Shizuo leaned against the door-frame, pulling a fresh cigarette from his pocket. As much as criticizing him had become second nature to me, I couldn't blame him, as every now and then I found myself taking a calming drag of nicotine as well. I by no means was a smoker, being the health nut I am, but even vices can sometimes have their virtues. Though I could elaborate more on the subject, I wouldn't, fearful that bringing up more of my past mistakes would be digging my hole much deeper than it already was. 

I was sat on the edge of my futon, obediently allowing Shinra to attend to my wounds. He had allowed me to slip back into my shirt after thoroughly disinfecting each wound that lay between my neck and waist. For now, he was attending to the various gashes that sat in groups down both of my legs. His touch was warm and familiar, like the smell of a childhood candle or meal, making the euphoria of it all penetrate my damaged skin like nails. 

"You really did yourself in this time huh?" Shinra sighed, bandaging my upper thigh. I couldn't tell what stung more; His words or the antibacterials seeping into my wounds. "I thought you'd said you were done acting like a spoiled child,"

Averting my eyes, I huffed, remembering exactly the moment I'd said that. Stupid stupid. When would I learn? I did these irresponsible impulsive things, forgetting that I wouldn't be the only one to remember them. I hadn't realized how much they would bite me in the ass in the future. "Yeah, well, words are cheap," I muttered, knowing how self deprecating my sentence had been.

Shinra moved down to the cuts on my ankle, gently blotting them with his sterile cotton balls. Wincing, I tried to pull my leg back onto the couch, failing only when his firm grip coaxed me back into place. I hated being treated like a child, and I especially hated the condescending eyes he gave me as he played with his medical supplies. With the goofy smile he wore on his face all the time, how was I suddenly the child? 

"You're doing it again Izaya," He giggled, "Acting like a child. If you're going to pout with such a look on your face, I'm never going to treat you any older than the you I'd met 12 years ago," I scoffed, angry that after all this time he could still read me like a book. It was annoying, earning him another look of disdain from me. 

"Just leave it alone. What's the point in small talk? You're only here to patch up my pathetic wounds, so just do it and leave," I shot back at him, only half meaning the harshness that stuck to my statement, "I don't like you here. I didn't call you, so don't try and act like everything is all fine and dandy. Stop pretending to care about anything that isn't Celty," My own words surprised me, not at all meaning to blurt them out. Shinra's eyes widened for a second, taken aback by confession. 

"So that's what this is about? You're still bitter over the inevitable huh? That's low even for you Izaya," He laughed, the sound reverberating through the room with no warmth, "I'd told you my terms when it all started. For you to hold a grudge against terms and conditions you'd agreed to is unfair, don't you think?"

Eavesdropping and sensing there was a hint of secrecy in our conversation, Shizuo butted in, taking a spot next to me on the couch and eying Shinra, who was sat on the floor. "What're you two going on about?" He questioned, looking between us suspiciously. Shinra and I shared a knowing look, wondering if Shizuo could even comprehend the words that were stuck in my throat; The truth.

Swallowing hard, I opened my mouth timidly, already feeling the knowing pang in my chest that personified the heartbreak that my former 16 year old self had endured. "Well," I started, mentally preparing myself for the onslaught of explanation that was sure to come from this revelation, "In high-school, Shinra and I dated for a year,"

Shizuo's mouth dropped open, agape and confused, pointing a finger between the two of us, he sputtered, "You two? No fucking way. No way,"

Letting out a monotone laugh, Shinra waved his hands in the air, "No no, it wasn't like that Shizuo. Izaya and I were never star-crossed lovers like the ones you may read about in the mangas. We were just convenient for each other," Shinra's words wounded the part of me I kept hidden, but I played along anyway, slowly nodding my head, "We were horny teen boys, both interested in the experimental. I deemed it inevitable that Izaya would someday come up to me and propose our little deal," 

Shizuo was dumbfounded, looking between us like the idiot he was. Shinra continued, noticing the apprehension radiating from the blond, "But it wasn't like you think Shizuo. It was not romantic in the slightest," The statement dug into my chest, piercing my heart with pins and needles, making the back of my eyes burn as unresolved emotions came flooding to the surface, "It was platonic sex. That's all. Our arrangement was that and that only. No feelings, no dates, no gushy stuff, just a friendly fuck a couple times a week. He'd never even kissed me you know. Part of our deal was that neither of our lips were to touch any area above the chin, but of course that was because I'm saving myself for my dear Celty~" He cooed.

His nonchalant attitude had been wounding me far deeper than the scrapes he was here to disinfect. I'd known from the beginning it was platonic, I'd known all of this and yet I'd let myself slip anyway. I was Izaya, and as much as I kept saying that over and over, it was becoming further and further from the truth. So many of my actions were coming to contradict my set of internal beliefs, I couldn't even reason with the person I was, the great info broker slowly slipping from my grasp.

I felt a tear fall down my cheek despite my best efforts to keep my dejection hidden. I wiped my face, acting as if an eyelash had attacked my eye. Even if I knew this lie wouldn't hide a thing, it was better than nothing. Shinra looked over at me, he was smarter than Shizuo by a large gap, knowing instantaneously what had upset me so much. Sighing in defeat, he finished wrapping my ankle, gathering his supplies once again to take his leave.

"Truly Shizuo, there is more to the whole matter, but I'm not in the position to explain it all to you," Shizuo's eyebrow lifted in perplexity, questioning not only Shinra's words but his motives as well, "Change his bandages daily, and make sure they're all sterilized properly. None of his wounds are serious, mostly because he knows how to evade any major arteries, but since he's got quite a bit of them, he's at a higher risk of infection," He handed Shizuo some creams and bandages, only stopping right before he was out my door, "Oh, and one more thing Shizuo, don't get involved with him unless you intend to stick around,"

Shinra gazed at me, spectacled eyes hidden behind a wall of coldness, a wall that had been set in place so that nobody could understand what he was feeling. I wanted to reach out to him, groveling at his feet, begging him to tell me why, why it was I felt like this even after all this time. His mere presence made me suicidal, the remembrance of all that had happened to my idiotic adolescent self almost too much to bear as his emotionless chocolate eyes read me cover to cover.  I wanted to open my mouth to say something, anything, but Shizuo had beaten me to it.

"What do you mean?" He asked, obviously confused by Shinra's words, just as I'd expect such a single-celled organism to be. 

Shinra smiled, a smile so riddled with past recollection it stunned me that it had showed itself on his face of all faces. "I mean exactly what I said Shizuo. Don't get involved with the life of Izaya Orihara unless you intend on staying. If you intend on hurting him, even a little bit, I'll make you regret it for the rest of your life. A line that I'll have you know was once used to avenge me by the broken man sitting right there," He motioned to me, knowing full well I had collected on that debt, making Nakura pay dearly for the scar he'd put on Shinra's fragile body.

Without another word out of either men, Shinra was gone, and I was left to inhabit the apartment with the blond monster once again. The silence was deadly, creating a heavy atmosphere as Shizuo took in all the words that hung in the air. I wouldn't have even blamed him if he were to short circuit. A protozoan had no hope in understanding all the conflicting details that had been shared. Not even I could comprehend them, even after nearly 8 years.

Finally feeling the true weight of all the emotional toil that had ravaged my body this afternoon, I laid my head to the side, hoping finally to get some decent sleep, knowing I couldn't possibly get much weaker. I felt my brain start to cool down, and before I knew it I had been cast away to dreamland, the only place where I'd wished I wouldn't have to deal with my problems.

Though I had hoped I'd find a utopia, I'd been sorely mistaken.

I'd found myself wandering through a desolate elementary school hallway. The familiar sting of babies crying battered my ear drums, making a wave of emotions crash over me. A small inky haired boy ran from one room to another as the sound of a telephone broke through the children's cries. 

I approached the room as the boy sat on his sanguine colored bedsheets, phone pressed to his ear with great importance. His small hands had gripped the phone so tightly his knuckles had turned white, his small body shaking. He exchanged small talk back and forth with the muddled feminine voice on the other line, before he blurted out a line all too commonplace for me to forget.

"Are you coming back soon?" He asked, body erupting in sobs when he was rejected the affirmation he'd so hoped for, "Why can't you come back?" His voice was drowning in emotion and begging for any semblance of love, aggravating the cold woman on the other line, "Did you ever even love me?" Sobs filled the room, his crying mixing with the ones coming from the infants next door. 

My heart hurt and my head spun. The boy hung the phone up, not even taking time to listen to the male voice that disciplined him for making his poor dear mother angry. He wasted no time in attending to the twin infants that wailed and screamed from their shared crib. They were identical, the only tell-tale differentiator being the onesies that he had carefully placed them into. The slightly chubbier girl wore one painted a dark emerald green, patterned with yellow cats, while the other girl wore a similar one which was washed in a sunshine yellow, littered with dark green dogs. I knew without a second look who the girls were, especially as the boy rocked them back and forth, promising them that he would protect them from the heartless woman who had abandoned them. He planted a kiss on each girl's forehead, muttering a oath of eternal love, even if he had hid it from them as they grew older.

The pain was starting to permeate even the thickest of my skin, drawing out all the hurt and sadness that had been locked away for those 14 years. Why was I dreaming about this moment? Why would I want to see this, the moment I'd hid my heart away the first time? 

Backing away, I bolted for the doors at the end of the decrepit hallway, soon finding myself upon another scene I didn't care to see.

Tears spilled from the teen's face, the absolute weakness in his voice surprising him more and more every time he cried out, "How could you say that? You were the only person that understood the me that I had hidden beneath this false exterior, you were the only one that could read exactly what I was feeling! You'd made me feel at home, you'd taught me what it was like to have someone at my side, even if you were fucking annoying! Now I confess my love to you and that's all you can say?!" He fell to his knees, sickened by the coldness in the older boy's eyes.

"How, you ask? Simple. I told you when you'd started this sexually instigated charade that my heart was spoken for. I had told you I would never love you or feel any other feelings toward you beside intrigue at your skewed way of thinking, I was never in this to win your heart," His matter-of-fact way of speaking had been like nails on a chalkboard to the boy, sending him spiraling into a pit of despair. To drive the knife further into the his heart and soul, the older one added, "I don't love you and I never will, so please stop acting pathetic and show me the you I already  know. I won't sleep with you anymore, this experiment is over, and just like I'd thought, you're much more human than you let on,"

Loveless words, just like the man and woman on the phone had relayed so often, had me emulating the teen boy, tears coating my cheeks, sorrow nauseating my stomach. They were too similar; The way the cold boy spoke with no remorse, leaving his younger lover a heap of agony on the club room floor. I couldn't take it anymore, knowing this scene all too well had my heart begging me to stop this torture, to just wake up already, but I couldn't, as more doors ahead awaited me. 

Opening the double doors on the other side of the classroom I'd wished never to see again, I found myself falling face first down onto a cold wooden floor. The maple finished hardwood smelled like the lemon polish I'd known so well, instantly triggering a reaction from deep inside. I bolted upright knowing what scene I had found myself a witness to, the lemon all too asphyxiating and familiar. 

Before me hung a boy, noose snug tightly around his throat as his sliced wrists dripped down onto the hardwood, a stain he'd later work weeks to remove. The chair to his writing desk lay already on it's side as he hung there, not even begging for breath. His body was tense, fighting the urge to panic for air, he had given up and he wouldn't succumb to his human nature anymore. A suffocating smirk dance across his features as the black holes in his vision began to form. The boy's room was becoming a haze, almost as if it had only been a mirage in the first place. If not for the panicked 6 year old twins' haste to drag an adult in to cut him loose, he would've made it to the afterlife he'd heard so much about. 

The nausea inside me grew as I stood frozen in place as everything unfolded around me. The raven haired boy lay there, pale as a sheet as his traitorous former lover barreled into the room, getting to work on his wounds immediately. The older boy worked frantically, his face only cracking a smile once the boy had regained full consciousness. He pushed his glasses up on his nose, inadvertently smearing his face with the crimson from his patient's wrists. Letting out a pained laugh, he remarked, "You really did yourself in this time huh?" The familiarity of the words inciting a new wave of agony to ravage my brain, "I thought you were done acting like a spoiled child," 

Coughing, he shoot a glare towards his savior, " I am done acting like a spoiled child. You'll never see this face of mine again, you four-eyed chicken," He choked out, thinking his resolve was strong enough to keep that promise; Who knew he'd have been so wrong come adulthood?

His heart had closed once again, a padlock with multiple keys guarding the sensitive organ, finalizing the determination in his soul to never let a thing so useless as love weaken him ever again. 

Picking up the pieces of my shattered psyche, I'd moved to the final room, which lay behind a door painted the most vibrant shade of red. As I stepped through, I found myself in total darkness, only illuminating once the door behind me had shut completely. I stood on the roof of my apartment complex, instantly finding myself almost impaled by a switchblade so known to me I could instantly tell what lay before my eyes. As I shifted my focus back towards the scene I'd been faced with, I felt my heart drop into my stomach. 

The blond ran with his full speed towards the roof's edge, already making up his mind to jump after the brunette that soared downwards toward the pavement. A memory that made me sick indeed, I swallowed down the bile that coated my throat. Before the tall figure could sail off of the building, I reached out to him, a primal instinct inside me not being able to let him jump to what would sure be his death.

Screaming as loud as I could, I called his name, reaching desperately for the collar of his shirt. I blinked the tears out of my eyes, finding myself soaring off my futon onto the cold hard floor of my living room instead of off my building after the blond who was always just out of my reach. My body ached, the pounding in my head unforgiving. 

"What the fuck Izaya?! Are you okay? What the hell just happened?!" Shizuo sputtered, dashing to my side to make sure I was unharmed.  I couldn't speak, the nightmare had gashed open wounds I had stitched tightly closed ages ago, leaving me mute in pure unadulterated stock.

I couldn't calm my head down, their faces making me sick and dizzy, the memories barraging me with pain I couldn't comprehend. I wasn't used to facing my problems head on, the despair it filled me with was enough explanation as to why I'd run from these painful reminders all these years. Grabbing at Shizuo, I pulled myself into his arms, searching for refuge from the storm inside my head.

Shaking like a leaf in this mental hurricane, I strengthened my grip around his waist, searching for the warmth that nobody had ever given me. Surprised when he took me into his arms, situating me atop the very waist I was just grasping onto for dear life. His strong arms held me securely against him, amazingly not crushing me with his monstrous tendencies. The heat that surrounded me, blanketing me in an ocean of Shizuo, made me feel like a ton of bricks had been pushed from my shoulders. Finally able to get a deep breath in, I lifted my head to meet Shizuo's anxious honeycomb eyes. I wanted to thank him, despite my head screaming for me to ditch him and run as fast and as far as I could from here, but an extra surge of warmth stopped me, as his soft lips met mine.

Soaking in the warmth he sent pooling into my stomach, I melded into him, moving my lips frantically against his, greedy to take in all of the heat I could. Hands tangled in his hair, legs wrapped around his waist, I cursed myself, wondering how I would ever possibly be cured of the affliction that was Shizuo Heiwajima.