Chapter Text
Shizuo doesn’t have time to dwell on secret, gnawing hungers that might be eating him from the inside. There’s work to go to and people to beat the shit out of. He reschedules his meeting with Izaya twice because he’s just so damn busy.
And Izaya is actually going to follow Shizuo home and stab him, because it looks like he’ll be rescheduling a third time. Akabayashi waves him down when he’s on the way to his car.
Shizuo’s mind flashes to everything he’s ever done wrong as he wonders if he’s about to be fired. And to things he hasn’t done, just to cover his bases—Akabayashi is notorious for his moral code. He could be objecting to anything. He doesn’t have any way of knowing what Shizuo’s guilty of. Because Shizuo hasn’t done anything. This is probably a normal meeting.
Akabayashi is smiling when Shizuo shuts the door behind him, which does a lot to reassure Shizuo that he’s probably not getting shot today. It’s a strained smile, but he doesn’t look disgusted, just annoyed. That’s fine. Everything is fine.
Shizuo takes a seat when Akabayashi does. He waits for the reason for this meeting to become apparent.
“Our mole with the Asuki group is dead.” Akabayashi says.
“Huh.” Shizuo says. That seems like a strange thing to tell Shizuo, whose job is generally not to know which moles are where except as they relate to Izaya. Who he’s not thinking about in front of Akabayashi.
“That’s a problem. Asuki can be hard to get information on in the first place, and they have a recent weapons shipment that we need information on yesterday. We were counting on that mole, but obviously that’s not going to pan out.” Akabayashi continues.
“Okay.” Shizuo says. “So…you want me to bust some heads, or…?”
Akabayashi shakes his head. “Not exactly. We need information.”
“Yes?” Shizuo says.
“So, we need an informant.” Akabayashi prods.
“Oh.” Shizuo feels monumentally stupid. So much for not thinking of him. “Izaya.”
“That’s the first thing Shiki thought, too.” Akabayashi says. “Well, there’s a lot more that went into it than that, but basically he wants Izaya to try to infiltrate the group. He’s young, ambitious, and if he can manage this without getting his head blown off, we could use him for a lot more risky work in the future.”
Shizuo doesn’t like the sound of that. “Didn’t they literally just kill someone spying for us?”
Akabayashi nods. “That’s my sticking point, too. Seems like a waste to send him in just to get killed. Not to mention who it might piss off.”
Izaya’s unclear parentage saves him again. Or, Shizuo assumes that’s what Akabayashi is talking about. He’s holding pointed eye contact.
Shizuo glances away. Akabayashi frowns.
“Luckily for Izaya, his contract with us specifies he can turn down any job for any reason. All it takes to get him out of this is a no from him, and I’ll tell Shiki to shove it and find someone else.”
Shizuo likes the sound of that better, but he’s worked here long enough to know that nothing is that easy. “What’s the catch?”
Akabayashi shrugs. “It won’t help his career to turn down a job like this. He won’t get any punishment for it, but it might mean Shiki thinks of someone else first next time he needs a job like this done.”
He doesn’t sound too concerned about it. In fact, the way he says it, it sounds kind of like a plus to Shizuo. “Okay? Is that it?”
“If he turns the job down? Yes. That’s all of it.” Akabayashi says. He taps at his cane. “And if he doesn’t…”
“He will.” He has the girls to live for, there’s no way he’d sign himself up for something stupidly risky with literally no benefit.
“Alright. Just making sure.” Akabayashi nods. “It would be a damn shame to lose him, or you, too, if things were to get out of hand.”
Ah. Don’t flip out and try to kill your boss if his shitty orders get someone killed. Shizuo hasn’t heard this lecture in a while. Then again, it’s been a while since anyone gave orders stupid enough that Shizuo had to flip out and try to kill them about it.
That guy got better, anyway. With some more physical therapy, he’ll be walking again soon.
“I understand.” Shizuo says to Akabayashi. “It’ll be fine.”
Shizuo manages to make his meeting with Izaya only about ten minutes late, not that that saves him from a scathing look when he arrives. Izaya pointedly takes a sip of some kind of wine as Shizuo sits down before Shizuo can swipe it from him and dump it in a potted plant.
Shizuo can already tell that this is going to be a shitty meeting.
“So happy that I finally make your priority list,” Izaya says tartly. “It’s good to see you, too, Shizu-chan. I’d ask how Kasuka is, but I’ve seen him more than I’ve seen you lately.”
Shizuo feels better just seeing him again, like some part of him can relax knowing Izaya’s in the room. Which is stupid on so many levels—Izaya isn’t someone to let his guard down with.
“Nothing to say for yourself? At least we don’t have to waste time on excuses.”
Shizuo’s fingernails bite into his palms.
“Sorry,” he mutters, in the interest of getting this over with, “got busy.”
“Let’s pretend I believe that and move on to business.” Izaya really is pissed with him. Great.
“I got a job for you.” Shizuo tries to focus on work. Didn’t these meetings used to be about work? “Stupid one. Akabayashi says you can just say no to it.”
“I want it,” Izaya says almost before Shizuo is done talking.
“Huh?” Shizuo blinks. Izaya looks intent. “I haven’t even told you what it is yet. It really is stupid, you’d get killed the second you tried it.”
“I think that’s for me to decide. This is the job with the Asuki group, isn’t it?” Izaya’s sharp eyes cut across Shizuo’s. “Your mole died and you need information on their weapons shipment yesterday. They’re on high alert because they know the Awakusu group is spying. Yes?”
“How the hell did you know about that?” Shizuo asks. He finds himself clenching and releasing his fists just to have something to do with his hands.
Izaya turns his nose up, dismissing him entirely. “I have my sources.”
“I’m your damn source.” Shizuo argues. “Who else is telling you what your jobs are before I am?”
The only people who would know would be Shiki and Akabayashi—no one else would get the intel that the mole is dead, especially not so soon. Akabayashi told Shizuo to talk to Izaya, so that leaves…
“Shiki and I had a very interesting conversation this morning,” Izaya says, beginning to examine his nails. “I’ve had so much free time since my alleged point of contact ghosted me for two weeks. He was getting concerned that I’d find work with other organizations.”
“Don’t talk to Shiki, he’s dangerous,” Shizuo hisses. Even he knows that Shiki has a trail of bodies behind him to have gotten where he is now. He would not hesitate to add one more idiot teen to his count if it put him ahead in any way.
“He’s a critical contact to have. Especially if my connection to the Awakusu group is liable to disappear without a word.” Izaya still won’t look up, his tone almost bored if not for the prickling edges of it.
“Look, if I promise not to miss another meeting with you, will you drop this?” Shizuo asks.
Izaya barks a laugh, finally glancing up enough to meet Shizuo’s gaze with scorn. “Adorable that you think you’re that important to my plans. No. I’m taking this job, and you don’t have a say in it.”
Shizuo hisses a breath through his teeth, trying not to shake Izaya until his teeth rattle. “It’s a damn suicide mission.”
“Not for me.” Izaya dismisses. “They won’t see me coming.”
“Literally everyone knows you work for us.” Shizuo tries to keep his shoulders relaxed and his breathing even. He thinks of calming things like throttling the dipshit in front of him.
“But the benefits outweigh the losses. I need this job.” Izaya meets his eyes for once, dead serious. “This is a trial run. Shiki is using this job to see if I can handle the stress and get back intact.”
“So? Tell him to fuck off.”
“So, if I complete it, I become Shiki’s first choice for critical, sensitive jobs. Which means he needs me alive more than dead. I get the Awakusu group’s protection without formally joining up.” Izaya explains with exaggerated patience. “Shiki is offering me the opportunity to become too important to kill.”
Shizuo scowls. This kind of complex plotting is what he hates most about his line of work, except maybe for the work itself. He’s never had a head for it and it usually ends in a bunch of people dead for reasons that don’t make sense.
Still, even he can get the gist of it when Izaya explains it to him. “So you think this job would actually make you more safe?”
Izaya nods. “And protect my status as an independent partner to the Awakusu group without getting absorbed into it. I think we can both agree that I’ll be better off without selling my soul quite yet.”
Shizuo snorts. The only part of Izaya’s job that could be considered smart instead of a clever way to get himself killed is the fact that he’s technically independent. Shizuo has no illusions that he’ll ever be allowed to retire, but Izaya doesn’t have that commitment yet.
Still…
“This job sounded risky. Akabayashi pretty much said if you take it you’ll probably die.” Shizuo reminds Izaya, in case the stakes have somehow escaped him.
Izaya waves him off. “Don’t worry about that aspect of it. I have a secret weapon.”
“Sure,” Shizuo says, dubious.
“Anyway, I’ll need you to do something for me while I’m out. Stay at my place for a few days.” Izaya says.
“Sorry?” Shizuo isn’t sure he heard that right.
Izaya frowns like he’s being deliberately dense, and Shizuo feels a matching scowl edging to the surface.
“The girls. They can take care of themselves for a few days, but they’ll be hysterical if I leave them alone for that long. I need a placeholder so they know I’m coming back.” Izaya says.
“You mean a babysitter? You’re asking me to babysit?” Shizuo hasn’t been trusted to be alone with children since Kasuka was small, and even then only if he promised not to lose his temper. He is the last babysitter in the world that anyone should choose.
Then again, it’s not like Izaya is flush with trustworthy friends. Maybe Shizuo is his last choice.
“Sure,” Izaya says, “whatever you want to call it. You get a free room to crash in for a few days, and you can bring Kasuka if you want. The girls won’t freak out if someone is home with them. Just don’t let them leave the house or run with scissors for three days or so, and I can take care of the rest when I get back. I’ll call the daycare to let them know they won’t be in.”
“You don’t want them going to daycare?” Shizuo asks.
Izaya shrugs. “They can be escape artists when I leave them for too long. They’ll be fine entertaining themselves at home for a few days, and if you check in with them every night and keep the doors locked they shouldn’t try to run.”
Izaya sounds cold and uncaring when he talks about the kids getting so lonely that they run away from home when he’s gone.
He covers Izaya’s lying face with his hand. “Quit talking like that. Act like a human.”
“I am a human,” Izaya’s voice doesn’t sound so hard anymore, broken up by offense as he leans out of Shizuo’s reach. “I don’t want to hear that from you, Shizu-chan. Will you do it or not?”
“Of course I’ll do it. I’ll try to come home early so they aren’t alone for too long. Kasuka can probably visit over his lunch hour to make sure they eat okay.”
“Well, no need to spoil them,” Izaya gripes. “They’re almost six, they can get a sandwich out of the fridge on their own. Just keep them alive until I get back.”
“Izaya,” Shizuo lets his palm tap the table between them. “It’s fine. I don’t mind looking after them. We’ll make it work.”
Izaya doesn’t meet his eyes, but Shizuo is pretty sure he’s believed.
Shizuo arrives at the Orihara household on Friday afternoon to find a mess.
Every paper towel in the house has been wadded up in a big pile in the kitchen, and when he lets himself in he catches a glimpse of one twin running to add even more to the heap. She’s wearing an adorable little bear sweater, and Shizuo instinctively winces when she smacks right into the cabinets while rounding the corner.
Mairu (he’s pretty sure) barely seems to notice that or the two paper towels that escaped her grasp on impact, and Shizuo scoops them up as she thunders by to drop the rest off.
“Hi, Mairu,” he says, and she screams.
He catches her as she whips around to face him, and then she’s gone again as Izaya materializes out of nowhere and bundles her behind him. He relaxes once he recognizes Shizuo. Shizuo is pretty sure he sees a knife being slipped back into Izaya’s pocket.
“Sorry,” Shizuo offers, feeling huge and scary and out of place. “The door was unlocked, so…”
Izaya steps aside, but Mairu shuffles after him so he’s still between her and Shizuo.
“Manners,” she mumbles to herself, and now that Shizuo is looking at her he’s pretty sure this is actually Kururi.
“No, this is Shizu-chan. We don’t care about manners with Shizu-chan,” Izaya coaches her, resting a hand on her head and encouraging her to come out from the safety of his thigh.
That makes Shizuo feel stupidly warm for a second, remembering that manners is the Oriharas’ code for someone dangerous is here. Obviously Izaya must trust him with Mairu and Kururi if he’s asking Shizuo to babysit, but…Izaya really does trust him. It’s just nice.
“Hi.” Shizuo waves, crouching down so he won’t tower over probably-Kururi. “Sorry I scared you. Do you remember me?”
“Moon,” she mutters uncertainly.
Shizuo thinks for a second before he understands, but luckily Izaya is already on it. “That’s right, you drew him on the moon, and he loved it. I bet it’s on his fridge right now.”
It’s on the wall in his room, actually, where he can see it when he’s having a rough night.
Kururi seems bolstered by this idea, giving Shizuo a measuring look and creeping out from her hiding place. She’s still clinging to Izaya’s leg, but that seems to just be what the twins do. “Shizu-chan.”
“That’s me. Do you want to say hi?” Shizuo asks.
“No,” Kururi says. “It’s okay. Bye.”
She scurries off to the bedroom Shizuo’s been in once, the master bedroom that must have belonged to her parents.
It’s then that he realizes what she and Izaya are wearing. Both of them have aprons on and handkerchiefs covering their hair, Kururi’s tied tightly to stay on. They’re also covered in dust.
Shizuo rises to his feet again. “So, uh, cleaning day?” he asks.
Izaya barks a laugh. “It was overdue.”
That much is true—last time Shizuo was over, the master bedroom was covered in a thick layer of dust, most of which seems to have migrated onto Izaya for the time being.
“You’ve got a little…” Shizuo goes to gesture, but pointing at all of Izaya doesn’t really help. He leans in to pick some lint off of Izaya’s shoulder.
Izaya doesn’t lean away, but does wave a hand dismissively. “Don’t bother. These clothes are a sacrifice.”
“To the gods of Friday night cleaning sprees?” Shizuo asks.
Izaya gifts him with a little half-smile that actually looks sincere for once. His eyes are missing their usual steel in favor of something warmer. “Something like that. You do need a place to stay, after all.”
Oh. “I was just gonna be on the couch…” Shizuo says. “You don’t have to—I mean, if you’d rather not clean out your parents’ room…”
Izaya has left the room completely untouched since his parents’ deaths, if Shizuo had to guess. He’d really rather not push Izaya into touching something he’s not ready to, especially right before he goes to risk his life.
Izaya doesn’t seem to care about any of this. The usual armor of steel and jaded amusement comes back around him like a shroud. “And why shouldn’t I? They’re not coming back.”
He says it like he’s daring Shizuo to disagree with him. Shizuo really wishes that also having dead parents would give him some idea of what he’s supposed to say here.
Just before the silence can draw out too long, he blurts the first thing that comes to mind. “You want help?”
Izaya blinks like Shizuo’s just gone off-script, but since most of Izaya’s scripts are cruel or at the very least antagonistic, that’s probably a good thing. The ghost of bitterness fades off of him and he considers Shizuo for a long moment.
“Sure,” is all he says, but that little bemused smile is back and Shizuo feels like he’s won something. Nobody else makes Izaya smile like this.
The moment is interrupted by the thundering of little feet, and Shizuo sees Mairu in a cat hoodie in just enough time to catch her as she crashes into his legs.
“Shizu-chan!” she cheers, reaching up to be carried. Kururi makes a more sedate approach, drifting as far as Izaya’s leg and latching onto it.
“Hi there,” Shizuo says, avoiding names in case he’s wrong again. With a glance at Izaya for permission, he scoops her up and holds her only sort of awkwardly. “It’s been a long time. You still remember me?”
Two weeks and some change is basically forever for a five-year-old.
“Iza-nii tells us about you,” Mairu says. “Did you beat up any bad guys today?”
Shizuo raises an eyebrow at Izaya, who meets him with a carefully blank expression.
“No, I wanted to come see you,” he says instead of asking Izaya what the hell he’s been telling his sisters about. “I’m gonna spend all weekend with you. Did Iza-nii tell you about that?”
Mairu nods vigorously. “You’re gonna give us dinos all day.”
“Once a day,” Izaya corrects. “If you’re good. If you’re bad, he’ll send you to bed without dinner and you’ll have to eat your sister.”
“Noooo,” Mairu whines, kicking her feet vigorously. Shizuo shifts his grip to something more secure—he’s held people much larger than her while they’ve struggled much harder, but he would never forgive himself if she actually managed to squirm out of his hold and fall.
“What do I actually do if they’re not behaving?” Shizuo asks, since he’s pretty sure Izaya will kill and eat him if he starves the girls.
“What do we do when you’re bad? Do you want to tell Shizu-chan?” Izaya asks Mairu, who shakes her head vigorously.
“No I don’t want it!” she exclaims, wriggling.
“Be good for Shizu-chan and he won’t need it. Come here,” Izaya gestures to Shizuo. “You can put her down whenever, by the way. She’ll whine, but they don’t need to be held all the time.”
He has to raise his voice to be heard over Mairu’s protests, and Mairu has latched on to Shizuo with all four limbs and might be biting his shirt for extra security.
“I can carry her,” Shizuo decides on the path of least resistance. She weighs basically nothing in any case.
Mairu’s struggles immediately subside, and she makes a cooing noise of delight.
“Words, Mairu,” Izaya says without turning around. He leads Shizuo to the living room, where several toys and books have been laid out and a stack of DVDs is set next to the TV.
Mairu sticks her tongue out at Izaya, which he ignores.
“This is The Hat,” Izaya says, pulling a red knitted beanie out of a black box. “We have two of them. If they’re not listening to you, they have to wear The Hat until they apologize.”
Mauri and Kururi both glare poisonously at The Hat.
“…that’s it?” Shizuo asks. He was imagining something a little…stricter, maybe. Or at least a time-out for them to cool down and think about things.
Izaya nods. “The Hat will do. They hate it.”
That much at least seems to be true. Mairu and Kururi have lasered their focus into a burning hatred for The Hat.
“If they try to set it on fire or hide it, tell me about it when I get back and they won’t get a bedtime story.” Izaya puts The Hat back in its box. “If you get to a point of desperation, you can separate them for up to five minutes. I wouldn’t suggest any longer than that; they’ll be unbearable for the rest of the day.”
“Iza-nii, NO!” Mairu starts trying to worm her way out of Shizuo’s hold, and he sets her down before she can hurt herself. She runs to Izaya and Kururi and tugs on Izaya’s shirt. “We’ll be good! We’ll be SO good, we like Shizu-chan!”
Kururi latches on to her twin and they give imploring looks to Izaya.
“If you behave, you have nothing to worry about,” he tells them. “If you want to reward them, you can give them chocolate chips from the freezer or let them slide on the hardwood in their fuzzy socks. It’s their own responsibility if they split their heads open, though.”
“Skating rink,” Kururi says.
“YEAH we should set up the skating rink!” Mairu cheers.
“They mean moving the dining room table and taking out the rug. You don’t have to do that. There’s plenty of space in the halls.” Izaya says. “We can have a skating rink when I get back if Shizuo tells me you’ve been good for him.”
This is really nothing like being responsible for Kasuka.
“We made a schedule for them to follow. They can read it; you can remind them to follow the schedule if they’re getting out of hand.” Izaya procures a piece of paper from somewhere in the kitchen, and Shizuo follows him in. He doesn’t seem hindered by the little girls clinging to his legs, barely acknowledging them beyond straightening the handkerchief in Mairu’s hair with one hand.
The paper Izaya hands over was clearly a group effort, with neatly scrawled frowny faces with bored written under them in Izaya’s handwriting on one side, next to childish, blocky hiragana characters on the other.
Beside each bored is some sort of activity. Finger painting, brushing teeth, cleaning up, watching TV. There are clumsy illustrations of each activity next to the corresponding words. Bored + night instructs them to go to bed, bored + Shizu-chan (with a doodle of a scowling face wearing sunglasses) has reading and play. Meals, designated with a drawing of a fridge, are interspersed between each activity like they actually correspond to times of the day.
“You don’t actually have to read to them, of course,” Izaya says as Shizuo is taking in the schedule. “They can be quite low maintenance for a few days. If you’d prefer, you barely have to spend time on them at all.”
His fingers have found their way to the girls’ shoulders, pressing into them, and it occurs to Shizuo that Izaya is anxious. The twins, picking up on their guardian’s tension, are looking at him with big, somber eyes.
“What—no, of course I can read to them,” he protests. “It’s not a problem. I don’t even have work this weekend, we’ll have plenty of time to do whatever. I can take them to the park or anything they usually do, too.”
This has the effect of making Izaya’s face differently tense, at least not freefall-terrified. “They’ve never left the house without me. They’d run as soon as you turned your back on one of them.”
“I think I can handle an escaping…how old are they? Six?” Shizuo asks.
“Five,” Kururi mumbles to Izaya’s thigh. Mairu stays quiet, watching the conversation between Shizuo and Izaya with startling attention.
“Thank you, Kururi. They’re five.” Izaya says. “And they’re precocious. Better not to risk it.”
“Okay.” Shizuo privately thinks that he could probably manage bringing even very precocious five-year-olds to a local park, but he’s trying to reassure Izaya here, not stress him out. “I can at least read to them and play with them. I owe you for tutoring, remember?”
This seems to relax Izaya more than anything. Shizuo kind of hates that Izaya has to think of it as a deal, like this is somehow on par with info brokering with the yakuza, but at least he has a smirk tugging at his mouth again, more self-assured teenaged bullshit than agonizing insecurity.
“That’s right. Given how I’ve raised Kasuka’s grades, I expect some top-tier mothering if you ever want to begin to get out of debt with me.” The tilt of his head takes any barbs out of the words, inviting Shizuo into an inside joke rather than poking fun at him. Shizuo feels an answering smile come naturally.
“I’ve never been a mom before, but I bet I can figure it out on the job.” It feels awkward to fit his words into a responding joke—Shizuo isn’t one for banter—but it makes Izaya’s eyes sparkle while Mairu asks if Shizuo is their mom now and Izaya gently mocks her for not knowing what a mom is. That light doesn’t quite go away even when Izaya has to leave, taking a dark duffle bag with him and promising to be safe with a laugh and a joke like it doesn’t matter.
Shizuo’s hands curl to hold on to him, but he has to let him go.