Grief

Crisis

((Shizuo's POV))

"Izaya?" There was a sharp, breathless pause that held in the air.

I couldn't believe my eyes...

Izaya was right there.

Izaya gave a slight tilt of his head before his lips barely opened, whispering a disbelieved, "Shizu-Chan?"

All I could do was stare, this had to be a hallucination right? The flea was dead! My eyes flickered around his figure as my confusion grew. There he stood, in the entryway of my door staring back at me with a slight-confused expression. But something was off. It looked like Izaya, sure, but there was this strange aura to him. Something black and smokey-like...

Almost otherworldly.

The longer I stared in disbelief, the more I'd take note of. You could just slightly see entirely through him, the hazy view of the hall that stretched behind him was still visible. A black smog seemed to curl around his neck and fester from one spot near his shoulder. The fog would curl off in waves at the end of his jacket as well, flickering with a sense of obscurity.

And his eyes, those were the most noticeable, they weren't that slight hue of red-brown everybody was so used to exaggerating into something demonic.

No, his eyes glowed like a bitter wine.

He looked like some sort of actual demon you read about in high-class literature.

What the hell?

My fists couldn't help but tighten with familiar rage at the sight of Izaya. I expected him to disappear in a flash, yet he wouldn't disappear like some fleeting trick of the eyes after I blink.

He just stood there, staring at me. How was this possible?

Hallucinating...

Right, I have to be hallucinating... I haven't gotten much sleep lately so it wasn't an unreasonable answer. Especially, I glanced at his fictitious appearance, if he looks like that.

"Shizu-Chan?" A wispy hand waved in front of my face. "Are you actually able to see me?"

My jaw tightened with a familiar grip, my "imagination" in some ironic way, had managed to remember everything about the pest perfectly. Down to the pretentiously confident way his voice would purr, to that annoying nickname he's insisted on calling me for years.

It was almost disturbing how much he looked real, In a fantastical sense of course. As I glared, a familiar rush of rage swarmed through my mind. Izaya's brow gave an arch and his mouth held an unimpressed slant, as he watched me.

A humor-less laugh quipped off his tongue.

"You see me for all but one second and suddenly you're all cured of your pathetic self-pity? How simple-minded."

"Huhh?" My voice was heavy with fatigue but still managed to growl out something threatening. As if it would do anything, this was the flea! Just one word out of that snarky mouth of his was enough to make me want to scream. Yell at him, throw anything I could get my hands on, destroy-

Izaya?

Right.

He was dead, this was a hallucination.

Don't be an idiot.

My gaze flickered downwards, with a sluggish haul I got up from my bed, fingers held tight in fists to keep my composure. I kept my watch focused on my feet, avoiding the obviously sick figure my mind had managed to conjure up.