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Chapter Text

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Chapter 1 : Hope and Fear

Shizuo was dead.

That alone was enough to shatter Orihara Izaya, Ikebukuro’s greatest informant, and Shizuo’s husband

Yes, they were married. Happily so. Until cruel fate ripped everything away, leaving Izaya with nothing to hope for, nothing to feel, nothing to hold. Just… nothing…

His fingers trembled as they traced the edges of a nearly torn photograph, he scanned the photo of their wedding day. His own face, brighter than he’d ever seen it, now dulled by grief. Beside him, Shizuo grinned like an idiot. Izaya let out a weak chuckle. His idiot. 

But the laughter died as quickly as it came. Tears welled up again, and this time, Izaya didn’t have the strength to hold them back. They spilled over and Izaya let it stream through like a river.

“S-Shizu-chan.. I miss you.. I want to see you.. Can’t I ?” His breath hitched. He gasped for air, clutching his chest like a lifeline as he crumpled onto their cold, empty bed. He cried until exhaustion dragged him under, his sobs fading into the dark.

—--

A sharp beep! jolted him awake.

Izaya’s eyes flew open only to be met with blinding white. His body felt trapped, wrapped in something thin yet suffocating enough to not get a proper volume of air.

‘Why is there a sheet over me?’ He shoved it aside, panic rising as he scanned the surrounding area. This wasn’t his room.

A hospital to be exact.

‘What the hell ? Did I cry myself into a coma ? His thoughts raced. Or… did I die ?’

The steady beep-beep of a heart monitor confirmed he was in fact alive and well. ‘But Shizuo was the one who was sick, not me. All I did was grieve.’ He ruffled his own hair in confusion, ‘This makes no sense at all.’

He tried to stand only for his legs to buckle instantly. He crashed to the floor with a pained groan.

‘Fucking ow-’

Then the door exploded inward with enough force to make the hinges scream in protest. Izaya’s head snapped up so sharply as his neck protested. Standing in the front of the door was a nurse in teal scrubs, her chest heaving like she’d run a marathon. ‘Wait, teal ?’ That detail pinged in Izaya’s foggy brain like a jarring note. The hospital Shizuo had been in…Rairi General… had their scrubs in cornflower blue not teal. He could still picture the exact shade from all those sleepless nights at his husband’s bedside.

“Orihara Izaya-san ??!” The nurse’s voice cracked on the last syllable, her wide eyes reflecting something between awe and terror.

Izaya managed a weak nod. At least his name remained constant in whatever fresh hell this was. The nurse crossed herself so violently she nearly elbowed the heart monitor. “By all the gods ! You’re alive !”

Izaya’s brain stuttered. “Say what now ?”

The words slipped out before he could stop them, this is so ridiculous as it sounds.

The nurse didn’t seem to notice his confusion. She rushed forward, hands fluttering as if unsure whether to touch him or not. “Y-You shouldn’t be moving! Your vitals, they were-” She cut herself off, swallowing hard before forcing a professional tone. “Let me help you back to bed”

Izaya let her guide him but his mind was elsewhere. ‘What the hell is she talking about? Alive ? What was so shocking about that ?’. His train of thought abruptly cut off as she adjusted his pillows with shaking hands.

“Miss Nurse,” he began carefully,”I-is this.. Rairi General Hospital?”

She paused, her brow furrowing. “Rairi? Ah yes, maybe you meant Raira General Hospital, w-what’s wrong ?”

Izaya’s stomach dropped. No, that’s not right. He knew what he’d said. He knew the name of Shizuo’s hospital. The confirmation hit like a physical blow. Izaya’s fingers dug into the thin hospital blanket as his mind raced through possibilities. 

‘Parallel universe? Dimensional travel ? Some elaborate coma dream ? None of the explanations made sense, but the evidence was undeniable.’ He racked his mind as he gathered the information, from the wrong hospital colors to the subtly incorrect name of the hospital and also the way this nurse looked at him like he’d crawled back from the grave.

Orihara Izaya had built his life on cold, hard reality. He believed in monsters all right, he’d seen Celty’s headless form galloping through midnight streets, witnessed Shizuo’s inhuman strength to protect him more times than he could count. Those were facts. Measurable phenomena.

But this ?

This was the kind of ridiculous plot line he’d expect from one of Shinra’s terrible sci-fi movies or some light novel plot he’d picked up to read once in a while if he has exactly nothing to do. No, this is something that is actually happening to him. The universe had apparently decided to play a cosmic joke on him, and Izaya had never been good at being the punchline.

A bitter chuckle escaped his lips. Him, of all people trapped in some multiverse bullshit. He could almost hear Shizuo’s voice, “Quit overthinking everything, Izaya,” -oh god, he wished for nothing more than his Shizuo to be here right now, to ground him with that infuriatingly simple perspective of his that always cut through Izaya’s spiraling thoughts.

Wait. Shizuo..

The realization hit him like a truck. His breath caught, heart suddenly pounding so violently he wondered if the nurse could hear it. If this was indeed another timeline.. then.. then…

“Orihara-san, maybe you need to rest,” the nurse said carefully, already edging toward the door. “I’ll go call the doctor to chec-”

Izaya moved before he could think. His hands shot out, fingers clamping around her shoulders with enough force to make her gasp. The nurse stiffened, eyes widening in genuine alarm as she took in his wild expression. Her fingers twitched toward the panic button on her hip.

But then he spoke and his voice was something raw and vulnerable that made her pause.

“Shizuo,” he demanded, the name coming out half-choked. “Heiwajima Shizuo, do you know him ? Is he-” Alive ? His throat closed around the word ‘alive’, the memory of cold skin beneath his fingertips still too fresh.

The change in his demeanor was so complete that the nurse momentarily forgot her fear. There was something heartbreaking in how this man looked at her, wide-eyed and pursed lips. He looked at her like she held the keys to his salvation in her next words. This shattered, desperate man bore little resemblance to the cold, calculating informant from the rumors. She made a mental note to stop trusting gossip.Clearly, reality was far more complicated.

“Y-yes, of course !” She stammered. “Whenever you two are in Ikebukuro at the same time, you trend on social media for days.” A nervous laugh escaped her. She doesn’t know how to explain so she said, “Let’s say you two have made quite an impression.” She hesitated, then softened. “Oh and Heiwajima-san was perfectly fine when I last saw him.”

Heat rushed to Izaya’s cheeks. ‘Their relationship is that popular ??’. Their.. whatever this was between them being public knowledge shouldn’t have affected him. Yet something warm and familiar feeling bloomed in his chest at the confirmation that in this world too, he also fell head over heels for the same man. 

A smile crept up across Izaya’s lips- small, unguarded that the nurse caught her breath. For that fleeting moment, the sharp angles of his face softened, his eyes losing their serious glint to something almost.. tender. The nurse felt heat rise to her cheeks. ‘Oh my, what exactly were they to each other ? i thought they loathe each other.. i should stop believing false rumors’

“I see,” he murmured, offering the nurse a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thank you, Miss Nurse”

Blessing or curse ? The universe had thrown him a puzzle wrapped in chaos and Izaya couldn’t be able to resist picking apart the possibility.

In one fluid motion, he vaulted from the bed. The nurse lunged, but he was already a blur of white hospital linen slipping through her grasp. “W-WAIT ! Orihara-san !! Where are-” Her protest was already fading behind him, swallowed by the hospital corridor.

—-----

He weaves through between startled nurses and doctors, knocking over carts in his wake without a backward glance. Nothing matters but confirmation. He needs to see Shizuo’s face, hear his voice, feel the reality of his husband’s existence with his own senses.

Bursting through the hospital doors, he hits the Ikebukuro streets at a dead sprint. Pedestrians jump aside as Izaya in a hospital gown tears past, but their shocked expression barely makes it into Izaya’s mind. His entire world has narrowed to one destination, Simon’s sushi place. He doesn’t know why but that’s the only place that came first into his mind.

Izaya's keen perception remains intact, much like it was in his own dimension—or so he believes. The whole "isekai" concept hasn't quite settled into his logical brain yet, but he has more immediate concerns at hand, and it's standing right before him...

Shizuo Heiwajima...

A man in bystander attire stands stoically, leaning against the hard wall just outside Simon's dining area, a cigarette perched between his lips as he gazes into the distance.

Izaya's heart pounds in his chest as he approaches, his steps heavy with anticipation and trepidation. He feared that the Shizuo in this world would bear no resemblance to his own, but as he draws closer, he can hardly believe his eyes- it's as if his Shizuo has been resurrected, unscathed and whole.

Izaya can't believe his eyes... Shizuo, his beast, stands right in front of him. Despite his panting from the exertion of running, Izaya's adrenaline keeps him alert.

He braces himself, preparing to call out to Shizuo, "Sh-Shizu—"

But before he can finish, the blond locks eyes with him, sending a jolt of lightning through Izaya's body. Initially, Izaya intends to greet him with a smile, but his expression quickly falters as he observes Shizuo reaching for the nearest vending machine. Even as their eyes remain locked, Izaya realizes something is off- it's not the gaze of a partner, but rather one filled with vengeance, anger, and the desire to kill.

Izaya froze in place, unsure of what to do in this rather alarming situation. Gathering his courage, he speaks again, "W-wait, Shizuo, it's me! Iza- "

Before he can finish his sentence, the vending machine hurtles towards him. Thanks to his agility, he narrowly dodges the flying object, but the close call throws him off balance, causing him to tumble to the ground on his back.

"Augh! Ukh..." Izaya grunts in pain as he attempts to get up, but it's too late- Shizuo looms over him, emanating a menacing aura.

"Izaya, you're not so agile today, are you? And what the fuck is with that hospital gown? What tricks are you scheming in that brain of yours again?" Shizuo's accusations come out of nowhere, catching Izaya off guard. He's baffled by the false accusations and the sudden aggression. He didn't know what the fuck the blond was talking about, 

'What are those false accusations? Why does he thinks that the first time he saw me ? And also what in the actual fuck !!!? He really threw the vending machine at me full speed without hesitation!'

Izaya sits there, speechless, unable to protest or question the accusations hurled at him. Fear slowly creeps up his body as he stares at the raging blond before him.

He doesn't know how long they remain in that position, leaving them exposed to the eyes and words of the onlookers. He can hear the dense words in the air, filled with malice and excitement, urging for violence.

Some of the words filter through his mind,

"Oh look ! they're at it again!"

"Ahh, Izaya and Shizuo, the perfect chaotic duo. I'm betting on Shizuo right now!"

"Yes! He finally got the pest!"

"KILL HIM! KILL HIM! KILL HIM!"

His head throbs with pain, overwhelmed by the cruelty of the world around him. He loves humanity, enjoys helping them, but now he questions why he should endure this hell. Just what kind of twisted version of his is living through all of this nonsense?  Why is everyone so cruel, even his Shizuo?

Izaya looks up, meeting Shizuo's gaze once more. He sees pure hatred in those eyes

The same eyes that once offered warmth,

Same eyes that gave comfort,

The same eyes that always reassured him everything is going to be okay..

now turned cold and painful...-

Shizuo's POV

Shizuo doesn't pay attention to his surroundings; it's not his concern. The words around him are nothing but gibberish in his ears so he doesn't really give a flying care about the useless chattering. His focus is solely on Izaya, wondering why the flea sits there so vulnerably.

His confusion grows, mingled with a hint of concern—wait concern ? Hah-

No way would he sympathize with the pest. Izaya's state must be another trick, another ploy to mock him so that he can laugh at him like a maniac he is.

"What now, Izaya? Cat got your fucking tongue? No snarky remarks? Playing innocent? I don't buy it, Flea..." Shizuo raises the stop sign high above his head, ready to strike down on Izaya.

"I'm going to make sure you don't want to step into Ikebukuro anymore, right here, right now, YOU FUCKING FLE-"

*drip* *drop*

The stop sign stops halfway abruptly, his eyes going wide-eyed for a fraction, his hand shaking a bit because of the abrupt stop of momentum, and also because of another reason...

What...?

No.. no.. no way ?

Flea... 

That flea..

Izaya.. is crying and shaking like a leaf. 

He's never seen Izaya cry before, let alone tremble like this. !!

What even is happening ??

Is the flea actually hurt? Is the hospital gown not just another sick charade of his?

He refuses to believe it, but something in the back of his mind screams at him that this isn't right, that there's something wrong with the flea. Despite his inner turmoil, Shizuo lowers the sign and reaches out to Izaya, "Hey, Izaya, what’s with- "

Suddenly, the flea jerks back in a hurry and scrambles to get up from the ground, making a run for it, leaving the blond speechless. He runs and runs until his legs give out. Unfortunately, fueled by adrenaline, he doesn't look clearly where he steps. His feet catch on something, causing Izaya to trip and hit the ground hard. He hisses in pain as he tries to get up again, but he simply falls down once more, his ankle dislocated.

Chapter Text

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He takes time to sort things out before accepting what has happened. The adrenaline gradually runs out, and he doesn’t know what to do as he can’t get up, let alone walk. But at least he’s alone in this narrow and cramped forgotten alleyway. He doesn’t want to meet anyone; he just wants to rest and wake up from this nightmare. He lets out a tired sigh and then buries his face on the ground, continuing to lay there for quite some time until he sees some random guys approaching him from the corner of his eyes. He can make out about three figures walking towards him. He also hears the dudes cackling and spewing some nasty words with a sick grin on their faces.

“Well, well, look what we have here...” one of the dudes suddenly speaks. “Isn’t that the Great Orihara Izaya? Kekekeke.”

‘Gosh, i hates the way that man speaks.’ Izaya thought to himself

“Not so tough now, aren’t you, lying on the ground like that, so pathetic,” the other dude comes in.

And the third dude just kept laughing at him and said, "Remember us ? I still vividly remember you messed up our lives inside out. Now who's laughing ?"

Izaya looks up and supports his body with one hand, "I have no recollection of such thing. Would you fine gentlemen leave me alone ?" Izaya did not want to pick up a fight let alone argue, there have been so many fake claims towards him already, he did not want to hear more bullshit that he didn't even do.

"You prick, after ruining our life, you even have the audacity to forget about what you've done ? Little shit you're going to pay for all of it." One of the dude crouches down and yanks Izaya's collar so he has him by eye level. Izaya couldn't help but grimace at forced movement. The dude punches him in the face that sends Izaya tumbling down to the cold ground beneath.

Izaya scrambles to get up but to no avail he falls back down then spits out his own blood.

'Fucking Ow' screams Izaya internally, it's the 2nd time he said that same exact word today.

He sighed, "Are you satisfied ? Can you get the fuck out of my sight ?"

"This cockroach, you think you are forgiven just by one punch ? HAHAHA", the three men burst out laughing.” "Hey... look at this shit, guys! The cockroach's been crying!" one of the dudes growled, forcefully grabbing Izaya's chin and turning his face toward the other two.

Izaya let out a small groan of pain. The other two giggled like sick sociopath, starting to circle him. The biggest, most muscular dude of the group, the one clearly packing the most strength, grabbed Izaya's chin and forced his face up. ‘Looks like this asshole's the leader of the pack,’ Izaya thought, grimacing.

Izaya’s vision swam. Blood dripped from his split lip, warm and metallic against his tongue. His ribs ached with every breath, each inhale a fresh stab of agony. He didn’t understand. None of this made sense.

‘i didn’t do anything to them.’

‘I don’t even know them.’

But the hatred in their eyes was real. The way they looked at him, like he was something vile, something deserving of this pain, it made his stomach twist. The second man, a wiry figure with a jagged scar across his cheekbone, smirked. "You ruined my life with your little 'game'," he spat, driving a knee into Izaya’s side.

Izaya choked, his body curling in on itself instinctively. "I- I don’t-" A fist connected with his jaw, cutting him off. His head snapped to the side, his vision exploding into stars. The third man, the largest of the group, grabbed a fistful of Izaya’s hair, yanking his head back.

"Pathetic," he sneered. "You’re not even fighting back. What, finally realized you’re not as untouchable as you thought?" Izaya’s breath came in ragged gasps. His hands trembled where they pressed against the ground, his fingers leaving smears of blood on the pavement.

He wanted to laugh. He wanted to scream.

‘This is utterly ridiculous, this isn’t me’

‘I’m not this person.’

But the words wouldn’t come. The leader’s grin widened, his teeth glinting in the dim light. "Hah, what’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?" He leaned in closer, his breath hot against Izaya’s ear. "Or are you just finally realizing no one’s coming to save you?"

Something inside Izaya shattered. A sob tore from his throat, raw and broken. Tears spilled over, mixing with the blood on his face. He didn’t have the strength to hold them back anymore. The men erupted into laughter, the sound cruel, delighted. "Look at him! He’s crying!"

"Guess the mighty Orihara Izaya isn’t so tough after all." Izaya squeezed his eyes shut, his entire body shaking.

‘Shizu-chan…Where are you?’

But he already knew the answer. In this world, Shizuo wouldn’t come.

In this world, Shizuo ‘hated’ him

The cold concrete bit into Izaya's knees as he tried to push himself up, his arms shaking violently with the effort. His hospital gown - that damned thin, flimsy thing - was torn at the shoulder, the fabric soaked with a mix of sweat and blood. Every breath sent fresh waves of pain through his ribs, each inhale a sharp reminder of the blows he'd taken.

"Look at him," the leader sneered, nudging Izaya's shoulder with his boot, sending him sprawling back onto the pavement. "Can't even stand up. Pathetic." Izaya's vision blurred as his head hit the ground again. The world spun nauseatingly, the alley walls seeming to close in around him. He could taste blood - metallic and thick - pooling in his mouth. When he tried to speak, all that came out was a wet cough, crimson droplets spattering against the dirty concrete. The second attacker - a muscular brute with tattoos snaking up his neck - grabbed a fistful of Izaya's hair, yanking his head back at a painful angle. "You remember what you did to my sister?" he growled, his breath reeking of alcohol and cheap tobacco.

"Drove her to fucking suicide with your little mind games." Izaya's eyes widened. "I... I don't-"

A backhand across the face cut him off, the force of it making his ears ring. "Liar!" the man roared, shaking him like a ragdoll.

"You knew exactly what you were doing when you spread those rumors! When you turned everyone against her! You were lucky she is alive but do you know how devastating her life has been ??" Tears welled up in Izaya's eyes, spilling over despite his efforts to hold them back. So many accusations, making him want to puke.

He wanted to protest, to explain that he'd never do such things, but the words stuck in his throat. The sheer hatred in their eyes... it was overwhelming. The third man - wiry and sharp-featured - crouched down beside him, a switchblade flashing in the dim light. "You always thought you were so clever," he murmured, pressing the cold metal against Izaya's cheek.

"Always having fun ruining people's lives. But oh how the table has turned." Izaya flinched as the blade bit into his skin, a thin line of red welling up along his cheekbone. His breath came in short, panicked gasps, his chest heaving. The pain was nothing compared to the terror clawing at his insides.

The leader laughed - a deep, ugly sound. He leaned down, his face inches from Izaya's. "What's wrong? Not so fun when you're not the one pulling the strings, is it?"

Izaya squeezed his eyes shut, hot tears streaming down his face. He wanted to disappear. To wake up from this nightmare. But the pain was real. The blood was real. The hatred in their voices was devastatingly real.

And worst of all... In this world, Shizuo would probably cheer them on. That thought broke something inside him. A sob wrenched itself from his throat, raw and broken. His body curled in on itself, his fingers clutching weakly at the torn fabric of his gown as he finally, completely shattered.

The men's laughter echoed around him, cruel and triumphant. "Crying again?" "Maybe we should give you something to really cry about."

The blade pressed deeper.

And Izaya...

Izaya just let it happen..

Izaya’s breath hitched as the knife pressed deeper into his skin, the cold bite of metal drawing a thin line of blood down his cheek. His vision blurred with tears, his body trembling not just from pain, but from the crushing weight of despair.

‘Maybe this is how it ends.’

‘Maybe I’ll finally see him again.’

The thought was almost comforting. If he died here, at least he wouldn’t have to suffer in a world where Shizuo looked at him with nothing but hatred. Where he was nothing but a villain in everyone’s eyes.

He closed his eyes, bracing himself-

CRACK-

A sickening sound of impact echoed through the alley, followed by a pained grunt. The pressure of the knife vanished as the wiry man was suddenly yanked backward, his body slamming into the opposite wall with enough force to crack the bricks.

Izaya’s eyes flew open just in time to see a vending machine, an entire goddamn vending machine, embedded in the wall where the man had been standing moments before.

His breath caught in his throat.

There was only one person in the world who could throw something like that. A shadow fell over him, broad and imposing. The remaining two attackers froze, their faces draining of color as they turned toward the entrance of the alley.

Shizuo Heiwajima stood there, his golden eyes burning with barely restrained fury.

His tie was loose, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his hands -those terrifying, inhuman hands- were clenched into fists at his sides.

"Move your hands, you disgusting bastards,"he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "That’s my prey." The air turned electric.

Izaya’s heart pounded so hard he thought it might burst.

‘Relief.’

'Terror.'

‘Afraid...'

All of it crashed into him at once. Shizuo was here. His Shizuo ?- no, not his, not in this world, but Shizuo nonetheless.

The man he loved more than anything, the man whose warmth he’d give anything to feel again. And yet, the way Shizuo was looking at him now…

It wasn’t love.

It wasn’t even pity.

It was something far colder.

The leader of the group swallowed hard, taking a shaky step back. "H-Heiwajima! We were just—"

"I said move." Shizuo didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. The two men scrambled away like rats, their earlier bravado crumbling in an instant. And then it was just the two of them.

Izaya, broken and bleeding on the ground.

And Shizuo, staring down at him like he was trying to solve some impossible puzzle.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then Shizuo crouched down, his expression unreadable. Izaya flinched.

Shizuo’s jaw tightened. "…The hell’s wrong with you, flea?"

His voice was rough, but there was something underneath it, something that sounded almost like concern. Izaya didn’t know whether to laugh or sob.

Because in this moment, he had no idea which would hurt more-

Being killed by the man he loved.

Or being saved by a version of him that would never love him back.

Chapter Text

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Chapter 3: The Flea That Didn't Run

Shizuo’s POV

The cigarette between Shizuo's fingers burned down to the filter unnoticed, its ash crumbling to the sidewalk as he stared at the fleeing figure. That familiar mop of dark hair, the pale hospital gown flapping like a surrender flag - it was Izaya, but not at the same time. There should have been laughter echoing off the buildings, that infuriating lilt calling him "Shizu-chan" in that teasing way that made his blood boil. 

Not this desperate sprint of a man running from ghosts Shizuo couldn't see.

Shizuo's cigarette hung forgotten between his lips as he recalled the idiot nearly trip over his own feet rounding a corner.

"Tch.” He ruffled his own hair in annoyance

Every instinct screamed trap. This had to be another of the flea's elaborate games.

That's what he told himself as he crushed the cigarette under his heel. The flea was clearly up to something, and whatever it was, Shizuo wanted no part in it.

But then why were his feet moving?

—------

A sound cut through the city noise - a whimper, raw and pained, coming from the alley ahead. Shizuo's body moved before his mind could protest, his heavy boots pounding against the pavement. The alley stank of piss and cheap alcohol, the kind of place where nothing good ever happened. 

Laughter bounced off the brick walls - the ugly, guttural kind that set his teeth on edge. Not Izaya's laughter. Never Izaya's laughter.

The scene hit him in fragments, a boot connecting with ribs, the wet sound of flesh striking pavement, and then-

a sob. 

Broken. And so human..

He didn't have to be a genius to guess where the sound came from. There was only one person it could be. But that contradicted everything, because The Great Orihara Izaya didn't sob. Izaya knew, taunted and provoked and avoided punches like they were nothing. 

The figure now curled on the ground, limbs at unnatural angles, couldn't be the same man who'd dodged his vending machines with that infuriating grin.

Then one of the attackers hauled Izaya upright and dragged the blade across his throat. "Maybe we should give him something to really cry about." A thin, bright line of blood bloomed along the rusted edge as the steel bit deeper.

Something in Shizuo snapped.

The vending machine left his hands before conscious thought caught up, metal screaming as it tore through the air. "Move your hands, you disgusting bastards." The timbre of his voice dropped even lower, vibrating with something primal. "That's my prey.”

The words tasted like ash even as he said them.

For a heartbeat, the alley hung in perfect stillness. Then movement - the three attackers scrambling backward like roaches exposed to light. 

One tripped over his own feet in his haste to retreat. "H-Heiwajima! We were just-"

"I said move.”

Shizuo didn't raise his voice. Didn't need to. The quiet command sent them stumbling over each other in their panic, their earlier bravado crumbling like wet paper. They didn't run so much as evaporate, leaving behind only the stink of their fear and the echo of fleeing footsteps.

The moment the last attacker scrambled away, the alley fell into heavy silence- broken only by the ragged, wet sounds of Izaya trying to breathe through the pain.

Shizuo expected the usual. Expected the flea to push himself up with that infuriating smirk, bloodied lips curled around some clever taunt. Expected the sharp glint in his eyes, the one that said "Finish the job  Shizu-chan, why ? Monster like you couldn't do it ?"

But this-

This wasn’t that.

Izaya’s hands shook where they pressed into the pavement, arms trembling as he tried and failed to sit up properly. His legs were drawn together tightly, the unnatural angle of his left ankle making something in Shizuo’s gut twist. Every aborted movement, every hitched breath, spoke of pain held back by sheer stubbornness.

Izaya looked up.

Blood streaked down his chin, tears cutting through the dirt on his face. But it was his eyes that froze Shizuo in place.

Wide. 

Unsteady.

Afraid (?).

Not the performative fear Izaya usually faked. Not the exaggerated panic he put on just to piss him off.

This was raw. Real.

And it was not how it supposed to be.

A broken sound escaped Izaya's throat as his fingers scraped against concrete, his entire body shuddering like a leaf in a storm. His shoulders hunched like he was trying to make himself smaller like he expected another blow.

Shizuo didn't realize he'd moved until he was crouching right in front of him, close enough to see the way Izaya flinched at his shadow.

"…The hell’s wrong with you, flea?”.

The words came out rough, but there was something underneath them, something that sounded almost like concern even to his own ears.

Izaya's breath hitched. His fingers dug into the pavement like he was trying to ground himself, knuckles white with tension. A fresh tear cut through the blood and dirt on his cheek, but he didn't look away. Didn't speak. Just stared up at Shizuo with an expression that made something primal in Shizuo's chest snarl in protest.

For the first time in years, Shizuo Heiwajima felt something unsettling twist in his chest. He'd dreamed of breaking Izaya for so long. 

So why..

So why did seeing it feel like losing?

Izaya’s POV

"…The hell’s wrong with you, flea?”, that’s what he said.  

‘Everything is wrong,’ he wanted to say. 

‘This isn’t my world. You aren’t my Shizuo. I don’t even know why they hate me here. I've been accused of everything that i didn't do, isn't that just cruel ?’’  

But before he could even open his mouth, Shizuo twisted the knife deeper.  

"Don’t give me the wrong idea," the blond scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. "I know those guys must’ve had a damn good reason to beat you half to death. You’re a sick fucking sociopath who deserves worse anyway. I just want to know what kind of sick game you're planning this time."

Each word landed like a physical blow, sharper than any punch.  

‘How could you say that?’ The words burned through Izaya's mind like acid. 

‘How could you?’  

He swallowed each syllable like poison, feeling it eat away at whatever fragile hope had foolishly taken root in his chest. This wasn't his Shizuo. His Shizuo, the one who'd held him through nightmares, who'd kissed his scars, who'd whispered a bunch of ‘love you’ against his hair, that Shizuo was gone. Dead. Waiting for him somewhere beyond this godforsaken world.  

The real Shizuo is waiting for me.

The thought came with a desperate, almost hysterical clarity. This imposter wearing his lover's face, this hateful thing wasn't worth explaining anything to.  

Izaya's lips twisted into a grin before he even realized it. Strange how natural it felt.

"Then you'll kill me here?" The words came out light, almost playful, despite the blood dripping from his chin. "Good then. Just fucking do it, you monster."  

Shizuo's eyes narrowed and suddenly split into a grin at the familiarity, his scoff was sharp enough to draw blood. "HAH! I knew you were playing facades, you shitty no-good flea." He straightened, cracking his knuckles with a sound like breaking bones. "Now that you've dropped the act.. I'll make sure you can't even crawl back to Ikebukuro”

‘What a brute,’ Izaya thought dimly. His mind struggled through the fog of pain and exhaustion. Yet something pricked at the back of his foggy mind- 

‘the wording felt off.’ A weak, bloody smile twisted his lips as he forced the words out,

“Well, that’s not good, Shizuo. If you don’t kill me here, I might keep coming back to your precious Ikebukuro.”

The effect was almost instantaneous. His golden eyes widened a fraction. Shizuo’s shoulders tensing beneath the wrinkled dress shirt and head tilting just slightly to the side like a predator encountering unfamiliar prey. The ever-present anger in his expression gave away to unguarded shock, as if Izaya had suddenly spoken in tongues rather than simply using his given name.

“What did you just call me ?” Shizuo growled, the question carried dangerous weight into it

Izaya blinked up at him, his vision swimming. The edges of his sight darkened, shadows creeping inward like ink in water. Had he misheard? His eyelashes fluttered as he looked up at the blurred figure.

“What.. your name isn’t Shizuo now ?” The words slurred together, his usual precision eroded by pain and possible head concussion. 

“Fucking-” Shizuo’s hands clenched into fists, the leather of his gloves creaking. “Stop making me confused, you damn flea.” He inched his body forward, his shadow engulfing Izaya’s crumpled form.

“We both know damn well you wouldn’t even dare call me by that name.”His voice dropped to a growl that vibrated through the narrow space between them. “Is this your new trick ? Making me second-guess myself so you can slip away?”

The absurdity of the accusation almost made Izaya laugh. As if he could slip anywhere in this state. He’s way too tired to even question the brute’s logic. His ribs screamed when he tried to shift position, the motion tugging at the shallow cut across his throat.

‘What does this world’s Izaya even call him? Does that even matter now for fuck sake ??’

The thought drifted through his hazy mind like smoke. It hardly even mattered now. Every second stretched thinner, his consciousness fraying at the edges.

“You damn single-celled brute.” He muttered lazily, the insult rolling off his tongue with worn-out familiarity despite the blood in his mouth. “Do you even understand words ??” A sigh escaped him. “I’ve had enough… If you don’t want to kill me here, then leave me… please”

‘Because..’

‘If I see your face for any longer than this, I won't be able to keep it together.’ The words never made it past his lips, dissolving into the silence between them.

‘I only want to see your face.. my Shizuo.. not you. So please kill me.’

He didn’t realize he’d started crying again. Tears cutting fresh tracks through the grime and blood on his face. ‘Pathetic’. His vision blurred at the edges, the world tilting on its axis. ‘I’m too tired to think..’

Unaware, his head lolled backward, his body finally surrendering to the darkness creeping in. His last fragmented thought was of warm hands and a voice he’d never hear again- and the last thing he saw was Shizuo’s widened eyes before him.

—---------

Shizuo didn’t move.

He stayed crouched, frozen in place, his hands hovering awkwardly in the air as if unsure whether to reach out or pull back. He looks down to examine Izaya’s limp form. Something unfamiliar jolted through him.

“What the actual fuck…”

Chapter Text

-------------

Chapter 4 : Universe’s Joke

Shizuo's POV

The concrete bit into Shizuo’s kneecap as he dropped down bracing the filthy pavement, his free hand automatically gripping the back of Izaya’s hospital gown to haul him upright just enough to have him above ground. The informant’s body folded forward like a marionette with cut strings, his forehead nearly brushing the bloodstained pavement before Shizuo caught him. 

The unnatural laxness of Izaya’s limb sent an unfamiliar jolt through him. Shizuo had handled countless unconscious bodies throughout his lifetime. He knew without a doubt that Izaya was out cold, his body nothing more than dead weight, sagging against him.

Against all instinct, Shizuo found himself sliding a palm beneath Izaya’s ribcage, feeling the faint but steady flutter of a heartbeat through the thin fabric. The rhythm was irregular, skipping every fourth or third pulse like a damaged engine, but it was there. Alive. Shizuo felt something in his chest loosen despite himself.

‘Why does that make my chest feel lighter ?’ 

The thought slithered through his mind before he could stop it. Shizuo’s teeth ground together hard enough to send a dull ache through his jaw. 

‘Fuck, I’m in dire need for some cigarette’. 

The craving becomes a physical itch in his fingers, but his last pack had been sacrificed to the ground earlier. The phantom taste of nicotine burned on his tongue anyway, maybe his own coping response to stress.

Now that he looked closer, the damage was worse than he’d thought. The hospital gown clung to Izaya’s frame where blood and sweat had soaked through, translucent enough to reveal the roadmap of bruises beneath. Finger-shaped marks purpled the skin of his upper arms, the distinct oval patterning suggesting he’d been grabbed and shaken violently. His right hand was a mess of split knuckles and torn fingernails. 

Izaya’s sharp features were nearly unrecognizable beneath the swelling. A vicious split bisected his left eyebrow, the cut jagged and deep enough to expose a glint of bone beneath the clotted blood. A trail of dried blood crusted the corner of his mouth. There was the thin, precise line etched across his throat, not deep enough to be fatal almost as if the mark of a blade held with an intent. 

Worst was the ankle, swollen to nearly twice its normal size and already blooming the livid blues and blacks of deep tissue trauma. The joint sat at an unnatural angle that made Shizuo’s own bone ache in sympathy.

‘They really did a number on you huh?’ He internally thought.

But that didn’t make any sense. The Izaya he knew would have danced around those clumsy punches like they were nothing. Would’ve twisted away from that boot before it ever connected with his ribs. Heck, would’ve even laughed as he turned their violence back on them with a switchblade of his.

Not this.

Not tripping over his own feet like some amateur. Not taking hits without retaliation. Not curling up on the pavement like a broken doll wide eyed and all those trembling muscles. 

The Izaya in his memories never let himself look weak, heck maybe he would rather chew off his own limbs before showing any vulnerability.

‘So.. why ?’

‘Why did you just let it happen?’ Shizuo’s jaw tightened.

The hospital gown could still be part of some scheme. maybe the flea had stolen it. Maybe this was all just some twisted charade of his to make people's lives miserable like the usual rodeo each day. Half-hoping to prove his theory right, he grabbed Izaya’s wrist, finger searching for the plastic band hospitals. Every inpatient would get one, those things that were practically glued to your skin until discharge. If they’d bothered dressing him in that hospital gown, there had to be an ID band somewhere. Half of him wanted to find nothing, so that he could continue loathing him properly, so that he could walk away right now and not feel a damn thing. Then to his demise, his thumb brushed against it.

“Tch..”

The sound escaped through his clenched teeth before he could stop it. There it was the band, cheap plastic digging into Izaya’s pallid wrist leaving red indentation around the edges. Raira General’s logo stood out and the barcode beneath it slightly smudged from what must have been frantic movement but still perfectly legible.

Shizuo’s grip slackened. With this he knew that Izaya hadn’t just been in the hospital. He’d been admitted formally. Something unpleasant twisted behind Shizuo’s sternum. No matter how much of a bastard Izaya was, no one deserved these beating especially to someone who’d clearly just crawled out of a hospital bed.

‘Damn it.’

Shizuo stretched his hand to Izaya’s cheek, roughly guiding the pale face toward his direction. He silently willed himself to feel that familiar hatred spark back to life as he looked at his face. But the sight only made his stomach twist tighter.

‘Why won’t you just stay being a shitty flea?’

But why would Izaya run away from the hospital anyway? The evidence was clearly there, no medical facility would discharge a patient in this state, let alone allow them to wander outside with hospital gown. Shizuo recalled their earlier encounter, Izaya had staggered to a halt when their eyes met, chest heaving like he’d run a marathon. Sweat beads had plastered dark strands of hair to his forehead, his bare feet shifting uncomfortably on the sun-scorched pavement.

‘Had he run straight from the hospital to Simon’s place ? but why?’

or..

A traitorous thought slithered through his mind,

‘Had he been looking for me?’

But if that’s the case then surely he seeks him out just to piss him off. Yeah.. that’s it. That’s gotta be it. That HAS to be it.

His head throbbed. Thinking too much always leads to trouble and nothing good comes out of it. ‘Fuck this, i want to smoke so fucking bad.’ Shizuo will figure the flea’s intentions shit out later for now he has more urgent things to do. Shizuo adjusted his grip, turning the frail arm toward the fading daylight. His thumb smoothed over the smudged barcode, wiping away flecks of dried blood to reveal the printed text beneath.

‘Alright you bastard. Let’s see what kind of shit you’ve gotten yourself into this time.’

His breath instantly hitched as he read the text,

ORIHARA, IZAYA

DOB : 05/04/1977

RAIRA GENERAL HOSPITAL - CRITICAL CARE

STATUS : DNR - PRONOUNCED 11:42 AM

CAUSE : CARDIAC ARREST

A strangled noise escaped him. “What..?”

Pronounced. Not discharged, not even transferred. but Pronounced. The medical term reserved for the dead. Yet beneath his fingertips, Izaya’s pulse fluttered like a trapped bird. Weak but it’s undeniably there. The contradiction made the fine hairs on Shizuo’s arms stand. Hospitals surely wouldn’t fucked up declarations of death. Shizuo’s grip tightened on the plastic band. Raira General Hospital wasn’t some back-alley clinic. Their protocols were strict, multiple doctors had to verify a death before a body was moved. Paperwork was signed. Families were called.

So why the hell was Izaya…- supposed to be dead Izaya, breathing in front of him ? Izaya’s chest rose in a shallow, shuddering motion. Alive.. alive while wearing a tag that declared him dead at 11:42 AM.

A single drop of sweat traced the tense line of Shizuo’s jaw before falling onto Izaya’s collarbone. The late afternoon sun pressed down like a physical weight, the air thick with the stench of garbage and iron-rich blood. But the cold spreading through Shizuo’s veins had nothing to do with the oppressive heat and everything to do with the impossible timeline forming in his mind,

11:42 AM, Orihara Izaya pronounced dead and at 3:16 PM, same Orihara Izaya gasping in an alley with fresh injuries and ragged breaths. 

‘What kind of fucking universe joke is this ?’

Shizuo did the only rational thing his fogged mind could grasp at the moment - calling Shinra. His fingers slightly trembled against the phone screen, misdialing twice before finally connecting. The line rang three times, each tone stretching longer than the last before Shinra’s cheerful voice went through,

“Yess?? Hello Shi-”

“Shinra, where are you right now ?” Shizuo cut in, his voice rougher than he intended.

A pause. Then Shinra replied,”Well, as usual, I’m in the apartment with my beloved Celty. Why, did you-”

Another cut, “Okay, i’ll be there in a few mins. I need you to…”

The words lodged in his throat like broken glass. What exactly did he need ? For Shinra to patch up Izaya’s wounds ? Since when did he of all people give a damn about the flea’s well being ?

“...Check something,” he finished lamely.

Another beat of silence. Then Shinra’s tone shifted, curiosity circled his voice, “Okaaaay ? Did you get hurt, Shizuo ? Wait- no, you wouldn’t call me if that were the case. Or rather…” a trembled sigh, “d-did you actually kill someone this time?”

Shizuo rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. “It’s about Izaya,” he gritted out, figuring he might as well tell Shinra’s the truth before the doctor came up with another bullshit. “I need you to check on him.”

Dead silence stretched between them for a bit too long.

“Shinra? Do you-”

“That’s impossible, Shizuo.”

The doctor’s voice had dropped into something cold and foreign, all traces of his usual cheer demeanor dissolved away.

Shizuo’s eyebrows furrowed. “What the hell do you mean?”

“He’s dead Shizuo”

“What..?” Shizuo’s grip tightened on both the phone and Izaya’s limp form. Shinra’s exhale crackled through the speaker, his voice grew weaker yet somehow sharper,

“Orihara Izaya is dead”

Chapter Text

-------------

Chapter 5 : Not Dead

Third-person POV

“Orihara Izaya is dead”

Shizuo’s grip on the phone creaked ominously. He fucking knew this, he’d read from the damn hospital band himself. Hearing it from Shinra’s mouth ignited something akin to irritation in his chest. He didn’t need a fucking validation. Not when Izaya’s pulse fluttered beneath his fingertips.

“Shut your mouth,” Shizuo snarled. “I’ll be there.”

A pause then Shinra’s breath hitched, “Don’t tell me you’re with Izaya’s corpse right now ?”

The word “corpse” hit like a slap to his face. Shizuo’s gaze dropped to Izaya’s in his arms, the shallow rise and fall of his ribs so visibly pronounced that the very suggestion of death was absurd.

“Who the hell you calling a corpse? He’s not fucking dead,” Shizuo growled

On the other end, Shinra went very still. ‘Shit… he’s really lost it’ he thought aloud.

Forcing calm into his voice - that he practiced to calm grieving families- he continued, “Let’s calm down, Shizuo. Just tell me where you are, and we’ll… we’ll take Izaya’s body back to the hospital together.”

Every word landed like gasoline on the fire raging in Shizuo’s chest. His remaining patience evaporated strand by strand. Well, guess the calming tone isn’t helping Shinra in any way.

“The fuck, Shinra?!” His voice ripped through the alley, scattering pigeons. “What the fuck they’re going to do ? Burn him to ash ?”

He surged to his feet in one violent motion, phone wedged between his shoulder and ear as he hooked one arm under Izaya’s knees, the other cradling his head. The informant’s body warmth spread across his chest.

Shinra’s patience frayed. “Calm down will you? That’s one of the processes, but dead bodies aren’t cremated directly at hospitals. That's why you need to calm down, there’s a procedure for these things” A flurry of frantic typing erupted in the background- Celty’s PDA screen flashing warnings that Shinra ignored.

Shizuo’s vision tinged red, “Have you gone deaf or what Shinra?! I fucking told you he’s not dead” Each word dripped with anger. “I’m bringing him to you. Don’t you dare move.”

Shinra’s desperation grew as he forced his voice into that same patronizing, sympathetic tone. “Okay-okay but listen.. I know this is hard to process and you know you can count on me. As your best friend, I’ll help you through it. May Izaya rest in-”

The line ended abruptly

—-------

Shinra’s POV

The line went dead with a hollow click.

“Wha-?! Hello ? S-Shizuo?” Shinra stared at his own phone, the call abruptly severed.

Celty shoved her PDA in his face, the text screaming,

[What happened?? Did he hang up?!]

Shinra laughed weakly, fingers trembling. “ha… hahaha… No.. rather I'm pretty sure he crushed his phone.” He slumped onto the floor, clutching Celty’s side. “Celty… save me”

“.....”

Celty’s helmet tilted as she reached out and stroked his hair.

It was not reassuring.

—---

Shizuo’s POV

One moment, the phone was pressed against his ear. Next, it was embedded in the opposite building’s brick wall. The state of his phone was pitiful, shattered beyond recognition, plastic casing split cleanly in two. Shizuo barely registered throwing it. His palm still tingled with residual static dancing along his skin.

‘That fucking doctor, blabbering fuck ton of nonsense’

He glared at the embedded phone on the wall. Another phone destroyed, another expense he couldn’t afford. But the thought evaporated quickly as it came, drowned out by the weight in his arms. The weight in his arms demanded all his attention and for now Shizuo would give all of it. 

Then-

A sudden coughing fit from Izaya made Shizuo jump in shock. Shizuo barely had time to react before warm blood splattered against his neck. Izaya’s body spasmed in his arms, a wet, choking sound tearing from his throat as his eyes flew open but its lacking life and unseeing, pupils blown black with pain.

“Fuck! Izaya?!” Shizuo skidded to a stop, adjusting his grip as the informant convulsed. Fresh blood bloomed across the front of the hospital gown, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide the alarming way Izaya’s ribs stood out with each gasping breath.

‘Shit.. what happened ? Is it internal bleeding??”

His reverie cut when Izaya’s fingers had suddenly twisted in his shirt, clinging with desperate weak strength, trembling like a dying man clutching salvation.

“S…Shi-zu…chan” The name came out mangled, more blood than sound. His trembling hand rose weakly, fingers twitching toward Shizuo’s face as if seeking anchor, only to collapse mid-reach. The informant’s arm fell slack against his own chest, his head lolling back and pale throat exposed like a surrendered blade.

Shizuo’s gaze burned into Izaya’s unconscious form, searching for something he couldn’t name. His brows furrowed, etching deep lines across his forehead as his expression turned into something unreadable.

That name.

The one sharpened into a weapon over the years laced with venom. He hated that nickname, He had spent his years fantasizing about silencing that nickname permanently. Yet now, laced with something dangerously close to desperation.. longing.. why..

‘Why the hell do I want to hear him say it again?’

“Tch.. Just hang on a little bit longer, flea.”

The words left his mouth with an emotion he refused to name. Then he was running again, Izaya’s unconscious form cradled protectively against him as he tore through the streets of Ikebukuro, scattering pedestrians aside.

—------------

Shinra’s POV

Shinra paced back and forth across the length of their apartment, wearing grooves into the floorboards with his frantic steps. Celty hovered nearby, her helmet tilted in concern as shadows flickered anxiously around her shoulders.

[Shinra, i think you’re the one who needs to calm down]

“I am trying, Celty !” he protested, hands waving wildly. “What do you think i’m doing right now?” He gestured at his full-body panic.

[Umm.. Definitely not calming down] Her PDA screen flashed on his face.

“Oh come on !” Shinra raked fingers through his already disheveled hair. “How exactly am I supposed to stay composed when I've awakened Beelzebub from the pits of hell and given it our location ! We’re not having a guest over- we’re receiving divine retribution in a tuxedo ! Maybe today’s the last day I get to see your beautiful face, Celty…” His voice cracked on the last sentence.

[See..? not calming down] Celty typed, the mechanical click of her keyboard somehow sounding judgemental.

“Celty…!!” Shinra wailed, clutching at her side dramatically.

Then - the doorbell rang.

The cheerful chime might as well have been a gunshot. Shinra emitted a strangled “Eep !!” that would have been embarrassing under any other circumstances, his entire body locking up. Slowly, with the caution of a man approaching an active landmine, he crept toward the entrance.

The pounding on the door that followed nearly shook the door off its hinges. “SHINRA! Open up ! You’re home right?”

The accompanying knock wasn’t so much a request as a structural stress test for their doorframe. Shinra watched in horror as tiny cracks webbed through the wood from the impact point.

With a deep, shuddering breath that did absolutely nothing to steady him, Shinra cracked the door open just enough to peer out with one wide terrified eye. The sight that greeted him were Shizuo’s thunderous expression and the unmistakable limp form of Orihara Izaya cradled in his arms - Oh his knees are going to liquify at any moment.

“W-welcome, Shizuo..” Shinra’s voice is several octaves higher than usual. “I-I see you’ve, ah, brought Izaya with you…” His fingers tightened on the doorframe like it was the only thing keeping him upright.

“Of course I did,” Shizuo simply replied, shifting Izaya’s limp form slightly. “That’s what I’ve been telling you this whole damn time. Now let me in so you can check on him properly.”

The door creaked ominously as Shizo leaned his weight against it. Shinra exhaled sharply through his mouth, emitting a surrender sigh, before reluctantly helping widen the door gap just enough for the massive blond and what looked like a crime scene to pass through.

As Shizuo stepped into his view, Shinra’s gaze dropped to the broken form cradled against Shizuo’s chest. He’d mentally prepared himself to confront a corpse- pale and bloodless. But this.. this was something far more disturbing. A body systematically beaten up. A cold sweat trickled down the back of Shinra’s neck as his gaze flickered towards Shizuo’s impatient gaze.

“Uhh.. Heiwajima-san?” The words squeaked out of Shinra’s, his vocal cords betraying him. His fingers twitched at his sides, “What exactly… did you do to Izaya?”

Shizuo’s jaw clenched as he adjusted his grip on the unconscious informant. “Ugh.. I’ll explain after you’ve treated him. It’s a long story”

The words settled like lead in Shinra’s mouth. His mind raced through increasingly terrible scenarios as nervous laughter bubbled up. “You know..,” he began with forced lightness, “you didn’t, by any chance.. umm.. hate Izaya so much that you beat his dead body and now need me to patch him up so you don’t get charged with illegal corpse desecration right ? 100% you wouldn’t do that right?”

Behind them, Celty’s palm met her helmet with a resounding metallic clang that echoed through the apartment.

Shizuo’s entire body tensed, his expression darkening to something truly terrifying. Before Shinra could retreat, the beast of Ikebukuro closed the distance between them in one fluid motion, his calloused hand snapping out to seize Shinra’s wrist with strong force.

‘This is it,’ Shinra thought resignedly, ‘I’ve signed my own death warrant.’ His eyes tightly shut.

But instead of knuckles meeting his jaw, for his body to go crashing through furniture, Shizuo’s crushing grip maneuvering Shinra’s hand like a puppet’s until his fingertips brushed Izaya’s inner wrist.

The realization struck faster than any punch ever could.

Warm.

Shinra’s entire demeanor shifted instantly, his doctor’s instincts overriding his fear. With precision, he pressed two fingers to the hollow of Izaya’s throat then the other hand located the radial pulse point beneath his palm.

Ba-dump..

There it was. A faint pulse but still a pulse. Each beat of life beneath his fingertips sent another shockwave of realization through Shinra’s understanding of medical possibility. 

‘No way….’

“Now you fucking believe me, you trust-issue-having bastard ?” Shizuo spat clearly annoyed. 

Shinra couldn’t meet his eyes. His mind raced through the impossible scenarios in just mere seconds, 

‘Misdiagnosis? no it’s very unlikely. Spontaneous revival? medically implausible after cardiac arrest lasting that long. His gaze swept over Izaya’s injuries, each one telling a damning story that contradicted the pronounced death he had been informed earlier. 

The bruises blooming across Izaya’s ribs showed vivid purples and reds, dead bodies didn’t bruise like this- without circulation, blood couldn’t extravasate into surrounding tissues. 

So there goes his theory about Shizuo beating up Izaya's already dead body, well to be honest, it’s impossible for Shizuo to make these shallow bruises, the damage would be ten times worse.

Most telling of all was the swollen ankle, the inflammation and edema clear indicators of a body still fighting to heal itself, something that simply couldn’t happen in a corpse.

Also, rigor mortis should have set in by now, typically beginning three hours after death, yet Izaya’s limbs moved with disturbing ease when he checked him.

He couldn’t think of an exact answer except for two possibilities, either Raira General Hospital had committed a fatal diagnostic error or..

Orihara Izaya had somehow reserved irreversible death.’

—---------

Shizuo’s POV

Shizuo’s brown eyes tracked Shinra’s trembling hands. Uncertainty flickered across Shizuo’s features. 'If Shinra, the medical expert, couldn’t comprehend this, what did that mean ?’

The silence stretched until Shinra abruptly straightened, snapping into clinical mode. “Celty,” he called, voice stripped of its usual playfulness, “Prepare the operating space and help Shizuo transfer him. I’ll scrub in.”

Celty’s helmet jerked up in visible surprise, her shadows extended toward Shizuo coiling anxiously before her PDA flashed,

[Heiwajima-san, may I?]

Shizuo stared blankly for three full seconds before processing the request. “Oh. oh yeah, go ahead.” His arms reluctantly uncurled, transferring Izaya’s lifeless form into Celty’s waiting shadows with surprising gentleness. The tendrils cradled Izaya like black silk, carefully floating him toward the concealed medical bay.

--------------

By the time Shinra emerged from his bedroom, the transformation was striking. Gone was the panicked, sweating mess moments ago. In his place stood Dr. Kishitani, clad in sterile scrubs, gloves already snapped into place. Shizuo’s eyebrows lifted slightly at the sudden professionalism.

“Ah, Shizuo,” Shinra said briskly as he stopped in front of the operating room, “wait in the living room. Celty will keep you company while I check on Izaya.” Without waiting for a response, he disappeared behind the door, the door clicking shut.

“...Okay.” Shizuo’s reply came clipped and hollow, his boots scuffing against the floorboards as he trudged toward the living area. Celty already patting a cleared space on their well-worn couch with her shadows as a clear invitation for Shizuo to sit.

[Please, make yourself at home :) :)]

The cheerful emoji glaringly incongruous with the tension thickening the air. ‘The emoji is cute,’ Shizuo thought absently as he sank onto the couch. His fingers dug into his knees, leaving faint indents in the fabric of his pants. The silence stretched but this time it’s rather uncomfortable until Celty’s keyboard clacked to life.

[Please excuse Shinra’s earlier behavior] she typed, shadows curling apologetically around the edges of her PDA. 

[He’s just lost and struggling when something doesn’t align with his logic.]

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Shizuo waved a hand dismissively, not wanting to make a fuss over small things, though his jaw remained clenched.

“So… you guys knew, huh?”

[Knew what?]

“That Izaya is supposed to be dead.” The words tasted like a lie.

Celty’s shoulders slumped. [Yes.. Before..] Her typing slowed, as if choosing words carefully. [Izaya registered Shinra as his guardian. So all medical updates from him came to us. We should have told you about something this significant.]

Shizuo barked a humorless laugh. “Nah, good call not telling me. I hate Izaya, Izaya hates me. Not telling me was probably Shinra’s one smart decision.” He paused, fingers stilling against his knees.

“Wait.. Did you say Izaya listed Shinra as his guardian?”

Celty stiffened, her helmet tilting in clear surprise. [Yes?] A brief hesitation before she continued, [His parents are always overseas and his sisters…] The shadows formed a protective curl. [He didn’t want to burden them.]

Shizuo reeled back slightly. The idea of Izaya showing such consideration like protecting his sisters from the psychological toll of his potential death, settled uncomfortably in his chest. But that wasn’t the information he wanted.

“DNR,” the acronym dropped like a brick. “Izaya has a DNR. Why?”

Celty jerked as if struck, her shadows recoiling. 

The PDA screen remained blank for several heartbeats before flickering with half-formed letters that erased themselves. her distress was palpable when Shinra’s voice cut through the tension from behind them.

“It’s me.” The doctor stood in the doorway, gloves had been peeled away and his scrub hung loosely on his frame. “I signed the DNR”

Time seemed to stop. Shizuo rose slowly to his full height, the air around him thickening with barely restrained violence as shadows around him recoiled. 

“What,” he enunciated with terrifying calm. “did you just say?”

Chapter Text

Chapter 6 : Disbelief

Izaya felt heavy, wait no- weightless even. Like he was floating in a void, drifting toward some unknown destination without resistance. His body was so unbearably heavy, he couldn’t even summon the energy to lift a finger. Not that he cares, not really.

Then a voice cut through the haze.

“Izaya”

…

He recognized it, he recognized the voice more than he could recall his own name. That voice was more familiar to him than the sound of his own laughter. But his body betrayed him. His mouth refused to move and his jaw might as well have been locked in place. His eyes stayed shut no matter how hard he tried.

Still, that voice came again now tinged with frustration and something that almost sounded like hurt.

“Izaya… why won’t you answer me?”

His lips twitched but no sound came out, not even a breath. Izaya can feel the panic crept in.

‘No.. no, I'm here. I’ve always been here… for you, Shizuo…”

The voice repeated but it is growing distant now as if the speaker was walking away.

“Izaya.. I..za..ya..”

No- wait !. Don’t leave. Please

And suddenly his eyes snapped open.

Bright.

He squinted through the sharp glow, He can feel his pupils slowly adjusting and then he saw it. There he was, Shizuo. A tall, broad back facing him in the distance like a memory materialized. A flicker of relief surged through him.

“Shizuo!” Izaya called out, cracking under the weight of desperation.

The tall figure paused and then slowly turned around.

It was Shizuo. Same tousled golden-blond hair like it never learned to settle, just like the man himself and those piercing brown eyes of his, always so sharp as ever. He has that same stature of Heiwajima Shizuo that he always remembered. But.. something was wrong. What stood before him looked like Shizuo. Every detail was perfectly in place, but it felt off. Izaya knew this wasn’t the Shizuo he’d spent years chasing… loving.. 

Izaya froze mid-step, the breath caught in his throat,

“Who.. are you ?”

The thing wearing Shizuo’s face twisted into something monstrous, the corners of his lips curled into a grin Izaya had only seen in nightmares. It widened further revealing bared teeth like a predator in front of their prey.

“Drop dead, you disgusting flea.”

And without another word, a street sign came hurtling toward him at breakneck speed, the edges glinting like a blade.

‘I can’t move.. Why can’t I move?? I’ll die.. I’m going to die. Shizuo is going to kill me.’

His Shizuo ?

That final thought echoed as the twisted image of Shizo’s grin replayed like a cruel memory in his head. His chest ached, hurt even. Then-

He jolted awake.

Izaya’s eyes flew open as sweat clung to his skin. His chest heaved violently and a deep painful cough erupted from his lungs as he clawed at the fabric of his hospital gown, clutching his chest. He gasped over and over but his lungs struggling to catch up.

‘A dream.. just a dream..’

But why did it still feel like dying?

He took a shaky breath and blinked through the dizziness. Slowly, he looked around to scan the room he’s in. A creeping anxiety coiling in his stomach.

‘Where… where the hell am I?’ The space felt foreign yet familiar enough to twist his gut. Then he looked down just to see an IV line snaked into the crook of his arm.

‘Hospital? Don’t tell me this is another timeline jump..’

Before he could dwell further, a loud commotion broke out somewhere outside the room. Against all better judgment, curiosity pushed him into motion. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, every movement stiff and painful and he slowly staggered toward the sound

—--------

“What,” Shizuo said, his tone is dangerously calm, “did you just say?”

He had Shinra by the collar, yanked forward so roughly the seams of his lab coat strained under the grip. Their faces were inches apart, the air between them tense with violence.

Celty’s shadows whipped around in alarm, rising instinctively to intervene until Shinra raised a hand as a sign for her to not step in.

“Answer me, damn it!”

Shinta didn’t look up, in fact he couldn’t. His gaze was fixed on the floor as if searching for something that’s not there. 

“I had my reasons,” Shinta muttered.

Shizuo didn’t buy it in the slightest, “don’t give me that bullshit,” he growled. “All i see is a doctor who left someone to die”

“YOU don’t get to say that!” Shinta snapped. “You’ve hated him your whole damn life, don't act like you suddenly give a damn now ! Why the hell do you even care?”

Shizuo froze.

Yeah, fucking good question. He didn’t know either, didn’t even make sense to him.

Shinra’s voice cracked with hesitation, “You and I both know everything would be easier if he was just.. gone.”

He swallowed hard, forcing the next words out before guilt silenced him completely. “You and I both know we’ve wished he’d disappear. But wishing isn’t choosing. He chose this and all I did was honor his choice.”

The words echoed between them like a final verdict. Shizuo’s fist twitched ready to lash out, to pull Shinra forward and smash his fist into the doctor’s face to snap Shinra out of it already but.. He’s not wrong, isn’t he ?

Shizuo wanted the flea gone.. he even dreamt of it, the time where Orihara Izaya no longer exists.

His rage dissolved into something heavier. Shizo slumped slightly, his shoulder sagging because the weight of Shinra’s words hit somewhere deeper than his fists ever could.

“...And you agreed to it, Shinra.” a voice cut through the storm, barely above a whisper.

Both men froze. The voice was unmistakable. Shinra’s eyes widened a fraction as he turned slowly to the figure standing by the door.

“...Izaya,” he breathed.

Izaya stood there, pale and weak, one hand still on the doorframe for support. His hospital gown hung loosely from his thin frame. His skin was pale, eyes sunken, but his gaze was sharp.

Izaya then averted his gaze to the man who still held the doctor by the collar, looking like he wanted to tear the world apart yet there’s no words coming out from his mouth. So Izaya spoke for him, his gaze hardened, “and.. you, too” he said with a quiet disbelief tone.

Chapter Text

“...Izaya,” he breathed.

Izaya stood there, pale and weak, one hand still on the doorframe for support. His hospital gown hung loosely from his thin frame. His skin was pale, eyes sunken, but his gaze was sharp.

Izaya then averted his gaze to the man who still held the doctor by the collar, looking like he wanted to tear the world apart yet there’s no words coming out from his mouth. So Izaya spoke for him, his gaze hardened, “and.. you, too” he said with a quiet disbelief tone.

• Shizuo’s POV

Something felt wrong. Unbelievably wrong, and Shizuo knew this from the moment he laid eyes on Izaya. It wasn’t just the absence of that infuriating smirk of his that he had come to associate with the man. It was the way he stood- wait no it was the way he didn’t stand like himself. Izaya usually moved with calculated thought, his gestures always exaggerated that screamed arrogance.

But now, he stood there awkwardly almost hesitant with none of his usual theatrical bullshit. His posture was no longer arrogant but rather strangely open. Shizuo realized that it made him look exposed, vulnerable almost. He looked like he could break at any moment for god sake. That thought made Shizuo’s chest tighten because Izaya would never be seen as fragile, not once in all the years of chasing. 

What unsettled Shizuo the most were Izaya’s eyes. They weren’t sharp anymore. Shizuo had memorized that look over time, the one filled with superiority and sadistic delight, always watching people as though they were pawns in his grand scheme. But now, that cruel gleam has been replaced by something softer. It made no sense. This was Izaya’s face, Izaya’s voice, but the soul behind those crimson eyes belonged to a stranger, someone that he doesn’t know. Shizuo could tell instantly- this isn’t Orihara Izaya

As if reading his mind, Izaya broke the silence. His voice was lower, a bit hesitant, “I guess there’s no need to hide it from all of you anymore,” he said, his eyes dropping slightly, “I don’t see the point in lying anyway.” He paused, then closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, holding it for a second before releasing it slowly. When he opened his eyes again, there was something resolute in his gaze as though he had made a decision he could not take back. 

“I’m not Orihara Izaya. Well not the one you all knew at least.”

The silence in the room deepened. The quiet was so thick it seemed to press in from all sides. Izaya, or whoever he is, looked at each of them in turn and then added but firmer as if trying to make sure they understood, “I’m not from this world.”

• Izaya’s POV

[Ehhh ???]

“Hah?”

“Eh..?”

All three of them spoke at once, confusion plastered on their faces in varying degrees of disbelief. It would’ve been funny in any other situation but now he just sighed. It was predictable really but that didn’t make it any less exhausting

He didn’t even fully understand himself how the hell he ended up in this situation and now he had to explain it to a bunch of familiar strangers who looked at him like he’d gone crazy. Similar people yet none of them looked at him the same. Not even Shizuo, and that unnerved him more than he wanted to admit.

He muttered under his breath while rubbing his temple, half cursing the random thugs who had beaten the crap out of him earlier. He didn’t even know who they were and now his head was pounding then to make it worse, He could also still feel the throbbing pain from his previously dislocated ankle. “Can we just… sit down or something? My head’s killing me, and I’m really not sure if I have the strength to keep standing.”

Shinra blinked, then gave a hesitant nod. He still looked confused but now curiosity was starting to take over. You could almost see the gears turning in his head, already halfway through forming a theory about parallel universes or brain trauma or whatever weird science fiction excuse he could cling to.

He turned toward Celty and motioned for her to fix the furniture that had been tossed around during Shizuo’s earlier outburst. Without a word, Celty moved quickly, her body language focused a little stiff like she wasn't entirely sure if this was real or not, but decided to go along with it for now.

Meanwhile, Shizuo still hadn’t moved an inch. His eyes were fixed on Izaya like he was trying to piece together a puzzle he didn’t even have all the edges for. The intensity of his stare wasn’t subtle at all.

Izaya noticed immediately. Well how could he not? The gaze felt like a knife. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, trying to ease the lingering headache from earlier. “You’re gonna kill me with those eyes. Save your thinking, Heiwajima. I’ll explain everything in a second”

Shizuo’s entire body went still as if Izaya had struck a nerve or two. Izaya noticed it.

‘Oh great,’ Izaya thought bitterly. 

‘What now? you flinched the same way when i called you Shizuo before. Is Heiwajima not your name again ? What do people call you in this world then ? One-cell protozoan ??’ The stupid nickname rolled off his tongue like his second nature. Izaya let out a scoff under his breath, unsure whether the humor or the familiarity unsettled him more.

Before he could spiral deeper into that thought, Shinra’s voice broke the strange moment, calling both of them to take a seat. Izaya gave one last glance at Shizuo, then turned and followed Shinra without another word.

• Shizuo’s POV

Shizuo finally sat, dropping himself onto the couch with a thud sound. elbows on his knees, he laced his fingers together and brought his hands to his mouth, as if trying to look contemplative but only managing to seem more intimidating. He stared at the raven across from him, each more frustrating than the last.

‘What the hell is going on? Why the hell did Izaya- this Izaya call me “Heiwajima” ? Like, seriously? As if calling me Shizuo before wasn’t alarming enough, he really had the audacity to spit that name out of his mouth. The hell was that about? Either this bastard was completely serious about being sent from another world, which was absolute bullshit by any standard of common sense, or he had such a bad hit to the head that it might as well be amnesia. Because Orihara Izaya and politeness don’t even belong in the same damn sentence. Okay.. okay.. this is not Izaya, yeah.. this is not the same Izaya. Or it’s the same Izaya who tried to trick me.. but..’

But it wasn’t just it. It was the way he talked. Too soft. Too damn soft. Like, genuinely soft. There was no sarcasm, not even playful malice laced in between the words like Izaya always had. It was all... genuine. Which was so wrong. SO. WRONG. It made Shizuo’s skin crawl. The worst part is that the soft tone made it harder to get mad, and that made Shizuo even more pissed. He couldn’t fight back the way he used to. Not when the guy looked like this, talked like this, acted like this. What the hell was happening?

As if sensing Shizuo restlessness, his deep thought was cut abruptly by Shinra’s voice, “Ahem! So… what do you mean by you’re not the Orihara Izaya we know ?”

Shizuo blinked, snapped slightly out of his spiraling thoughts, as all attention turned to the man who still claimed to be Izaya. The raven met Shinra’s gaze, his voice clear, “Simple. You should be the one who knows this. I was signed as DNR, right? And you were already informed about me passing, weren’t you?”

• Izaya’s POV

Shinra hesitated, visibly thrown off. “Well yeah… but you’re here now,” he muttered, his brows knotting in confusion. “Yet you told me you're from a different world, which is not…” he paused, raking his fingers through his messy hair, “not possible. Even when we try to see it from scientific perspectives.”

Izaya tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly, “Based on those medical equipments you have there, you’re a doctor right?” Izaya said with a hint of irritation because he knows that he would have to go to such lengths to get the stubborn doctor to believe him, ‘some things never change huh.’ “Then tell me what are the chances of someone coming back to life when they’ve already been pronounced dead and assigned DNR?”

Shinra visibly bristled at that, his expression shifting into something between offended and challenged. It was rare for someone to question his medical logic so directly, “At least resurrection still makes more sense than dimension-travel,” he muttered under his breath though there was no real conviction behind it. Despite the uncertainty in his voice, the two others sitting beside him gave small nods, seemingly agreeing with his logic.

Izaya exhaled hard through his nose, folding his arms over his chest. “Look,” he began. “I wish I could give all of you a better answer,” Izaya said, his tone softer than anyone expected. “But I really can’t. My best guess is the same as yours. I have no idea how any of this happened. All I can tell you is that I’m sure and 100% sure that I’m in a different world than my own.”

He paused for a moment, as if weighing how much of his truth he should really share with the people in front of him. Shizuo’s stare was heavy, as if he really listened to all of the things he said, he continued. “Last time, right before I was sent here, I was lying in bed. In my apartment here until sleep took me in.” Two heads in front of him straightened their back as Celty shadows emerged in front of him showing him her PDA.

[So you live here ? in Ikebukuro?]

Caught off guard, Izaya blinked, then gave a small nod. The room fell into an odd silence for a moment as the three of them exchanged glances. Shinra motioned for him to keep going, though Izaya’s mind briefly wandered.

‘Huh. So in this timeline I don’t live in Ikebukuro. I’ll ask later where this version of me stays. Well also I live with Shizuo there but that’d be unnecessary information since..’

He paused for a long beat, swallowing something heavy that didn’t quite make it past his throat. “Anyway… the next thing I remember is that I was gasping under some kind of sheet so I shoved it off, by then I realized I was in a hospital. I asked the nurse who looked like she’d seen a ghost, where I was. She gave me the name of the hospital but it didn’t match what I remembered from my world. It was similar but not the same. Just off enough to tell me something was wrong.”

He leaned back slightly, letting the tension slowly slide from his shoulders. “And that’s it,” he finished with a small scoff. “ That’s the whole story. Don’t ask me why it happened. I wish I knew and right now, your guesses are just as good as mine.”

“But Izaya, why were you covered in bruises and had to have Shizuo carrying your body here?”

Izaya slightly shocked and stole a short glance towards Shizuo, ‘He carried me ? what.. well that makes sense now that i woke up in this place and not some alleyway. But still.. Why? He tried to kill me before! Ughh i really don't know how that brain of yours operate Heiwajima Shizuo’

‘Isn’t it weird ? even now, i still can’t understand you’

• Shizuo’s POV

"Uhh, is that so? I met Shizuo in front of Simon’s diner place and then he suddenly threw a whole vending machine at me and threatened me to never come back to Ikebukuro."

Shizuo flinched at the sudden mention of his name.

"Aha... hahah... I see, I see. I suppose you didn’t have that sort of encounter in your previous world..." Shinra said, his tone light, clearly trying to ease the mood.

Izaya gave a small nod.

"Wait, then it means... did you actually get beat up by Shizuo?"

"HEY! I didn’t-” Shizuo’s voice rang out suddenly like he was trying to desperately protect his pride

"N-no, not by him." Izaya shook his head slightly. "I kinda fled from the scene since it was so confusing and overwhelming for me. Then I tripped on my way, and some guys beat me up, saying stuff about how I ruined their lives… even though I have no idea what I’d done."

His gaze dropped, the faintest signs of sadness and exhaustion flickering across his face, signs Shizuo didn’t miss. Damn. Now he actually felt bad for the raven in front of him. 

Izaya went on, "After that, Shizuo showed up, and those guys immediately surrendered and ran off. The rest is kinda blurry. We exchanged a word or two, but before I could process anything, I was out cold. Honestly, I was sure Shizuo would finish me off right there and then… but here I am, I guess.” Izaya finished with a sigh. Shizuo was taken aback by how calmly Izaya recounted it all, like he was talking about someone else’s story instead of his own.

Suddenly, Shinra shot Shizuo an unamused look, with deadpan stares that somehow managed to say, ‘Yeah?, why didn’t you?? Huhhh??’

“Urgh..” Shizuo responded with a low grunt then he turned his face away that practically translated to, ‘Oh fuck off my tail, i knew better than to kill someone who’s unconscious.’

But Shinra was far from done. His expression shifted into something more amused, eyebrows slightly as his inner voice screamed loud enough for Shizuo to hear, ‘Oya oya? So Shizuo-kun has gone soft ? And that towards Izaya of all people?’

Two veins popped on Shizuo’s forehead. Without hesitation, he grabbed Shinra’s face in one large hand. Shoving him back while glaring with pure murderous aura as if to say, ‘I said Fuck. Off. you shitty doctor’

There were so many internal dialogues happening between them. While Izaya with a dumbfounded expression slowly turned his head toward Celty.

Celty, just as lost, met his gaze. After a pause, she gave a helpless shrug

“...”

“Ahem… now you all trust me ? Then I have a favor to ask-”

“Wait a minute” Shizuo cut in.

Izaya halted mid-sentence, raising his eyebrows in a silent prompt to go on, “Something you didn't tell us yet,” Shizuo continued, his tone calm but edged. "Why were you at Simon’s sushi place? Judging from your story, you clearly ran straight there from the hospital. Why…?"

Were you looking for me? The question lingered unsaid.

Shizuo caught the subtle shift. Izaya hadn’t expected that line of questioning. The informant stood frozen, his posture became rigid, eyes widening by the slightest fraction.

"I…" Izaya began, but the words caught in his throat.

• Izaya’s POV

‘Yes, I’ve come to see you. I want to hear your voice, see your face, feel your hands on my waist – always wrapping me in gentleness despite your inhuman strength. If I know you’re alive, there’s nothing else in this world I want except to return to your embrace.’

Of course he couldn’t say something like that now, did he? This Shizuo DESPISED Orihara Izaya. Saying something like that would be beyond awkward. For a split second, Izaya’s mind raced, trying to shape another reason, any reason, but nothing came.

‘Should I tell him? No… but then what do I say instead? Ah, to hell with it. None of this is real anyway.’

“I… I’ve come looking for you, Shizuo,” Izaya finally spoke, his voice hesitant.

Shizuo’s back straightened instantly. Shinra and Celty were equally surprised too. Shizuo’s expression darkened though there was something uncertain in his gaze.

“Why?” His voice was low, like he was trying to confirm something.

Izaya’s mind scrambled for a plausible answer before blurting, “Umm… i-it’s because you were my best friend!”

“Haah??” “Whatt??” [!!]

This is bad. He had to elaborate, fast. “Look, I’ve been with Shizuo—my Shizuo—uhk… I mean, the Shizuo from my world… for a long time now. We’re good friends. And realizing I’ve been thrown into another world, of course I’d want to tell a friend about it! And… and Shizuo was the first person who came to mind, so… I…”

He trailed off, feeling utterly pathetic, desperately hoping they’d just believe him on this one. His gaze flicked to Shizuo, still watching him, brow furrowed, puzzlement in those golden eyes… and was that a flicker of regret?

“Woah,” Shinra broke in casually, “so you two must be really good friends, huh?”

Izaya gave a few quick nods, “Mm.” Hopefully it was convincing enough to pass.

“Well… I couldn’t say the same here. Haha.” Shinra’s gaze slid toward Shizuo in a pointed side glance.

“Ah?” Shizuo’s voice was sharp, almost offended

‘I can obviously see that,’ Izaya thought, letting out an internal sigh.

[Haha… but you’re not too different from our Izaya. He’d look for Shizuo through every alley and street in Ikebukuro — well, that, but for entirely different reasons.]

Izaya tilted his head, confused

“Hah! I could sit here and list every single thing he’s done to me, and I wouldn’t be done until next week,” Shizuo suddenly burst out, voice sharp. “That flea always finds a way to piss me off. He accused me of a murder I didn’t commit, got me fired by spinning some fake story, even hired assassins to kill me! That’s just—” he threw up his hands, “—fucked up.”

The outburst made Izaya flinch.

“Whoa… why would he do such a thing?” Izaya asked, cautious.

“Of course to PISS ME OFF!” Shizuo barked, his mood darkening even further.

Then, under his breath, Izaya muttered, “Uh… what I mean is.. what did me— I mean, this Izaya — gain from that, anyway?”

Shizuo blinked, as if the answer was obvious. “I told you. The sole purpose was to piss me off. And that psycho actually enjoyed every second of it, especially when I started to chase him off.” He glared toward the floor. “He’s just… messed up in the head.”

“Hahh… that’s why you need to learn to control your anger, Shizuo-kun,” Shinra cut in lazily. “You obviously knew he was rage-baiting you, and you took the bait every single time.”

Shizuo’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Shut up, Shinra, before I give you your damn bait right now.” Shinra did shut up and promptly ducked behind Celty like a cowardly eel.

Izaya, meanwhile, was taken aback. ‘So the other him really went that far just to enrage Shizuo? It was… oddly familiar in a strange way.’

It reminded him of memories that felt close enough to touch yet impossibly distant now. Times when Shizuo would be so locked in on something that Izaya would quietly sneak up and braid his hair, making him look stupidly cute, like some kindergarten kid. Shizuo would only notice later, in the bathroom mirror, and come storming out, chasing Izaya around the apartment with that mix of outrage and embarrassment Izaya adored. Or that one time, before Shizuo’s illness really started showing its teeth, Celty had recommended lip balm for his cracked lips from his smoking habit and Izaya had mischievously swapped it with real lipstick only for the prank to backfire spectacularly when Shizuo decided to “punish” him by leaving kiss marks all over his skin in the middle of doing it. Or the time where he used to fake slips just to have Shizuo panic, shouting his name and sprinting over, only to catch Izaya in those ridiculously strong arms. And in winter, he’d press his icy hands to the back of Shizuo’s neck just to make him flinch, then Shizuo grabbed his face in revenge only for it to backfire, because Shizuo’s hands were always so warm. 

Izaya smiles unintentionally ‘A bit similar but of course this one is a bit more unhinged though’ he thought.

“Pfft.” The laugh slipped out before he could stop it.

Shizuo blinked, then realized the sound had come from the raven across from him. His eyes narrowed. “Ah? What’s that? Did you just laugh?”

Noticing the faint sulk in Shizuo’s voice, Izaya lifted both hands in surrender. “Ah, sorry, sorry. Can’t help it, but…”

His gaze softened, drifting downward as if lost in some far memories. “If it were me… it would mean I just wanted to get your attention.”

Shizuo froze mid-blink, the sudden stillness making the air feel heavier between them.

‘D-Did I just say something wrong?’ Izaya’s mind raced, an uneasy twist curling in his stomach. He straightened slightly, forcing a small laugh as if to smooth it over. “O-of course, that’s just my way of thinking. Obviously your Izaya and I are completely different people, haha…”

“Okay enough about Shizuo, i want to ask one or two things too !” Shinra blurted suddenly but when Shinra was about to speak, Celty already shoved PDA in front of Izaya. Shinra grumbled but eventually resigned. Izaya just chuckles at that

[Orihara-san, can you tell me more about your world ?]

“Uhh what do you want to know? Ah, also you can just call me Izaya, it’s a bit weird hearing you calling me Orihara and I’ll also call you Celty.”

[Umm.. Like how different our world is compared to yours. And okay Izaya it is then ^^]

Izaya nodded lightly. “Alright. From what I can tell so far, this world is just slightly different from mine. Most things are the same, but some details are off.”

He lifted a hand, counting off casually. “For example, you’re a Headless Rider of Ikebukuro, but I remember your helmet being mostly blue with a bit of yellow and not the other way around. Shinra has always been a doctor, but here he’s acting like an underground doctor, patching up whoever comes by. In my world, he’s licensed, though he insists on running his own clinic.”

“Shizuo looks the same, but it seems like we don’t get along here the way we did back in my world. Simon is running a sushi place, even though he’s Russian, which is kind of funny. My sisters, Kururi and Mairu, are still inseparable and just as much trouble as always. Then there’s Kasuka-san, Shizuo’s brother, and his girlfriend, Ruri-san.”

He paused briefly before continuing. “I also recognize a few people from the Awakusu family, and of course, Tom-san and Vorona who are working with Shizuo.” Izaya rattled it all off almost absently, like he was half-talking to Celty, half-muttering to himself as the pieces lined up in his head.

Izaya gave a small shrug. “That’s what comes to mind for now.”

“Huh, so it’s basically lined up with what we’re having here then, except some parts..” Shizuo stated

[I see blue helmet huh] Celty took off her helmet and inspect it briefly

“Ehhh, isn't that boring to be a plain doctor? Not when you have interesting supernatural things happening around you??” Shinra replied lamely

“Pfft. you still the same as ever Shinra. The only interesting thing happening around you is your wife, you know. Well… and maybe Shizuo”

[WIFE!?] “WIFEE!?” “Wife??”

“W-whatt whatt ???” Izaya almost jumped from his seat. “Aren’t you two not together ???”

“You thinkk ??” Shinra’s face flushed beet red, while Celty sat stiff as a statue. Shizuo looked a bit perplexed but didn’t exactly protest at the idea.

“Well aren’t you?? you guys are living together right??”

“Uh.. yeah b-but –”

[I-Izaya, we are married in your world right?] Celty quickly typed.

Ah, I see… these two haven’t tied the knot yet,’ Izaya concluded inwardly. Out loud, he nodded. “Yeah, you’re married. Happily so.” Then, with a sly glance toward Shinra, he added, “…almost too happy.”

Shinra suddenly stood up, stomping toward Izaya. He grabbed Izaya by the shoulders, shaking him with surprising strength. “Izaya-kun, d-did we do it?? You know—having children and all that stu—AUUGH!” His words were cut off as Celty’s helmet flew straight into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

“Celty… that hurts you know,” Shinra whimpered

[WHAT IS THAT QUESTION SHINRA!?] Celty’s shadows lashed out, wrapping tightly around Shinra’s neck in a chokehold 

“O-okay okay time out Celty..” He wheezed, patting at her shadows circling around his neck.

Izaya stood there, watching the ridiculous scene unfold. A small smile tugged at his lips from the familiarity. His eyes drifted to Shizuo, who hadn’t said a word. The blond just sat there, gazing at the couple, but his expression looked distant, as if his mind was somewhere else entirely.

‘There’s something troubling him,’ Izaya thought.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Izaya began to move closer. He noticed Shizuo catch his approach from the corner of his eye, and to his amusement, the brute awkwardly shuffled over a few inches.

Izaya smirked faintly, taking the movement as silent permission. Without hesitation, he slid into the newly made space and sat down beside Shizuo.

“Heh.. seems like they’ll be going at it for a while,” Izaya commented, tilting his head toward Shinra and Celty’s chaos.

“Hmph. Yeah.. bet they are,” Shizuo muttered back. And that was it. The exchange fizzled out almost as quickly as it began, leaving a stretched out silence between them. Only the couple muffled banter filled the room. Izaya’s smirk faltered. He internally cursed himself for even coming over, the entire situation he’s in is so awkward.

With a soft sigh, he risked a glance to the side, his eyes briefly examining the blond beside him.

‘When he’s not grumpy all the time, he really is the spitting image of him..’

Izaya’s gaze softened as he studied Shizuo’s side profile. The way his blond hair trickled just above his eyes, close enough to shadow them yet never quite hiding that sharp gaze of his. That same gaze Izaya remembered so well.. strong, unwavering, and absolutely stunning. It was unfair how effortlessly he could look like that. Izaya felt his chest tighten, he found himself melting at the sight before he could even stop himself.

“Hey, Izaya.”

The sudden call snapped him out of his thoughts. He jolted slightly. “!!.. Yeah?”

Shizuo didn’t turn his head, still staring straight ahead. “You said Tom and Vorona are my colleagues. So… am I a debt collector too, in your world ?”

‘Too?’ Izaya caught that choice of word but brushed past it. “Ah, yeah, that’s right.”

Shizuo let out a low breath, “But… Why? The reason I work with them here is because I kept getting fired from every other job. All because of one annoying person.” His eyes flickered toward Izaya for a brief moment.

Izaya immediately averted his gaze, lips twitching. ‘Ugh, don’t look at me like that. It’s not like “I” was the one who did it’

Shizuo leaned back slightly, his voice softening as if remembering. “Tom-san was kind enough to take me under his wing. So, I stuck around and that’s how I ended up with this job until now.”

Izaya blinked, then cleared his throat. “Oh.. uh.. Actually, you worked two jobs in my world. Bartending at night and debt collecting during the day.”

That caught Shizuo’s attention. His brows furrowed as he turned just enough to glance at Izaya. “Two jobs?”

Izaya hesitated, his words stalling in his throat. ‘Do I tell him the truth – that he had to pay for his own medical bills? No.. this one isn’t sick. I don’t want to cast some bad omen over him.’

He forced a casual tone, “You were.. struggling financially. Let’s say you had to fill the role of provider while also paying off a huge debt of yours.”

Shizuo found himself nodding slowly, a crooked scoff slipping out. “Hah. Even in another dimension I’m still stuck struggling, huh? Bound to debt yet working as a debt collector. That’s pretty damn funny.”

Izaya scoffed too, though softer almost like he was laughing with him rather than at him. The sound caught in the space between them until Shizuo broke it. “Wait.. provider?”

Izaya's brows twitched. “Hm?”

Shizuo’s stare bore into him now. “Uh.. was I married too there?”

The question hit Izaya like a blade. His mouth opened, then closed.

“You said the reason I worked two jobs was to fill my role as a provider,” Shizuo pressed.

‘Oh curse your mouth, Izaya!’ he scolded himself internally. He could feel Shizuo’s gaze pinning him in place, waiting for an answer.