Title: Substitutions.
Author: Heiwajima Shizuo.
Rating: T.
Warning: Swearing, innuendos, a little violence. Rating might go up too.
Summary: After angering Shizuo and getting into a fight with Tsugaru, Izaya and Psyche both switch universes. In the other universe, Izaya meets Tsugaru and in Izaya's universe, Psyche runs into a pissed off Shizuo. Although the informant and debt collector are known to hate each other, what will happen to their feelings after meeting their counter parts? Just what exactly will awaken within two of Tokyo's most dangerous?

Hi, Julia~! I'll go update Anonymous and Love Shuffle for you.

... Later.


A small, four letter word with one syllable.

A straight forward—simple, emotion.

But when one thinks about it, it is always the simple things that are the hardest to understand; it is the simple things that tend to be the most confusing.

Even when something is simple, everyone tends to over look it and what was once simple turns into a whirlpool of confusion. Because we assume there's more to what is in front of us, the assumptions one makes lead to over-thinking. And that over-thinking leads to emotions running high and thoughts one normally would not have.

Our thoughts end up turning on us and we read too far and too much into something so short and so little.

Our minds, that was once a straight path, turns into a maze we end up losing ourselves in. And once we find ourselves there, we wander further and further until we are lost completely. With unknowing eyes, search and search for a way out when really, all we do is push ourselves deeper and deeper in until finally, we find ourselves at the end of our ropes, lost, and unable to continue looking for an exit that may very well not exist.

I did not speak for everyone, but I did speak for myself when I said simplicity was a rather contradictory term because of that.

Nothing is simple. Nothing ever is or was.

But then again, I might have been over-looking this too. Even if I did see myself as a being close to that of a God, there were still many things I did not know and things I was never able to find out.

"A God…" Mumbling to myself, I hugged my legs and burried my face in my knees. After a few moments went by, an errie silence filling my empty ears, I looked up. A few feet away was a window. Sun was shining and I squinted my puffy, tired eyes. The sound of water dripping outside from last night's thunderstorm combined with the sound of birds were singing was heard clearly.

As my emotions seemed to rage inside, everything on the outside seemed so… peaceful. And as dead as I was on the outside, on the inside, I couldn't have been anymore alive. Sitting on Tsugaru's bed in the corner of his room, the only light coming in from outside, I stared at said light that found it's place on the wooden floor. I saw dust floating in mid air and I breathed in deeply, mumbling to myself once more.

"A God."

It was ironic.

A God was a being that everyone loved and who loved everyone in return. Or so they say. But unlike a God, I was not loved. Despite my somewhat cruel, sadistic love I had for all of humanity, there was only one thing I truly loved. And it was this one dense, impulsive, monsterous, protzoan. And at the state I was in at that moment, he was the only thing I loved. My once, gigantic ego had deflated with each tear I shedded the previous night, leaving me left alone with unrequited feelings and self-pity.

I hated myself and never once had I felt so low.

"Have you ever heard the saying, 'you can't love anyone without learning to love yourself?'" Immediately, I cocked my head. Standing in the door way was Tsugaru, calm and relaxed.

Like he ever wasn't.

"Have you?" I shook my head. "Well now you do. Good thing too. It seems like you might need to learn yourself."

"Wait, a second, how did you know I…?" I trailed off weakly. I couldn't keep talking. The sound of my voice filled my ears and I hated it. The power that once flowed out of my mouth disguised as sharp, venomous words was gone and in it's place was something that indicated the vulnerablity I possessed and hid shamefully.

"How did I know what? What you were thinking?"

Leaning against the doorway, his hands stuffed into the sleeves of his blue and white kimono, I stared at him and nodded. I watched with tired eyes as calm cerulean orbs shifted from my miserable figure. He stared for a moment at the birds outside as they chirped their happy song. When he smiled, I cocked my head and found myself looking at two birds perched on the window sill. The two chirruped happily and nuzzeled against each other.

"Love Birds. They say when one dies, it's partner dies too." A somewhat nostalgic look crossed his face and he continued to smile. "This one time, Psyche brought home two of them and one day, the girl bird died. The next day, the male died too. Psyche was so upset."

Tsugaru chuckled, his deepy baritone voice filling my ears.

I grimaced. "Your point? That doesn't answer my question." There was a rather bitter tone in my voice that even I was taken back by.

But Tsugaru, on the other hand, was not. He looked as tranquil as ever, his azure eyes shifting to look at me warmly. "Sorry, I went off topic there. The birds distracted me and—"

"Leave me alone." I interrupted the blonde who stopped instantly, his mouth hanging open slightly in mid-sentence. "I know I do not live here. But to my understanding, you're a man of feelings, correct? Well, as you can see, I am busy being miserable, so if you would excuse me—"

"It's fine. I am sorry for being a bother. But if you may, please, tell me your name. For the most part, I assumed you were Psyche. And it would be wrong of me to continue calling you that."

"Orihara Izaya. Now leave."

"Well, Izaya-san, hopefully you learned something." I completely ignored him. Stealing one more glance at me, Tsugaru stepped into the hallway and closed the door, leaving me alone to drown myself in my sorrow alone. To my surprise, as the footsteps on the other side of the door grew fainter and fainter with each step Tsugaru took, the quicker tears began to fall from my eyes.

Groaning, I leaned into the corner behind me. With my legs in the same, bent position, my arms hung loosely from my sides, I brought a hand to wipe my eyes lazily. What in the world was I crying for? For years, I kept everything to myself and for years I was forced to face this unrequited love by myself; with no one to turn to for comfort.

I was alone.

The only thing that comforted me, though, was the thrill that ran through my body everytime I got Shizuo fired up.

It did hurt to know he would choose anything over being with me, but at least then, when he chased me with that strong fire in his eyes, he'd notice me. Attention was attention. So if the only attention I recieved came in the form of vending machines being hurled at me, then I gladly welcomed it. Even if it was dangerous—Even if it could've killed me, I still wanted it.

I craved for his attention.

He was like a drug and there I was, hooked and desperate.

From the day we met, I knew right then I loved the feeling that ran through me whenever he looked at me.

Like a hopeless drug addict, I just couldn't get enough of him.

"As intelligent as I am, I really am an idiot." I murmured bitterly to myself, bringing my hand to wipe the other side of my face. "I went to extreme lengths just to get him to notice me—I even went as far as to making friends with that annoying brunette he's friends with."

And like a drug I yearned for so blindly, as good as it made me feel when I had it—his complete, angry, and undivided attention—I knew that in the long run, loving him like that was doing me absolutely know good…

Loving him did nothing but stress me out and break me.

Break me to the point where I couldn't fix myself anymore. So, in order to hide all the cracks and missing pieces, I hid myself behind the person most people percieved me to be in high school: egotistical, self-loving, sharped tongue Orihara Izaya. And I've stuck to it ever since. "But now…"

I reached into the jacket of my pocket and pulled out my flick blade. After releasing the sharp steel, I stared at it. The cool metal shined a little from the sun's light and I winced, the bright light burning my tired eyes.

Bringing my blade-free arm up, I clenched my fist and held it in front of my face.

"If you look close enough, their still kind of visible…" I grazed my faded scars with the tip of my blade, smiling bitterly. "'The first cut is the deepest.' Pfft, what idiots. The 10th, 20th, 30th—50th cut is the deepest!"

Leveling my flickblade to my wrist, I pressed down and—


I barely registered the sound of my knife hitting the floor and beed sheets as my vision faded.

Hours turned into days.

Days turned into weeks.

And before I knew it, I found myself in Tsugaru's house for a month. If it wasn't for the fact that I was still breathing, I was practically dead. I stayed there cooped up, day and night, only leaving to sneak a minutes to use the bathroom and shower. Also, I barely ate or slept—I was a complete mess and far from my former self.

I was a wreck and I knew it. And to be honest, I couldn't have cared less.

Knock. Knock.

"Excuse me," But even though I didn't, for some odd reason, there was someone who did. And he, the one who came to the door that I left unlocked and left food for me in the hall, made up for my indifference. "I brought you food. Please, come out and eat it."

"No." I lied on my stomach, my head turned to look at the door behind me. Lying over me, covering me like a warm blanket, was my coat. My eyebrows were furrowed, and I glared at the door.

"Please, eat."


"Why not?" Suddenly, I heard the door open and my eyes widen. While I had isolated myself, I had ended up staining the ones pink, blue, and white bed sheets with my blood.

Not only was it embarrassing, but considering the fact that he brought me food everyday, for breakfast, lunch, and diner, I was more than sure that he would ask about the stains. Using all the strenght I could muster, without straining my most recent cuts, I crumpled up the soft fabric and hid it underneath the bed. I knew it wasn't the best hiding place, but hey, it was worth a shot, right?

"Because, can't you see that I'm tired?" I pretended to yawn. I even lifted my hand up to cover my mouth for added effect.

"What's that?"

"What's what?" I spoke with my hand still covering my mouth. Walking over towards the bed, he carefully set down the tray of food he had brought for me on the floor next to the door. Lazy eyes locking with rather determined blue orbs, he reached forward and grabbed the hand I had over my mouth by the wrist.

I yelped in pain almost instantly, the pressure sending unpleasant jolts to my wrists. Staring at me, I yelled, "What are you doing? Let go of me!"

As much as it had hurt at the moment, I yanked my wrist away. I quickly realized my sleeve had rolled down, revealing my pain, and pulled down on my dark sleeves. "How… Why did you…" He trailed off.




"Please, eat. It's not good for you to starve yourself—"

"Don't tell me what's good for me, you don't even know me—"

"Why are you wasting yourself like this? What are those cuts for?"

"It's just a simple cut, don't worry yourself!"

"But it is the simple things that tend to be the most confusing, I-za-ya-kun." My eyes widened. Enunciating each syllable of my name, I felt my already shattered heart ache.

A/N: Sorry if that was confusing. The first part was the morning after the last chapter for Izaya. And the last part takes time a month after switch with Psyche, like Shizuo's part in the last chapter. So yeah.

Sorry for the mistakes!

Review? ^^~