Happy New Years [Eve]! Enjoy the final chapter~

weak points / TWENTY ONE

His palm was a little sweaty as he held hers, even as Hikari found herself shivering at the cool wind rustling evergreens and the empty branches of cherry blossom trees. Pink petals blanketed the ground, settling over flowers already laid before the rows and rows of stone. The sky burned, as rosy as the fallen flowers and his flushed cheeks.

It was, she supposed, not a bad place to be buried.

"Which one is it?"

Hikari tightened her grip without meaning, stepping close enough that their shoulders bumped together. "A bit further up," she said, looking alone the rows of graves, "…I haven't been here since the funeral."

"You'll be fine."

"With you here, definitely," she agreed, smiling, "Thanks, Shizuo."

He stiffened, shoulders tensing. He could tell now that she was being genuine, so well-versed in her lies that her honesty was immediately obvious. Hikari wasn't looking at him, for which he was glad. He could only hope the breeze cooled his warm cheeks before she noticed.

They were silent as they passed the headstones. Shizuo read the names, and Hikari followed her memories of the last visit here to the foot of one particular grave. Flowers sat beside the stone slab marking the grave. Purples, whites and yellows; all like still, soft fireworks. Hikari didn't bring flowers because, if Ryuji Shibata had been alive, he would have teased her for it.

Their fingers slipped from one another, and Hikari knelt over the grave. When she had come last time, she had left a mound of dirt behind – yet now, grass grew over the body of her brother. Her fingers traced the engraving that spelled out his name, and she felt herself whispering it back to the tombstone.

"Hikari?"

She pushed herself to her feet, straightening her skirt out. "It's weird." She remarked suddenly, stepping back to Shizuo's side.

He glanced down at her through his sunglasses. "Huh? How so?"

"I mean, to let go…I spent months just…" Hikari grimaced, found it impossible to look him in the eye as she admitted, "Revenge was all I had after Ryuji died."

Shifting his weight and shuffling his feet, Shizuo deliberated on whether or not to bring it up. It was only because she did a poor job of hiding her trembling hands that he did. "I remember you saying something to Tatsuo, about how Shibata was the only one that cared about you…"

Her green eyes pinned him down and he felt like he was lost in a forest so deep and dark.

"…That's not true. Not anymore, at least," He concluded quietly, a little awkward, "So, ah…"

"Just spit it out."

"Until you can find a reason to live for yourself, you can, ah, use me as an excuse."

Hikari laughed at his seriousness, understanding what he was saying and finding that no other reaction seemed appropriate. "Don't worry so much, Shizuo," she told him firmly, eyes shining, "Ryuji went to a lot of trouble to make sure I could have a fulfilling life. I'm not wasting this chance."

When she said those last words, she didn't look at him. That was a confession, a resolution, a promise to her brother and the best she could do was look at the name on his grave as she said it. It was a strange feeling – like a knot in her stomach, in her throat, or perhaps just in reality itself – to realise pinky promises were now out of the question when it came to her and Ryuji.

She heard the snick of the lighter before she smelled the smoke. Glancing across, she saw Shizuo lifting a cigarette to his lips and her lungs filled with second-hand smoke. It had been months since Shizuo last shared a smoke with Ryuji, and years since Hikari ever had.

They were silent for a moment, each with their own thoughts – Shizuo thinking that he hated cemeteries, Hikari thinking that she had never missed smoking as much as she did right now. She would be leaving the profound thoughts on the obscurities of death to someone else for the time being, at least until she could conceive of an idea that went any further than fuck this.

Shizuo's head jerked upwards suddenly. "Shoko Setsuya," he glanced towards Hikari, "Why is that your ringtone?"

She pulled her ringing phone from her pocket and didn't look at him as she replied dryly, "Why do you know who that is in the first place?" Popular female idols? Shizuo hardly seemed the type. "Is it 'cause she's got big tits?"

"Tom has it as his ringtone as well."

Hikari laughed shortly as she let the call – from Ishikawa, as was expected – go to voicemail, and though Shizuo was still breathing in nicotine breaths, he felt as if the air had never been fresher. "So, does that mean that someone like that isn't or is your type?" With her free hand, she cupped an imaginary breast twice the size of hers.

Shizuo knew she was teasing him, and thought it would be funny to see that cool façade break when he replied, "Don't be stupid. Your tits are obviously my favourite." What he had forgotten was that, upon looking at Hikari's blushing cheeks, his face would always immediately turn red as well.

Glancing at Ryuji's headstone, Shizuo muttered, "I'm not sure if we should be talking about this here."

"It is inappropriate, isn't it?" Though she was the one to say so, Hikari laughed as though it wasn't a concern of hers, "Come on, let's go."

"Hm? You don't wanna stay longer?"

She shrugged lightly. "Not like we can't come back. Besides, we gotta catch that train back into the city."

"If you say so."

"You…you didn't want to stay longer, did you?"

"Sentimentality isn't really my thing." Shizuo answered shortly, his cigarette burning down to its last breath.

She exhaled deeply, heavily. Her fingers stretched out, uncurled, and she felt a little like she was letting Ryuji slip through her fingers. It had always been that feeling – the loss, the emptiness, the vastness of the world without him to support her – that made her panic when it came to letting go.

The emptiness lasted until Shizuo slipped his hand into hers.

"If your hands are full with the past, there's no room to grab onto things in the future."

"What?" Hikari glanced at Shizuo, wondering how he could read her mind.

"…Nothing. Just something Ryuji once said to me." He admitted gruffly.

"Oh." She didn't mean to sound as hoarse as she did. Her throat felt dry, her eyes burning.

Shizuo glanced down, and because the wind was still for the moment, wondered what excuse she'd use this time to pretend she wasn't crying. At least, that was what he expected; certainly not for Hikari to wipe at her eyes, to acknowledge her tears as she whispered, "I hate crying in public."

He let his thumb brush over her knuckles, readjusting the arrangement of their fingers. "It's just you and me here." He assured.

She glanced up, smiling with bitter sweetness. "Yeah, I guess that's fine then."

He shrugged, looking away because she was a woman with a very nice smile. He dropped the cigarette on the concrete strip around Ryuji's headstone, and crushed the butt under his foot. They might not have flowers for him, but at least he would appreciate the smoking.

"Going?" Shizuo asked.

Hikari took those first few steps away from the grave, pulling him along afterwards. "Going," she agreed, taking a deep, steadying breath, "We might have to hurry to catch the train."

If they didn't, it would be a while before the next trip back into Ikebukuro from the more rural suburb – the Shibatas' hometown – they were in right now. They hurried along the rows of graves, doing their best to avoid walking over anyone. Shizuo walked stiffly, and Hikari, even in heels, moved gracefully and carried herself confidently. Even though they held hands, Shizuo was a step behind her as the exited the cemetery and made their way through the suburban streets and back to the train station.

He liked watching her shoulders move, her hips swaying, her legs moved underneath the tight, black skirt. She was definitely a model, and more than definitely attractive. When Shizuo finally accepted hand-holding in public – which had only been this morning, a little over a week since Tatsuo Sawamura had been killed – it was only to let everyone know that Hikari was physically, emotionally, and sexually unavailable to everyone but himself.

As they walked, stopping at the last set of traffic lights before the station on the other side of the street, Shizuo finally remembered to ask, "By the way, who was that calling you?"

"Guess." Hikari looked back teasingly.

"…Ishikawa?"

She nodded, grinning. The light turned green for them. "Since I missed our last meeting, I'm rescheduling."

"Uhuh." He said, wondering how intrusive he was allowed to be. She was touching upon the subject of her future, but was her future any of his business?

"Although I do think he should really be investing in better clients than me, I'm not ready to drop him as my manager just yet," Hikari explained, "I'm thinking about getting back into modelling."

"Do the gravure stuff again," Shizuo suggested suddenly, "And see if you can keep the underwear they put you in."

His voice was lower as the entered onto the modern, concrete platform, surrounded by a few other travellers into Ikebukuro. A screen hanging overhead said the train was one minute away.

Hikari laughed, her free hand over her mouth as if that stopped the giggles. "They wouldn't let me," she replied coolly, "Besides, I also want to seek out opportunities to get me on the other side of the camera, as well."

Shizuo shrugged off his disappointment. He was glad that Hikari was telling him this, glad that she wanted to take on new things in life.

She pulled on his hand, waiting until the crowd around the two of them were distracted by the train pulling up. As the brakes squeaked, she leaned in to Shizuo to whisper in confidence, "But still, me wearing lingerie can be arranged."

He pretended he didn't care, that getting the two of them onto the train and finding a seat was much more important, but she caught the way his eyes lit up as he glanced towards her surreptitiously.

Chatter filled the carriage of the train, and Shizuo managed to snag two of the last seats for them. No one really wanted to challenge a bartender with bleach-blonde hair for a seat on the train, even despite the crowd. Given this station was the last stop before Ikebukuro, where a large portion of travellers were sure to get off, it was no surprise to find the place overrun with travellers.

Though at first, Hikari sat close to Shizuo, thigh to thigh, she jumped up at the sight of an elderly woman struggling to get through the crowd with her walking stick.

"Ma'am! Ma'am!" Hikari tapped the older woman lightly on the shoulder, drawing her attention, "Would you like to take my seat? You'll get a wonderful seat buddy," she pointed to Shizuo and grinned brightly, "Well, he isn't much for talk, but he's good to look at, right?"

The older woman smiled back, wrinkles gathering at the corners of her lips and eyes. "Dear, thank you very much. You don't mind?"

Hikari shook her head, already grabbing onto one of the handles that hung down for standing passengers. With mutual agreement, the elderly woman took the vacant seat next to Shizuo. She smiled across at him, and he managed a sort of weak, half-smile back at her.

The train lurched forward, pitching the passengers backwards for a moment.

"Thank you," the woman said to the both of them, glancing between them, "When you get to my age, it's not as easy to get around as it once was. You're very kind."

"When she wants to be." Shizuo muttered.

"And never to him." Hikari added to the old woman, who chuckled.

"Well my, that's just going to make it a lot easier for some other woman to steal him away," She patted Shizuo's knee, and he stiffened, glaring at Hikari for putting him in this predicament, "Why, if I were fifty years younger…"

"I bet you just had them lining up for you," Hikari agreed cheerfully, feeling generally delighted by a fulfilling conversation, "You have a really nice smile, if you don't mind me saying."

The woman smiled bashfully, touching her cheek with the hand not curled around the walking stick. "No one's said that to me in a while…"

"It's true." Hikari insisted flippantly. Good or bad, there was a newly-discovered something about having the freedom to say exactly what she thought.

"Well, thank you."

The woman sat in silence for a while, smiling to herself. Shizuo stared out the window at the city lights and sunset passing by, and Hikari watched him carefully. She hoped that, just as he promised to stick by her, he wouldn't mind if she did the same. Ikebukuro was Ryuji's home, and her home now as well. With no police coming after her with murder charges – perhaps the Sawamura family had buried the scandal without remorse for their lost son, perhaps Izaya Orihara had decided to repay Hikari for entertaining him – and with the murder weapon tucked safely away in her bedside drawer, there was no immediate threat to this new life of hers.

An automated, female voice echoed through the loudspeakers; "Now arriving at; Ikebukuro Station."

Shizuo almost jumped from his seat before the train had even pulled to a stop. Hikari smiled at him, swaying with the train, steady only because Shizuo offered his arm to her. Though the bruises on her arm were fading, his actions still deliberately and consciously avoided any chance of repeating the incident.

The doors opened and Hikari glanced towards the old woman once more, smiling. "It was nice to meet you."

"Same to you, dear," she replied kindly, "Have a good evening!"

Hikari nodded, waving as Shizuo nudged her gently towards the exit. She followed his jump from the carriage to the platform, as well as the path cut by his tall figure through the crowd. She kept close to avoid separation, even though the only way to go was up and out. Ikebukuro streets were waiting.

As Shizuo avoided her gaze and didn't offer his hand to her, she asked, "Are you annoyed?"

"Not at you," he shouldered his way out of the crowded station, "She didn't take her hand off me that whole time, you know."

Hikari laughed suddenly, without meaning to. Catching his glare as she fell in step, she replied lightly, "Well, give me a few moments alone with you tonight, and you'll forget all about it."

He snorted, shrugged, and glanced around at the sunset skies over Ikebukuro's bustling streets. "Speaking of, are you coming to mine tonight?" Shizuo paused a moment, wondering if there was something more that, as a man, he should say to her, as a woman, "…I could order something for tea, and we could make it our second date."

"Shizuo…" Neither wanted to repeat the misunderstandings of their first date, "Are you asking me out? Properly?"

"…Yeah."

"Okay," Hikari was grinning one moment, only to freeze up as she recalled a sudden something, "But not okay – just yet, at least. There's something I need to say…something you need to know, first."

Shizuo thought about how this might play out and all he could think of was Tatsuo Sawamura and the grave of Ryuji Shibata. He wasn't particularly fond of Hikari's secrets.

"No," he replied quickly, "Don't say it."

His footsteps quickened and Hikari was skipping to keep up with him, zigzagging her way down the sidewalk. The air was crisp and cool against her cheeks, her heels dodging squashed cigarettes.

"It's important." She insisted.

"Don't say it."

"Shizuo, come on-!"

She reached out, grabbed his hand, and tugged sharply. Though he was infamously immoveable, he still moved for her and the two of them stumbled into a tall brick alley like the one Hikari had once been attacked in; on two separate occasions, as it were.

Hikari spun around to face him, green eyes glittering with a reflection of the lights over Shizuo's shoulder. "Stop being a baby," she chastised, "Just…can you just, ah, just listen to what I have to say?"

He crossed his arms and stared down at her inexpressibly. "I've never liked anything you've ever said after a sentence like that."

"Well, that's true," she laughed lightly, though the wounds were raw.

Shizuo's brows rose, and he slipped his sunglasses off so she could see just how sceptical he was. He tried not to think about how much he liked her laughter, her rosy cheeks and dimples, which left him with only just enough room for sombreness.

"Sorry, it's too soon to joke about what happened," Hikari blew strands of hair from her lips, "Well? You look serious; does that mean you'll listen?"

"…If I don't like what I hear, I'm just gonna pretend you didn't say anything."

"That's fair." Hikari glanced at him, sharp green eyes that softened and then darted away. She licked her lips. "Maybe you're too serious about this." She muttered.

Shizuo shifted his weight, though the alley wasn't quite roomy enough to move around in. "You said before that it was important."

"Yes, yes, but it's an easier thing to say if you act like you don't care about…about what I, um…"

"Are you nervous?"

Hikari winced – that was definitely hitting the nail on the head. "No." she said.

Shizuo was familiar enough with her ways to realise she was lying blatantly. He smiled a little, shoulders relaxing. "You are." He thought it was cute, the way she fidgeted on the spot and her cheeks began to glow red.

Her fingers were shoved into her pocket, pulling out her phone casually. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, nose turned up haughtily, Hikari stubbornly said, "Well, that's your fault! I don't wanna say it now."

"What-?"

Shizuo's phone chimed, the first three notes, and Hikari burst out laughing. "You big, fat liar!" she blurted out, doubling over, "You said Tom was the one with the Shoko Setsuya ringtone!"

"Shut up," he glowered, pulling his phone from his pocket to check the new message, "…Hikari, why the fuck did you just text me?"

All at once stifling her giggles, and all at once turning redder than she ever had yet, she answered, "Well, I didn't wanna say it out aloud."

She turned to the wall, stared at the graffiti. From the corner of her eye, she watched Shizuo look at her with a disbelieving expression, and then to the phone in his hand. His eyes grew wide, his lips opening slightly, losing breath, forming a soft, "Oh."

Hikari still had her messages open on her own phone, just for one moment before she shoved it back in her pocket. The name of the recipient was one Shizuo Heiwajima – she had yet to think of a suitable nickname for his contact – and the text sent from her to him most recently was four characters long; I love you.

Shizuo took two steps forward and it was enough to close the distance. "Hikari." he leaned down, and she turned towards him. When she looked at him, he realised he didn't have anything to say.

"It's okay," Hikari said, "Just kiss me."

He leant in without touching her. She took it upon herself to reach up, fingers curling into the sleeves of his shirt as she made sure that it was a kiss on the lips and not some cheap cop out. With the way Shizuo made her feel, however, even a kiss on the cheek was worth more than anything to her.

Shizuo's expression didn't change as he pulled away slowly, and he certainly didn't budge from his spot until the very last moment. The only way to tell that he was nervous at all was in the way he jerked himself back around, walking stiffly out of the alley and back onto the street. He almost lost himself in the crowd before remembering to slow his steps just enough for Hikari to catch up.

Sunsets and neon lights filled the skyline and she fell in step with him a moment later.

"So, what do you want for tea?" Shizuo asked, warming to the strangeness of their new relationship.

She bit her lip, glanced around. "Hm, well, it's a nice night. What about eating out instead of ordering in?"

"Do you have some place in mind?"

Hikari was smiling brightly as she answered, "Russia Sushi?"

He pretended to consider it. "That sounds fine." Anywhere with her was fine, really; he was just a little too shy to add that just yet.

But she knew what he meant without Shizuo even saying it. She took a deep breath, lungs full of cigarette smoke and Ikebukuro streets, and Hikari felt more alive than she had in years as his fingers brushed so gently against the bruises on her knuckles that she forgot they were ever even there.

I'm a sucker for romance, so I had to include a taste of the traditional 'I love you's, but I didn't think it realistic, nor in style with the rest of the story, for it to be super, super explicit and full of commitment and drama and fanfare; all that stuff. The events of the story transpired to recently (according to the story's timeline), and in Shizuo's case, love is far, far away for someone like him. It felt forced to have him say it when, truthfully, this story ends when the two are just beginning to test the waters of a proper relationship.

I have been tossing around some ideas for a sequel. I've never written a sequel before. It might not even happen because I'm more talk than anything else. We'll see when the next season of 'Durarara!' comes out, if my inspiration flares again.

I don't really have anything else to add that hasn't been said before. Thank you for favouriting, following, reviewing (especially the reviewing; I love all of you who did so before I finished this story, and for those who might come afterwards), and thank you for reading.

end.