#drr

about the doodles: i think Johnny’d be quite precise with them (if he made any), like a writer with a logical way of thinking. he would probably draw faces. maybe architecture. maybe parodies when life sucks. who knows? if you know, let me know!

Flower Language: Spider Lily

What were you even doing here?

A question that had been stuck in your mind ever since you had stepped into the bullet train taking you out of Ikebukuro. When you had gotten the anonymous message two weeks ago, you had deep down already known from whom it was. After all there had only ever been one person who had always hacked into your private accounts and messaged you from numerous different numbers, no matter how often you blocked each and every one of them.

Leaves rustled as a chilly autumn breeze swept through the park, leading you to wrap your arms around yourself to keep you somewhat warm. You should have taken a thicker jacket with you. That was your fault. Then again, Izaya was late. 10 minutes late, as you checked the watch on your wrist.

As your eyes swept through the park though, observing the people passing you by, your mind once again turned back to this question that had haunted you the entire way to this place.

You weren’t sure why you had made the decision to meet the guy who had tormented you for such a long time. In fact you were sure if you had received this message 2 years ago, you would have blocked him right away.

However, this wasn’t 2 years ago. This was now, 2 years after Izaya had disappeared without a trace. You’d only heard fragments of what had happened. The big fight. Shizuo against Izaya. Izaya nearly dying before vanishing. 2 years ago you hadn’t felt bad nor questioned it. Back then it had felt like karma finally punching Izaya in the face. It had been justice in your mind. It still was to this day.

When the calls had stopped, when the messages had stopped, you had been relieved. Suddenly all worries had been taken off your shoulders. For the first time you had been able to fall asleep peacefully without the nagging fear of waking up to new messages and secrets he had dug up online about you. For the first time you had been able to stroll through the city without having to be paranoid about being stalked. And you wish it could have stayed that way.

Unfortunately Izaya had been a too prominent part of your life. You didn’t know when exactly that elevation of being free had turned to a morbid curiosity of what had happened to him. No matter how much you tried to tell yourself you didn’t care about his fate, in quiet moments your mind always betrayed you. However, you didn’t wonder because you missed him. You wondered because you wanted certainty. Because nowadays every day you lived without Izaya was a day where you quietly feared if he would eventually return and your life would once again be haunted by him.

So here you were, vacantly staring at the trees as you were deep in your thoughts. What you needed was closure to the fragile freedom you had been able to enjoy those past 2 years. You needed to know if it would be your life from now on or was nothing more than a fleeting illusion for Izaya to use to recover.

From the corner of your eyes you still noticed people coming and going. Parents taking a walk with their children. Students strolling through the park to take a short break from school. A guy in a wheelchair. You didn’t pay much attention to any of them though. You were waiting for someone skipping giddily into your vision.

“Ah, look at you~ Still busy overthinking my next move? Don’t. We both know you still wouldn’t be able to figure out what’s coming next. Like right now, for example.”

A young, lean man twirling a knife around in his hands and giving a smug and arrogant grin. That image immediately popped up in your mind the moment you heard his voice, your head immediately snapping around as your eyes were scanning for his figure leaning against a tree in the park. That image of how you had last seen him was stuck in your mind which was why you initially completely ignored the person in the wheelchair.

“I’m hurt. I thought my impact on your life was big enough that you’d recognise me immediately.”

That’s when your gaze finally drifted to the man in the wheelchair who flashed you a grin that had the hair on your arms stand up immediately. That grin hadn’t changed one bit, as cocky as ever which brought back more unpleasant memories than you wanted to admit. The dread didn’t last long though. Not once your eyes properly roamed over his figure seated in a wheelchair.

“Izaya?”

You didn’t even know why your voice sounded like a question. That signature grin was all you needed to see to know that this was indeed the same man who used to blackmail you for fun. Yet the person right in front of you didn’t completely align with the image in your head anymore. Two years ago he would have sneaked up on you, would have pinched and touched you and would have gotten away with it due to his agility.

Now though he had approached you directly, stuck in a wheelchair which didn’t allow him to dance around you like he used to in the past.

“Am I that unrecognisable because of the wheelchair? I don’t think I’ve changed that much. Hair’s still the same. My fashion is still the same too.”

When his hands started push the wheels to move forward, you actually stood up. For a moment your body was about to walk over and help him and that despite Izaya being Izaya still. Surprisingly enough it was his gaze sharpening for a moment when he noticed your sudden movement.

“Don’t.”

‘Don’t pity me.’ ‘Don’t look at me like this.’ ‘Don’t help me. I can move by myself.’

You wondered if any of those thoughts had crossed his mind when he had spoken that one single word. Pride and arrogance had always been at the forefront of his character and you couldn’t help but question how much of those traits he had been forced to swallow down now that he was bound to a wheelchair.

Still, you listened as you slowly moved back to the bench and watched as he pushed himself closer to you before stopping less than an arm’s length away from you. Observant eyes immediately roamed over your face, already analysing you like old times.

Old reflexes had your body lean back instinctively, your own eyes avoiding his as they instead landed on the wheelchair. Had Shizuo hurt him that badly? You knew he was abnormally strong and honestly, you wouldn’t blame him if this was due to him. Izaya had after all always been the one who had provoked and tormented him. Perhaps that too was just karma finally striking Izaya even though you didn’t wish disablement on anyone.

“So, how has life been for you? It’s been an awfully long time since we last had the chance to chat to each other after all.”

It was that question that led your gaze to slowly meet his own, eyes narrowing with wariness and distrust alike.

“You’re asking me like you don’t know? Don’t act like you haven’t checked on me before meeting up with me in here.”

“Have I now?”

The way heat prickled your face in growing fury brought you back to old times immediately. God, even disabled Izaya hadn’t changed. Then again, your hopes had never been high to begin with.

“Don’t act dumb. You got your hands on my new phone number to text me, you idiot.”

“Oh, that’s right. I did, didn’t I?” His face lit up in fake realisation, eyes gleaming in familiar amusement born out of your annoyance.

“My, I must say, I’ve never seen you smile so brightly whilst I was in Ikebukuro. I am a little bit jealous of that. Nowadays you go outside, visit coffee shops, eat ice cream and have fun with your new friend group. Meanwhile I had to track you down every single time and use a secret or two of yours to lure you outside for some fun.”

When he mentioned your new friend group, you couldn’t help the way your fists clenched for a short moment. Bad memories of previous blackmails flashed within your memories, reminding you of his hobby to expose secrets of people online you had been trying to befriend back in the days. He hadn’t changed one bit. Still an asshole through and through. Had he seriously called you all the way from Ikebukuro to this prefecture only to taunt you once again? Well, that sounded a lot like somethin Izaya would do, wouldn’t he?

“Come on, don’t look so down. This is our reunion after all. Try to look a bit more happy. You’re ruining the atmosphere.”

You didn’t reciprocate that amused grin of his, instead giving him a tired glare that already conveyed your regret of coming here to see him.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Still as lovely with your compliments as ever. I did miss this, you know?”

For a few very long moments all the two of you did was stare at each other. You were doing so with a resentful glare whilst he studied you intently as if trying to embed this current image of you in his memories forever.

“Why do you think I asked you to come and see me all the way out here?”

“To make fun of me and torment me again?”

A sigh that almost sounded disappointed left his lips as he shook his head.

“I could have done that without calling you all the way out here. Do you think of me as that simple-minded?”

You were pretty sure that your face was conveying perfectly much that you thought of him as that petty and simple-minded indeed. Yet his words still led your brain to start spinning. Had there been another reason to why he had asked for the two of you to meet face to face?

“Do you want pity for being stuck in a wheelchair? Well, sorry to break it to you but that’s your own fault. You picked the fight with Shizuo and you lost it. I think he should have beaten you perhaps a bit harder even. Guess it just shows that he wasn’t the monster you always accused him of being.”

That’s when that smug grin suddenly turned shaky, his breath stuttering for a moment. And you noticed. How could you not when you were sitting that close to him? For some reason though, you continued. Maybe because seeing Izaya being affected by the consequences of his actions felt satisfying and deserving and because you wanted to see him suffer instead of being on the high horse he usually was on.

“You know, I do regret that I wasn’t there on that day. I wish I could have seen how your traps failed to kill him and how he beat you up. I heard you were thrown around like a sack of potatoes and nearly killed before somehow you managed to escape. Not alone, of course. In your condition you could have never. I do wonder who in their right mind would decide to save someone like you? Especially after you were so utterly humiliated and defeated by Shi-”

“Shut up!”

Your face stung the moment his hand clamped over your mouth, the impact leaving an audible sound as he pretty much slapped his palm over your lips to stop you from talking any further. However, his hand was shaking. His breath was irregular, usually sharp eyes no longer focused on your face as they instead darted around as if working through memories which clearly had left him traumatised even 2 years later.

Once clarity returned to his gaze, he immediately withdrew his hands. However, he still didn’t meet your eyes again. Not immediately at least. A chuckle escaped his lips. You didn’t know if he let it slip out unintentionally or if it was meant to cover up his previous outburst. In either case, it was doing a crap job. It sounded far too shaky for you to ever buy it as him laughing it off.

“You seem to have gotten a lot more sharper with your words. Back then you used to hurl the most random insults at me to get a reaction out of me only for you to be the only one to snap ultimately.”

“I haven’t gotten meaner,” your gaze observed his form, suddenly looking much smaller in the wheelchair than you had in memory, “You’ve just gotten more vulnerable.”

Bony fingers twitched when you said those words, worse than any insult you could have possibly thrown at him. After all Izaya hated nothing more than being vulnerable.

“Is that so?” he muttered, still not meeting your gaze as he stared at his legs.

Would he perhaps end up crying? For a short moment you wondered if you would bear witness to a sight you had never thought Izaya possible of. With the way his eyes were wavering and he was chewing on his lips, it genuinely looked like he might break open in front of you.

Izaya was unfortunately still Izaya.

“Perhaps you are right. I am a changed man ever since I have become like this.”

Your face fell when he recovered far too quickly, another grin taking its place on his face as if it always belonged there.

“In fact it is because I am a changed man that I wanted to meet you today. I actually came here to say goodbye to you, (y/n).”

You listened. The words registered. Yet you didn’t answer. You only blinked, holding your breath for a long moment as if expecting him to burst out in a fit of laughter and reveal it all as a prank. Eventually somehow you forced your jaw open, throat working desperately around one meek word you managed to speak out.

“What?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed now or I may have a change of heart,” he teased warningly, though his voice seemed to lack the usual playfulness it had always harboured as if the current situation was hard for him too, "I'll pray to meet you again in another life. For now, I have to settle with a farewell, though."

So that was it. Years of praying for this moment. Years of praying to be left alone by Izaya. And now here you were. A free woman. You had always imagined that you would celebrate such a moment. That you would perhaps cry tears of joy. Yet you just sat there, staring at him as if he had grown a second head.

“Hmm~” Izaya tilted his head, his gaze curiously picking apart your current facial expression with keen interest, “I thought you’d look happier. Isn’t this what you always wanted? For me to leave you alone?”

Your legs moved before your brain caught up, pushing you to stand there and stare down at his smaller form in his wheelchair.

Was that all it had taken? One near encounter with death through the hands of Shizuo for the Orihara Izaya to lose all of his conviction and persistence? Why did you feel so disappointed?

“Wow.”

For some reason it was the first word you managed to choke out, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you could only stare at Izaya.

“If I would have known one good beating was all it would take, I would have paid Shizuo years ago to do it for me.”

Izaya too looked up at you, a strange sight that made you feel like the taller person for once as he was always the master of making you feel small when around him and the way his grin softened into something dangerously close to a genuine smile made you want to slap him. It looked off on his face. It didn’t belong on the face of such a jerk.

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

Why was he apologising? You didn’t want an apology. Especially not from him.

“If it helps you though, I have one last present for you. Wouldn’t want you to think that I have suddenly become a better person or something like that.”

That’s when he pulled out that cursed phone of his that had always been his strongest weapon. You watched almost numbly as he typed something in on it, still left reeling from the sudden revelation that he would not only leave you alone from this day on but also from that smile that had looked to gentle on his face to be true.

“See this guy here? What’s his name again? Nakama Katsuki or something like that?”

That name snapped you at last out of your very confusing inner state, finally staring at the screen he was now holding up for you to see. Katsuki was part of your friend group. Nice guy. One of the nicest you had ever met though considering that Izaya was the standard you had been used to for too long, that was a very low bar to begin with.

“What about him?”

“I have been doing a little bit of research on your new friends before meeting you. For old time’s sake, you know? And guess what? Turns out that this guy has been having a little crush on you for a few months now. Has been planning to ask you out in the near future. I was forced to go through the chats between him and those other friends of yours. Oh, it was terrible. Wanted to gouge my eyes out a couple of times.”

He leaned slightly forward when he realised that you were listening very eagerly. Far too eagerly considering that the both of you knew what was coming next.

“So I may or may have not dug up some dirt of him and added a rumour here or there before posting it all online before meeting you here. Comments have been piling up for a while now if you want to give them a read after. Can’t let another guy sweep you off your feet after all too soon after closing our chapter.”

He had barely finished the sentence before your hand met his cheek, the impact loud and clear. A sound far too close to triumph left you considering the horrifying news he had just given you.

“Hah! I knew it! I knew you were still the same shitty person from before? You leaving me alone? Don’t give me that bullshit! We both know I’ll see you soon again! That’s just the kind of person you are!”

You expected laughter. You wanted laughter. Instead you got Izaya rubbing the cheek you had just slapped slowly before his gaze met yours. He looked calm. The same couldn’t be said about you.

“I should savour this feeling. It’s the last time I’ll ever feel you slapping me after all.”

Your palm struck out immediately after again, this time targeting his other cheek.

“Now you’re just spoiling me. Plan to slap me a third time as well?”

What were you even doing?

That thought struck you as abruptly as your slaps had his cheeks as you managed to stop whatever was currently going on within you. You were hitting a person in a wheelchair. Even if that person was Izaya, it made you feel pathetic. The fact that he hadn’t stopped you didn’t help. It was that smile on his face though coupled with the bittersweet look in his eyes that made you feel far too agitated. Why were you feeling that way?

Your hand was still lingering in the air as if still prepared to strike him again. Only for your arm to drop too suddenly, hanging uselessly on your side.

What was wrong with you? Why were you feeling? What were you even feeling?

You didn’t know. You only knew that you were feeling overwhelmed with something that had you bite down on your lower lip the moment it started to wobble.

Izaya didn’t make it better. He didn’t taunt. He didn’t make fun of you. He only sat there, watching you quietly. You weren’t used to silence when around him. What did he expect you to do?

“Never thought that I would see the day you would cry over me.”

“I’m not crying!” you snapped at him, even though you felt the hot tears streaking down your cheeks. Why? Why were you crying right now?

“I’m sorry to disappoint you so much in the end. I promise that in my next life I will never leave you alone again. I’ll torment you to death then forever until death do us apart. If that helps you a bit right now.”

“Just shut up,” you pressed out, taking one step closer to him to the point you actually pushed him back a little bit, “Stop this bullshit about a next life. You won’t leave me alone. You can’t. That’s the way it has always been so don’t pretend like you are suddenly going to stop now. You’ve never stopped. You won’t stop now.”

What were you saying, for God’s sake?

“I’m flattered to know that despite everything you still seem to hold our memories so fondly.”

You didn’t slap him this time. You slapped his phone out of his hand, the device dropping to the ground where you knew he would struggle to pick it up. Once again you were denied any familiar reaction though. It was that almost pitiful look he gave you that finally led you to step away, eyes landing on the ground as your entire face was burning from humiliation and too much else.

“Fuck you, Izaya!”

"Monica…" His voice trails off like he wants to say something more, but he can't seem to find the words.

She supplies a few of her own instead. "I stopped by the precinct."

"Ah." His hand finds his face, fingers tracing the lines of his forehead.

"You weren't going to tell me you applied to the academy at all, were you?"

He takes a moment, then answers with a shrug. "I didn't wanna jinx it."

A laugh bursts from her then, full and bright and loud in his ear as it blows through the receiver. His chest tightens at the sound, memories of the slivers of light it'd brought to some of his darkest hours flashing through his mind.

"Now that's funny," she says as her breath settles. "You're a model candidate, John. Exactly what the FBI looks for."

He can feel the corner of his mouth twitching despite himself. "Yeah, well, I'm here now, ain't I?"

"That's what they tell me…"

His head shakes a little. "'They' bein' Duke."

"Who else? He's proud of you, you know."

He huffs. "Coulda fooled me."

"Can't blame him for wanting to keep his best detective around." He can tell she's smiling on the other end, and he's surprised by the slight ache he feels at the thought that he's missing it. "So, how's it going, trainee?"

"Beats the hell outta boot camp," he starts, pacing in small, slow circles as he speaks. "But I'll tell ya, I feel like an old man joinin' up this late. Feels like everyone else came outta the womb plannin' to apply on their 23rd birthdays."

"Like me?" she says, and she can hear him snort. "You're not old, John, you're experienced. It'll serve you well."

"Yeah, hopefully." He's shrugging again, but this time nodding too. "How 'bout you, Agent Reyes?" He emphasizes the title, respecting and teasing her all at once—but she just hears the way her name sounds on his tongue, the lilt of his accent in each syllable. She'd miss it if it hadn't been lost to the intimacy of her first name instead. "How's the Bureau treatin' you?"

Ever the gentleman—he says the Bureau but she's sure that's not all he means.

"Can't complain," she offers, and of course she could, but—

"Like hell!" It's his turn to laugh now, and she's thrilled to hear it—a deep, throaty sound she'd only just started getting to know as he finally found it within himself again.

"Okaaay fiiine," she relents, drawing out each word for effect. "What can I say, it's tough out here for a ritualistic crimes specialist." A dash of levity with her truth, and she hopes that will be enough to satisfy him for now.

"Yeah, I'll bet." She can tell his words came through one of his crooked smiles, so it will indeed.

There's an irony, she realizes, in wanting to keep it light, when she recalls the question she wants to ask him—the reason she called in the first place. It's dangling somewhere between the tip of her tongue and the back of her throat, waiting for the right moment to drop.

Another trainee runs past him, shouting an apology as they knock him briefly unsteady. Glancing at his watch, he realizes he should be doing the same if he wants to eat. "Sorry Monica, but I gotta—"

"John." She cuts him off, and the words tumble down. "Are you doing this for you, or are you doing this for Luke?"

They land like a pile of bricks, but there's too many miles between them to hear an echo, so all that's left is a long, heavy silence—until finally it's broken by a deep sigh breathed into her ear.

That's all she expects, really, so she's surprised when he mumbles, "What the hell's the difference?" She's not entirely sure whether he means the difference to him or to her, and she doesn't press him to find out. But he surprises her again when he adds an even more quiet truth. "I just—I needed to get out of there."

There has many meanings, she knows. So she lets his honesty breathe for a moment before speaking again, exposing her own through a touch of banter. "I guess New York won't be making the top of your field office rankings then?"

His silence speaks louder than words, spelling out the confirmation she already wishes she didn't ask for.

"Well hey, don't let me keep you," she deflects, before he tries to soften the blow. "I just wanted to see how you're doing down there."

"Yeah." The sun is warm on the back of his neck as he stares at his shoes, scuffing his toes lightly against the path. "Thanks, Monica."

"Anytime, John. Just let me know where you do end up, okay?"

"Okay. I will." He hopes it won't be too far, just far enough, but he doesn't tell her that. Instead, he takes a page out of her book, sprinkling in a pinch of humor. "And if I come across any satanic cults out there I'll give you a call."

That earns him another laugh, sharp in the best way, slicing through the lingering tension between them. "Looking forward to it," she says, her lips pinched in a grin as she holds back the pending Agent Doggett.