#actually the devil

Stepping into the Shinjuku penthouse is a much more foreign feeling now than it used to be. The more Celty does it and the less she seems to remember anything about the place. It has nothing at all to do with the changes that have been made in it to accommodate Izaya’s condition either—the ramps where steps used to be, the seat that slides up the stairs to the upper floor of the loft, Izaya’s own wheelchairs occasionally sat in the middle of door frames where he left them to walk instead. Celty would not have felt that there was any difference at all were it still only Izaya’s home; but it is Izaya and Shizuo’s home, now.

“Gimme a sec,” Shizuo mumbles at her once she steps through the doorway. He smiles quickly when she squeezes his shoulder in answer, then turns his back to her, gesturing to the couches. He climbs up the stairs while she heads there.

Izaya is in one of them, sitting sideways, his legs taking up too much room for her to be able to sit with him even if she wanted to. She doesn’t want to, so she falls into the one opposite his, and Izaya’s smile toward her is dark and amused. He doesn’t talk to her, only goes back to jotting down quick notes out of whatever the person he’s on the phone with tells him.

She doesn’t think he means anything with the open hostility. He just likes to put up a front, to keep going as though she’s ever cared that he resents and envies her. 

Celty has a better understanding of Izaya now than she ever wished to.

“Thank you,” he says to his caller. “I’ll get started on it as soon as you wire me the money. Pleasure to do business with you as always.”

Celty types a message while he hangs up, her fingers too quick for the human eye to follow. Do they ever believe you when you say that? she asks, turning the screen of her phone his way.

“Good day to you too,” Izaya replies without looking. He’s typing something, too, almost as fast as her. When he’s done, he flicks her a quick glance. “You’d be surprised,” he answers with a smile. “Most of them were so desperate for good services while I was gone, they’re practically falling over each other thanking me.”

I’m guessing this is the first time anyone’s thankful for your presence.

“Do you really want to antagonize me on the day I’m loaning Shizu-chan to you? I could keep him.”

He’s not your property, Celty protests.

“I’m not your property,” Shizuo says from the top of the stairs. 

He’s coming back down, blushing slightly at the way they both turn to look at him. At least now he seems dressed for the day; Celty wasn’t wrong when she thought, looking at him earlier, that he must still be in his sleepwear. He doesn’t linger once he reaches their level, just heads into the kitchen, muttering tea under his breath.

Celty looks at Izaya again. He smirks at her and says, “I gave him a bit of a late start, if you know what I mean.”

She’s not often truly grateful for how inhuman her body is, but she is now, with the sure knowledge that if not for it she would probably be blushing. Izaya acts like she is anyway; his smile widens.

He’s turned back to his phone by the time Shizuo comes out of the kitchen, mug in hand. 

“What’re you gonna do all day anyway?” Shizuo asks. He flashes Celty a better smile than before and leans against the back of Izaya’s couch. “You should just come with us.”

“Beaches aren’t kind to wheelchairs.”

“You could walk.”

Izaya makes a face. “Not today,” he replies, clipped.

“All right,” Shizuo murmurs.

Celty turns on the screen of her phone once more. We could carry you, she writes. It’s a private beach. Shinra’s father’s property. There won’t be anyone else but us around.

Izaya is smart enough to recognize a peace offering when he sees one, never mind the fact that Celty has felt no need for war in years. He gives her a slightly more respectful nod and says, “I just have work to get done. You three enjoy yourselves. Hopefully that fish monster I’ve been hearing about won’t eat you. Though,” he adds, lips twitching, “I wonder if anything’s able to stomach Shinra.”

“We’ll eat it first,” Shizuo replies.

“Always an animal, Shizu-chan.”

Izaya doesn’t look away from whatever he’s doing as Shizuo leans down—he just lifts his head in offering, so Shizuo can press his lips to his forehead and linger there for a second. “You be nice to Mizuchi,” he says before pulling away. 

“I’m always nice to Yahiro-kun.” Izaya looks up from his phone to stare at Celty once more. “I want him back before ten,” he says.

Celty’s answer is up almost before he can finish: Midnight. Non-negotiable.

“Eleven and I’ll let that time with Kadota and the guns slide. Don’t think I’ve forgotten, courier.”

“Keep that up and I’m not spending my day off with either of you,” Shizuo says flatly. “I’ll come home whenever the fuck I want.”

Izaya pouts. Celty isn’t proud enough to deny that, given the chance, she would do the same.