Grief

Guilt

(Hey so uh, there are some mentions of gore in this so I thought I'd give a heads up.)

((Shizuo's POV))

I can still remember that night so vividly.

His usual insulting grin that led to yet another one of our usual chases.

The sound of pounding footsteps and the screech of torn metal.

The rush of adrenaline when I threw that last projectile towards him, confident that I'd finally landed my mark.

But I missed.

It all happened in a blur, the chase seemed to drag on longer than usual. Looking back at it, Izaya's movements seemed slower but in my state of fury, I didn't question a thing. Still, even if he was slower than usual, he always managed to dodge at the last second, just to mock me by giving me that glimmer of hope that it would finally land its mark.

He dodged this one too, so why?

I hadn't noticed that we had stumbled our way into a construction site during our quarrel. But when I threw that last metal beam towards him, Izaya, per usual, seamlessly slipped out of reach.

Instead, the metal collided with one of the structures' support beams.

I remember how Izaya's eyes danced, his pupils dilating when he glanced towards the torn ceiling above us. Everything felt so numbingly silent during that split second. Watching as the roof above us crumbled as soon as cracks covered its surface.

I can still hear that sickening crack and his choked-out cry.

The whole upper floor had collapsed on the two of us. I had managed to shove my way through the rubble, ignoring the many injuries that decorated my body that felt like nothing more than a dull ache. I trudged through dust and rubble as I focused on where I had heard the sound. I lifted a large cement block that had fallen, large metal rods sticking out and twisting as I pulled. With one hand, I used my force to roll the boulder to the side.

My jaw tightened when I saw blood seep out of his body. I'd always wished to kill him but when I watched Izaya's body lay limp and covered in gore, I knew this way of death had been too cruel for anybody to suffer.

His once lean figure had been smashed against the rock, twisting in unnatural ways as he lay flatly pressed against the ground. His shoulder blade was embellished with leaking blood, all of which flowed from a metal rod that still lay implanted in his flesh. The only thing that left him recognizable was his tattered trademark jacket and his smooth face, which had managed to neatly dodge the blow his body had succumbed to.

His features were still porcelain white, eyes open with sable thick lashes casting a shadow that seemed to contrast against his pale face. There was such a mockingly beautiful way in how his eyes and blood seemed to suit each other. At that moment the sun was bleak and starting to set, that red hue reflecting onto his auburn eyes in an almost mocking tone.

I had never seen his eyes glow such a deep devilish red as in that moment.

I sank to my knees at the sight of his limp form. A hollow and quiet laugh was forced out as I leaned into him, his blood painting my clothing as I realized what had truly happened. I bit my lip, breaking skin and leaving a small trail to drip down and mix with his blood.

"Come on Izaya, this isn't funny." My throat was itchy as I rasped out another dreadful laugh. My hands fell to his shoulder, I ignored how the red seemed to stain my hands and seep deep under my fingernails.

This all had to be some sort of sick joke. The damn flea could never die, it was below him. My jaw worked in waves, tightening and untightening as I forced down a swallow. This had to be just another one of Izaya's mind games, another one of his sadistic plans to observe his "beloved humans."

Right?

"Right.." The word felt like less than a whisper, a wavering smile tilted on my lips. I knew I had to confirm my questions, nobody else would agree with me. Because I knew as I stared down at contrasting hues of pale skin, black clothing, and a violent red that there wouldn't be a response. There would be no maniacal laughter and a voice that quipped off the tongue with velvet mockery.

All I could do was gape at him. He had once seemed like this otherworldly being, a snake who could wiggle his way out of any predicament with an appalling sense of ease. Yet when I looked at him now, I could see just how human Izaya was.

Even if Izaya had been an openly despised being by most, he still had a life and a will, and yet I had severed his tie to this earth.

I had finally managed to kill Izaya Orihara.

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It was another one of those nights. Those nights you hear in poetry about endless nightmares and an underlying fear of sleeping. The type of nights where you lay awake in bed for hours staring at a ceiling that looked all too recognizable by this point.

Ever since that happened a few months ago, I've had trouble sleeping. I usually get around three to four hours before I wake up in a cold sweat. The dreams my mind would conjure were nothing creative or poetic in the lease. They were simple glimpses of when things were similar, memories of cat and dog chases that would always end with the taunting realization that I knew he'd be back in Ikebukuro again.

He wouldn't.

I let out a gruff sigh and sat up, at this point, my ceiling hadn't become much to gawk at. I glanced over towards my door which was cracked open, dim golden light seeping through. My brow arched as I saw the light, I couldn't remember leaving any lights on before I went to sleep, but in all honesty, I was too tired to care.

I trudged my way out of my bedroom and into my small bathroom while idly scratching my neck. Light seeped through a small window as the sun began rising, the time had to still be around four in the morning.

Giving a glance over towards myself, it didn't take long for me to recognize the sorry state I was in. There were prominent bags under my eyes along with a constant frown that no longer had the dangerous edge my normal expression was famous for.

"The hell?" My focus was interrupted when my bathroom light flickered on with a pitiful sense of struggle. I let out a defeated sigh, my lights had been glitching as of late and I was growing tired of it quite quickly. I had tried checking the breaker, along with changing light bulbs. Hell, I'd even tried contacting my billing company and apartment complex about the issue of course neither of them did shit. Saying that they could see nothing wrong with it.

Like hell nothing was wrong! My lights kept flickering and I'd rather not have to deal with the extra money it's going to cost on the electricity bill!

I rubbed my temples as a familiar headache began to form due to the abrupt change in lighting. Grumbling with every step, I made my way out of my bathroom, turning the lights off as I left, and made my way back towards my room to get dressed for the day.

I was quick to dress in my usual attire, a bartender suit that Kasuka had gifted me. At this point, I was moving on muscle memory when I'd get ready in the morning, and I wasn't really complaining.

I took a slow bee-line towards my kitchen and made myself a quick cup of coffee. I had always preferred the sweeter-tasting foods so I wasn't hesitant to dump in a generous amount of sugar.

Everything was just like every other morning, bittersweet coffee, constant complaints, and tired eyes hidden behind blue-tinted glasses. After another hour had passed of sitting around the sun finally rose and I headed out the door towards my daily hours of work.

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((Feelin' edgy with this one. I am excited to feel thy emotions while writing this story. Honestly at this point writing these Shizaya fics has just become a guilty pleasure because I know not many people read about this ship nowadays. Still love em so imma do it anyway :)

ps- if you see any grammar mistakes, feel free to correct me. Also no, this is not a one-shot, the story will continue.