we all could be heroes.

‘Through… what? Geez, you and Mr. President…’ They both like building suspense, even when it isn’t necessary. Izaya drums the guard rail with the bottom of his palm, fingers curling inward before they splay. ‘”Improve the situation” – that’s so vague, too. We could “improve it” by baking them a cake. Or by killing them all. Come on. What scale are we talking?’

But it’s kind of obvious. He looks to the sky again, running through various ideas Rui’s probably had. Violence is out of the question, and knowing her, she’s thinking city-wide. She doesn’t expect she can do it on her own. And if it’s not something she’ll say outright, then…

‘You were sure enough I’d agree with you that you invited me here… but you’re still not sure I’d go for it?’ He sighs, closes his eyes, stretches restlessly. ‘You think I’m that cruel. Thanks.’

He tilts his head to work out the cricks in his neck, sounding tired.

“Sector-wide improvement, at first.” He tilts his head to the side, thoughtful, fingers on his chin. “It could be expanded to city-wide in time, but you could say I want to run a little experiment first.”

The smile he gives the other is teasing. “Oh ye, of little faith. I have an idea--several in fact--though hearing feedback is why I invited you out here. I don’t expect you to lend a hand beyond that, and that is the truth.”

He returns to scanning the cityscape, taking in a slow breath.

“I intend to better arm the general populace--though I’m debating the best way. Presenting physical artillery isn’t the best idea...in fact, keeping others clear of the danger zones would be a better deterrent in this case, which is why X and I have been spending the last several weeks setting up a surveillance network around the entirety of the Sector and District Alpha. I intend to open the access to those not in the phonebook.”

He shows Nakura his city-issued cell.

Shannon looked up from tying her shoe as if startled, eyes wide, and then smiled. It was a quick smile, when it came. It took her a moment. She looked down again, fingers building a neat bow, before she responded.

“I’ve been there once already, actually,” pause, as she pulled on the other shoe over her clean white sock, “I think it’s rather nice. I didn’t swim, though. I used to live on an island, but I don’t know how to swim. Isn’t that funny?”

It wasn’t. She tied a second bow, and looked up again.

He assumed swimming was like riding a bike--one didn’t just forget due to disuse. So it was with reasonable confidence that he responded to her question.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had to, but yes, I do. I’d be happy to show Kanon-kun sometime, if he’d like.”

He straightened a water-proof watch on his wrist absently as he wandered around near the door, chuckling to himself.

He gives a laugh that’s sharper than it should be.

‘”Any thoughts?”’ he repeats. His tone’s as thin as the smile he slaps back on his face. 'On what? On how everyone just assumes they’re not real? Or how murder’s terrible if the other person comes back, but if they don’t, it’s suddenly okay? Or were you talking about how people think they know who’s who, but all they’re really doing is hedging their bets? See, you’ve made it so vague, I don’t even know where to START.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　‘– just kidding. ☆’

In an instant, he’s all smiles. He’s shrugging his shoulders, he’s turning around, he’s leaning back against the guard rail framing the roof with a bored sigh.

　　　　　Sheesh. Heavy topic.

‘I don’t know. What do you think?’ Izaya tilts his head back, observing the sky above. ‘Half my clients are supposed to be people like that, so I can’t exactly badmouth them… but if we’re being honest here –

‘It’s pretty unfair. Almost kind of disturbing. But so what?’

Rui notes the change in demeanor--there’s a certain sense of authenticity to it that Nakura had been lacking up until this point, though he’s only realized that at this very instant. Considering the stress that’d been put on him a few months prior about his own thoughts on the city, he’s afraid he’s going to do a little pushing of his own.

Though he doesn’t think it necessary.

He folds his arms on the railing once more and gazes out at the sky.

“I’ve helped them build memorials,” he says simply. “The measure of what makes someone or something human...do we really have a right to judge that? Even if they were ‘NPCs’, just some kind of extra in an enormous game we’re being made to play--how could anyone judge that?”

X is human to him, after all.

Brows arched, posture relaxed, he takes a couple seconds, waits to see if GALAX’s going to unwind another spiel. He stares; GALAX stares back, patient as the quiet moments tick on by. But all Izaya gets for his waiting is the feeling of expectation across his shoulders, a question that doesn’t need to be said: Well?

Well, what?

‘Huh.’

If GALAX is expecting more, he’s not about to give it.

‘Didn’t peg you as the “guilty-conscience” type,’ he mutters. It’s not the whole truth, but his bland delivery can’t commit either way. ‘Didn’t think we were that close, either. Obviously, I’m the one who needs to keep up in this relationship.’ And there it is. A hint of a smirk pulls at Izaya’s mouth while he moves, closing the distance with languid steps.

‘That’s not the only thing you called me out here for, right? ‘cause if so…’

He pauses. He settles a couple feet before Rui, and his eyes find hers.

He doesn’t have to be honest. But Hajime’s told him before that he looks better without all his make-up. There’s little he can fault Nakura on in terms of privacy when he remains closed off for similar reasons.

“No, that’s not all. I said just a moment ago I was going to get to the reason why I invited you here today, didn’t I? Depending on your opinion, this might not be any more interesting than my choice of fashion for the day.”

He looks back over the guard railing, gesturing out toward the streets below. The boulevards and roads and avenues are choked with pedestrians, but be that as it may...

“We both know there’s ‘test subjects’ in this city, and the regular individuals, the ones sometimes called ‘NPCs’.” A pause, and he closes a hand into a fist. “Don’t you find something about that term to be...dehumanizing?”

Rui’s eyes drift to Nakura and back down again.

He never sends a reply. GALAX seems to have it all figured out already, what he’s after, how this is all going to go down. Her bland confidence carries through her texts like water, and it’s almost enough to make you laugh. Some people would find that comforting, probably, the assurance of knowing someone out there is ready to call the shots. But him…

… he doesn’t care too much either way.

Twenty minutes pass before Izaya gets to where he’s supposed to.

He steps out from the stairwell, and the sun is bright.

‘Texting a guy right before the streets change… were you trying to be rude?’ he calls out. He’s not sounding too offended; like always, he just sounds amused. ‘And right in the middle of a meeting, too. You know, sometimes, GALAX…’

A few steps forward, and already, his hands are in his pockets.

He doesn’t look around to see where she’s hiding.

Rui remains as he is, without makeup or black dresses for the time being, his eyes the only things precisely the same as he listens to Nakura climb the stairs. His voice transitions from LOAD’s loftier tone to his (somewhat) milder voice, halfway through the sentence, emphasizing that his acquaintance here is not mistaking him for somebody else.

He’s leaning against the railing around a vent shaft’s side, and he’s waiting.

“I’m sorry about that. I anticipated your appearance and I had the feeling you’d’get here on time. Not every building in this Sector changes position.”

He turns though, hands in his pockets, eyebrows lifting slightly over red frames.

“I’d like to thank you for coming, and also to apologize.” He folds a hand across his chest. “I can’t expect honesty from you when I’ve neglected showing you that same courtesy, so before I say what I’ve been intending, I wanted to meet you properly.”

“I’m totally going to die out here if I don’t make it back home soon!” 

Just when he thought all hope was lost, he noticed a girl passing out free water next to a water cooler. She had intense green eyes, blonde hair, and glasses. He ran over as fast as he could. He was thankful for this person. They were a god-sent. He grabbed a bottle and poured it into his bottle. 

“Thank you, miss. You don’t know just how much you’ve just saved my life!” 

He immediately took a sip to cool off. 

“It was a good thing you were out here doing this. I don’t think I would’ve made it back to my room without you. Thank you again, miss.” 

“You don’t have to thank me; I’m just glad to be able to help!”

“Though maybe you should sit and rest a bit if it was really that serious--even with the water, it can take a while to get properly hydrated.”

He offers the young man a seat and taps something on his tablet’s screen absently, causing a display to come up.