In celebration of DRRR season 2 being released I've decided to give this chapter a revamp! After 4 years my Izanamie feelings reawoke and here we are. In 4 years my writing should have improved no matter how little, any progress is still progress, right? But I can't know for certain how much better I've gotten so let me know what you thought. I wanted to keep some skeleton of the original story but that didn't turn out as planned meaning that I had to change the title as well so as to make to fit better. This story was originally called 'His Treatment' and was an embarrassment for me to re-read.

I don't own anything of Durarara and any of its characters.

The soft glow of the moon shone through the bedroom window of Namie Yagiri, illuminating her hard features as she continued staring out on to the bustling streets of Ikebukro down below, a stark contrast to the deadly silence of her room. The city, true to its word, never did sleep nor did it allow others to sleep. Music could be heard in the distance, muffled beneath the sounds of traffic and masses of conversations being held, yet still audible.

It was nights like these where Namie could not ignore the distractions, could not find peace and serenity in the the depths of her mind. She would instead try to lose herself by simply staring out of her window at the dark canvas, devoid of any stars, and stare at the moon. If anything, she felt more in common with the moon than with the people on the streets; alone and merely just existent. Just a faint glow in the dark sky, nothing in comparison to the bright artificial light on the streets. An existence that was never truly acknowledged or loved...

'No, I mustn't go there.' She reminded her self, snapping out of her thoughts and bringing her absent-minded twirling of her long dark locks to a abrupt stop. 'I mustn't think about.. Seiji..'

She heaved a defeated sigh. It was futile, no matter how many times she tried to steer her thoughts away and focus on something, anything, they'd somehow make a full circle and end right back at her younger brother.

'I wonder where he is... how he's doing..' her eyes became distant, unresponsive to her surroundings. She doesn't remember the last time she had seen him or heard his voice. The only form of contact between them being a single text message wherein she wished him a happy birthday, not calling in fear her voice betrayed her sorrow, and the reply being a short 'thanks'. Her eyes became damp, thankfully she was alone, no one had seen Namie Yagiri shed tears and she wasn't going to stop that now.

'I wonder how his birthday was... did he enjoy himself?' No sooner had this thought left her mind, sorrow morphed in to anger and jealousy as the image of her beloved brother with.. with that girl crossed her mind. She roughly wiped her eyes against the sleeve of one arm whilst the other reached out and pulled the curtains close with force that threatened to tear the fabric.

'Careful now,' came a voice so quietly she thought it was her imagination for a split second. Quickly swerving on the spot she saw Izaya leaning against the doorway, body relaxed and arms crossed.

She was sure she had locked the door, and if by chance she had forgotten, then surely he would have at least made some sound when opening the door. Namie tried to compose herself, not let him have the satisfaction of creeping up on her whilst she was vulnerable. Yet, deep down she knew it was of no use, he could read her like an open book.

'The curtains don't come cheap," he said to her casually, taking a step in to her room, 'I'd have to dock your paycheck for that.'

'When did you return?' Namie asked, horrified at herself when her voice came out hoarse.

Izaya smiled at her, a knowing look on his face and amusement alight dark in his eyes. He cocked his head to one side, surveying her for what felt like years to Namie. She was beginning to feel flustered under his intent stare, something that she rarely felt but being caught by him whilst she was at her most unguarded state made her suddenly feel naked, exposed for him to rip apart piece by piece simply for the sick pleasure he gained by playing with people's heads and feelings.

After the years had passed to Namie, Izaya finally broke the uncomfortable silence with a small chuckle, 'He doesn't care and you know that. He's moved on and you know that. He's happy and you know that.'

Namie stayed silent, refusing to be the first to look away and concede defeat. She matched his stare with an equal amount of intensity, her anger slowly growing.

'Namie-chan, you are smart and you know that yet, I have my doubts sometimes. Surely, someone with your intellect would understand when it is time to give up and move on. Especially, when the one you must move on from is one's own younger brother.' He paused, a small smirk appearing, 'Though... I wonder, if you were truly smart, surely you would know that falling in love with one's own sibling is not the smarte-'

'You mind your own business.' Namie cut in harshly, her voice now icy and fists clenched.

'You have lived with me long enough to know that minding my business is not in my nature,' he moved in closer, lessening the space between them, 'and not knowing the business of my secretary is something that I would never forgive myself for. No matter how mundane and petty the business is.' He added, voice barely a whisper.

Namie's nails further dug in to her hands, the urge to punch that smug expression off of his face growing stronger with each passing second.

Izaya, noticing this clicked his tongue at her, 'Now, now Namie-chan, you must make sure you keep your temper in check. You know what they say; anger is a sign of weakness and you are anything but a weak woman,' he paused, and looked at her thoughtfully, 'but all women have their weakness I suppose, with you being your little baby brother. Maybe you should try look for real men instead.'

Izaya was just a couple feet away now yet he didn't stop moving in. The closer he got the bigger the urge to punch him grew, until he stopped, a mere few inches separating them.

'Men like me.' He whispered, sending shivers down he spine. Namie stared at him, unsure of what to feel. He comes in to her room, invades on her privacy, mocks her feelings, disregards her brother and has the nerve to look at her as though he was just inquiring about the weather. Her anger and contempt for the man in front of her had reached it's boiling point, the more she stared in to the dark depths of his eyes the more she found herself unable to keep her senses in check. With concious control of her limbs lost, she took a step back, her fist pulled back, aiming straight for his face but he was expecting just that. In one swift motion stepped aside, taking a hold of her wrist and using her momentum spin her around on to the bed beside them.

Before Namie could make any attempt at getting up, her arms pinned were above her head and Izaya's face was an inch away, his breath ghosting over her face. She made to move, to push him off but it was useless, he was physically stronger. The most she could do was look away, but she refused to. Looking away would only prove that he had won, that she was weak.

'See Namie-chan, I told you to keep your anger in check. Anger is always landing you human's in trouble, though, I don't think you would class this as trouble. Maybe this is what you wanted.'

Namie stared at him in disbelief. She was having a hard time in understanding that people like him existed. No, that a person like him existed. A person so twisted, calculating, manipulative and still... still somehow so relaxed and at ease. Yet here he was, an inch away from her face. Close enough for her to analyse each of his features, and for once she didn't see his usual amusement. For once she didn't see the telling signs which showed that this was all a big joke to him. For once he looked honest and exposed as he intently watched her beneath him, waiting for her to say something.

'Men like you, huh?' she whispered, more to herself than anyone before closing the distance between them as her lips met his. Izaya seemed taken aback by her sudden action, stiffening ever so slightly before responding. 'A small victory for me.' Namie thought to herself, smiling.

He released her arms allowing her to wrap them around his neck, pulling him closer whilst he ran his fingers through her hair, one hand on her thigh, making its way up her skirt. The movements were slow, languid even, yet it sent jolts running throughout her body. She arched her back as he deepened the kiss, body hot against his, her clothes becoming burdensome.

All too soon, Izaya pulled back, chuckling quietly as Namie tried to follow his movement only belatedly realising. She glared at him but couldn't bring herself to put the actual emotions in to it. He knew that as well as his he pushed her hair back so as to get a better look at her before cupping her face, 'Yes, men like me,' he grinned at her, 'and since I'm one of a kind, I guess your options are very limited.'

Namie didn't know what to say. The man above her was the last person she'd expect yet it felt perfect. He was wrong in every way but why did he make it all seem alright, that everything was going to fine. Clearing her her clouded mind and bringing her to ease. It was disconcerting, how she hadn't realised her growing attraction to him over the months yet he probably had. It scared Namie knowing that this man knew her better than she knew herself.

'You make me so angry.' She said finally.

'You know what they say; he who angers you, controls you.' Izaya leaned forward, lips meeting once again and this time, he had no plan to move away.

Apologies for any mistakes you may have picked up on. I usually have to read this over 10x on separate occasions to fully fix everything OTL
But thank you for reading and leave me a comment.. if you like.. or not.. it's up to you but I'd appreciate it *puppy dog eyes*

PS. Thank you for all the positive comments! I love reading them (though sometimes I'm not sure if it's deserving of so much praise lol). I appreciate it very much~