The Happiest of Man

Chapter 7

Picking at the piece of meat that Namie had prepared, he noticed that he was having a hard time grabbing a hold of it with his chopsticks. Luckily, the woman sitting in front of him didn’t pay him any mind at this point. It was safe to assume that she was no longer taking him seriously because of his supposed “antics” that he was pulling.

“There is something called ‘table manners’. I’m sure you have heard of it.”

“Depending on the culture, that’s rather subjective, wouldn’t you agree?” Izaya placed the piece of meat into his bowl of rice as he decided to grab at something else with his chopsticks. This time, he was successful in placing vegetables into his bowl unlike the first time with the piece of meat. He sat there, somewhat dumbfounded as he appeared slightly troubled by what he has suddenly discovered. Frustration began to overwhelm him. It was like someone was ripping the control he had over his body away from him and that cause something to blink red in the corner of his mind.

Before he gave Namie a chance to speak, he smiled as he quickly dismissed himself.

“Looks like I’m not as hungry as I thought. Thanks for the meal, however.”

He appeared confident on the outside, however he was suffocating himself in numerous questions as his legs led him straight to his bedroom. After switching the lights on, he shut the door as he sat himself down on the bed, then fell backward. Staring up at the ceiling, he began to wonder what was going on with his body. Maybe he was overreacting? But, Izaya Orihara never overreacted.

“I’ll just visit a doctor.” Reassuring himself of that thought, he tried to smile.

“Of course, it can’t be in Ikebukuro or even around here.”

The small smile suddenly fell as he looked at his slender fingers. Curling his fingers and straightening them out, he wondered whether “karma” existed. If he was experiencing this right now, it was because his bad deeds had accumulated to the point where the world had lost count altogether – it was a possibility. The thought was silly in itself, but anything is possible. 

Izaya was almost sure that somewhere in this universe, someone was laughing at him.

- -

Scheduling a doctor’s appointment was easy as well as arriving there in a composed manner. Izaya was an actor one could say. He wore different faces, fit himself into personalities that would never describe him as a whole just to fool others, and yet he hid who he really was behind all of those facades so well that it’s a wonder that he has not lost himself in the closet of his disguises.

If he felt troubled or even upset, it was almost hard to tell – or it could be the fact that the people around him did not care at all whether he was upset or not. They would usually chime to one another, ‘he deserves it’ and move on. In a world like this, he doubt there would be at least one person who thought highly of him aside from his brain-washed fangirls.

“Are these tests necessary?” Izaya had asked as he attempted to balance himself on one foot, but continued to fail miserably. Before that, he literally had to touch the index finger of the doctor as he held it up. It may seem simple and rather ridiculous, but even Izaya knew that if he kept missing his finger by just a couple of inches after being instructed that he had to do so in a faster pace, something was wrong.

For someone who mastered parkour, shouldn’t his hand-eye coordination be exceptional? 

He knew that he shouldn’t doubt a doctor, especially since they obviously earned their degree in a field like this, however he couldn’t help but wonder why an “examination” like this was not as elaborate as he thought it would be.

“Of course. This way, I can evaluate your performance. We’re going to take some x-rays of your brain. Is that all right?” 

“Sure.” The informant smiled professionally, but he became wary. 

X-rays . . . Is it really that serious?

- -

“So, how does it look?” 

After taking the x-rays, they were back in the doctor’s office where the male who was in his early thirties sat in front of his desk, thoughtful for a moment. Finally, he responded.

“You’ll be contacted in a few weeks. Once the time comes, we’ll discuss the results together.”