months he'll have enough money to move out. So then why does he feel like something is suddenly ending and slipping out of his grasp?
The only time he'll see Shinra from now on is if he needs patched up. And Izaya is generally a careful person when it comes to his own wellbeing. He feels disgusted at the way his chest constricts.
"…Orihara-kun? Are you listening?" Shinra waves a hand in front of his face.
Izaya blinks. "Yes."
Shinra takes a step back and smiles. "No, you're not. I asked what you think about the fit." He holds his arms out and twists, letting the hem of the lab coat flare out. "Too long? Too short?"
His eyes linger over Shinra's figure. "I think it's fine how it is."
Shinra beams. "Really? That's great! I'm going to wear it all the time. To contrast with Celty, you know. Because she dresses all in black."
"Don't you think that it should be the other way around to correspond with your personalities?" Izaya asks wryly. He doesn't mention that he, too, dresses all in black.
"Probably," Shinra admits. "But then, you're hardly one to talk, are you?"
A smirk rests on his lips as he pushes himself down from the counter and prances through to the living room. "Not in the slightest. But then," he tilts his head, looking back at Shinra from where he now stands at the window, still grinning, "I'm not the one pretending to be good in front of the person I love, am I?"
He doesn't miss the frown that crosses Shinra's face.
"Pretending to be a good person in front of all of humanity would be far too much effort, don't you think?" he finds himself rushing to clarify. "After all, if I want to see all the faces humanity has to offer then pretending to be a nice person in front of them would hardly be effective."
"Right," agrees Shinra. He joins Izaya in the living room and perches on the edge of the couch. "Sometimes you have to hurt people to get what you want." He smooths the white coat over his knees.
"Exactly," says Izaya. As he turns away from the window it's hard keeping his face straight. "I have to go."
"So suddenly?" asks Shinra. He glances at his watch. "Celty will be home soon anyway. It's probably for the best. I'm sure you can let yourself out." He catches himself. "Through the door, please. Last time you left through the window the old lady downstairs nearly had a heart attack."
"That's your fault for letting monsters chase your house guests out," Izaya chides, but even thinking of the monster can't stop the way his cheeks ache.
"Yes, yes, get out." Shinra waves a hand.
As Izaya closes the front door behind him, he pauses and lets a fraction of the smile he'd been holding back creep out. He takes the stairs, grips the handrail, lets himself spin round on it at every corner.
Shinra still keeps a Venus flytrap on his window sill.
/
Izaya is twenty four when he realises that Kida Masaomi is in love with Ryuugamine Mikado. How sweet it must be to love the person you simultaneously know best and not at all. Childhood friends who each believe that the other must be protected from the darkness of the world, unaware that the underworld has both of them in its tight grasp.
It's disgusting. To love a person should be to fully know them. He who has known every inch of Shinra, the dizzying depths of the black streak that runs through him, and who has loved him regardless (or rather, because) of that is the only one who has that right.
Protection? To love a person should be to claw them open, draw out their worst and delight in it.
It has always been like this – Shinra smiles, Izaya claws. They are twelve, toying idly with a Venus flytrap, and Izaya provokes him into admitting his indifference to hurting others as long as he can be with the woman he loves. They are sixteen, on the school rooftop, and Izaya says lightly, "I bet you'll leave behind a reputation as a psychotic killer. That thrills me." They are seventeen and Shinra threatens him with shadowed eyes and a smile like ice every time he provocatively mentions Celty.
Shinra smiles, Izaya revels in it.
Yodogiri Jinnai stabs him that night. Not entirely unexpected but hardly desirable. As he collapses to his knees, trembling hands pressing uselessly at his side that is already slicked red, he wonders if Shinra will care, if Shinra and his steady hands will gently mend the wound.
He has never been a creature that clings to false hope but for Kishitani Shinra there are many things he is willing to become. Perhaps, then, it is for the best that the next morning is the last time he ever speaks to him.
He wishes to never see a Venus flytrap again. For Shinra, he is willing to become many things but sentimental is not one of them.