Breaking Point 1
anonymous
February 24 2010, 18:51:49 UTC
It was very late at night. Only the artificial lights of garish neon warded of the deep darkness that was not yet on the edges of dawn. An insidious red glow invaded Shinra’s office and gave him an uneasy feeling. There were times when he resented not having a license and being forced to work in shady places opposite of illegal casinos, strip joints and brothels. This was such a time. These last hours of the night often felt warped to him. It was of course highly unscientific of him and if asked under the sun Shinra would laugh off such superstitious of silly. But tonight something was perhaps more amiss than usual. Shinra had little paperwork to handle, that was one of the advantages of working outside the law, so he was on his way out when a knock at the window pane startled him considerably. Framed by the crimson neon was a creature born from the many distortions of the city. For a split second Shinra had the clear impression that this was what Izaya truly was and he almost spun on his heels to flee from the smiling lunacy behind the glass. But before he could do anything to that effect Izaya had smashed the window with his bare fist and was already making his way through the hole of bleak night and into the room without as much as batting an eyelash. Even though they were on the 10th floor. “Hello, Shinra. Long time no see. So this is your hospital now? Not too bad, I must say. Not too bad at all.” Shinra was afraid despite himself. Over the years he had learnt how to handle what he termed Izaya’s functional madness but rumors had reached him that the precarious balance between sharp intelligence and intelligence had finally come undone. “How have you been doing, Izaya? And next time take the elevator.” “Same old. You know how it goes, people to see, places to go, people to kill, places to mess up.” Izaya stepped on broken glass as he made a tour of the office. His hand was bloody from hitting the window but if he noticed it he paid it no heed whatsoever. “Why don’t you let me bandage that up for you?” “Oh? Just like the good old days?” Izaya produced his switchblade and immediately the razor was out with one fluid motion. The predator-like instincts that Shinra knew Izaya to possess retained all of their danger but were somewhat off kilter, as if calibrated to a broken scale. “Just put down the knife and let’s talk, okay?” Izaya narrowed his eyes, for a moment it seemed as if he was preparing an attack from which Shinra knew that he could not escape. Then just as sudden as he had sprang into menace Izaya threw himself on a nearby armchair and proceeded to toss the blade into the air- it twirled a few times, reflecting shards of reddish glints- catching it only to toss it again. Shinra was almost hypnotized by the swirling motion. The spell was broken when Izaya closed his hand over the switchblade as it descended. Blood gushed freely and trickled to the floor. The tangy scent of metal was heavy upon the air and not even the wind that flitted through the broken window could disperse it. Izaya stared at nothing in particular. A great silence descended. Izaya was too shocked for words but he willed himself to speak nonetheless. “Izaya, just what happened to you?” “Say, Shinra…those good old days were not half bad, were they?” As one immersed in a dream Izaya increased the grip on the biting lip of the blade so that it bit into his flesh freely. Shinra approached him cautiously, his pulse beating wildly on his ears. “Drop the knife, please. Something’s wrong but this isn’t going to solve-” “‘Wrong’? Nothing’s wrong.” Both of Izaya’s hands were smeared with blood. He eased his grip and the blade fell to reveal a gashing cut. Izaya glanced at his wounds with little interest. “I wonder what Shizu-chan is doing now. I don’t suppose you’d know, Shinra?” While Izaya rambled Shinra slipped a tranquilizer shot into a pocket. “Tell you what, how about I go get him?” Izaya nodded calmly. As if he was not bleeding. Shinra knew that this was his opportunity and he closed the space between them and gave him the shot without even removing the syringe from his pocket. It was the kind of thing certified doctors would not do for fear of liabilities but Shinra had no qualms about it.
Shinra had little paperwork to handle, that was one of the advantages of working outside the law, so he was on his way out when a knock at the window pane startled him considerably. Framed by the crimson neon was a creature born from the many distortions of the city. For a split second Shinra had the clear impression that this was what Izaya truly was and he almost spun on his heels to flee from the smiling lunacy behind the glass. But before he could do anything to that effect Izaya had smashed the window with his bare fist and was already making his way through the hole of bleak night and into the room without as much as batting an eyelash. Even though they were on the 10th floor.
“Hello, Shinra. Long time no see. So this is your hospital now? Not too bad, I must say. Not too bad at all.”
Shinra was afraid despite himself. Over the years he had learnt how to handle what he termed Izaya’s functional madness but rumors had reached him that the precarious balance between sharp intelligence and intelligence had finally come undone.
“How have you been doing, Izaya? And next time take the elevator.”
“Same old. You know how it goes, people to see, places to go, people to kill, places to mess up.”
Izaya stepped on broken glass as he made a tour of the office. His hand was bloody from hitting the window but if he noticed it he paid it no heed whatsoever.
“Why don’t you let me bandage that up for you?”
“Oh? Just like the good old days?”
Izaya produced his switchblade and immediately the razor was out with one fluid motion. The predator-like instincts that Shinra knew Izaya to possess retained all of their danger but were somewhat off kilter, as if calibrated to a broken scale.
“Just put down the knife and let’s talk, okay?”
Izaya narrowed his eyes, for a moment it seemed as if he was preparing an attack from which Shinra knew that he could not escape. Then just as sudden as he had sprang into menace Izaya threw himself on a nearby armchair and proceeded to toss the blade into the air- it twirled a few times, reflecting shards of reddish glints- catching it only to toss it again. Shinra was almost hypnotized by the swirling motion.
The spell was broken when Izaya closed his hand over the switchblade as it descended. Blood gushed freely and trickled to the floor. The tangy scent of metal was heavy upon the air and not even the wind that flitted through the broken window could disperse it. Izaya stared at nothing in particular. A great silence descended. Izaya was too shocked for words but he willed himself to speak nonetheless.
“Izaya, just what happened to you?”
“Say, Shinra…those good old days were not half bad, were they?”
As one immersed in a dream Izaya increased the grip on the biting lip of the blade so that it bit into his flesh freely. Shinra approached him cautiously, his pulse beating wildly on his ears.
“Drop the knife, please. Something’s wrong but this isn’t going to solve-”
“‘Wrong’? Nothing’s wrong.”
Both of Izaya’s hands were smeared with blood. He eased his grip and the blade fell to reveal a gashing cut. Izaya glanced at his wounds with little interest.
“I wonder what Shizu-chan is doing now. I don’t suppose you’d know, Shinra?”
While Izaya rambled Shinra slipped a tranquilizer shot into a pocket.
“Tell you what, how about I go get him?”
Izaya nodded calmly. As if he was not bleeding. Shinra knew that this was his opportunity and he closed the space between them and gave him the shot without even removing the syringe from his pocket. It was the kind of thing certified doctors would not do for fear of liabilities but Shinra had no qualms about it.
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/r/'ing Izaya crying while laughing because he's crying.
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