"And there have been a surprising increase in murders lately, all around Tokyo. Though Ikebukuro seems to be where most of them are found." Shizuo was watching the news, though he wasn't really paying attention. Three days. It was three days since he's left his apartment, since he quit his job, since he stopped caring.

"The bodies are found missing all their teeth, to note one very disturbing detail we've learned. Cause of death in these bodies, now up to a total of 7, has yet to be released." The reporter at the latest scene carried on, a news anchor nodding along with her from the studio. Police are moving around in the rain behind her, a small body covered by a white sheet wheeled away in the background.

"And there have been symbols painted over the bodies, is that correct?"

"Yes, that's right Shinta-san. Red symbols, always the same, are painted over the victim's naked bodies. Some speculate it's a word in an ancient language, or a rune to be more specific." A little girl. The latest body was a little elementary schoolgirl, currently still unidentified. "Police won't tell us whether or not they've identified what the symbols mean but one thing's for sure, there is definitely a new cult in Ikebukuro."

"Thank you, Akagi-san. Up next we'll be bringing you latest on the brewing war between America and North Korea and just where we stand on that. But first, the weather." They cut to another man in a suit, making bad jokes about the constant rain and umbrellas.

It had been raining for two days straight, shittily enough. It matched his mood perfectly, at least. It was august but it was already bitingly cold, seeping into bones and allowing viruses to fester easily. Tch, talk about the weather. Shizuo already knew the weather forecast, shitty. It was shitty with a chance of everyone being assholes.

No one was a good person, not really. He wasn't. Izaya wasn't. Celty, Kasuka, Shinra, Kadota, none of them were good. And the city was being taken over by the next new villain, child murdering assholes. It was sick, everyone was sick and going to burn in hell. Him included.

He quit his job because it didn't matter, nothing did. His apartment's rent has been paid 10 months in advance by his brother, for his birthday. Which means he has until November before he needs to start paying again. He's got some money saved because of this, so for now he'll be okay without his job. Tom had been worried, of course, but Shizuo hardly cared.

He was finding it difficult to care about anything aside his new revelation and his own shortcomings. His mind was like a distraught game of tennis, bouncing back and forth between Izaya and how much he hated himself. Eventually one side would lose and he'd focus on that for a little while, until the game picked back up.

Right now the losing side was in his own court of self hatred, because he refused to dwell on the flea any longer than he had to.

Aww, you don't love me anymore, Shizu-chan?

That was fake Izaya, in his head again. He hadn't really left since the day he'd killed the alternate version. He hasn't told Shinra, doesn't want to be analyzed again. It was Shinra's idea to do that shitty therapy with the machine that's scarred him for life anyway, like hell is he gonna go and let him make it worse.

Don't ignore me, Shizu-chan. Aren't we pals?

No, no they fucking weren't. The voice was a constant presence, one he couldn't control and one that wouldn't go away. Ignoring him helped, sometimes, when the flea in his head sulked. Other times it backfired horribly. He hopes this is one of those times.

I helped you, unless you've forgotten. Why be so rude to the only person who's willing to talk to you?

No, he wasn't going to give in. It was probably a side effect of the drugs in his brain still. It'll stop soon, it has to. Besides the voice never helped him, not really. Why would it now?

Shiiiizu-chaaaan. Don't you wanna vent about these problems you're having? I can help.

That had to be a fucking lie. The voice was part of himself, and if he couldn't help himself then how could this part help? Bullshit, mental Izaya was bullshitting him as always. He couldn't be helped.

I can also make things much worse, if you keep ignoring me like this. Don't be ungrateful.

He turned up the volume on the news louder, though he wasn't paying attention. He was focusing too hard on the noise of the TV and not the noise in his head. The words of the news anchors were blurring together, and for a moment his head was silent.

Izaya would be so disgusted by your feelings that he'd probably go ahead and end your life. You know he could do it too, if Shinra found the right drugs to keep you down then the real Izaya can, too.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck fuck. He was right. The voice was right and there was shit he could do about it except hole himself in his tiny home and pretend it was all a lie. But though the walls were comforting maybe he should get out some, maybe distractions would keep the voice away... 'Fuck, I'm so messed up...' HE thinks, breathing out a harsh sigh.

"I need a smoke." He mumbles aloud, getting off the couch and heading to the door. He slips on his shoes, leaves his coat on the rack even though it's raining, and slips out the door to the gas station nearby.

He's soaked quick, heavy rain washing over Ikebukuro like it's trying to clean away the sin of a corrupted city. It's not helping, only washing away the scents of restaurants, perfume, shops, and magnifying the smell of stray dogs, blood, and garbage.

And with all the ugly scents clogging up his nose and the voice clouding up his head, it's a wonder he even notices Izaya at all. He freezes where he is, winding picking up to ruffle his hair and clothes. He watches, numb, as Izaya leans back and readjusts his coat against the building he's taking shelter under.

He doesn't step forward, doesn't grab the vending machine or the car nearby and hurl it at his enemy. People still start to scatter, a man even trips in his haste, gets trampled by the crowd rushing away from danger. He gets back up on his own, hobbles away from the pair as fast as he can.

Once the crowd is gone and he looks away from where the fan had been, he looks back up to meet red eyes a few feet away. He's moved when Shizuo wasn't looking, grinning at him like a snake. He's a man holding all the cards, even if there's nothing to prove and no need to strike.

"Shizu-chan, hello! Welcome back to the land of the living, how is everything?" He's speaking in a very friendly way, sarcasm dripping over words saying that he cares. And Shizuo, he can't bring himself to move. Usually he has problems holding back, now he can't even snarl back.

He can't because in his mind his hands are still splattered with blood and brain and bone. Replaying over and over when he smashed a rock through his skull and came to a conclusion he can't face.

He loves the smirking son of a bitch in front of him. That love will never be returned, either. In the end he can't even justify this love in any logical way or even begin to grasp anything beyond that fact alone.

So what should he do? Fake it, he supposes. Smash the pest with a car and wait for the next fight.

"I thought I told you I'd kill you if you showed your face here." He says, loud and clear over the rain. Izaya stalks a little closers, one foot in front of the other and looking too smarmy for something as simple as walking.

"Ah yes, but isn't that what you always say? Careful, you're a broken record at this point Shizu-chan! Broken in more ways than that, too." He chirps, smiling in a way that suggests he didn't just insult him. Shizuo is definitely a broken something, alright.

"Yeah? Good, then we'll match when I break your face!" He snaps, wishing he was a little witter. Izaya just looks pleased, spreading his arms wide. The glow of the convenience store behind him makes him look almost like something holy. It's a fitting image, just the kind of thing a demon like Izaya would go for.

"Go ahead and try, beast!" Izaya purrs, his expression going past sadistic joy and edging on mania. Shizuo swallows thickly, staring at his enemy without the ability to make a single move.

Well, do something! He's going to find out. The Izaya in his head hisses, and he pushes his feet forward. Rain splashes with his stomps as Izaya lowers his arms. He's smiling, still, but he's also analyzing. That's never good.

He's moving through the right motions, fists clenching, right arm raising. Izaya's head is tilting, body tensing to duck away and going through their dance with practised ease. Except when his fist is close enough that Izaya usually moves away, this time he doesn't. Just stares at Shizuo expectantly who doesn't have time to properly divert his fist fully away.

It collides with Izaya's chest, his body flying back and splashing through the water covering the street. He hits the building behind him, back colliding with hard brick and water droplets arch through the air with the force. Izaya winces, head smacking back hard but he still laughs, loud and startling over the hiss of rain and distant traffic.

"Fuck!" He hisses, over Izaya's laughter. "Why the fuck didn't you move, dumbass?!" He's furious, anger coming now and it's not just at Izaya. He's hesitated, he's hit the asshole he like likes, and now he's shown weakness.

"Interesting!" Izaya pipes up, shifting to stand up against the wall behind him. He leans against it, like he needs the support after getting hit that hard. Shizuo is 99.9 percent sure he's bullshitting and playing it up but it still makes his chest constrict.

"What's interesting, insect?" He spits, irrationally angry as always.

"Your behavior." He tilts his head, sly eyes dark and resentful.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" His voice is harsh but quiet, nearly getting lost in the rain.

"You're showing signs of anxiety. You came to my house acting pathetic, you forgot you were in a hospital gown, you're in this rain without a coat, you didn't attack me when you saw me and just now… you tried not to hit me." It's correct, all of it. Damn, leave it to Izaya to analyze everything and find every single weakness without even trying.

"So what?" He sighs, running a hand through his wet hair.

"So, it's disgusting. Stop acting as if you're capable of anything other than your basic animal instincts." A knife comes flying, stabbing into his shoulder before he can even blink. "Monsters like you are only good for hurting people~!"

"Fuck you!" He rushes at him, and this time Izaya doges. His fist goes through brick, shattering a wall of the little convenience store before them and allowing rain and wind to pour in. He'll feel bad about it, later, but right now the sight and sting of blood being washed away the second it seeps from the cuts on his knuckles is so satisfying that he can't care. It'll be even better when it's Izaya's head in place of brick.

"Hah, there's my beast!" He turns, rushing down an alley and turning a corner sharply. Shizuo follows as always, water splashing around them and blood boiling in his veins.

And there we are, chapter one of the final part! There are six other written chapters and more to come in the future. I'll post the done ones soon and any new ones I write. I update pretty often. Like usually once a week I guess.

To Fiery Wings... Omg thank you! 3 You're such a sweetie! Ugh I can't figure out how to reply to your reviews I am so sorry I'm not ignoring you I swear. Thank you! Yeah sorry about And I Can't Stay Away. That story was just Izaya and what our crazy little muffin was doing while Shizuo was asleep. I like to drag things out lol. But I'm still happy you liked :)