Can't Get Enough - 2. Arc 1, Chapter 2

Arc 1: Ch.2

The ex-bartender stopped walking, hearing Izaya say something to him. He turned around when he heard the flea falling to the ground. He stared at him for a few moments before he walked over to him, looking down at him. He grabbed him by the shirt and started to drag him away. If he didn’t do this, he knew no one will. Izaya would be left on the ground until he woke up.

His teeth ground together. Not only did he lose his temper, but he beat the damned flea down until he couldn’t stay awake. He was stuck dragging his sorry ass back to his own apartment to ensure he was not killed by some random gang.

He hoped the flea didn’t have brain damage or something; he didn’t want Shinra yelling at him for nearly killing Izaya. The blonde sooner or later ended up carrying the info broker over his shoulder during the rest of the trip. It took a bit longer for him to get home, but he finally did and after cleaning the blood from the flea’s head, he let him rest on the bed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Izaya woke up with hazy vision. He tried to look around the room, and the first thing he noticed was that it wasn’t his apartment, or Shinra’s place, for that matter. He panicked and sat up as fast as he could before he immediately laid back down. His head still hurt and the sudden rush didn’t help at all. Shinra said something to him, though he couldn’t quite make out what he said. The only words that registered were “Shizuo” and “apartment.” After he put the two together, he wanted nothing more than to leave. What the hell? Why am I in Shizuo’s apartment, and not Shinra’s house? Since when did Shizuo ever bring me to his apartment? It’s always Shinra’s house. He tried to take the oxygen mask off of his mouth, but Shinra’s hand stopped him.

Whatever. Izaya was too weak to slap his hand away, anyways. He was just glad that Shinra was there and that he didn’t have to deal with the blonde alone. Shinra kept on talking and talking. He loved hearing the sound of his own voice, didn’t he? Izaya tried to tell him to shut up, which translated to, “Shup,” due to the drugs.

Shinra was trying to ask Izaya questions to guarantee he didn’t suffer from memory loss. He laughed when Izaya tried and failed to tell him to shut up. “Close enough. Hey, Shizuo! He’s awake now,” he informed the ex-bartender. Shinra didn’t exactly appreciate what Shizuo did to his best friend, though what could he say? They were enemies, that’s the way it had been since he introduced Izaya to Shizuo. Ever since that day, it was a never-ending battle. Izaya never let Shizuo get to him. That’s what confused Shinra. Why this time?

The blonde was sitting out in the kitchen, smoking a fresh cancer stick with a cup of coffee. He put out his cigarette right when Shinra called for him. The flea had been sleeping for a whole week, a whole damn week. He pretty much had to take care of him, to an extent. Shinra more or less did most of the work. He stood up and straightened out his white button up before he headed back to his room. “Sup, flea,” he said when entering the bedroom, walking past Shinra. “You continue to amaze me, how much a pain of an ass you are.” He leaned up against the wall, watching the struggling Izaya as he tried to sit up. He savored the moment; he could finally toss his ass out of his apartment. Bad enough that he had a flea sleeping in his bed. “You been sleeping for a week, flea,” he told him. “And I brought your sorry ass here when you passed out from the little beating I gave you.”

Izaya had his eyes until he heard that voice and his eyes snapped open. He tried his best to listen to every word he had to say. The only emotion he felt for him was rage, and he wanted to kill Shizuo. Speaking of which, he looked over at his knife on a table. He kept trying to sit up, which only resulted in laughter from Shizu-chan. He hated feeling so vulnerable around the neanderthal. He wanted to know the reason why he picked him up, and why he was in his apartment. There was no way, this was some sick joke.

I bet Shizu-chan wanted to see me so weak. He gets a high out of it. He had no problem kicking me while I was down, so then why am I not dead? Honestly, he would rather die than be the position he was in. Maybe I am dead. This is hell, in shit-Shizuo’s-shitty-apartment.

Shinra was trying to calm Izaya down. He couldn’t blame him for being angry. “Shizuo, I really don’t t-think. I me-mean, you really shouldn’t aggravate Izaya. At least wait until he has enough strength again.” He laughed sheepishly.

The blonde ignored Shinra’s words and he slowly walked over to the bed, sitting in the chair directly beside Izaya. He sat there with his arms crossed on the back of the seat and head resting on his arms. “He’s fine,” he tells Shinra. “Not like I was trying to kill him, he just pissed me off,” he finished with. He reached out a hand, Shinra about ready to stop him, but stopped when the ex-bartender rested his hand over Izaya’s eyes. He moved the wet cloth from his forehead down to his eyes. His hand just rested there, not really moving. Shinra couldn’t believe what was happening. “If you’re that upset that I brought you were, you’re more than welcome to hobble out of here.”

He didn’t want Izaya to be lying on the streets, with as many lives he had fucked up; he wouldn’t doubt someone would’ve killed the info broker if they were given the chance to do so. “Shinra,” he said, looking up to the doctor, “when can he get the hell out of here?” he asked.

“He should be able to walk around in a couple of days.”

Shizuo’s eyes moved back over to Izaya, looking at the oxygen mask and the IV in his arm. That itself made him feel guilty. Why the fuck was he feeling guilty? The damn flea asked for it. He always did.

I can walk in a couple of days, Shinra says. Izaya mentally laughed. He tensed, feeling Shizuo’s hand against his eyes. The last time his hand connected with his head, it knocked him out. This time felt much different.

If he could form sentences, he would rant on and on until he forced Shizuo to leave. If he could walk, he’d slice him open with his knife faster than he could apologize. He was disgusted with Shizuo and himself, admittedly. They had been in so many fights, day in and day out. Of all the fights, they were never actually able to hurt each other. Izaya was too quick; he dodged effortlessly, all due to his amazing parkour abilities. Shizuo, on the other hand, was indestructible. Izaya wasn’t sure if anything could kill that man, which was what drew him in. He liked the challenge. It forced him to try harder, and it gave him a reason to devote seventy-eight percent of his life just to piss him off. How messed up was that? He devoted his time to hurt one person. It was solely for the adrenaline rush. For someone who wanted to kill him, Shizuo never made him feel so alive.

Letting Shizuo hit him was his last straw, he would never allow that to happen again. He couldn’t remember the reason why he let it happen in the first place. The time he spent in the monster’s apartment and his guilt would change nothing. He still hated him, and he wanted payback.