The Happiest of Man

Chapter 6

Another thing: the fact that the flickblade left his hand the moment he placed a somewhat deep cut upon Shizuo’s cheek, it caused this overwhelming sense of worry to plant itself within his brain. He was pretty sure that he had a decent grip upon his weapon and yet – it just left his hand as if he wasn’t even holding it at all. With these thoughts circulating within his head, he suddenly felt himself lose his balance. Falling to the wet concrete floor, he felt his knees ache and the side of his head burn with a pain that he never thought he’d feel again. Izaya found it fortunate that no one was paying attention to him or even noticed that he was on the ground and although he wanted to stay on the ground for as long as possible, he quickly got to his feet – and continued to run.

All the way to Shinjuku, all alone.

- -

After arriving home, he was greeted with a somewhat disgusted look from Namie as he watched her go through the closet for a mop. Mild surprise would have followed after if he didn’t place the hood of his coat over his head again. It covered the blood that continued to run down the side of his face. 

“Too upset to greet me?”

“Just die already.”

It must have been in his favor to hide his open wound from her considering how Namie was quick to put him down with her words alone and it was unlike him to display any sign of weakness anyway. Regarding how she had responded, he assumed that she must not be having a good day so far. Being stuck in a grand home like his all by herself must seem a bit lonely – well, not that it mattered in the first place. All she ever cared about was her younger brother whom she rarely saw in the first place.

To say that her cold words affected him would be nothing more than a silly lie. At this point, it only amused him to a certain degree. He was told harsher things in life and he knew that, somewhere in the back of his mind, he was greatly hated for the kind of person he has grown up to be. Aware of the fact that he still carried the option of leading a more normal life where he could love humans through a different method, he decided to ignore said option to live dangerously. He liked the excitement that follows after him although admittedly, he could never get enough of it. Perhaps that was why, despite the many hardships he had to endure, he continued to go on in such a pathetic way.

Izaya continued to drip water from his clothes onto the hardwood floor below as he marched his way up to the bathroom where he will take one of the longest showers he will ever have. He didn’t have the energy to bicker (if not playfully on his side) with Namie, so he decided to leave that for next time.

That was when he began to grow frustrated.

After his shower and making sure that his wound was properly bandaged and cleaned, his nose followed the scent of dinner. He heard his stomach growl as his heart leapt with joy. There was a sense of comfort in eating with someone although he knew that his accomplice thought otherwise. Naturally, he was a loner, but it didn’t mean he was unable to appreciate the small things like this.

Joining Namie at the dinner table, he sat himself down as he reached over to grab his chopsticks, but somehow, his fingers grasped onto nothing. The tips of his fingertips met with the solid surface of the table as Namie merely looked at him like he was an idiot.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Izaya forced out a chuckle, “Are you concerned of my well-being?” 

Careful and a lot more aware of his movements, he held onto the chopsticks as he began to fill his stomach with the flavorful home-cooking that was placed before him.

“Only you would find the time to play around at any given moment.”

“Now, now, I can take things seriously as well! But, don’t I have the right to be comfortable in my own home?”