Yes, this is going to be a multi-chapter story.
Lighting streaks through the sky, a low growl from thunder is not far behind. Rain spills from the angry gray clouds, renewing the empty streets of Ikebukuro.
There are but two figures, untouched by exhaustion, flit through the vacant city. A clap of thunder vibrates through the desolate streets, but the men pay no heed, focused on the on the chase, the hunt, and hopefully then the kill.
The information broker wears an arrogant smirk as he slinks through the labyrinths of buildings. He sprints effortlessly on the sleek sidewalk, glossy with rain. His mind is fast and calculating, his eyes are sharp as they dart from side to side.
He misses nothing, not the illumination of light through the streets, guiding him through neither the storm, nor the blinding rain as it pelts him, stinging his eyes as he jets through the deserted city.
Izaya listens to the music of the storm, hearing it swing out into a staggering forte before dissolving into an almost inaudible drizzle. He hears the decrescendo of thunder barking in the distance and the hiss of lighting dancing across the bland gray ceiling.
He hears the torrent of rain pommeling the sold ground, and the steady pulse of his feet hitting ground, matched by the reliable thud of Shizuo running.
Izaya pushes himself faster, weaving his way around a corner, wanting to keep a safe five meters between them. The world blurs by him, colorless buildings merging as he flew past them. A snarl of thunder that sounds a bit like Shizuo howling his name urges him on, and he glides effortlessly around a corner, neatly swinging into a curve.
Izaya feel his shoes skid on the rain soaked sidewalk, and he uses its momentum, catching himself on a wall of a building. He presses himself up against the wall, flattening himself, hiding himself in the shadows, wanting to morphed into the wall and disappear and leave the world wondering how he did it.
He fingered the blade in his sleeve, imagining it lodge into Shizuo's chest, then Izaya lazily dragging it through his ribcage, piercing lungs and slicing flesh, a spurt of blood rewarding his efforts, gushing down his victim's front and the gleam of pearly white bones as they jutted out in unnatural angles.
He anticipates Shizuo's arrival, imagining him glide ungracefully on the wet ground, straight into Izaya's knife and at Izaya's mercy. Or maybe he would try to turn sharp and fall flat on his face, leaving his back vulnerable, he would pounce, thrusting his blade in as deep as it would go, streams of crimson oozing from the wound.
A relentless roll of thunder builds up as it has its way with the city battering everything in its wake. Light blazes through the sky, and the thunder purrs, rumbling up from deep within and pouring out into the open air. The rain cascades endlessly, bubbling and swirling in little eddies as it floods the streets, overwhelming the gutters.
Each round bead, so delicate, but with enough force, they can destroy lives. He blinked rain out of his eyes, cursing the ceaseless torrent of water for distracting him. Where was Shizu-chan? What was taking so long? He waited a few more heartbeats, curiosity getting the better of him. What was Shizu-chan planning this time?
How interesting, Shizuo seemed more of a straight-forward kind of guy, never one for strategies or patience, for that matter. Izaya cautiously peers out from his hiding spot, craning his neck and struggling to see through the sheets of rainfall. He hesitantly took a step out, his whole body dedicated to the alert, ready to go at any moment.
He searched for the bartender through the downpour, trying to select the slightest movement other than the fall of the never ending precipitation. He finds nothing in the thick shower. He is tense, ready to dart back into his hiding place at even the slightest hint of activity. But there is nothing. And then he is suddenly aware of the loud silence.
The rain dipping into a soft drizzle, but the storm was far from over. If Izaya was naïve, he would think that he was the only being out there for miles. It certainly felt that way. The hush is only occupied by the constant shower. Izaya snorted. The brute probably got lost.
But then, the thunder cackles ominously in the distance, as if it were laughing at Izaya's thoughts, chiding him for believing he got off easy. Suddenly, the sky flares, and lightning strikes overhead too close for Izaya's liking. It ignites the sky, shedding enough light so that he could just see… a figure in the distance.
The hair on the back of his neck stood up as it did when the fortissimo of Ikubukuro was near. That was what he liked about Shizuo. He was the only one that did that to him. He watches the figure tear a stop sign from the ground as if he was plucking a weed in a garden. What did that stupid protozoan think he was doing?
Their eyes meet for a split second, and it is all the warning Izaya needs. He lets the flick blade fall into his hand, ready to wield it. The next moments are set in slow motion. Izaya bends his knees ever so slightly, preparing to dodge and dash off into his chosen escape route. Shizuo lunges, throwing his arm forward his mouth stretched into a yell that is met by deaf ears.
And then it happens. Izaya's blood runs cold and his smug grin falters for a moment and he is helpless to do anything but watch. A burst of light shoots from the sky and attaches itself to the pole conducting its self-down into the brute. Shizuo's fingertips still grazing the pole, the white light catches onto him and envelopes him in a beam of concentrated electricity.
Izaya stiffens and his eyes widen a fraction. Izaya holds his breath as he watches in mutual horror and sick fascination as the fortissimo of Ikubukuro crumbles before him. Shizuo folds into himself, his lets buckling underneath him. Izaya can see the whites of his eyes as the brute collapses, limbs splayed out carelessly like broken twigs.
Izaya snaps out of it, stumbling backward, catching himself on the wall. He closes his eyes, but he cannot block the look on Shizuo's face. That look of panic that lingered in his eyes in the moment before it morphed into one of someone who knew they were about to die.
He is suddenly aware of the silence once more, he can heart it through his thumping heartbeat, which he was almost sure was audible by now.
It sends shudders down his spine, Shizuo was not coming after him, he was not going to get up and roar into the water filled sky and shake it all off like it was nothing. Izaya forces himself out of his daze, making himself relax, letting his breath go.
It forms wispy clouds in the already moist air. Izaya stays rooted to the spot, though he knows he should move, go check on his rival, get help, run away, do something.
He shakily picked up his foot, placing it in front of him, shifting his weight and dragged himself over to Shizuo lethargically. He knew that Shizuo's life was on the line and he could lose him. And Shizuo was probably spending his last moments on earth while Izaya was taking his time.
Izaya stopped abruptly faced with a choice that would prove to be a tough one.
He could do one of two things, leave the brute in the storm, where he would surely die, leaving the task of discovering his corpse to some other unlucky soul. Then they can stumble upon him when the storm finally subsided, drenched and cold and without a doubt dead. Izaya knew he would be framed, but he wasn't worried, he knew the police couldn't touch him. He even had an alibi this time, he couldn't control nature.
He could flee now and get off with nothing but the guilt of knowing that did nothing. That there was a possibility, no matter how small it may be, that Shizuo was with the living but Izaya didn't give him a chance before he left him for dead.
Or the final option, he could go check on his rival, to make sure he was dead and if he wasn't…What then? Kick a man when he's down and take him out of his misery, or call the hospital and let them take care of it?
The thought of calling Shinra and letting him patch Shizuo up without the cost was tempting, but he quickly dismissed it. There was no way for Shinra to get out here in this horrible storm and that all depended on if the stupid protozoan was still living or not…
But Izaya knew what the danger of moving him was, it was a crucial job. One mistake could tip the balance between life and death, there was a thin line between life and death, and this would be like smothering that silver lining, erasing all hope that there would be a tomorrow.
His chances of living were dancing on the edge of a razorblade. One slip up could lead to disaster.
Izaya makes a decision, telling himself it was only out of the sheer hate he felt for the man, reviving him and getting him help just so he could find the right time to kill him, right when he was at his strongest. Izaya pushes himself forward, shoving aside the heavy dread that was crippling his heart.
The air is charged with a nervous energy, and it makes Izaya sick.
He tells himself that if the he was right, and the bartender was really dead, then he could leave and it would be fine because Izaya did all he could, and not even he could bring back the dead. Izaya chokes in air, willing himself to breathe, wishing that Celty was out on her daily rounds so this would be her problem and she could deal with this instead.
The information broker slowly eased himself onto the ground next to Shizuo. Taking in his pale face, pushed to the side after it slammed against the pavement. Izaya knew he had to make the next move, and check the pulse.
Just do it He told himself. His instincts screamed at him to get away, that it was not safe for him to be this close to anyone, especially not the man that was out to kill him.
Izaya was reluctant to touch him, expecting him to snap back into life and smash the informant into the wall, effectively killing him upon impact. The death would be quick and painless and Izaya would die a death fit for a fool, the image of Shizuo's angry eyes burned into inside of his eyelids.
He the touched the blade in his sleeve, reassuring himself with its cool surface under his warm fingertips. He let it fall into his hand, just in case… He was prepared to use it to its full extent, wielding it with the expert touch that only he possessed…
Because he always had to expect the unexpected, he always had to be on edge, ready with an answer for every question that should arise. That was what his years of associating with his humans have taught him, it was a lesson he dared not forget.
The downpour fades into the background and it is replaced by the blood roaring in his ears. Static electricity snaps through the sky with a crack and the information broker shivers. Hesitantly, the informant pressed his fingers to Shizuo's neck, not knowing what he wanted.
He struggles to keep a tight rein on his composure as he kneels over his enemy. He took rash, light breathes, heaving in air in a hope that some of it would reach his lungs.
The air is poisonous with anticipation. He tries to even out his fluttering heartbeat and wills himself to channel his full attention to the daunting task ahead. The moments pass slowly and soon, Izaya admits defeat.
He is about to pull back, but a dull thump is felt beneath his fingertips. He almost thinks he imagined it, but then it is felt again, as if to assure him that there was still hope.
Izaya's heart both soared and plummeted for reasons he did not know. Now he was responsible for whatever happened to Shizuo. His tight shoulders relax a fraction and he knows he would never have lived with himself if he had chosen to flee.
The knowledge would weigh him down; the thoughts would torment him, swirling around in his head and granting him no peace. They would have claimed every waking moment he had, he would be replaying the moments in his head like a horror movie where he could not rewind.
How he left Shizuo in the storm even though there was a chance that he could have been alive and breathing. If he had done something, anything to help, it could have made a difference. Shizuo had at least half a chance but Izaya didn't take it and because of that he was dead.
He knew that if their places had been swapped, Shizuo would have done whatever he could for his rival. Because Shizuo was like that, and the two of them together, were the greatest of combinations. Shizuo would have never given up on him; Shizuo never gives up on anyone.
He didn't know if he could forgive himself, because contrary to popular belief, he was never sure if he really wanted to kill Shizuo, manipulate and push his buttons yes, but killing was going a little far. He just wanted to throw obstacles at him and see how far he could push himself.
He shook that train of thought from his mind, Shizuo was not dead, he was not going to die, and there was no way Izaya would feel such remorse for the man who yearned for his end.
But a silky voice, purrs in his head, telling him that Shizuo was laying right there in front of him, so close to death that all he needed was a little push off the edge and he would be gone from existence forever. And Izaya was just the man to ensure that he was dead.
The opportunity was right there in front of him, the knife in his hand, and all he had to do was take the plunge and it would all be over. He knew that if he left now he would be guaranteeing the death of Shizuo, but he could not get himself to move. He could not turn his back. He would not run away from someone who needed him.
With a sigh, Izaya pocketed his knife, and took out his phone. The raindrops slithered down the bright screen like tear drops, and Izaya brushed them off, smudging the screen with more water as it continually tumbled down from the sky.
He dialed the simple numbers leisurely, taking his time in pressing each one. He sighed, putting the phone to his ear.
This was where things would get complicated. There would be questioning, and maybe even an investigation, because there was no way anyone would believe him. He did make a living off of lying, after all. Then people would wonder and rumors would spread and the real fun would begin.
Izaya makes himself comfortable next to his longtime enemy, prepared to wait out the storm that rages above their heads. Izaya thought back on the past events that have taken such a drastic turn, and soon the night is alit with blaring sirens and glaring lights.
He does not stay long, silently sinking back into the shadows, right where he belonged.