The rain was heavy, the wind blew strong and the cold was enough to catch anyone unprepared in early summer. Hundreds of colourful umbrellas decorated the streets, for life in Tokyo couldn’t just stop simply because the rainy season had started. And this year the rainy days were apparently in a very tight competition against the sunny days. Middle June saw the sudden and strong start of rains and storms, and now it was the beginning of July and still no rest; water just kept pouring from the sky as if trying to overflow the whole city.
And on that particular day, it just seemed like that. Umbrellas were being torn by the wind, people were running down the streets soppy, soaked and trembling, and the traffic was almost at a halt. Cars honked and drivers would curse at each other. It was chaos in Ikebukuro’s main streets, where a big parcel of the population was concentrated at that time, almost seven in the evening, trying to get to their homes and just dry themselves.
Shizuo was also running. But he wasn’t on the main streets, and he wasn’t running to his cheap apartment to escape the rain like most were. In fact, the rain was the least of his concerns at the moment. He could barely feel it, let alone even realise it was there, pouring with such fierceness and making his hair stick to his forehead.
No. At that moment, the only thing Shizuo cared about, the only thing he could see, was the bastard flea running away from him, trying to squirm his way through dirty and empty alleys to make Shizuo lose sight of him, as he always did whenever the two of them would meet by accident in Ikebukuro. But not this time.
This time, Shizuo was particularly confident that he would finally catch the insect. He had immediately started seeing red and screaming when he suddenly and coincidentally saw the smaller man, shrunken to a corner in some backstreet and talking on his cell phone, initially ignorant of the monster near him, but soon caught by surprise by the thunderous reception Shizuo had thrown at him with a street sign tossed at his direction. And then they were at it again, as always.
Izaya was wearing black as usual. He seemed so small and thin that Shizuo thought the wind would just blow him away. But fleas were persistent, as it seemed. Izaya ran and ran like he always did, only this time, because of the heavy rain, he was being more careful as to not hurt himself when he tried jumping from building to building. In fact, Shizuo was certain that the rain was doing much damage to his runaway plan. He couldn’t see right, he couldn’t run as fast as he normally would, he couldn’t make bold moves jumping around. And to his delight, Shizuo thought that it wasn’t so bad for him.
He felt himself getting closer and closer to the little shit. He was running non-stop, he could only see that black smoke in front of him and nothing else in the world existed, nothing else mattered except to catch him and kill him. Kill him for all he had done, kill him for the insect he was, kill him and eliminate this plague from his life, this constant rage and hate that seemed to guide him.
Yes, killing Izaya would make everything alright again, for Izaya, and only Izaya, was guilty of all the bad things that had happened to Shizuo. The morality of the act didn’t matter anymore. Nor did the brutality of what he was about to do or the consequences. Mairu and Kururi didn’t exist for that moment, so no one would be upset if Izaya was gone. It would be for the best.
And so he ran in silence, eyes focused on his prey, a rhythmic breathing to match his steps, not an ounce of hesitation on his mind.
Izaya had probably sensed the danger. He had made no provocations or insults, he hadn’t dared look back, he had his switchblade in hand but was not confronting Shizuo. It was clear that he had considered his current situation as a lost battle and was just running for his life. A coward, obviously. He was just running as fast as he could, trying to mislead his predator, not realising he was only succeeding at cornering himself at each turn. Shizuo felt a wide smile spread in his face and started laughing out loud. He was sure he would win. Izaya heard him despite the rain. That was how close they were. The flea looked back for the first time since they had started, probably out of surprise for having heard Shizuo’s maniac laugh, but one second later and he was making even more effort to distance himself, to find a way to disappear.
But not this time. Shizuo wouldn’t let him. He wasn’t tired. He couldn’t feel tired now that his body was so pumped up with adrenaline to last enough to catch the bastard and beat him to a bloody pulp. And when Izaya turned a corner and found himself in a dead alley, Shizuo ran even faster. The flea didn’t stop either, for he couldn’t. He knew that stopping meant dying. He ran until there was no more forward room for him to run, then jumped the wall in front of him and started climbing. But Shizuo was faster. He jumped higher and managed to grab Izaya’s ankle, knocking him down, pulling so hard he suspected Izaya must have scratched and broken a few fingernails previously sunk in the wall.
And now they were both falling, and one second later, they were sprawled on the wet ground, and it seemed they would drown themselves in the pouring rain. But Shizuo needed to recognise that although he was a coward, Izaya was still fighting. The flea grunted and immediately got up on stumbling feet, trying to run again, but after conquering so much, Shizuo wouldn’t just let him be. So he got up as well, charging himself at Izaya, effectively catching him for the first time ever, pinning him hard against the wall, hearing his back collide with the concrete. He didn’t give time for the man to speak or react, immediately wrapping his hand around the frail neck and pushing the flea’s head against the wall until he heard a cracking sound, and he began to choke him.
Izaya fought. He kicked even though his whole body was being smashed between Shizuo’s body and the wall, he punched with his free hand and tried to stab Shizuo with his switchblade in his other hand. All of that useless, of course. It was the end for him.
Shizuo grabbed the wrist holding the switchblade and smashed it against the wall as well, pressing the smaller body even further into the hard concrete. When he heard a pitiful choking sound coming from Izaya, he released his hold just enough so the other man could find room to inhale minimum air quantity and could open his eyes. And he saw them – those dark and dangerous orbits, so red and deep and for the first time truly scared, looking at him desperately, showing anger, confusion, and yes, fear. His pupils were dilated, he was soaked to the bone, trembling and shaking all over, though Shizuo didn’t know if it was because of the cold or because of the choking. It didn’t matter anyway.
“I guess this is goodbye then.” He said, in a low and ominous voice, looking deep in those beautiful frightened eyes, waiting for the moment when Izaya realised he would finally get what he deserved and lose it all, waiting for all the relieve and the joy he would finally be able to relish in when he ended that man’s life.
In a second, he was choking the flea again, waiting for that anticipated pleasurable moment. His smile had disappeared, for he was completely focused on his current task. Izaya never stopped fighting, not even when his head was collided a second time against the concrete wall, not even when Shizuo strengthened his hold on his wrist and neck. Izaya closed his eyes and fought against the rain, the desperation, death, the lack of air and Shizuo, all to no avail. Shizuo could have just snapped his neck, as easily as killing a flea, but that would be over too quickly. He wanted to see the light leaving Izaya’s eyes, he wanted the man to be looking at him when his final moments came, he wanted Izaya to suffer a little.
Soon Izaya’s lips were turning blue, and again, Shizuo didn’t know if it was because of the cold or the lack of air. Maybe both. At this stage, he stopped fighting, not because he had given up, but because he didn’t have the strength anymore. His body started losing life, until the hand grabbing Shizuo’s arm fell beside the flea’s body, and Shizuo finally waited for the smile, the relief and the victory to invade his system upon finally having killed his worst enemy.
Except he didn’t feel any of that. He didn’t smile when Izaya choked one last time before his body became lifeless, he didn’t feel anything remotely related to pleasure or joy as he watched the death of a person he hated. The only thing that suddenly and completely invaded his mind as Izaya was dying was that he had become a murderer. That he, with his own hands, had taken a life, had done the very last thing he ever wanted to do with his cursed strength, the only thing with which he had fought against for years and years. As he slowly realised the weight of his actions, his eyes widened in surprise and terror of what he had just done, and his hand moved by its own, releasing the tight grip around Izaya’s neck, now red from the aggression.
And immediately after he released the pressure killing his enemy, he heard the most desperate sound he had ever heard anyone emit. Izaya suddenly inhaled the air as if…well, as if his life depended on it. He inhaled it so deeply and violently that it hurt just to see it, inhaled it as if it was his last chance of surviving, while his chest burned and he remembered what it was like to breathe again. He coughed and gasped, his eyes closed, his mouth open, trying to get as much air as possible, his chest rising and falling so rapidly that the strength still hadn’t returned to his body, and Shizuo watched him fascinated and horrified while the flea fought to breathe, holding his body up so he wouldn’t fall.
For a moment, Shizuo forgot a storm was falling on them. He only had eyes for Izaya and how desperately he was trying to breathe, how he had truly almost died just seconds ago, by Shizuo’s own hands. When Izaya felt the strength returning to him, he dared open his eyes, breathing heavily while he and Shizuo stared at each other in complete confusion. Shizuo could feel the flea’s heart beating so fast he was surprised it hadn’t jumped to Izaya’s mouth. And only then he noticed a thin red string running down Izaya’s neck. Blood. From when I pushed his head against the wall. And he was back at looking in Izaya’s eyes, and how his pupils were so dilated he couldn’t even see the red of his irises anymore. Izaya’s breathing was slowly returning to normal, and Shizuo didn’t know why he had stood there this whole time. Why hadn’t he just run off? He still couldn’t believe he had almost killed another human being, even though it was Izaya. He thought he wanted that; he thought he wanted to see him suffer, agonize in pain and die. He thought it would be the end of his problems.
But he couldn’t do it. In the last moment, he backed off. He couldn’t handle the weight. He didn’t feel happiness while he saw Izaya’s life being drained off of him. He had felt heavy, dirty, evil. He hadn’t felt satisfaction, only a sense of emptiness. He realised he had taken life for granted. His life, Izaya’s life, life in general. And he was now feeling horrified, disgusted at himself.
And he must have lost track of time. Now the red was again visible in Izaya’s eyes, and the man seemed conscious enough that he foolishly tried to fight back. Catching Shizuo by surprise, Izaya freed his hand pinned to the wall, trying to stab Shizuo in the face with his switchblade, grunting as loud as his damaged voice permitted. And when Shizuo suddenly felt the attack and tried to stop it, Izaya kicked him in between the legs to free himself from Shizuo’s hold. But it was such a weak kick and he was still so shaky after having nearly been choked to death that he didn’t make it very far. Before he lost balance and fell to the ground, Shizuo’s body moved on its own again, grabbing Izaya’s arm as if trying to help him. Help him? Why would Shizuo do that?
Izaya, however, mistook Shizuo’s strange act of help for another attack, and tried to fight back again. He kicked and punched, trying to free himself from the monster of Ikebukuro, but Shizuo didn’t let go.
“Hey!” He tried to speak to him, but Izaya wasn’t listening. Shizuo didn’t know what to say after ‘hey’, however. What could you say to someone whom you had just tried to kill and then helped for apparently no reason? But he persisted. “Hey! Izaya!” And it felt like he had said his enemy’s name for the first time. And he pressed Izaya’s body against the wall again, trying to restrict the man’s movements, trying to stop him from frantically trying to attack. “Hey! Izaya!” He dragged those syllables out of his mouth as if it was the most important thing for him to say at that moment. But again, Izaya didn’t listen. Maybe it was the rain, or maybe he was just too busy to listen to Shizuo. He certainly thought the monster of Ikebukuro would try to kill him again.
Seeing as he wasn’t succeeding on getting the man’s attention, Shizuo tried a more violent and direct approach. He used his right hand to grab Izaya by the chin and force him to stop squirming and just look at Shizuo’s face. But when he did that and Izaya’s face was locked in place, and he approached the man to speak, something very strange and unexpected suddenly happened. He didn’t know if he had come too close for comfort or if Izaya had moved his head forward, the only thing he knew was that one second later, their lips were touching and they were kissing.
The seconds before that act had seemed to go by in slow motion and complete silence, and now that they were connected, it all seemed to speed up again, ten times faster, and they were kissing violently; the rain was falling around and over them, noisy and heavy. For the third time in the last hour, his body had moved on its own, actions he couldn’t explain, at least not rationally. He had just wanted to talk to Izaya, but then they were kissing, and their tongues had met, and their teeth collided, and Izaya pulled him closer, and there was a hand at the back of his head, and his own hands were at Izaya’s waist, embracing him in a tight hug, and even in the cold storm, his body felt hot and he felt an urge, a desire he had never felt before. He didn’t know what it was, but it was consuming his whole body at the same speed of their kiss, like it was something he had always wanted to do. He felt his lip being bitten, he let it happen, for it felt good. He pressed Izaya’s body against the wall, not knowing exactly what he was doing, but knowing exactly what he wanted to do.
When Izaya broke the kiss, he was breathing heavily again, just like minutes ago, and Shizuo allowed him to grasp some much needed air, without ever letting him go, moving his lips down to his enemy’s red and bruised neck, kissing and licking as it seemed the most natural thing to do at that moment. And Izaya never pushed him away, but ran his hand all over blonde hair while he bent his neck and soon Shizuo was feeling even hotter and there was a heat in his stomach, and a lust so powerful he felt he wouldn’t be able to control himself this time. His fast-working mind couldn’t find a rational explanation in such a short period of time, so he stopped looking for one. He just followed his body’s instincts.
He could hear Izaya’s desperate breathing, he could feel the taste of his skin and his own lust calling for specific attitudes. Before realising, he was unfastening his belt and pulling his hard cock out, fumbling with his other hand to do the same with Izaya’s pants, pulling them down enough so he could put himself in between and slide his cock inside of his enemy’s body. And not once, not once did Izaya push him away, he was sure of that, and when the smaller man actually pulled him forward, he became even more confident in what he was doing. Izaya’s thighs were soaked in rain water, as was his entrance when Shizuo pressed the tip of his cock against it, and Izaya whined in pain as he felt his insides being stretched, and a pressure so overwhelming he thought he might pass out. He pulled Shizuo forward, grabbing the bartender’s outfit for dear life with one hand as the other grabbed Shizuo’s hair and pulled his face closer. Feeling he was about to scream in pain, Izaya found exposed skin in Shizuo’s neck and bit it hard, screaming while Shizuo pushed himself inside of him, agonizingly slow.
It hurt. It hurt so much. But he didn’t want that to stop. His was frenetically searching for an explanation, ever since he had regained consciousness after Shizuo gave up on killing him, but he could find nothing. For the first time in his entire life, his mind was failing him. He was acting on instincts only, his logic completely broken, his reason long forgotten while he willingly accepted the ache and pain Shizuo was putting him through. He clung to his enemy for dear life, biting Shizuo’s neck to muffle his scream of pain while his insides were being torn apart and his legs quivered and he felt he would lose his senses to the pain and the overwhelming desire overtaking his body.
And after what felt like centuries, Shizuo was completely inside of him, and he felt the taste of monster’s blood, but he never stopped biting the bartender’s neck and his cries of pain still hadn’t vanished. He didn’t dare look at the monster of Ikebukuro, he didn’t dare move. It hurt too much; it hurt to breathe, it hurt to swallow, it hurt to scream, it hurt to bite, it hurt to grab Shizuo’s clothes, it hurt to have Shizuo inside of him, it hurt just to stand there. And then he felt fear for the second time that day; fear that Shizuo would simply tear him apart, would kill him slowly and painfully, would rip his insides until he was satisfied and leave him there to die, bleeding, cold, alone. What better punishment for someone like him?
But he waited and waited, his breathing shallow, his tense body screaming at him. And Shizuo stood still, and he could feel the rain freezing him to the bone, sliding down his naked skin and touching him where Shizuo’s cock had first touched him. And then he slowly released his bloody teeth from Shizuo’s skin and just concentrated on breathing and accepting that pain, that new and overwhelming sensation.
And Shizuo waited. He felt Izaya’s body twitch and squirm when he pushed himself inside, yet he didn’t stop, not when Izaya was accepting him, and he in turn accepted the bite and the muffled scream at his neck, and slowly inserted himself inside of the informant. Izaya was tight and hot, and he felt himself melting inside him, even with the cold rain falling non-stop. And when he was completely inside, he stopped dead on his tracks, and the last rational part of his mind yelled at him like an angry mother would scold a naughty child, ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ and he simply had no answer for that, for it felt too good inside of Izaya and he just wanted to hold him and fuck him. But he waited. He didn’t care for Izaya, he hated him, wanted him dead a few minutes ago, yet he waited for the man to stop screaming in pain, he waited until Izaya’s breathing had returned to normal and his body had stopped trembling. It seemed important to wait. It seemed very important to wait until Izaya was comfortable enough. And before the last rational part of his mind could make him stop that, he felt Izaya’s hand twirling his hair, and he sighed and started moving inside of him.
The first thing he heard from Izaya was a pained cry, but the informant’s hand kept caressing his hair like no one else had done before, so he continued. He moved up and down inside of Izaya, slowly first, testing the waters, trying to truly feel the other man, relishing that new sensation, that newfound dangerous pleasure. And before he knew, he was lost.
His pacing increased. He could hear the rain loud enough, but he could also hear the sound of his thrusts, and the way the concrete wall scratched Izaya’s back, and his own moans and sighs while he allowed himself to relish in that feeling. His hands were soon supporting Izaya’s thighs while he thrusted inside him, faster and harder each time, and at that point the last rational part of his mind had already died, along with any sense of reason. He could only feel Izaya.
He felt he was losing his mind very quickly. He wouldn’t last much longer. Izaya’s insides devoured him, painfully and desperately, and he would succumb in no time. And when he heard Izaya moaning for the first time, a breathy, hoarse, loud and dragged moan, carrying in it what he assumed could only be raw pleasure, he unintentionally intensified his thrusts, and when he heard the informant moaning for the second time, he finally came inside of Izaya, and he felt his cum, hot and sticky, and moaned like it was the best feeling he had ever felt, which he was sure it was. And a second later, he felt Izaya coming as well, a third moan escaping from his lips as his body went numb and Shizuo supported him so he wouldn’t fall.
They were breathing heavily, not wanting to think about what they had just done, not wanting to face their actions and the feared consequences. So they remained still, and the rain was finally retreating, like it had been waiting for them. Izaya didn’t let go of Shizuo’s hair and outfit, and Shizuo didn’t let go of Izaya’s body. When their breathing calmed down and they were both completely in control of themselves again, Izaya released Shizuo’s hair, running his hand through the blonde’s neck and shoulder, silently asking him to back away, to give him some space. Shizuo did as he was silently told, carefully releasing him, watching as his shaky legs tried to balance his body on the ground, and soon Izaya was fumbling with his pants, pulling them up and covering his intimate parts while Shizuo did the same.
Then they both looked at each other in the eye, but none found courage to say anything. Eventually, Izaya turned around and started walking away, without a word or notable reaction. Shizuo watched him, noticing the way he seemed to limp and the way he had to support his weight by touching the wall until he was out of the alley. He could see several strings of blood running down the back of his neck, and felt a twinge of guilt.
Even after Izaya had turned the corner and disappeared from his sight, he remained in that same position for what felt like hours. He just couldn’t find the will to move. Everything he had believed so far, everything he thought he wanted so far, everything regarding what he knew towards Orihara Izaya, everything was lost after that. The only thing he could think about was how Izaya’s body had accepted him, and how good it had felt hearing him moan in pleasure.
And then, as he finally decided to start walking towards his house, a much more realistic thought crossed his mind: what had that all meant, and what would happen with them both from now on?
And for the first time in his life, he felt fear.