
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10817337.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Major_Character_Death,
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Durarara!!
  Relationship:
      Heiwajima_Shizuo_&_Orihara_Izaya, Orihara_Izaya/Kida_Masaomi
  Character:
      Orihara_Izaya, Kida_Masaomi, Heiwajima_Shizuo
  Additional Tags:
      Rape, Torture, Mild_Gore, Hurt_No_Comfort, Angst, Yakuza, Scary_Yakuza,
      Revenge, Nightmare_Fuel, of_various_kinds
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-06-11 Chapters: 4/4 Words: 7964
****** Hard Surface ******
by orphan_account
Summary
     Kida sets Izaya up to be tortured and raped by the yakuza because of
     what had happened to Saki. After it's over Izaya attempts to piece
     himself back together.
     Rape!fic. Disturbing.
     /I have rewritten the beginning but I think the amount of work this
     requires in the middle part is not worth it in the end. If you're
     interested, read the remaining chapters on the Kink Meme (link is in
     the beginning note)
Notes
     An old fic from the DRRR Kink Meme.
     The original link: http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/
     1786.html?thread=2603258#t2603258
     It includes references to the yakuza factions and some events from
     Wild Adapter but it's not really a crossover fic.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Are there lines one shouldn’t cross?
Izaya never concerned himself with morality. He didn’t kill people and there
were a few additional things he didn’t do with his own hands. But if it was
someone else doing his bidding or certain circumstances resulting in certain
outcomes, why not. He liked to watch humans do things to themselves, even
unsavory things. And his amusement was more important than their well-being
anyway.
---
“You have this uyoku dantai vibe going here, I see. Is this just a front?” The
man asked, looking around the office, admiring the decor.
“I wouldn’t mind carrying a katana on a daily basis.” The other man answered.
”Aren’t these a waste just stuck on the walls? I can hear how they're screaming
for blood.” He sounded serious, if amused. His voice had a certain sinister
undertone to it.
“But that is not what this movement is about. So I guess it’s just a front?”
The man shrugged. “Right now, sure, it’s time to spill blood. Because of what
happened to your organization…?”
“No, I meant in general. But as for this unfortunate incident, please give me
something that I can use. Waltzing into a yakuza office and killing twelve
higher ups and then leaving undisturbed shouldn’t end well for anyone.”
“I found out things. Sadly, the direct perpetrator is off limits. Family ties.
Even though he’s illegitimate. I won’t give you his identity or any details to
make sure no accidents befall him in the near future, too. I’ve heard how you
were.”
“Shall I kill you instead, then?”
“It doesn’t have to come to that. Someone obviously leaked the information
about the meeting. We looked throughout our information network, roughened up a
few people. We had an informant who acted up some time ago, he was stabbed
already to get him back in line. But we suspect what he actually did is he sold
Izumo-kai the information about the meeting and also the floor plan of the
headquarters, probably to get back at us. He must not value his life very
highly. Or he thinks we’re some kind of idiots.”
“Well, that’s something. But isn’t he already gone after doing something like
that?”
“No, he’s around. Though he’s quite cautious.”
“Then, how do I find him?”
---
Izaya was back. Despite having been stabbed hard enough to end up at the
hospital he looked none the worse for wear.
"What?" He looked up from his MacBook's screen after Kida had been staring at
him for what felt like minutes.
"Nothing.” Kida shrugged. “I was just wondering if you were fine already after
your... accident."
"It's been a month. Of course it healed. But I appreciate your concern,
Masaomi-kun. Also, do you mean you want to see the scar? You only needed to
ask. Here." He proceeded to stand up and pull his shirt up. A barely healed
gash crossed over his stomach. It was long and quite deep. Taut muscles could
be seen under the scarred skin.
Kida looked away.
"I'm starting to like it at this point." Izaya confessed, running his fingers
over the length of the scar. "I think it makes me look more manly. Do you want
to touch it?"
"No, thanks. I'd rather not."
"You thought I would change after this." Izaya pointed out. He pulled his shirt
down and hooked his thumbs behind his belt. "Change how, I wonder. I did
miscalculate some things. That's why I ended up like this. I'm not going to
make the same mistake twice, though, so that's one change. And if anything, I
was reminded how wonderful humans are. They always manage to surprise me when I
least expect it."
"It seems you like surprises a lot then, Izaya-san. Even if they hurt."
"So be it." Izaya shrugged. "I can take a cut like this or a few broken bones
just fine. Of course, I'd avoid it if there is a way."
"You're so awesome."
"Don't mock me, Masaomi. Unless you want me to mock you back. Anyway, I have
something for you to do other than staring at me."
Kida accepted his next job. He hated working for Izaya after what had happened
to Saki a year ago but he was also forced to do it because her medical
treatment was costly and never-ending and she didn’t have any family that could
pay for it and this was the best paying job he could get. He persevered because
the whole thing had been his fault anyway. But one day, he was going to be done
with it and make Izaya pay for all this humiliation.
Later in the day, confronted by a group of bosozoku on the street, tokofuku
jackets, flags, bikes and all, he gripped the knife in his pocket tightly,
thinking how if he died, it was going to be over for Saki, too.
“No need to get so jumpy.” Their captain showed him his empty hands. “We just
want to make a deal."
"What kind of a deal?" Kida asked tentatively.
"You're in contact with Orihara Izaya, aren't you?”
“Maybe.”
“We were asked to approach you so you’d arrange a meeting with him in a
convenient location in the city for some people. You will be paid of course,
better than he pays you."
“He would be pissed.” Kida pointed out.
"He won't be anything after they're through with him. And certainly not a
danger to you. On the other hand, if you oppose us now, which wouldn’t be very
smart..."
It seemed Izaya still had enemies out and about.
“What do you want from him?”
"Certain people will dispose of him. Isn't that to be expected? He's been
playing out of his league lately. And he wasn't even deterred by an easily
understandable warning."
“What kind of money?”
The bosozoku showed him a slip of paper, the amount scribbled on it.
“They’re yakuza.” He added. “They’ll make it seem like it comes from reputable
sources.”
A terrifying weight settled in Kida’s stomach. His hate for Izaya, repressed on
a daily basis, was allowed to expand beautifully under such circumstances.
"I will set him up for you.” He agreed. “But there’s something I’d like to ask
for. Break his right leg before it's over." He said in a frighteningly cold
voice. "And if these people feel any inclination to do something like that,
rape him.” Kida didn’t know where that came from. But months of listening to
Saki’s screams of ‘no’ whenever she had her nightmares twisted him into a
person who would do something like that. “He arranged for such a thing to
happen to my girlfriend. Even though it was a year ago, she's still crippled to
this day. It's never going to be the same for him as it must have been for a
fifteen-year old girl, but..."
“It’s good there’s such bad blood between you two.” The captain smiled. “But I
still need to point out: don’t try to warn him or we will rape that girl of
yours again ourselves, Kida Masaomi-kun.”
---
There was something fishy about Kida suddenly wanting to meet him out of the
office, Izaya thought. But it wasn’t as if such a thing hadn't happened before.
Besides, if he was to become afraid to walk around the city, he might've as
well died or at least changed his job.
He pocketed two cell phones, his switchblade and a Beretta before going out of
the office, waving Namie goodbye. He'd only started carrying a gun after he'd
been stabbed and only on occasions when he felt like there was any chance he'd
need it. He didn't have much appreciation for guns. Slower to use than a knife,
more bothersome, too, drew too much attention. Not to mention the trouble with
the police if they found one. But if he was ever going to kill someone with his
own hands, it was going to be by gunshot. He didn't have it in him to slit
someone's throat with a knife, no matter how many times he'd promised this
exact fate to Shizu-chan.
He took the Yamanote Line train to his destination and called Kida as he was
exiting the station.
"Are you there already, Masaomi-kun?" He asked in a cheerful voice.
"Yes. Do you want me to get you something?"
"No, I prefer to buy my own drinks, what with all the spiking going around."
"See you in a while, then." Kida hang up.
It was then that Izaya felt the cold metal touch the side of his head.
"Be..." Whoever put a gun to his head opened his mouth to speak, but was
rendered speechless by the feeling of Izaya's own gun pushed into his ribcage.
"Let me go." Izaya demanded calmly, scanning his surroundings. He was suddenly
very alert. Very alive.
There was a street camera overseeing the train station exit but a blue balloon
tangled in the wires next to it was clearly blocking its view. The street was
pretty much empty. Behind his back there were elevated voices resounding down
at the station. The exit behind him seemed to have been blocked by a brawl.
He heard steps approaching him from behind.
"I will shoot you if you move. Even if you will do the same." The voice at his
side informed him and the barrel pushed against the side of his head.
"Drop the gun." Another gun was driven into his back right behind where his
heart was.
"Ok, let's talk."
He didn't get the chance to talk. As soon as he let go of the Beretta, a blow
to the side of his head made him fall to the pavement unconscious.
---
The back of his skull hitting something so hard his teeth rattled was what woke
him up. He tried to sit down instinctively but he could only move so much with
his hands tied down to the table he was lying on.
He put his head back down gently and looked around the room. The ceiling was
high above and the room was immense. There was nothing in it and it didn't seem
to have windows. It must have been a warehouse of some kind. There were people
all around him in the badly lit interior. Some of them were smoking. The rest
just looked bored. The clothes - flashy tracksuits or fancy suits, some of them
striped, indicated yakuza. Izaya didn't like it one bit.
"Oh look, the princess is awake."
"What do you want?" Izaya asked calmly. He wondered where he was and how much
time must have passed and if Kida was still waiting for him.
"First and foremost, we want to give you highest regards from our employer.
He's amazed with your resilience. Even after what has happened to you, you're
still around causing trouble and didn’t even exhibit enough good sense to run
away.”
"I feel honored."
"You should. Other than that we were asked to retrieve some information from
you."
"How much would it cost to have me untied while I deliver it to you?" Izaya's
eyes darted around the room again. Both of his phones and the switchblade as
well as his wallet, two ballpens, a pack of condoms and a pair of rubber gloves
- everything there was to take out from his pockets - was lying on an
overturned plastic case a few feet away from him. He couldn’t see his gun
anywhere. The phones were intact though which was a good sign
"We were already paid pretty handsomely for having you tied up in the first
place." An amused voice informed him.
"I understand you being yakuza and all, but if your employer is paying you for
kidnapping me so I can give him information, why can't he strike a deal with me
directly and buy it from me?”
"Because you know of no such thing as an exclusive deal. You betraying our
employer, that just wouldn't do."
Izaya twisted his hand slightly, trying the ropes. They didn't budge.
"Who is your employer anyway?"
A few of the men surrounding him laughed out loud.
"As if we would tell you. We are not teenage punks from a street gang who beat
up middle-schoolers for fun, Orihara Izaya-kun. We're serious men here. And
please treat us accordingly unless you want your pretty little head bashed
against that table again."
One of them approached. Izaya overcame the need to scoot away when he dropped
the ash from his cigarette on him.
"We will be asking questions now. And you will be answering. No mind games. No
fucking around. If I'm not happy with what you're going to say... give me that
knife..." Izaya's own switchblade was placed in the man's hand. "Which leg did
he tell us to break again? Right? I will make a cut right here." The man
pointed Izaya's right thigh with the tip of the knife.
Izaya wasn't happy about his situation. He wasn't happy about it at all. He'd
made a mistake again, there, out on the street. He hadn't even tried screaming,
running away or beating up the guy who had held him at gunpoint. Then again,
these guys weren't amateurs and there were quite a few of them. It was better
to be tied up here than to die from a gunshot to the head.
At the very least, he hadn't been underestimated and mocked by sending some
kids after him. On the other hand, he would have preferred to fight his way
through kids who wouldn't have probably thought of tying him up before
attempting to hurt him than to be lying down like that. His legs weren't tied,
though. It was what he needed to concentrate on.
"First things first. We'd like to know the exact location and the access codes
of your office in Shinjuku."
His address? Did they mean to raid his office? Izaya opened his mouth to lie.
"I'm calling a friend who will check it all as we speak so don't even bother
lying..."
The kick took the man by surprise. The cell phone he'd been holding in his hand
soared into the air before landing on the concrete floor, falling apart into
small pieces.
"You probably think it was a smart thing to do." The man growled into Izaya's
face, pressing the blade to his jugular.
Izaya had the nerve to smirk at him.
"I told you what I was going to do to you and I meant it." He poised the knife
over Izaya's thigh before plunging it down for a deep cut. He smiled and licked
his lips. "I like it how you're not screaming. At least my men can relax." He
twisted the knife a bit before pulling it out. "That should stop you from
kicking. Let me repeat my question..."
The yakuza looked at Izaya's face critically. He'd bit his lip so hard it was
bleeding to keep himself from screaming.
So, despite the pretty face and the fur fringed coat, the little informant was
acting like a man. It made the yakuza feel better. The right conduct of the
victim was all it took to make killing honorable.
"The address and the access code."
"I won't tell you anything. If I make it possible to get anything from me
without paying..." Izaya didn't have time to spill the rest of the phrase
through his bloodied lips before he was cut again. And again.
"I don't want your commentary. Answer my questions."
"He's pretty tough not to even whimper through something like this." Another
yakuza approached and commented conversationally, pointing to the cuts on
Izaya's thigh with the tip of his cigarette. "Maybe you're doing something
wrong, boss."
"No, I don't think so. He just goes on believing we'll let him go and come back
paying if he doesn't give us what we want for free. But he's miscalculating,
isn't he? We don't need his information so fucking much. We weren't hired to
extract it either. It was just a little job on the side. He doesn't want to
spare himself some pain by cooperating? So be it."
The man plunged the knife into Izaya's leg again. Only then, Izaya started to
scream.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Izaya was swept by a sudden revelation that he might die here. Even the cuts on
his thigh, now four of them, if left untreated and bleeding were probably
enough to kill him through blood loss. And it didn't seem like the yakuza were
stopping. What were they ordered to do?
He didn't want to die. Not now. The Dullahan’s head was waiting for him at his
office, his sleeping Valkyrie who was going to wake up soon and give him
eternal life. He could not die.
He was hit across the face. Only with the pain registering in his cheek he
realized he must have been screaming like a slaughtered animal all this time.
But the pain in his leg was starting to dull now that the knife was removed. An
adrenaline rush dulled it for the time being. He was glad for that because else
he wouldn't have been able to think. And he needed to think of a way out
urgently.
"Not as talkative anymore, are you?"
"What are you going to do?" Izaya forced out through his damaged lips. His
throat was now hoarse from screaming.
"So eager to know. Kill you." The younger yakuza accompanied his words with a
mock gunshot with his fingers pointed at his head.
"No matter how much you were paid for this, I will pay you more if you release
me." Izaya tried bribing them, all the while fighting with the ropes that were
holding him down. He didn't take into account that he was no longer in any
condition to fight or to get away even if he freed his arms. He just wanted
them free. "I mean it. I have a lot of money."
"It wouldn't take a lot to pay for your sorry little life, I don't think so."
The older man commented. "If we took your money though, and let you go, what do
you think would have happened to us in a few days? You wouldn't have lived much
longer, either. You should have thought about protection beforehand if you had
money to spare. But no, you thought you could answer to no one and only work
for your own profit. And look where that ends for you. And stop fidgeting like
that. You won't loosen up those ropes. Nice knife, by the way. Allow me to keep
it as a souvenir." The man proceeded to wipe the blood off it on Izaya's coat
before pocketing it. "Also, we got a special request from a friend of yours. He
wanted us to break your right leg for him. I think we can humor him."
"Where are your smart remarks now?" The other yakuza asked mockingly.
"You mean Kida..." Izaya whispered more to himself than to the men around him.
"So he wanted revenge for Saki." The depth of Kida's hate for him amazed him.
The boy had apparently not only handed him over to yakuza but also asked them
for a favor while at it. Even in Izaya’s dire situation, humans never failed to
amaze him. He started laughing because suddenly it all seemed to be a really
bad joke.
"I think he's losing his mind."
"I don't care."
The bat crashed down onto the already badly damaged thigh. Izaya wasn't
looking, he kept his eyes firmly shut. But he heard the sickening sound of a
broken bone resounding inside him and it was bad enough. His nails dug into his
palms and he clenched his teeth so hard he thought he was going to break them
all.
The yakuza repeated the movement a bit higher up his thigh for good measure
with the same consequence of a bone splintering to pieces.
"That's enough."
A cold barrel was pushed into the side of his head again.
"You should be thanking us. It will stop hurting after you die."
Izaya wanted to protest. Pain didn't bother him nearly as much as lack of
existence. But he could not speak anyway anymore. The sound of breaking bones
echoing in his head and the light-headedness from blood loss combined to make
him start to lose consciousness.
Then one of his phones rang and he was immediately alert. The gun was withdrawn
away from his head.
The ring caused a small commotion among the yakuza. The phone had been turned
off and yet it rang. It was a nifty little trick.
In the end, the man who had cut his leg retrieved the phone and shoved it to
Izaya's face.
"Whoever it is, tell them everything’s fine."
"Hi, Namie-san. Yes, I'm okay... I know. Tell Shizu-chan to come where..." The
phone was dropped to the floor and stepped on.
"What do you think you're doing?!" The back of his head was gripped tightly
only to be bashed against the table again. And again. And again.
"He told someone to come here?"
"He may be tracing all his calls. Still, it couldn't have been long enough..."
Izaya smiled to himself despite the back of his head starting to bleed and
exploding with pain. He was not tracing his calls. Rather, his phones pinged
their location back to the office continuously as long as they were in one
piece and could get an internet connection. They were hacked. Even turning them
off didn’t stop this from happening. Though a smart person would have removed
the batteries.
He hoped Namie understood now he was in danger. The only thing left for him to
do was to stay alive long enough to be saved. That must have been... depending
on where he was, half an hour, an hour, a few hours… Then pay Namie for the
effort. And she was going to demand half of what he had overall or some such
nonsense.
"That's it. I don't care if someone's coming for him or not. All they are going
to find will be his dead body anyway."
He was at gunpoint again.
"I'm afraid that's it for you, Orihara."
"Wait." A voice he hadn't previously heard spoke up. It had a certain sinister
undertone to it that caught Izaya’s wavering attention instantly, if
fleetingly. “This bosozoku I've sent to talk to his employee said the kid
wanted us to rape him when he reported back. That is quite amusing, actually.”
“Everyone knows you’re not right in the head but what kind of an idea would
that be?”
Izaya had no clue anymore what they were talking about, his brain not
processing their words. But it was good they were talking. He needed to stay
alive for a bit more.
"Because someone can come in here while you're at it and kill you all like a
bunch of ducks with a sniper rifle..."
"I'm willing to take the risks." A hand petted Izaya's bloodied scalp. "Besides
if he really caused a fifteen year old girl to end up just like this, he
doesn't deserve to die a peaceful death."
"Isn't he proof enough to you that playing God is dangerous?"
"Do what you want. We're leaving."
"And use a condom. The little scoundrel may have caught some STDs."
"Aren't they great friends?" The voice asked Izaya from up close. "Do you hope
someone will come here and save you? Do you want to live long enough to take
this chance? We'll give you that time. And in exchange, you'll be a nice little
whore."
Izaya opened his eyes, working through the pain in his temples. He looked
around. Only a few of the yakuza, a dozen at most, were left in the spacious
room. All of them were carrying machine guns though.
"I hope you're okay with my offer because I'm not really asking for your
consent." The voice spoke again.
A rough hand gripped Izaya's chin and forced his mouth open. A gun was shoved
into his mouth. His eyes widened.
"I'm not going to fire it. See? The safety's on. Just make it nice and wet."
Izaya thought about struggling. Trying to break the ropes. Kicking. Screaming.
Biting down on the barrel in his mouth so hard he'd break his teeth. Choking on
his own blood. Begging the yakuza to kill him instead.
It all crossed his mind before he got a hold of himself. He needed time. If
only he had time he was going to live. He didn't take into account that nobody
was going to come save him, that they would be too late, that he wouldn't live
through his injuries, that whoever came was going to die too. He just wanted to
live.
He started sucking on the metal in his mouth the best he could in his
condition.
"I bet your friend whom you called for would have liked to see you now. You're
clinging to life so desperately. In the end, you have no courage at all."
The gun was removed from his mouth.
The man proceeded to pull off Izaya’s pants, ripping apart his injured leg
while at it. Izaya struggled to pull his head up to look at it. It was but a
bloody piece of meat, nothing that would resemble a human appendage.
He nearly fainted before the sharp pain of his legs being forced apart brought
him back to consciousness.
"Holy fuck, he's throwing up."
He was pulled to his side roughly, the ropes on his wrists tightening and
cutting off circulation in his hands. The vomit dripped from his mouth, the
acidic smell hitting his nostrils making him want to vomit some more.
"He must have a concussion."
"You are going to fuck a corpse, boss. And I don’t see the appeal."
"Not something I haven’t done before either. Bothersome if rigor mortis sets
in. But there's nothing to worry about in his case. He won't die just yet. The
will to live is an amazing thing. Isn't it, Orihara-san?"
A dry finger, then two were pushed into his entrance. The pain didn't even
register in his mind, blurred out by the burn in his leg and the feeling of
bones grating on each other inside. But when the cold barrel, barely slicked by
his saliva was pushed inside him in one forceful stroke everything else
suddenly disappeared.
The scream that erupted from Izaya's throat then was so non-human it haunted
those who had heard it and lived to tell about it to the end of their lives.
The gun was finally buried inside him as far as the barrel would go. Blood was
oozing out around it.
Izaya was past reason. Between his non-human shrieks and the blood spewing from
his mouth he didn't really look fuckable.
"Has he bit off his tongue?"
The young yakuza smiled at the display before removing the gun.
"Hey, don't black out on us like that. I want you to feel something." He patted
Izaya's cheek. Izaya blinked, a little bit of sanity coming back to his eyes.
"You're going to fuck him?" The other yakuza asked incredulously.
"Why not? Don't you think there is more beauty in being someone's last than
someone's first?"
The man proceeded to pull out his erection.
"After me, nobody else will touch him ever again."
"Hurry up, will you? Before someone really comes for him."
"I'll be done in a minute."
The other yakuza laughed at the comment.
A hard length was pushed between the torn walls of his entrance. He didn't
care. His ruined body might have been lying there, cooling down even as it was
being fucked, but his mind was elsewhere. He was observing his surroundings
with certain otherworldly clarity. He was the first to see him entering the
room. His tortured hands felt the vibration of his steps.
He smiled up at the man who spilled his seed inside him. His smile might have
looked far too gone to the outsiders, but it was a cunning smile of the one who
had won, in fact.
The yakuza withdrew from him and reached for the gun at his side. He pointed it
at Izaya's head and started to pull the trigger.
And then the sea of fire opened up and swallowed everything.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Rage didn't cut what Shizuo felt. No word described it, in fact. He got a call
from a woman who said she was Izaya's secretary. She told him to come meet
Izaya at some shady location or other. Actually, she paid Celty to pick him up,
too. What was the flea planning, Shizuo wondered. He went along with it because
Izaya was probably up to no good and he wanted to spoil his glorious plans.
What Shizuo found at his destination managed to exceed all his expectations. He
was assaulted by yakuza members with machine guns instantly and he only managed
to shelter himself thanks to ripping the large metal door off its hinges as
soon as he arrived.
He crushed the yakuza guys with the door before proceeding inside the
warehouse. There were a few more yakuza there but Shizuo was prepared this time
around and swept them off their feet one by one before they had time to fire
their weapons. His eyes caught sight of something red. He turned around to look
closely.
And promptly, he threw up on the floor.
There was someone, a human being, tied down to a table that was covered in
blood - so much blood it was dripping off it in rivulets and forming puddles on
the concrete floor. He'd never seen anything like that before. He made a step
in the direction of that table. He spotted the black hair, the pale face, there
was something eerily familiar about it, too. His head was starting to hurt.
A gun was pointed at him but he didn't even care. He gripped the barrel and
ripped it out of the other man's hand. He let it fall to the floor and looked
at his hand. Now it too was covered in blood.
When another man attacked him, a blade glinting in his hand, Shizuo didn't even
register his own move. All he was seeing was red. He heard a crack. He looked
at his hand. He looked at the man his hand was holding. He was like a doll.
Actually, his head was turned the wrong way. There was just something wrong
with him.
Shizuo let the body fall down to the floor. That was how he killed a man for
the first time. Mindlessly.
He approached the table. His hand found Izaya's bloodied fingers without the
guidance from his mind.
"You came, Shizu-chan." A barely there whisper confirmed the identity of this
bloody shadow of a human being as Izaya. Shinra was not going to be enough for
that.
Shizuo called an ambulance and lit up a cigarette to keep the nausea at bay. He
figured he should probably leave before he was arrested for murder. But he
couldn't bring himself to abandon someone in Izaya’s condition.
What had the flea gotten himself into this time? Why wasn't he on top in the
end, like always? Was he going to die?
Shizuo felt a pang of something unpleasant in his chest.
Could what was left at that table be pieced back together to remind the Izaya
he knew again, he wondered.
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Izaya woke up to excruciating pain enveloping pretty much all of his body. He
tried to make sense of it. It flared with greater intensity in his right leg
and the back of his skull, but as he tried to move his hand, it was instantly
directed to his fingers with full force.
He opened his eyes. A hospital. So he did it. If nothing else, the pain proved
that he was still very much alive.
"I told you it was going to wake him up." Mairu smiled at him. "I'm sorry I've
put a finger up your nose, Iza-nii, but you've been sleeping for a while and I
thought you might not be exactly happy with what's been going on around here
so... Actually, there are two policemen guarding your door." She whispered into
his ear. "We were told you've had a run-in with the yakuza and that they've
tortured you. Is it true? You certainly look the part."
"You shouldn't come here." Izaya forced through his hoarse throat.
"What do you mean we shouldn't come here! We've got a call from the police
asking us to come identify you so we came. Kuru-nee cried when she saw you,
too. They told us you were dying and that if we wanted to say goodbye we
should. Then they told mom they couldn't fix your leg because you've already
lost so much blood you wouldn't have lived through an operation. Then the
police came to question us. They were really angry about mom living abroad.
She's wanted to come, too, but she thought this might make you angry so she's
still waiting for what you'll say. So, I decided you couldn't just sleep any
longer. It's becoming too much, even for me." Mairu shook her head in a
dramatic gesture.
"Pain?" Kururi asked softly, looking at his face closely.
"How long has it been?" He asked.
"Eight days." Mairu answered. "I'll dial mom's number for you so you can tell
her you're alive." Mairu forced her phone to his ear.
"Tell her yourself. Actually, you two should pay her a visit."
"I am totally having way too much fun at Raira to go away now. I'm not afraid
of the yakuza, either, if that's what you mean."
"Well, maybe you should be."
Kururi noticed how Izaya's fingers twitched in some involuntary spasm when he
said that. She had a really bad feeling about the extent of what had happened
to him. It was true she started crying when she first saw him after the
accident. He was hastily wrapped in lots of bandages but blood was soaking
through in many places anyway and he was so pale it seemed he might as well
have been dead.
Mairu opened her mouth to speak again, but faltered. There was something off
with Izaya. He seemed somewhat subdued. She figured getting hurt so badly did
that to people.
"Also, Shizuo was arrested. You're probably happy about that. Though they've
let him go since. I think they've only classified it as excessive battery in
self-defense, or should I say, your defense. We've thanked him for saving you,
but he didn't seem so happy. Hey, don't fall asleep on us again!"
"Shhhh." Kururi put a finger to her lips. She grabbed Mairu's arm and proceeded
to pull her out of the room. "Should go." She suggested in a serious voice once
outside. "Worry. Easy target."
"We're not an easy target, Kuru-nee. But if you ask me nicely, I'll
reconsider."
---
"How do you feel?"
"Are you a shrink?"
"Well, if you must know I am. I was asked for a preliminary evaluation before
we let the police talk to you."
"I feel fine." Izaya said indifferently, staring at his bandaged fingers.
"Are you sleeping well? No, you shouldn't lie to me. The nurses note you have
terrible nightmares. What is it you're dreaming about?"
"I don't remember." Izaya's head was starting to hurt more so than usual these
days. He wanted the shrink to get lost already. He looked at the man closely,
searching for clues as to what might make him tick, but frankly, he had no
idea. If only he had his network of information at his fingertips, like he was
used to, things would have been different.
"You're not very talkative right now, are you? Let me talk then. I did my
homework before coming here. You have your history with psychiatrists. You were
diagnosed with dissocial personality disorder back in high school. You were
described as a ruthless, if strangely charming, creature that played with the
lives of others to ease his boredom. You went on to become an information
broker, a borderline illegal activity, especially when you routinely work for
organized crime. You were diagnosed with no deep understanding for social ties,
underdeveloped moral sense, total lack of empathy. 'He's such a by the book
example of a psychopath I've never thought I'd actually meet such a person.
Even as I'm talking to him, I know I'm not helping him or anyone else, I'm only
involuntarily teaching him how to better manipulate others.' - your
psychiatrist at the time has written in an informal note. Soon after that you
graduated and your therapy was dropped anyway. You fared pretty well after that
until a month ago when you were stabbed by an unknown assailant. You
disappeared from the hospital then but now you're back to one, in a much worse
condition. It seems even as the society doesn't have means to control you, its
underbelly has its ways."
"I always thought the likes of you were supposed to act sympathetic towards
victims of violent crime."
"But you don't need my sympathy. You wouldn't have even understood it. After
all, you've never felt it towards anyone yourself. How much of the incident do
you currently remember?"
Izaya didn't answer. He wanted to leave this place. He needed to make sure the
Dullahan’s head at his office was safe and his business was still going strong.
Was Namie taking good care of it?
"At what point did you black out? When they cut you? When they broke your leg?
When they hit your head?"
"I don't remember anything."
"Well, it's probably better for you this way. Be prepared that the police may
not be exactly sympathetic towards you either. I've informed them of your
personality disorder. Also, I've brought something for you. If you happen to
remember anything."
Izaya looked at the pamphlet for rape victims placed in his lap.
"I'll be going."
He tore the pamphlet into a bunch of tiny pieces and scattered them all around
his bed.
---
"Why did you make such a mess of this place?" The police detective who entered
the room commented on the pieces of paper littering his bed. He shoved a badge
under his nose but didn't tell him his name. "Orihara Izaya, I presume?" He sat
on the chair by his side. "And they're taking such a good care of you here,
too. Not to mention the police officers guarding this room and your anonymity.
You should be grateful to your country."
"Isn't that what you should be doing when an innocent citizen is snatched off
the street and tortured to near-death?" Izaya shook the papers off his
comforter. Some of them fell on the policeman's shoes.
"Of course. Except you're not what we'd call an innocent citizen. There was
already one case involving you getting stabbed underway when this happened to
you. Unfortunately, we couldn't resolve it, no thanks to you fleeing from the
hospital and avoiding the policemen who had tried to contact you during last
month. It made us wonder: what do you have to hide? Why the yakuza wanted to
silence you? Because clearly killing you was what they meant to do. Do you know
this woman?"
"I've never seen her before." Izaya looked at the photo he was shown,
uninterested.
"That's interesting considering we got a hold of her at your office in
Shinjuku. She's been wanted for industrial espionage for some time now so we
arrested her. I wonder what she may be willing to tell us about you in exchange
for her freedom. There's also the less significant felony of carrying weapons
in public. It seems you even have a favorite brand of switchblades. We detained
the one we've found in your coat a month ago and yet an identical one was found
at the scene this time, too."
"Carrying knives isn't illegal."
"I would argue about that. Besides, carrying Berettas is. Anyway, what I wanted
you to know was that we have a pretty clear image of what has actually
happened. And it was not the case of an innocent citizen being hurt for no
reason other than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. You probably know
it yourself well enough." The detective pulled out a cigarette and lit it up.
He breathed out the fumes through his nose. They drifted up into the air. He
didn't seem to care he was at a hospital. "You did have ties to the yakuza
prior to this incident. Apparently, you have done something they didn't like so
they decided to get rid of you. It's a miracle you're still alive. The case is
fairly simple on this front as well, no thanks to your friend who has pretty
much incapacitated all the assailants who were present at the scene. They were
all arrested and they're not leaving prison in the foreseeable future. The
yakuza probably still wants you dead, though, we're working on putting you out
of business - so to speak, and this time around, I don't think you will be well
enough to run away from here tomorrow. I don't know if you've heard but we were
told by the doctors you may start walking again on your own in a year, if
you're lucky. It doesn't look pretty, no matter how you look at it. Therefore,
I have a deal for you."
Izaya didn't look interested. In fact, he made a show of his disinterest.
The policeman smiled.
"We'd like you to work for the police. We're aware you've framed innocent
people before, so that's a concern. Your mental health or lack thereof is
another one. But we're willing to take the risks."
"What happens if I refuse?"
"You'll be out of the hospital shortly. Crippled, out on the streets, when the
yakuza is searching for you like crazy. I wouldn't like to find out if I were
you. Especially since you seem to stir some totally unprofessional interests in
some of them." The policeman's smile turned somewhat evil. Izaya wanted to
respond in kind but his ability to smile was strangely absent. "May I ask you:
what is it you're dreaming about? I've heard your screams when I first came to
see you. They needed to put you on sedatives so I bothered needlessly. Though,
on the other hand, I've never heard a scream like that ever before. I have to
admit I mostly work with organized crime, though, not sex crimes."
"Have you arrested him?"
"Who?" The detective looked at Izaya's face with renowned interest. He observed
how his bandaged hands were gripping the sheets. "Oh, you mean the guy whose
sperm was found inside you. He got his punishment the other way, actually.
Heiwajima Shizuo broke his neck. You're lucky to have a friend like this, too.
A man who rushed into a room full of yakuza armed with machine guns to save
you. There's nothing about you that would make you worthy of such a heroic
deed. Consider our offer. It won't stand forever." The detective crushed his
cigarette on the edge of the hospital bed, leaving a dark mark behind.
One of the policemen who were standing by his door approached the detective and
said something to him softly.
"Actually, there's someone here to see you. Kida Masaomi. Do you know him?"
A new-found interest shone in Izaya's eyes. He hadn't really expected to see
Kida ever again but it seemed he had the nerve to appear on quite a short
notice.
Humans. They were still such a fascinating bunch. If only to interact with
them, life was worth living, no matter how painful it was.
"You can let him in." Izaya said. "Though I'd like you to pat him down first."
"But aren't you getting tired by now? Maybe we should tell him to come back
some other time."
"No. I've yearned to see him ever since this happened."
"Who is he to you, by the way? Maybe we should have a chat with him as well.
What do you think, Kida Masaomi-kun?" The detective addressed Kida as he
entered the room. The policeman guarding the door showed him a small folding
knife he'd just extracted out of Kida's pockets. "What use could you have for a
knife in a hospital, I wonder. Well, this is my phone number. If you ever feel
like telling the police anything, anything at all, give me a call."
Kida accepted the name card.
"And I wondered where you have disappeared, Yellow Scarves' Kida-kun." He said,
smiling, before exiting the room.
---
"You look worse than Saki did, at least when I got around to coming to see her
for the first time." Kida observed, surveying Izaya's injuries. His right leg
was all covered in bandages and plaster, his hands were bandaged as well and
his lips were still recovering from being torn apart.
"You're not even attempting to hide what you did from me. You have some balls,
Masaomi. I don't even know when you've grown them, so that's bonus point for
you."
"I was aware you'd figure it out. Besides, why should I care that you know?"
Kida shrugged. "You can't do much to me anyway in your current condition."
"You make it sound as if everything worked out according to your plan. But it
clearly didn’t because I was supposed to be dead by now." Izaya looked very
smug about not being dead, in the end.
"I honestly hoped you would be."
"What are you doing here now then? You came to finish me off?"
"I'm not sure. Though I think I've wanted to see you broken, just like her.
You're acting all tough even now, but..." Kida crouched down and started to
collect the pieces of paper scattered on the floor. He pieced back together the
title of the pamphlet. 'How to Recover From Rape. A Victim's Guide to Surviving
the Trauma' "Why have you torn it to pieces? You couldn't stomach reading it?"
"Have you told Saki what you did?" Izaya asked conversationally, avoiding
looking at the pamphlet pieced back together on the floor. "I don't think she
would be happy about that. After all, she likes me quite a lot."
"She doesn't need to know. I did it for myself." Kida straightened up.
"I've never known you had such sick fantasies either."
"Because I hate you. You've ruined my life. I'm happy someone did the same to
you, even if you're still alive."
"You amaze me, Masaomi-kun." Izaya started clapping. "Such a perfectly executed
revenge. It's such a human thing. Though I've heard, correct me if I'm wrong,
that revenge rarely brings the kind of satisfaction one originally expects. I
wonder if that will be your case, too. Don't you?" Izaya's eyes turned sharp.
"Do I look broken to you, anyway? The way your little girlfriend was?"
"You do." Kida picked up the pieces of the pamphlet off the floor and placed
them in Izaya's lap. "Should I bring you a new one?" He asked, pointing to the
pamphlet. "Also, you're no longer smiling. Anyway, I'll be going, Izaya-san.
You want me to drop by sometime again?" He asked amiably, seamlessly putting on
the happy Kida mask.
"How did you find me here anyway?"
"Oh, Namie-san located you here just before the police came and arrested her.
They've searched your office, too. In fact, I think they've searched every
apartment you own."
A milion alarms sounded off in Izaya's head. A thorough enough search would
have certainly led to the discovery of the Dullahan’s head. Yet he was not
being arrested for alleged murder of a young woman yet.
"Masaomi."
Kida stopped in his track.
"Now that we're even, are you interested in doing another job for me?"
Chapter End Notes
     http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/1786.html?thread=2603258#t2603258 -
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