Mute |Shizaya| (Currently Editing)

Chapter 20 - Blank Canvases

"From the moment we are born, we begin to die."

-Orihara, Izaya

The chair faced the window, so you could sit down and see the scenery. The window was open, but the screen had been left on, just in case. Birds chipped happily as they hopped around, some flying after each other as if they were playing a game of chase- Just like we used to - they all looked content, like as if they were happy with the way they were living at the moment. Like there was no end to whatever happiness they held on to. The happiness that never lasted for him. Bright, clear, and blue. That was the sky. No clouds to disturb the clear canvas with a single dot of color, giving the picture life.

Empty pale eyes stared into the fresh air of spring, turning summer.

"At least I slept through all of winter right?"

He had joked, and Shinra didn't look amused. He just sighed, shook his head and turned to leave the room, grumbling under his breath.

It has been two and a half months since he had a panic attack, which was great, but he was now restricted on certain things. He had to eat at the table now so he couldn't sneak any knives for when night would fall. He also had to keep both hands wrapped in ace bandages at all times for other reasons he can't remember, or more like, because he doesn't want to. His arms were bandages up, so we're his thighs. Still looked like a walking skeleton in some places though.

Fingers that weren't bandaged were nimbly running across the window bed, the coordination of the fingers tapping a song. An imaginary piano under them, as he slid across the bed, light being casted onto the pale, thin, little things. Although the tune couldn't be heard by the others on the outside, the tune was vivid in the head that was creating the combinations, all by muscle memory. What was the name? There was no name on the piece, just emotions as it continued to flow through the silent hear void of voices apart from the soft notes created.

Books were piled next to the chair high enough where they could be sat on and still look out the window at a normal sitting height. They were all read at least three times, no longer calling attention to the form-, no, informant. He hasn't stopped. Izaya was still alive. He was still breathing, and as long as he was breathing, he would continue doing what he loved to do best. Live.

People watching wasn't as great from the window the raven gazed out of, as it faced a street not so popular and few humans walked by every few minutes or so. Cars didn't count.

Another pass time had been a cat that had started visiting the raven. He would wait by the window sill outside and wait for the informant to move over and lift up the screen (Shinra didn't know) and let the feline in. It was a yellow tabby, a sweet thing, yet very lazy. The moment it met the informants lap, it would start putting, letting the soft fingers run through its fur and rub, and would eventually fall asleep. If Shinra ever entered and he was there, it would try and scramble up Izaya's shirt or dive into a corner of the room with shadows enough to hide it. It didn't seem to like Shinra exactly, and the raven couldn't blame him, though he would be lying if he said he wasn't curious as to why he didn't like the underground doctor. It could also be a weird tic of the feline, but it didn't matter, as long as it helped him pass the time he was good and wouldn't push the matter to the radar.

Sometimes, the two would sleep together, that is, once Izaya made sure that his fur was at least clean. He didn't any any dirt in the bed he was going to be sleeping in. During the day though, sometimes the cat would just stare at him, blue eyes waiting for the raven to talk to him, but he never did. It was like as if it knew, and that the gaze directed at him would be pity, in which Izaya absolutely despised. He seemed to communicate with the feline just fine though, so it was alright. As long as it didn't creat a mess....