Chapter Text
In the aftermath, there are days when Shinra feels crueler than usual.
There are days driven by the thought of what might have happened had he not stepped in to take that knife wound, had let Izaya be stabbed instead of him. There would have been no need, then, for Izaya to fashion a monster out of his own blood and bone, to follow Nakura step-by-step to ensure that his life was a living hell. No need for Izaya to fashion a monster out of himself again and again until he finally went up against a stronger one.
He heard about how it ended from Shizuo, grunted out from around a cigarette before he glanced at Shinra with such detachment that he wondered if Shizuo was really seeing him at all. That level of guilt, of regret, well – Shinra knows nothing about emotions like that but he's spent long enough around Shizuo to know what shame looks like.
Celty understands because she always does. She's closer to Shizuo than anyone except his brother and after all, both of them are cut from the same mold: urban legends who wish desperately not to be. Neither of them are strangers to self-reproach or self-loathing.
Shinra knows nothing about that. And the truth is, he'll never be able to understand what Shizuo felt at that moment. Between Shizuo and Izaya was something beyond comprehension, something dark and violent and unspeakable that bound them together. In the end, Shinra knew this was coming, had deemed it inevitable from the very beginning, and did absolutely nothing to stop it.
There are days when he pictures how the scene must have looked as it unfolded. Shizuo, overflowing with rage to the point of calm, and Izaya, laughing red with his broken body giving out under him. Shizuo told him that he thought Izaya wouldn't get up again when he punched through his hasty attempt to block the blow but he did.
Of course he did, Shinra had thought to himself, because he's Izaya and that's just what he does, keeps coming back again and again, you can't get rid of him until, until—
There are days when he accepts Izaya is dead. There were no records of Orihara Izaya at any hospital or underground doctor's residence in the surrounding area. From Shizuo's reluctant description, Shinra knows that unless Izaya was transported to a hospital immediately there's little chance that he would have survived with so many extensive injuries.
The pressure that sits heavy in his chest, he doesn't understand it at all. Izaya was some sort of twisted acquaintance, someone he had barely spent any time around since high school, someone he was drawn to because they were both warped in ways that their classmates weren't.
[He was your friend,] says Celty when he voices this. [You both called each other that, didn't you? Of course you're sad. You knew each other for a long time.]
How ironic it is to be taught humanity by a dullahan, though she's always had a wider, deeper range of emotions than he has. But she's wrong. He and Izaya weren't friends, not really. Not in the way that people are usually friends, not in that way at all.
"Orihara-kun," Shinra sings, sliding up behind Izaya as he slips his school shoes off. "That was a close one today, wasn't it? Even Kadota-kun couldn't help but get involved! He disapproves, you know, but he doesn't want to say that to either of you! Hmm, not that I can blame him for that, but—ow!"
Still crouched down and changing his shoes, Izaya pinches Shinra's ankle. "Really, I can't believe it's me that Shizu-chan goes berserk at when you're the one hovering around him and running your mouth all day." He straightens up, shoes in one hand.
"Maybe it's because I'm not as awful as you are," he suggests cheerily.
"If it's a competition, you're definitely winning," retorts Izaya.
"If I dissected you I'm not even sure if I'd find a heart! If Shizuo-kun kills you then I'm going to satisfy my curiosity, okay?"
Izaya laughs brightly. Opening his locker door and placing his shoes in with one hand and gesturing with the other he says, "Well then, I promise if Shizu-chan ever manages to move his brute body fast enough to catch me then you're the only one I'll let perform the autopsy. Satisfied?"
But Izaya didn't even have the decency to leave him with a body.
/
It happens just days before he and Celty plan to leave the city. In the middle of patching up one of his last-minute patients, delivered to their door by Shiki himself, he hears that word again, the one that sends a shiver running up his spine.
"You were his friend, weren't you?" Shiki says as he watches Shinra work. He stands behind him, his face hidden. "Orihara-san. Before he disappeared."
It's a testament to his skill as a doctor that his hands don't even tremble. "Yes, Orihara-kun was a classmate of mine. Why do you ask?" The words are careful. Polite. Shiki is a sharp man and bringing any more trouble for Celty is out of the question.
"Have you heard anything on his whereabouts?"
"Orihara-kun is dead," Shinra says steadily. It is a fact. It is a truth. Orihara Izaya is dead.
"Did you see his corpse?"
He laughs hollowly and continues stitching up the bullet wound in front of him. "I don't need to. Shizuo-kun told me everything. There's no way anybody could survive that unless they were taken to a hospital immediately. Not even a person like Orihara-kun."
Shiki says nothing else for the duration of the visit except a quick word of thanks as he passes Shinra a thick envelope of bills. As he goes to show the two yakuza out, Shiki turns to him and presses a small slip of paper into Shinra's hand.
"What's this?" His eyes widen as he unfolds it.
"A phone number," says Shiki. "Of a man who used to be an executive of the Awakusu-kai. Name's Kine. I shouldn't even have been in contact with him but," he shrugs, "I took a gamble. Call him. He might be able to tell you something about your friend."
"Shiki-san…" Shinra's heart pounds as his grip tightens around the paper.
Shiki smiles wryly and his hard-lined face softens momentarily. "Bring the kid back. We've never had an informant quite like him."
Shinra dips his head. "Thank you," he says, eyes on the floor, and then he is alone.
Kine. He knows the name, of course he does, how many times had Izaya mentioned none too casually in high school that a man called Kine thought he'd be a good fit for the Awakusu-kai? Even now, things end like they started. He stares at the scrap of paper in his hand. If he calls it now will he find out everything?
If he calls it now and Izaya is still dead then he'll kill Shiki for giving him false hope.
A shiver runs through him at the thought. I really am a cruel person.
He smiles.
By the time Celty comes home, he's sitting on the couch, still toying with the paper. The edges of it are frayed by now but he's already committed the number to memory. His phone lies next to him, the screen black.
[Is everything okay?] Celty asks, curling up next to him and giving him a nudge. [What's that?]
"Shiki-san came by today," he says, his gaze unmoving even with the press of Celty at his side. "He said if I call this number then the person on the other end will be able to tell me about Izaya."
Celty hesitates, her fingers hovering over the keypad. [What does that mean?]
"He implied that Izaya-kun is still alive somewhere."
When she holds up the screen, a string of question marks stretches across it. [Are you serious?] She takes a moment to compose herself. [I did try to prolong his life at the end but… I didn't think there was anything I could do to truly save him.] She watches him closely. [Shinra? Isn't this a good thing?]
"It is!" he says quickly, forcing himself to smile.
She touches his face lightly. [You don't have to do that. Tell me what's wrong. I want to help.]
Shinra sighs and pushes himself upright. "I was thinking about something I said to Izaya-kun back in high school. 'If you or Shizuo-kun end up killing each other then it just means I'll have one less friend. If everyone in the world were to die, as long as I still had the person I loved then I'd be fine with that'. Something like that."
Celty's elbow digs into him sharply.
"I know," he says, but remorse is difficult to find. "I shouldn't have said it. But it's still true. I was sad when I thought Izaya-kun was dead but I'd have gotten over it. I've always thought that it would happen sooner or later anyway. But if something happened to you, I'd—" He stops himself, not wanting to say coldly murder whoever was responsible out loud in case it scared her.
She lays one hand over his and with the other types, [I know. But that doesn't reduce or take away from what you felt when we thought Izaya was dead.]
"Thank you, Celty," he says, so quiet that he hears his own words less than he feels them scraping at his throat. Her hands rest on each side of his face. Unable to stand it, he looks away. At that, Celty gets to her feet and grabs her helmet.
"Are you going out again?"
[I know it's not my place,] she holds up. [I never cared about Izaya. But I think Shizuo should know that he isn't a murderer.]
"I agree," says Shinra slowly. "But please wait. At least let me call before you tell him anything. If you told him and it turns out Izaya-kun isn't actually alive then it'll be worse for the both of us, and Shizuo-kun too."
She hesitates. [...You're right. Sorry. Right now, Shizuo is just…] She leaves it hanging but he knows anyway. Shizuo is just. Well. Kasuka has been coming to Ikebukuro more often than he ever has before and that's never a good sign. Never mind the fact that he's barely seen Shizuo in weeks other than catching the occasional glimpse of him out working with Tanaka. They've never been the kind of friends who keep in touch regularly, with Shizuo giving Shinra as wide a berth as possible unless he needed something stitching up, but this outright avoidance is out of character even for him.
Celty sits back down next to him, presses her cold body against his warm one and curls her legs around herself. Gently, he removes her helmet and spins it back and forth between his open palms.
"Let's leave tomorrow," he says. "Okay?"
/
It's been a week since they left Tokyo behind them and Shinra has never felt happier to be free of the city's concrete shackles. He left his phone back in their apartment, knowing that if his father returned from America before he and Celty came back then he would deal with the numerous unanswered calls on it. His new phone has been silent, programmed with only Celty's number and Kine's.
Every morning he switches it on and hovers his thumb over his contact list, hesitating. And every morning he puts it into his pocket and forgets about it until the next day.
Their hotel room in Nagano is standard, nice but nothing fancy. Shinra pushes Celty out of it every morning despite her protests of wanting to have just one day to relax and watch television instead of frantic sightseeing. He's determined to get pictures of Celty in front of every major landmark across Japan no matter how annoyed she might get at him. Mostly, she finds it easier to oblige and let herself be dragged from temple to shrine as they both ignore the people staring at the man frantically taking pictures of the woman in the full body rider suit. Sometimes it's easy to forget that not everywhere is as welcoming of anomalies as Ikebukuro is.
"Slightly to the left," Shinra calls, gesturing with his hand. "Perfect!" The camera clicks and Celty makes her way back over to him. With childish eagerness, he flicks back through the pictures so she can see them. "See, you look great!"
Celty looks firmly in the other direction. [I look the same in every one.]
"Which is beautiful!" he says enthusiastically.
She elbows him in response and they begin their search for lunch. As he slides into a seat opposite her in a small ramen restaurant tucked away into a narrow alley, she says, [Oh. There was something I wanted to talk to you about.]
His omnipresent smile fades. "What is it?"
Celty's shoulders tighten in hesitation. She surveys the screen in indecision before typing quickly. Sensing her discomfort, he moves round and crouches by her seat to watch. [I think you should call Kine today. I think it would make you happier, well… no, that's not exactly what I mean, what I mean to say is…] She backspaces in frustration. [I think it would give you peace of mind. Before we leave this city, you should call him.]
Shinra stares at the text for a long moment and then straightens up. "Okay. I will."
[Really?! I thought you'd protest…]
He shrugs. "It would make you happier too, wouldn't it? I know you're curious. You don't have to hide it."
She looks away, embarrassment clear in the tight folding of her arms.
"So I'll do it." He smiles at her. If it's what Celty thinks he should do then he'll do it, no questions asked.
True to his word, that evening he sits on the bed in their hotel room with his phone weighing heavy in his hand. Celty left to give him privacy, preferring to go out at night anyway as she blended in better. He sighs and runs a hand across his face. He can't even pinpoint the source of his nerves.
Another moment of hesitation and then he hits the call button.
The man picks up almost immediately. "Hello?"
Shinra hesitates, regretting not planning exactly what he was going to say before dialing.
"Hello?" the man repeats, slightly more aggressively.
"Kine?"
It's Kine's turn to be silent. "Who is this? How did you get this number?"
"My name is Kishitani Shinra, you might—"
"Oh." It's as though Shinra can visibly see the other man relax. "Shingen's son."
It's not a question but Shinra answers it anyway. "Yes."
"Why are you calling me?"
Shinra takes a breath. "I was told that you could give me information on the informant Orihara Iza—"
"Who gave you this number?" Kine interrupts.
Shinra makes a sound of annoyance. It's quickly becoming clear that he isn't going to get anywhere. "Shiki of the Awakusu-kai," he says reluctantly.
A rough sigh comes from the other end of the line. "Shoulda known it," Kine says gruffly. "Suppose he wouldn't have given you this number if he didn't have a good reason. What d'you want to know?"
"Just…" His throat suddenly feels dry, each word scraping its way out. "Is he alive?"
"Alive? Izaya?" Kine sounds surprised. "Yeah, he's alive. That's all you wanted to ask?"
Shinra's heart races in his chest so loudly he thinks that Kine must be able to hear it too. "That's all."
"You sure?" he asks, confusion clear in his tone. "Look, I can't give you an exact address because he's been moving around as much as he can but I have his primary phone number if you want that."
"Ah, I'm not sure—" Shinra begins, but Kine cuts him off again.
"I'll text it to the number you're calling from now. He'll probably be pissed off at me but it might be good for him to speak to someone that isn't work related."
"That's really not—" he protests weakly, but his phone has already buzzed in his hand, indicating that the contact information has been received.
"That all?" Kine asks. Shinra can hear his fingers drumming against some kind of surface. "I'm tossing this phone after I hang up so don't bother calling again. Tell your father I'm ignoring his emails if you see him."
He hangs up.
Shinra lowers the phone from his ear and stares at it. The screen is still bright with the new notification, nestled amongst his texts from Celty. With a sigh, he opens it and clicks on the information. Sure enough, Izaya's name glares out at him from the screen. A taunt. A challenge.
It feels like Izaya is making fun of him, though it's never been a quality of his that bothered Shinra until now. Even in high school Izaya always liked feeling like he was one step ahead of the rest of the world, looking back and laughing, his eyes glittering with secrets and that overwhelming air of I know something you don't that he carried with him everywhere. Shinra always let him, never caring enough to bring him down a notch. Why try to change a person who doesn't want to be changed? Besides, he always found Izaya's need to feel superior to everyone else amusing in his own way.
He knew everything Izaya thought he was unaware of: Izaya's fascination with him and his conflicted dislike of Celty; his regarding of Shinra as more of a rival than a friend; his bone-deep jealousy of everything that Shinra was and he wasn't.
And now, Shinra has taken another step ahead of Izaya in obtaining information on him that Izaya himself remains unaware of.
Rather than feeling closer to him, it feels as though they're walking in opposite directions. Izaya has always been distant, permanently just out of reach, and Shinra has never once found it within himself to care. But with the dark text of his name glowing on the screen of his phone, Shinra has never felt further away.
Bitterness rises in his chest and in one fluid motion, he turns the phone off and throws it across the bed, just softly enough so that it won't bounce onto the floor and break. He lies back, stares at the off-white ceiling and waits for Celty to come back. She'll know what he should do. She always does.
/
By the time Celty returns it's nearly eight in the evening. She enters quietly, letting the door click shut behind her. The only light comes from the bedside lamp he turned on earlier, dim yellow creeping across the ceiling. Outside, night presses against the window.
"Welcome back," Shinra says, sitting up. He swings his legs around so he's sitting over the edge of the bed and gestures for Celty to sit next to him.
She obliges. [Did you call?]
"Yeah." He grabs his phone that he'd turned back on a little while ago and shows her. "Kine gave me his number."
[Really?! So he's okay after all?]
"It sounds like it," he says. The laugh bubbles out of him easier than he expected it to. "It seems Izaya-kun is more resilient than even I thought he was."
[What are you going to do?] she asks. [Are you going to call him?]
"Ah." He scratches his head. "I'm not sure."
[I see,] she types quickly. [Do you know why?]
"I never… really expected to get back in contact with him again," he says slowly. It's not like calling an old school friend you haven't seen in a while. Izaya isn't that kind of person. Shinra isn't that kind of person. He's never cared to seek out old acquaintances to catch up with them. Pleasantries like that have always seemed pointless when he could spend that time with Celty instead.
[You had a history together.]
"Well — so do we," he insists. "It's not—" but she's already holding up the PDA again as though his answer was expected.
[Not in the same way.] She pauses and he can tell she's unwilling to say whatever is coming next. [I love you now. But I didn't love you then.]
She's trying to prompt a reaction out of him but the words still sting regardless. "You're saying that…"
[I'm saying that he did,] Celty says. [Maybe not in the same way that I love you, or in the way that you wanted to be loved. But he was willing to do anything to get revenge on the boy who stabbed you. No matter what.]
He doesn't understand the sweat that beads across his closed palms.
She wipes the text. [Doesn't that sound familiar?]
It does. Shinra looks away. "He was only fascinated by me. His jealousy kept him close to me, because of the distance I put between myself and everyone else. He wanted to be like that too. That's why our friendship lasted. Because he wanted to unravel why I was like that."
Even he knows that's a weak argument.
Celty's shoulders rise and fall in an imitation of a sigh. [Even after he found out about me he still called you his friend. I think he just doesn't know how to properly love anyone. I feel sorry for him. He's a horrible person but the thought of living a life like his, without being loved by anyone, that's…]
"So you're not jealous because you pity Izaya?" he asks.
[Something like that,] she says. [Did you love him?]
"No." As long as Celty exists he knows he could never love anybody else.
And if Celty didn't exist?
He doesn't know the answer to that.
She squeezes his hand one last time. [I'll come back in a couple of hours, okay?]
He watches her go with a sinking heart. There is no good reason to be afraid. Though the mere sound of his name can strike trepidation into others, Izaya has never scared Shinra because Shinra has always seen straight through him. There has never been any question in his true motives to Shinra. Izaya has always been as clear as glass, every concealment of his emotions telling Shinra more about him than the emotions themselves.
So then why—
But he knows why. Why he kept Izaya at an arm's length when he could have stopped a lot of the damage he did if he'd only spoken to him, why Izaya returned that distance, why he held off on hoping that Izaya was alive because if his hope turned out to be misplaced then it would have hurt that much more—
In the end, Shinra does what he always does. He pushes the uncomfortable feelings aside and presses the call button.