Archive of Our Own ^beta

There's a crowd murmuring, gathering on the bridge and peering into the lake. The sky’s crackling, close to splitting with white light, but sixteen year old Izaya Orihara worms his way up to the front anyway, a lollipop shoved in the left side of his mouth. It's bubblegum flavored, but his little sister, Mairu, calls it the "lonely old fish” taste. He supposes Mairu just likes how the words sound, but between her comment and the rain, Izaya's surprised he's still able to look at bubblegum relatively the same way.

He gets to the front, squints into the lake. A short laugh bursts from him: damn, he almost loses his lollipop. There's a kid in the water, and a guy -- not just any guy, but Shizuo Heiwajima, local protozoan and Izaya's very own lab partner. The kid is wailing, voice cutting through the air as she shakes on Shizuo’s shoulders, small hands fisted in his hair. The lake’s swirling, trapping the girl and Shizuo. Izaya's sharp eyes watch the scene, watch how the girl is clinging to Shizuo and how he’s is struggling against the water. No doubt Shizuo’s refusing to use his freakish strength out of concern for the girl. Shizu-chan always, always, always jumped head-on into situations without a second thought.

How, Izaya wonders, could his beloved humans let a monster play hero?

He cups his hands over his eyes, frowns. Shizuo looks decidedly less monster-like today, the way he’s standing completely still, worry etched into his face.

It’s odd.

Izaya shifts his weight, runs his tongue over his teeth. Glaces at the unmoving crowd. Looks back down at Shizuo. He tastes bubblegum, now strangely bitter. Not quite fishlike, but almost. It’s the same taste that slipped in and out with his parents’ visits. Izaya would’ve thought they were phantoms if they didn’t leave notes every time.

Love you!

A wave crashes over Shizuo and the girl. A woman gasps but the two of them bob back to the surface.

Shizuo, Izaya thinks, is definitely the kind of person who would say ‘I’ll protect you with everything I have.’

But how?

How, when you won’t use your strength? You’ll be a monster either way -- the only difference is that girl’s life.

When he’d first met Shizuo, he’d known the guy was a tempest, capable of blowing anything out of his path. Shizuo had refused to even look at him, just sent the first punch flying. It had sent a thrill through him, to find a beast among humans, and now the beast was going to sink into stormy depths.

A world without Shizu-chan?

Such a thing could only be called

(boring)

perfect. Heavenly, really.

But --

Would Shizuo sink so easily?

Would he die like this, when Izaya was clearly the one who had a claim on Shizuo’s life? The protozoan was still holding his own, yet --

(a world without Shizu-chan?)

I can't tell who's wilder: the brute, or the current, is Izaya's only thought before he grits his teeth and vaults over the bridge.

The water is cold , worse than when his apartment had lost power for a week last winter, when the twins had huddled up to him for warmth -- even then, their teeth had chattered. The waves are strong, twisting around his body and soaking into his bones. Without his umbrella, the rain feels like bullets, pelting his head and dropping onto his eyelids.

He feels like Mairu’s lonely old fish. Blind, foolish, with the weight of his actions slowly sinking in.

While Izaya knew the theory of swimming and actually swimming were very different, he assumed it would be manageable. Of course, whenever Shizuo's involved, he should expect the most unpredictable things. He kicks his feet, imitating Shizuo’s posture. This isn't the time to panic.

Yet he feels something bubbling in his stomach anyway. Somehow, his mind drifts to the welts Shizuo had left on his waist last week.

Why?

“Flea?!" Shizuo says, looking at him fiercely through a mop of wet hair. Izaya can barely make out the dark brown of his eyes; his own hair is plastered to his face. "What the--"

"Fancy meeting you here, Shizu-chan." Izaya says airily, trying to ignore the spray of water that hits the back of his tongue. There goes his lollipop. Shizuo’s still squinting at him, with no indication that he’d heard; Izaya outstretches his hand patiently. “I’ve got a wire; come here.”

"What?!" Yeah, Shizuo can't hear him.

"Try to swim closer." Izaya beckons, and confusion evident, Shizuo treads over. It takes him a while to balance the girl and move, but Shizuo somehow manages to come to him until they're practically nose to nose, the water throwing them against each other. Shizuo's drenched, breathing hard just like the animal he is, but Izaya feels his heart begin to stutter when their chests bump.

Only the two of us would get into a situation like this.

Trying to fight a quiet laugh, Izaya begins looping the wire around Shizuo’s hand. He’s held Shizuo’s hands once before, when the brute’d been choking him. He hadn’t been able to pry him off -- Shinra had run over (idiot) and called Shizuo away with the mention of Kasuka.

Shizuo’s fingers aren’t as rough when they’re pruned from the water, but it makes Izaya think of aging, and that doesn’t seem to fit either of them.

"What're you doing," Shizuo says, totally bewildered. "Izaya--"

"Shut up," Izaya replies, because all he can think about is the current tugging at his legs, all he can hear is the girl wailing over the rush of blood in his body, and all he can see is Shizuo's flushed face and trembling fingers. The crowd has dispersed at this point, mainly -- two or three remain. One woman's on the phone, struggling to hold her umbrella one-handed against the howling wind.

The world refuses to quiet.

"Okay," Izaya says, "so I'm going to throw my knife up there, catch the bridge, and you pull us up with your monster-strength, got that?"

The girl's stopped crying now. She’s watching them curiously, her hands still clutching onto Shizuo’s hair. She's quite cute, Izaya notices idly, with straight black bangs and wide eyes. Definitely not old enough to be outside in a storm without her parents -- perhaps one of them is in the crowd, letting Shizuo do all the work. Izaya clicks his tongue. His humans are hopeless.

"Will it hold?" Shizuo says, worried.

"It's my wire," Izaya says softly. Shizuo has to crane his head closer to hear him, lips ghosting by Izaya’s cheek. "It'll hold."

"Then fuckin' throw it already," Shizuo says, voice muffled by another wave of water. Izaya pulls out his blade, ties the wire around its hilt tightly. With a graceful flick of his wrist, he sends the knife -- and the wire -- sailing, lodging it into the bridge. The remaining people immediately crowd around it, as if they could somehow help.

Shizuo pulls, tentative at first, but then they’re moving.

Before Izaya comprehends what he’s doing, he’s grabbed onto Shizuo’s arm.

It takes about three minutes and thirty seconds for Shizuo to haul them out. Izaya takes those three minutes and thirty seconds to memorize the outline, the feel of Shizuo's shoulders and torso -- of everything. Even though it's wet and cold and the girl's crying again, there’s heat surging through Izaya as he burns it all into his mind. This is the closest he'll ever get to stupid, stupid Shizu-chan, local protozoan and his worst lab partner. The air between their bodies has been reduced to nothing -- he really could throw up. It’s sickening.

The woman on the phone is, after all, the girl's mother, and takes the girl with a hushed, relieved, "Akane!" The woman stutters her thanks to Shizuo, as Izaya's already heading the other way, knife and wire clutched tightly in his hand. Izaya passes his hand over his eyes and turns the corner, hears sopping wet footsteps slap after him.

Please, slip and die. That’s such a small thing to ask for, Shizu-chan, so grant my wish just this once.

"Flea!" Shizuo grabs his wrist, spins him, and their noses and chests are bumping again. Shizuo’s fingers don’t slip on the wet fabric of Izaya’s sleeve, don’t falter even as Izaya scowls. Anyone other than Shizuo would’ve been afraid upon seeing the slash of Izaya’s mouth, but Shizuo -- he’s always been different.

(never listens)

Izaya wants to hold his hand. Wanted to hold his hand the day they first met, even when Shizuo tried to send him flying with a mere fist. Wanted to hold it even when Shizuo’s fingers were closed around his throat.

No matter what, he wants to know everything about this person.

(then Shizuo could look at him properly)

“Izaya,” Shizuo starts, but Izaya interrupts, a smile twisting his lips.

"Go home," Izaya says, a bit breathless. His throat's still burning. "Not even monsters are impervious from the cold, you know?"

Shizuo's brow knits. "Imper--? Whatever. Flea, you can't fucking swim, what the fuck?!"

"How do you know that," Izaya says, and even with the rain falling around them, even with the state of their clothes and skin, his mouth is dry. He knows he should've laughed it off, denied it, but his mind's racing.

How does he know that there’s no way he could find out unless -- unless Shinra --

"Shinra told me," Shizuo says, staring at him with that fierce gaze still. "He said -- he said never to run you into the water."

And just like that, Izaya's knees feel weak. Fuck, all of him feels like it's about to give way. The water must’ve taken more out of him than expected, but he keeps standing straight, mouth flattening. It takes more strength than expected, but for Shizuo, Izaya will go to any lengths to win.

"How kind of you,"  Izaya says bitingly. "That doesn't explain why you're still standing here, Shizu-chan."

"Why'd you do that?" Shizuo says, utterly honest, open, even as his free hand clenches at his side. "What if you drowned? What're you planning this time, Izaya?"

"If I died, Shizu-chan would be safe and happy," Izaya croons. Shizuo's still holding his wrist, holding him close, and there's a fire in his stomach, spreading up, up to his cheeks, to the tips of his hair. But Izaya continues to look at Shizuo calmly, refusing to speak, refusing to say why -- how could he, when his body just moved?

How could Shizuo ask him what he was planning, when Shizuo causes everything to fall apart?

Shizuo shakes him, looking absolutely furious -- worried? He’s worried, Izaya realizes, and it disgusts him more than Shizuo’s usual behavior.

"You helped me," Shizuo mutters. "And I don't know why, but -- uh -- fuck, whatever. You don’t seem to be plannin’ anything. Thanks, I guess. Fucking crazy flea."

Izaya pulls his hand free, points his flick blade straight at Shizuo's face. "You're my kill," Izaya hisses. "Not a little girl's. So don't go off like that again."

"Huh," Shizuo blinks, then chuckles, breaking into that wild, twisted grin Izaya knew so well. There's something different about it, something slightly off, but Izaya feels his own lips twist in return. It’s a smile Shizuo gives only him. "And you're mine, flea."

The world finally quiets, then. It’s like he’s in an underwater bubble, but Shizuo’s managed to steal the breath right from Izaya's lungs. He’s going to die like this, hearing those words. He’s really drowning now, in this distorted world where Shizuo has a gentle voice.

Something must be showing on his face. Shizuo steps back, lifts a hand in an awkward goodbye. "Oi -- take care. We've got lab tomorrow."

Izaya doesn’t bother responding, just turns and runs.

(he’s always running, always with those eyes following him)

(somehow, this feels different)  

When Izaya returns home, his sisters immediately clasp onto his leg. Feeling the damp fabric, they recoil and scamper to the kitchen.

Izaya takes his shoes off slowly, heads to his room to change. Pulling his shirt over his head, his hands ghost over the bruises scattered across his skin.

And you’re mine.

He supposes Shizuo isn’t wrong -- the two of them, they’ve struck up an odd system. Even on days Izaya doesn’t seek out Shizuo, the brute ends up finding him, convinced that he was Up to Something. There are times when Izaya gleans that it isn’t that -- not about plans and schemes -- and those are the days when their chases are far more languid, when Shizuo laughs a bit more freely. In a way, he sees Shizuo more than he sees his own family.

“Iza-nii!” Mairu calls impatiently.

He changes, sets out food for them, and rests his head on his arms as they eat. Mairu's chattering away, Kururi murmuring every now and then, but all he can hear is Shizuo's rough You're mine .

Shizuo’s words had lacked their usual bite, found power in something else.

Izaya falls asleep like that, wakes up to find that his sisters have covered him in his blanket as well as their own. Kururi’s made him toast, too, and he takes a bite of the stiff bread before making his way to his room.

Shizuo, fundamentally, is a protozoan. They’ll be fine, revert right back to their daily life with no problem. Izaya nods to himself as he climbs into his own bed, squeezes his eyes shut, and tries not to think of Shizuo.

He’s still cold, though. And when he wakes, he breaks from a dream of oceans and trembling, rough hands around his neck.

They don't speak at all during lab -- Izaya would’ve thought it was all a dream if Shizuo's eyes weren’t still little red, if he didn’t seem so subdued. The weather's the same as yesterday, with torrents of rain pouring down outside. Shinra whines about how they won't be able to eat on the roof today before Kadota hushes him.

Izaya finds himself wondering if Shizuo’s hair would feel coarse between his fingers. Gripping the pen in his hand, he occupies his mind with calculations instead, using his elbow to keep Shizuo away from the actual experiment as usual. That is, until Shizuo takes his arm and spins Izaya to face him. “Let me help, flea."

He’s speaking quietly.

"There’s not much you can do on your own," Izaya dismisses him, but already, his heart beat's picked up from the sheer proximity of their faces, the tone of Shizuo’s words. He turns away, hurriedly keeps writing. "And we're almost done, anyway."

For once, Shizuo doesn't complain, just begins to scribble the notes from over Izaya's shoulder.

He’s too close again, and Izaya can feel the weight of his gaze.

Shizuo lingers once class lets out. Izaya opens his umbrella, finds Shizuo in front of him once he raises it above his head.

"Shizu-chan," Izaya says. "What else can I do for you today?"

Normally, Shizuo'd say "You can shut the fuck up,"and it certainly begins that way, except Shizuo ends up saying, "You can tell me why you jumped in the water yesterday. You could've just thrown me the line."

"You know what they say," Izaya says, smiling blithely. "To get the job done, you have to do it yourself! I can't trust Shizu-chan with anything at all. What if you pulled me in? What if you lost the wire?"

Shizuo's trying to read him again; Izaya can see it in the way his face crumples and his eyes narrow. But Shizuo wouldn't know what to look for -- wouldn't know what to call anything he found.

“But why?”

“Didn’t I just tell you why?”

"You acted weird in lab today," Shizuo adds suspiciously, and Izaya forces even more cheer into his voice, replies, "You were especially incompetent today, Shi-zu-chan."

"I jus' wanted to help," Shizuo shrugs, eyes flickering from side to side before settling on Izaya. "And I mean, there wasn’t a reason for you to jump. You didn’t know that girl.”

Izaya, fiddling with his umbrella, merely smiles. Truthfully, he has no idea what to say, so he’ll let Shizuo come to his own inane conclusions.

“I think I have an idea, though." Shizuo adds, sounding a bit stronger.

"Shizu-chan, those never end well."

"This might," Shizuo insists, and he's close again, too, too, too close, and Izaya can almost hear water rushing between them as Shizuo steps even closer, fingers brushing under Izaya's chin, forcing it up.

And then -- Shizuo doesn't kiss him.

Shizuo just -- watches him, and Izaya can see the full-blown panic of his own eyes in Shizuo's, the way his lips are parted and cheeks are red. He's lost grip on his umbrella, and Shizuo's hand drops from Izaya's face to grab his hands, and he says, "You jumped because of me."

"You're my kill," Izaya exhales sharply, because why would he think about idiot Shizuo kissing him, idiot Shizuo who definitely just pulled some sort of protozoan trick on him. "Try to remember what I tell you sometimes, ne?"

"Most high-schoolers don't talk about killing," Shizuo continues offhandedly. "But I guess I ain't too different."

“You’re not most people,” Izaya’s words sound flat, even to his own ears.

God, Shizuo's running his thumbs over Izaya's hands, looking at him through his lashes, and mine you’re mine echoes in Izaya’s head. His kill , Izaya thinks frantically, as Shizuo says, "You're not totally awful, you know. So I dunno why you act like it. You wanted to be friends, right? Look -- flea -- Izaya -- I'm not gonna say I was totally wrong about you. But -- you did save me yesterday, even if -- well -- how do I say this -- it's for your own weird reasons. And -- ugh, fuck -- can I kiss you?"

(this it it -- he definitely drowned yesterday)

"Shizu-chan," he says finally, fingers scrabbling to escape Shizuo's grip, "you hit your head, didn't you?"

"That's not a no."

"It's not a yes."

"Izaya," Shizuo says softly, squeezing his hands, "I wasn’t gonna say that, actually, but I’m askin' cause I think you want me to. And you look kinda cute right now."

Izaya can't even find words for the idiocy his lab partner is putting him through right now. Not in Japanese, or Russian, or even English.

"So I jumped into a lake and suddenly you think I want to kiss you," Izaya tries to keep his voice as even as possible. "Shizu-chan, we might have to work on your analysis skills."

"Even now, you're offerin' to help me," Shizuo says triumphantly. He hasn’t seen a look of childish glee on Shizuo before. It’s kind of stupid, kind of cute, and makes Izaya want to bite off his tongue. He’s preparing an insult when yet again Shizuo surprises him.

"Yesterday, I felt somethin'," Shizuo says. "Like... a new you? Kinda? Maybe that’s always been you. And I liked you. For once. And today, too, you weren’t so bad." With another squeeze, he murmurs into Izaya's hands, "I won't ask again -- is this what you'd want?"

(yes -- no -- yes)

Izaya's nails cut into Shizuo's hands before he pulls him close, slamming their mouths together, because nothing mattered if it means he could get close to stupid Shizu-chan again, local protozoan, extreme failure of a lab partner -- his.

(you're mine)