There's No Beauty In Death.

Chapter Two.

     The afterlife wasn’t turning up to as swell as he presumed it to be.

     There was no beautiful Valkyrie to lead him towards the divine gates of Valhalla. There was no higher power to praise his own godlike existence. There was nothing.

     There was only Ikebukuro.

     As it had been.

     Five seconds after he had gotten skewered with a pole.

     And really, staring at your own lifeless body wasn’t what it shaped up to be.

     But, watching your enemy crumble into pieces was.

     Izaya scuffed his shoe against the ground- well, tried to, at least. Things were hazy and dreamlike, and his foot, despite actually being on the ground, didn’t seem to actually make contact.

     Huh.

     Being dead was strange.

     His eyes, unnaturally brighter than they had been during life, stayed focused on Shizuo's face, watching as his resolve fell with each second that passed.

     It was odd, really. He hadn’t expected Shizuo to react like this, cradling his body and falling into distress. He had expected a victory cheer, a large smirk and an attitude that screamed ‘I won you smarmy Flea!’

     Izaya's lips turned up into a soft smirk,

     “Always so unpredictable, my monster…” He noted that his voice sounded echoey- it must have been another ‘you’re now dead!’ type of thing. He’d have to get used to it.

     All in all, being suddenly murdered wasn’t really apart of his plan. Well, ultimately winding up dead was, but not like this. Never like this.

     It was supposed to be different.

     It was supposed to be him lasting long enough to look Shizuo in the eyes and spit out a brutal, ‘Happy now, monster?’. It was supposed to be him lasting long enough to see Shizuo's expression as his body went cold.

     But of course, as the universe would have it, Izaya didn’t get what he had wanted, and was promptly killed within seconds.

     “So unfair… Shizu-chan, you were supposed to throw it a little lower, that way I could’ve bled out instead.” His words were morbid, and dripped with an odd combination of emotions.

     Anger, regret, misery.

     It dripped with every emotion he never got to express towards Shizuo in life.

     Despair, happiness, bewilderment…

     ...It dripped with the sweet tone of heartbreak- of unspoken love now lost to the shadows.

     Izaya knelt down, his head tipping up so he could fully take in Shizuo's expression,

     “Such a dejected look… How strange…” He reached out, but his hand simply went through Shizuo, so he made a little ‘ah’ sound.

     Really, what had he expected?

     A bigger picture? Something better after he had finally died?

     Well, his expectations were shot down almost immediately.

     Now he was some shitty cliche spirit, stuck in Ikebukuro, haunting an equally shitty brute.

     Perhaps this was his punishment, of sorts. That wouldn’t be surprising, really.  

     The sudden monotone of Shizuo's voice captured Izaya's attention immediately, tearing him from his thoughts,

     “You damn bastard…” His voice was shaking, and it raised curiosity within Izaya, “What happened to your promise of killing me, huh?! Open your damn eyes, Flea!”

     Izaya no longer had a heartbeat, but something struck through his chest painfully. He forced a laugh, and fully collapsed to his knees,

     “You look like a lunatic yelling at a dead body like that, you know…”

     “You can't leave Ikebukuro like this, Flea!”

     “You’re the one who killed me, dummy, stop acting like a victim.”

     There was a pause- a stuttered breath, and then a broken voice,

     “You can’t leave me like this, Izaya…”

     …

     Oh.

     Oh.

     Izaya no longer required oxygen, but his breath halted anyways.

     Izaya no longer required blood, but his veins ran with ice.

     “Y-You… You need to wake up, because who am I gonna chase around this dumb city, huh?”

     Izaya no longer required emotion, but his eyes stung and watered- his entire being felt cold and detached and filled to the brim with remorse.

     This shouldn’t have happened.

     None of this- He fucked up, and there was no turning back.

     A sob ripped from Izaya's throat before he could stop it as sudden overwhelming emotion crashed into his small frame. But, it wasn’t like it mattered anyway. Shizuo couldn’t hear him, no one could hear him.

     So, he cried.

     He screamed, he sobbed, he mourned over what should have been.

     The passion, mistaken for hate between the two. The passion that was undeniably deeper than just hate.

     It was a fucked up type of love, but it was their type of love.

     It was, and now it never could be again.

     There was so much more they could’ve done, could’ve said.

     Neither of them would have had to been alone, they could’ve had each other and faced the world with their messy and obscure love.

     But now, that chance was over. Both of them would be damned to lives of solitude, always knowing that a part of them would be forever missing.

     “We… We really messed up this time, huh?” Izaya choked the words out, and he reached towards Shizuo again despite knowing that it was useless.

     Surprisingly, Shizuo looked up, and his own eyes connected with Izaya's own wide ones.

     But, he didn’t see the informant. He stared right through him.

     Despite that, Izaya smiled through his tears-smiled through the excruciating pain in his heart- his hand hovering over Shizuo's cheek,

     “See you again someday, Shizu-chan…”