the-fleaswatter

[the-fleaswatter]

Immortal

Though he'd been called one his entire life, Shizuo had never thought of himself as a monster. Every waking moment of every day he was reminded, by at least one person, that he was still human; that he was not the vicious beast everyone made him out to be. And that one person's opinion meant more to him than then entirety of Ikebukuro. As long as he had someone to remind him who he was, he would never think of himself as anything or anyone else. 

But having a reputation as a monster, even a fake one, brought with it much more trouble than Shizuo was willing to deal with. People seemed to think they could "slay the beast." He'd scoff and smash his cigarette between his fingers, throw it on the ground and crush it to dust. It had become a ritual. Then he'd promptly lift the person from the ground and fling them across the street. Gravity did the rest. 

His strength had ceased to be a burden the moment he learned to control it. When he stopped breaking bones, he stopped breaking his sanity. But because of that control, he thought himself unbreakable; eternal. 

Boy, was I wrong.

                                                  ~~~

The moment he'd been injected was the moment he lost all sense of self. Whoever he was facing this time, they had studied him in ways that allowed them to exploit his one weakness. Shizuo didn't know how to live without the immeasurable strength he'd been born with. Take that away, and he was virtually defenseless.

He hadn't even felt the needle go in until the burning in his neck forced a growl of pain from his throat. 

That's when it hit him. His arms and legs felt like lead, dragging him to the ground. He forced had forced himself to his feet, tried to grab the nearest lamp post. For all his attempts, his fingers could barely grasp the thick object. They slipped off and fumbled around as though he had no control. 

No control...

Searing pain lanced through his side and before he could react, the same pain burned a hot line across his hip. It was a blade; an unfamiliar blade. The blade opened a deep, red smile across his side. Instantly, the shirt–a recent gift from his brother– was soaked with blood. 

Another jagged wound raked across his arm, tearing the skin in shreds that clung desperately to the bloodied mess he'd become. "Why are you..." He didn't even want to waste the breath on that question.

Because I'm a monster.

They'd narrowly missed his heart with the final blow. The knife sunk into his chest, but instinct kicked in and he pushed away before it caused any fatal damage. If his arms and legs couldn't find the strength to fight back as he usually did, then they could find it in them to run. 

He'd never run from a fight before. To turn and leave like this–it nearly broke him. But self-preservation won over his pride and he turned and fled. 

                                                   ~~~

Of all the places he could go, of all the people he could see when he was on the verge of succumbing to death itself, he chose the apartment of the one man he'd sworn he would obliterate from this earth. The one man who'd caused him so much pain for so many years, in so many ways. 

The damn flea... 

The man he loved. 

He stumbled through the door and heard the informant's soft footsteps sweeping across the floor upstairs. He was barely able to make it to the railing in his weakened state. The hollow sound as he slapped his hand against the wood must have alerted Izaya of his presence.

He could practically hear the smile in his voice as he called out, "Is that you, Shizu-chan?" Footfalls came closer and closer as he neared the top of the stairs. "You're late. Maybe I'll have to punish you for–" The rest of the taunt caught in the raven's throat. Even from his high vantage point he could see the blood coating the blonde's body. 

He hurried down the stairs and caught Shizuo before his body hit the ground. Though he was slender, and smaller than Shizuo's muscled frame, he was able to muster the strength to drag the other's body to the couch. 

"Shizu-chan... Shizu-chan, what happened?" When there was no response, Izaya panicked. "Shizu-chan! Shizuo! Answer me!" He shook a weakened shoulder and earned a groan from the blonde. 

The shaky sigh came out as one of relief. He was still alive. But for how long, the informant couldn't tell. He was no doctor. Thankfully he had Shinra on speed dial and urged the man to come to his apartment at once. There was no way he could drag Shizuo all the way to the self-proclaimed doctor's home. Not when the man could barely stand , let along walk, on his weakened legs.

The informant reached forward with shaky hands to push damp, blonde strands from Shizuo's face. "Answer me, Shizuo." The teasing nickname was useless here. He needed to say the man's real name, to remind himself that he was there; that he was just as real as his namesake. 

"Izaya..." 

It was faint. Barely more than a whisper, carried by what little air he could expel. Izaya clasped the blonde's hand tightly in encouragement. "Shizuo, I'm here." 

Pale blue hues flickered to life, though it seemed it took much more effort than usual to keep his lids from falling closed once again. "I always thought..." He wanted to squeeze those fingers back, but he couldn't build up the strength to flex his fingers like that. "I always thought that I would never lose to anyone but you." 

Izaya nodded. Tears streaked down his cheeks, but he didn't care. He could be vulnerable in front of this man. He already had been time and time again. 

"I think I let it... get to my head..." His eyelids threatened to flutter shut, but he fought to keep them open. "So much that I thought of myself as.... immortal."

"You are immortal." Izaya's entire body shook with fear. He didn't like where this was going. He didn't want to hear these words; never thought he'd have to hear these words. "You got hit by a truck, Shizuo.  A goddamn truck! And you lived. You are as immortal as they come."

His gaze flickered to the damp face of the informant. A weak smile played across his lips; a rare smile. "Immortality doesn't exist." 

Izaya shook his head. "It does..." Shizuo's eyes closed and his grip on the informant's hand had slackened. Dark eyes widened and he gave those fingers  squeeze. "Shizuo... Shizuo, wake up! Wake up! NOW!"

He shook the blonde's arm, then his shoulder. He pressed a hand over his heart and found  modicum of comfort in the faint, oh-so-faint, heartbeat. "I need you to stay with me. Stay with me, dammit!"

This was the scene Shinra walked in on when he pushed open the informant's apartment door.

                                                  ~~~

"His heart is stopping."

                                                  ~~~

"There's something in his blood stream. I can't quite figure out what it–"

"Get it out. Now."

"That won't be easy. The strain could kill him."

"He's dying already, Shinra." 

                                                  ~~~

Shizuo couldn't feel a thing. He could only hear snippets of conversations. If he wasn't aware of his wounds, of his weakness, he would have assumed they were talking about someone else. 

He was floating now. The moment he opened his eyes he could see the entire room laid out before him. Shinra was bent over some equipment. Celty was shaking in the corner of the room, her helmet angled away from the scene. And Izaya... Izaya sat at his side. His side. He could see his body just as clearly as everyone else's.

                                                  ~~~

"Izaya.... He's..."

"Shizuo... Shizuo.... Shizuo! SHIZUO!"

Flat line.

The dark matter that Celty so often wielded pulled Izaya away from the lifeless body of Shizuo Heiwajima. Izaya's screams were the only thing anyone could hear. They drowned out the sound of Shinra's quiet sob. They even obliterated Celty's silent mourning. 

His scream echoed through the blonde's body and straight into the man's soul.

                                                  ~~~

Izaya... Izaya....

I can't die yet. I promised I'd kill you one day. I can't lose to you. I can't lose to anybody.

                                                  ~~~

If Shinra told anyone that he had seen the monster of Ikebukuro die and then rise from the dead, no one would believe him. Shizuo had some crazy strength and some otherworldly endurance, but he was no immortal. 

However, that night his heart had stopped beating. His soul had left his body. He was in the middle of crossing over when one person reminded him that he had reason to live. That reason mercilessly teasing him day in and day out. And that reason lay content in his arms every night.

I will never leave you... Lips brushed a pale forehead as he felt the informant drift off against his chest. Damn flea... 

[the-fleaswatter]

Shizaya na We Heart It http://weheartit.com/entry/84221019

[the-fleaswatter]

[the-fleaswatter]

[the-fleaswatter]

ちっちゃいの

[the-fleaswatter]

[the-fleaswatter]

okaay I’m going away… =w=

[the-fleaswatter]

[the-fleaswatter]

"Coming to love something you hate is... impossible, right?" Artist: inumog

[the-fleaswatter]

きんえん。

[the-fleaswatter]

It.. just hurt.

[the-fleaswatter]

スパーク行けなくてすみませんでしたって書きたい… by あゆ

[the-fleaswatter]

[the-fleaswatter]

A quick scan of the area and he knew the man had escaped. But Shizuo was fast, quick to react. He knew there were very few places to hide and his offender had very little time to find somewhere suitable to keep himself out of the blonde's sight. 

As he stood there, fuming, hands clenched into tight fists, he remained perpetually aware of his surroundings. The owners were still behind him. He could almost feel the tension humming through their bodies. They must assume that the flash he saw was the reflection of a gun. And what was stopping them from assuming that? Drug lords were not the most revered in society. The barrel of a gun was no stranger in his life. 

However, he knew it was not a firearm, but a camera; an equally deadly weapon in the right hands. 

The photographer stepped from the shadows, making the blonde's job a little easier than he had expected. Blue orbs darted toward the glint of metal. The light reflected off the blade of the knife as it was shifted in a grip that clearly spelled dominance with the weapon of choice. 

Lips quirked into a crooked smirk. How useless. "That puny little knife won't do a damn thing for ya." He took a step to the side, intent on keeping the photographer cornered. "Hand over the camera, snoop, and I might let you get out of here unharmed." 

Somehow, he felt that such a thing would be impossible. There was something about this man... something he didn't like right from the get-go. He did not want to let him continue to roam his streets when he posed a potential threat to his lifestyle. 

AU Picture Perfect || @ the-fleaswatter

Camera securely strapped around his neck, the informant crawled on his hands and knees, still hidden by the stack of crates. Making it to the corner of the room, he realized that the vent he had slipped in through was now completely covered from the other side. Exit blocked off, dark eyes glanced around for a second option. He could hear the blond getting closer. His options were dwindling by the second.

Letting out a sigh of frustration, he pressed his back against the side of one of the crates. He took the camera from around his neck and popped the side open, pulling the memory card from the slot. Shifting to one side, he shoved the small piece of plastic in his back pocket. Picking up the camera again, Izaya crawled back towards where he was first sitting and peaked his head around the crate.

He saw the two goons standing with the briefcase. Crawling forward, he was able to see Shizuo standing in front of the crate he squatting behind only moments before. With the camera gripped in one hand, the info broker reached around to his back pocket again, pulling out his switch blade. Standing up straight, he moved around the crates, now facing the blond. “Aa, I was having so much fun too," he pouted in mock disappointment, smirking at the drug dealer.

Tight black jeans clung to his lithe frame, his tight black shirt showing off just more than an inch of his pale skin around his hips. His trademark jacket hung loosely around him, slightly shrugged off his shoulders. He played with the switchblade in his right hand while his left loosely hung onto the strap of the camera.

[the-fleaswatter]

[the-fleaswatter]

[the-fleaswatter]

静雄・夕暮れ

Pixiv ID: 10624249 Member: 浅井