Wait.

That was all they could do, wasn't it?

Sit there and wait.

Silently.

Unsurely.

Fearfully.

Shizuo was in an inner turmoil as he just sat there, staring at his enemy and trying to hate him. Why was it suddenly so hard to have that burning desire to strangle or beat Izaya to death, or watch him get hit by a truck, or anything? Shizuo had always trusted hate far more than he trusted love. From what he saw around him, love was fragile and demanding, suspicious of betrayal and when it died, everything crumbled. Hate, on the other hand, was so blinding and passionate that nothing could ever make it waver.

Until now.

He rested his elbows on his knees and lowered his head, staring at the blue carpet. It was just him and Izaya in the room; Celty took Mairu and Kururi for a breath of fresh air outside of the choking dismalness of Shinra's apartment while Shinra was taking a well-deserved rest after tending to his patients for so long. Shinra never requested Shizuo to keep watch of Izaya, probably thinking that Shizuo would either leave immediately or end Izaya's suffering right then and there, but Shizuo lingered anyway.

Why? He wasn't so sure.

It wasn't like he wanted to be here, but he was glued to the chair in Izaya's room anyway.

Waiting for something.

Anything.

But he knew that he should expect nothing. Nothing was all that they received for days.

Shizuo scooted his chair closer to Izaya's bedside. The person on the bed hooked up to machines was not Orihara Izaya. This person had suffered and was a victim of inhumanity. Orihara Izaya would never be in such a situation. Izaya was the bully, not the tragic hero. Izaya was the troublemaker, the knavish sprite that forever taunted Ikebukuro. Izaya should be out in the city right now, laughing as the world crumbled around him, not within him.

"I-za-ya," Shizuo said quietly to himself. The name felt strange to say when Izaya was right in front of him. He rarely ever called Izaya by his name. He let an exasperated sigh escape from his lips. He ought to leave. He should be catching up on sleep so that he wouldn't slack on the job with Tom tomorrow. Why did he make himself stay behind? Would Izaya even do the same for him if the roles were reversed? Shizuo chuckled at the thought; it was almost too impossible.

But he immediately quieted when he remembered the situation that had brought Izaya here in the first place. Had Izaya really been as cruel as Shizuo had always thought, Izaya wouldn't have tried so hard to save his sisters, would he?

Shizuo finally managed to push himself out of the chair, the muscles in his legs creaking from sitting still so long. He made his way to the table at the side of the room and poured himself a cup of water from a pitcher that Shinra had left some odd hours ago. He downed the cold drink in one gulp, but the iciness of it sickened him. It was neither refreshing nor cleansing; it almost tasted bitter. He nearly gagged as he dropped the cup back onto the table. Everything was sickening. This room, this situation, even he was sickening.

He dragged himself back to Izaya's bedside and rested his head against the wall. He closed his eyes, trying to put this mind to rest and forget about his confused hatred.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Izaya crying.

Izaya did not make any sign of life. He still lied lifelessly on the bed, his face ghastly pale and blank. His fragile breathing rate did not even change, but there were tears seeping out of the corner of his eyes and running down his temples.

"Izaya?" Shizuo said uncertainly.

Izaya made no response. He was a broken porcelain doll, shattered beyond repair. He was crumbling before Shizuo's eyes and Shizuo did not know how to react. Shizuo never even knew that Izaya even had the ability to cry. He had convinced himself that Izaya was heartless, but now Izaya proved that he did indeed have a heart, by breaking it.

Shizuo reached out to brush the tears away from Izaya's face, but they wouldn't stop running. He looked as if he was just asleep yet he cried and cried until it made Shizuo's heart hurt. Izaya could not hear him or see him or feel him. Shizuo could provide no comfort; all he could do was wipe the tears away from Izaya's eyes.

"Why?" Shizuo breathed. His teeth were clenched and his hands were shaking. This wasn't the way things were supposed to be. Shizuo was never supposed to see his enemy, his hated foe, in such pain and suffering that he was reduced to tears. His fingers curled around Izaya's bony wrist and he felt himself shaking. "Stop crying, Izaya—why can't you just wake up?" His jaws hurt as he bit down too hard. "Why can't all this just stop? Stop!"

There was no grin to infuriate him, no trick to irritate him, no laughter to evoke his adrenaline rush. As Shizuo stared down at Izaya crying but not waking up, he felt absolutely helpless.

"I can't help you!" Shizuo cried out. No matter what, he knew he couldn't do anything. He was a monster, a violent creature that could only destroy and not mend. "I don't know what to do! I can't—I can't do anything…"

Izaya wept silently, and it broke Shizuo down piece by piece.

The words seemed to banish all thoughts from Izaya's mind. He gawked at Shizuo, trying to get a grasp of what Shizuo meant.

"What do you mean, I have to die?" Izaya asked.

"It's so simple," Shizuo said monotonously. "With death, you can escape that pain. You will never have to deal with it again. Everything for you would be the way you want it to be. The same everyday life you relished here. Your kidnap and suffering will no longer exist to you."

"Is that's what on the other side of death?" Izaya's voice was both mirthful and desperate. How did he know that was the truth? For so long he had feared death, regarded it as absolute nothingness and proof that everything he did, everything he thought and everything he felt, was absolutely meaningless. "I could erase what has happened to me, just like that? Just by ending my life? To think that everyone could escape their problems just by taking their life! Is that why so many people are desperate to off themselves?"

Shizuo did not make a remark. Izaya suddenly felt frustration burn him. He balled his hands into fists, forcing himself not to attack. Any other time he would have gladly fought Shizuo, but he knew that it was fruitless here.

"This is so in character!" Izaya said bitterly. "Of course you would tell me the only way to solve my problem is to die. You've wanted me to die all your life. You hate me—despise me—what more should I have expected from you?"

"I told you, I am not Shizuo," Shizuo said testily. "Listen to me, Izaya."

Izaya took in a deep breath and kept his silence. He watched Shizuo suspiciously. Shizuo bowed his head and spoke much more calmly and quietly.

"Is this what you want, Orihara Izaya?" Shizuo said seriously. "How much do you hate what has happened to you?"

Izaya's mouth and throat was extremely dry. "What do you expect me to say?" he said softly. "That I enjoyed every minute of it?" Just the possibility of those words made him want to throw up. "I hate it. I hate how I was reduced to just meat. I hate how my sisters had to watch all that. I hate everything about it. But…" He stared at his feet. "How would dying…make anything better?"

"Everything would be over," Shizuo said calmly. "You will no longer have to deal with that pain anymore. It would be irrelevant to you. It will no longer touch you. Death is the best protector."

"But what about Mairu and Kururi?" asked Izaya. "What about them?"

Shizuo did not speak at first. He exhaled deeply. "That would be irrelevant to you."

"Irrelevant? It's completely relevant!" Izaya said. "What will happen to them?"

"To you, everything would be all right for everyone," Shizuo said cryptically.

"What do you mean?" asked Izaya anxiously.

"You won't have to suffer anymore," Shizuo said. "You will have no more fears, pain, sorrow, anything. You'll be free."

Izaya felt a chill run down his spine. He hated the idea of death, feared it, did everything to avoid it…and now it offered itself as his savior. He could hear the screams and remember the excruciating pain that haunted him.

Don't want…

Please don't let that be me.

I'm nothing if I return.

Scum.

Monster.

Animal.

Would reality matter to him if he was dead? Even if everything that happened had happened, would it change anything in death? It would be true, wouldn't it? He wouldn't have to live with the shame, fear, and the pain anymore. Could it possibly be any worse than reality?

It tempted him.

For the first time, he wanted to welcome death.

He reached out to Shizuo, as if willing to accept the offer, but then something stopped him.

The sound of sobbing.

He froze in confusion, his fingers inches away from Shizuo's. He couldn't recognize that voice, but it rang in his ear. He gazed up perplexedly at Shizuo, wondering if he heard the same noise as well.

"What is that?" Izaya demanded.

"That isn't you," Shizuo said noncommittally.

"Then who is it?" Izaya asked.

"Someone outside of this world," Shizuo said ambiguously.

Izaya tried to listen harder, wondering if it was one of the twins. The voice was distant, not unlike the voices he heard days ago when he thought he was hallucinating. However, it was one that he hadn't heard before. Not in a long time.

"Who is it?" Izaya repeated.

"What do you choose?" Shizuo said. His eyes were blank and calm, no longer glinting with anger or passion like Izaya was so used to.

Izaya clenched his teeth. What would happen either way? He could no longer stay in this world now that he knew the truth. He must take a path.

"Who would want you to live anyway?"

Izaya looked up immediately at the harsh words. However, Shizuo was no longer with him. Izaya was completely alone in the colorless universe. Izaya spun around, trying to locate the source of the sound, but all he met was nothingness.

"Who needs you to live?"

Izaya felt a chill crawl down his spine. The voice no longer sounded like Shizuo's. It sounded almost like his own voice.

"Why would anyone want you to live?"

Izaya could not speak back, for it was his own voice tempting him with a serpent's tongue.

"You're alone, aren't you?"

Why are you doing this? Izaya thought to himself, clutching his arms. He knew that this was no new news; this was in the back of his mind for a while.

"Don't tell me you're so conceited as to think someone would actually want you to come back," laughed the invisibility.

The crying was lessening until it was barely a whisper overlapped by the harsh truth.

"Wouldn't it be so much easier to just let everything go?" The voice was seductive with enticement.

"You can no longer be hated anymore."

"You can no longer be alone anymore."

"You can no longer be destroyed anymore."

"You can no longer be defeated anymore."

Izaya almost could no longer hear the weeping anymore.

Almost.

Shizuo did not know what to do.

Suddenly the machines in the room began to wail as well. They beeped frantically as if trying to tell Shizuo something, but he couldn't understand their language. Izaya's heart rate was frantic and desperate, the lines on the machine shuddering; Shizuo could almost hear Izaya's heart gasping for breath as if it was drowning. Izaya's brain activity looked as if it was in absolute inner turmoil. The lines on the screen were writhing in pain but Izaya showed none of this. He could only cry silently in his sleep, slipping away from this world.

"What's going on?" Shizuo cried as he rushed to the machines, trying to figure out what he could possibly do to help. There was no manual, no instructions, no button to press to magically make everything better again. He turned back to Izaya and as much as he hated to admit to himself, his heart was cracking at the sight of Izaya's silent tears. He automatically reached out to him, grabbing his hand. No one was here to witness this besides him. Once this was over, this scene would no longer exist to anyone but him, and he could live with that. He hated Izaya, but inside he didn't want Izaya to think he was alone, even if he was completely shut away from this world.

"It'll be okay, all right?" Shizuo said roughly. He was shaking all over; his voice was shaking, his hand was shaking, his entire body was shaking. Was he afraid? If he was, what was it? When the moment when Izaya could just vanish from the world, why did Shizuo hesitate?

"Stop crying, flea," Shizuo croaked, brushing the tears from Izaya's face. He could barely recognize his own voice when he said those words. "Come on, stop it. Wake up."

After years of desiring to kill Izaya, Shizuo was now begging for his life.

"Wake up, you damn flea," Shizuo said in a strangled voice. "Wake up for Kururi. For—for Mairu."

For me—

His grip tightened on Izaya's limp hand. He suddenly sensed a change in the cries of the machine. He looked up and realized with shock that Izaya's heart rate was weakening. The lines were quivering feebly, his heart beating barely enough to survive. Shizuo's blood ran cold at the sight of it.

"Why?" Shizuo could barely raise his voice. He held Izaya's hand so tightly that his other hand felt empty without anything to grasp to. "I know you, flea. You're strong. You could pull through this. Hell, I throw everything within my reach at you and you still spring back up again." He lowered his head, trying to hide from the world even if the world did not even bother for him. "If you die, what the hell am I supposed to do?" He laughed shakily in spite of himself. "Hunt down someone else? What are your sisters going to do?"

He didn't understand himself anymore. His emotions, thoughts, love and hate, it was all breaking down before him and he knew they would never be put back in the same way after this.

"Don't you dare die, Izaya," he breathed. "Don't you dare—dare leave."

The flow of tears from Izaya's eyes lessened, yet tears still dotted the white sheets.

Izaya closed his eyes, trying to block out the world he was trapped in. He couldn't breathe; was he already dying?

"Do you have a purpose even if you live?"

The voice no longer spoke to him. It was echoing inside of him, seeping into his mind and blood and echoing in his bones. It was outside of him and inside of him, devouring every inch of him.

What would he do if he survived?

He cracked an ironic smile to himself.

The only people he could think of that wouldn't mind him surviving were Mairu and Kururi, but they still had each other. They could still stay strong without him, couldn't they? Everyone would be all right without him in the world, wouldn't they…?

"How do I die?" he whispered to himself.

Was it as simple as falling asleep?

Would anyone notice?

Choking, tearing, wracking sobs—

He opened his eyes but he saw nothing. But he could hear a soul, a heart, a life other than his own.

"Is that you, Mairu? Kururi?" Izaya spoke to nothing. "Who are you?"

The sky—or whatever it was—began to rain. He reached out to touch the drops, and they soothed him when they touched him.

"Why are you crying?" Izaya whispered.

Was he still dying?

He felt himself slowly be drained. Was the rain himself pouring out until he was completely hollow?

Please don't die.

What?

Izaya blinked confusedly at the sudden plea. He couldn't tell who it was. He knew it wasn't himself. The voice sounded so familiar yet…he couldn't tell who it was.

Wake up.

It isn't fair.

"Who are you?" Izaya whispered. He felt his heart skip a beat at those words. Who was this ghost that wanted him to live? Did such a person even exist?

The rain fell harder as the sobs grew louder. It drenched Izaya from head to toe, but it did not freeze him. He felt dizzy and weak, and his legs threatened to give out under him.

Was it his imagination?

He couldn't tell, but he was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to know who this person was.

"Don't misunderstand."

The voice—his voice's doppelganger—rang out, trying to drown out the pitter-patter of the rain.

"What good is there if you return?"

"How in the world can you heal?"

"How can anything return to normal?"

Things didn't have to be normal. Nothing ever was the same. Wasn't that life?

Please don't die, Izaya.

The voice grew more and more familiar, but it sounded so heartbroken. Izaya gazed down at his stained hands. Was it okay? Was it all right?

"I'm sorry," Izaya said quietly. He looked up, letting his hands fall to his sides. He craned his neck so that he faced the sky, the raindrops caressing his cheeks. "I don't know who you are, but I'm sorry."

The rain sang in response.

"I'm sorry, but I want to be selfish one more time," he said.

The world seemed to swirl and morph around him. He stared up at the sky like a child gazing up at an elder. He knew that the choice he wanted would only truly benefit himself. It would neither seriously hurt nor bless anyone, but he wanted to know.

That someone out there wanted him for reasons he would never know. He wanted to lay his eyes on this one person that despite everything, would ask Izaya to come back.

"I don't want to die."

And everything suddenly became pitch black.

All of a sudden, he felt something solid underneath him.

The sensation shocked him. He had just been floating in nothingness earlier, and now he could feel the soft yet firm something underneath him. He could barely move and he didn't even have the strength to open his eyes. The pain was gone. The rain was gone, yet his face felt rather wet. He could hear faint beeping in the room.

There was something on his hand.

He tried to move his fingers, but he couldn't. He felt something calloused but warm squeeze his fingers together. The grip was tight but comforting. He couldn't tell what it was, so he mustered up his strength just to graze his thumb across what was in his hand.

It tightened immediately. It almost hurt.

It was so warm here.

He almost felt happy.

He finally was able to open his eyes.

The light blinded him after being immersed in darkness for so long. Everything was hazy to him and it made him feel rather dizzy. He turned his head slightly to see a figure beside him. His heart turned when he realized who it was.

"Shizu-chan?" he whispered.

Shizuo looked up, his eyes wide with surprise. Izaya's heart skipped a beat when he saw that Shizuo's eyes were red and gleaming. It nearly stopped when he realized that the rain, the sobbing, the pleas were all from Heiwajima Shizuo.

Before Izaya could even get over the shock, Shizuo reached out and held him tight. Izaya was so frail in Shizuo's arm that he could have been snapped in half, but Shizuo was as careful and gentle as he could possibly muster. Izaya didn't know how to react except with shock at the fact that his sworn enemy was hugging him like a delicate doll. He couldn't move his arms or speak; he felt too weak for even that.

"Thank God—" Shizuo's voice was strangled and muffled. "You didn't die—thank God—not allowed to do that—not without my permission—" He took in a deep breath and coughed; his throat was so tight. "Don't do that again—dammit—only I'm allowed to kill you, you hear?"

Izaya almost chuckled weakly in spite of himself. Here Shizuo was, trying to stay the tough monster everyone thought he was, yet he was crying for his hated enemy. Could monsters really have such compassion? It shouldn't be possible for them, but Heiwajiima Shizuo proved the world wrong. Either monsters did have hearts, or perhaps Heiwajima Shizuo was never one to begin with.

Izaya knew that though he denied it in the past, he always knew that the latter was the truth.

"Shizu-chan…" Izaya managed to breathe out. He managed to beam into Shizuo's shoulder so that no one would see. It was so much to take in—too much to take in—that it almost seemed too perfect. He pulled his arms around Shizuo, his hands clutching the back of his black vest as if afraid to let go.

Shizuo claimed to hate him, and yet he showed Izaya a love that Izaya never expected or experienced; a love that everyone had for one another that nothing could break. A love of humans, of people, of him.

And as Shizuo embraced Izaya, hiding his tears and muttering threats under his breath, Izaya hid his face into Shizuo's shoulder and loved.

Shizu-chan is so unpredictable.