Grief

Strange

His laughter trickled out in a natural sort of way and if I ignored the familiar irritation pricking at the back of my mind- I could almost find the sound comforting. The air settled into something stagnant as his laughter stopped- I didn't dare break that fragile silence.

Izaya dared.

"Thinking back, you really did have a lot of jobs, huh?" That familiar plastered smirk was on Izaya's face, his expression faking on 'naively thoughtful' as he tapped a finger on his chin.

"Yeah, kind of need a job to survive and all," I muttered back, grumbling about the flea's job and the joys of being rich under my breath after I spoke. Izaya waved his wrist, shooing the idea away as he sunk deeper to rest in the chair, though I couldn't help but notice the few parts of his body that would actually phase entirely through-

But that was beside the point.

"I suppose with your dastardly strength you were lucky to even find a job as a glorified Doberman." I frowned, watching as his shoulders shrugged and he shook his head with pity. There was that sting of annoyance, something simmering at the back of my mind like a constant buzz at his insults, but I couldn't help but be surprised with my lack of complete irritation at the situation.

A trickle of pride washed over me at the realization. That over the time Izaya had been living here, I had learned to yield my anger towards his biting words better than I ever was capable. Though now that I think about it, besides the bickering and insults that would piss me off-

Izaya hasn't done much.

I blinked, wine-soaked eyes staring back. Tilting my head in confusion, his brow quirked up and his smile went wry with amused confusion. Clearing my throat, I tried to dispel the strange moment in favor of grunting out a half-assed response to his argument like the flea had probably been expecting.

"Like you have any room to judge on job picking, flea," I grunted, but the punch behind the words fell short- I don't think either of us minded all that much...

At least I didn't.

Izaya's smirk grew amused and he giggled, "This is strange isn't it?"

"What's strange?"

"Everything, I mean look at us-" His hands flickered to point between the two of us, "Think about it, one moment we are infamous enemies the city has learned to fear, next thing were having a conversation on your couch at four in the morning and not a single thing has been broken!" He paused for dramatics, "Honestly it's nothing short of blasphemy!"

I gave a shrug, fingers twiddling together with themselves in favor of ruining the sweatpants I had been gripping earlier- and even though I wasn't as tense anymore, It didn't take being tense for me to easily rip or break things.

"Blasphemy- really?" I was far from impressed with his dramatics, though I couldn't completely disagree with the flea- He was right, this was an entirely strange scenario, especially when he compares it to what we used to be like.

"My my Shizu-chan, I'm impressed! Knowing such a big word is commendable."

My head sunk in, an aggravated sigh weighing heavy on my lips as my mood immediately soured. Even if the scenario was strange, it didn't change the fact this was still Izaya.

Izaya...

I peeked over towards the ghost, who was indulging in a small fit of chuckles at his own joke. Right...he's still Izaya-

The Izaya I've hated since high school, the man who got me arrested, fired, and was responsible for most of the insane shit that happened in Ikebukuro. Not to mention the debt that comes with all that property damage...