𝚄𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚍 || Orihara Izaya

Chapter 13

Presumably, it would have been impossible for Fukao Reira to invite a man going by the name Orihara Izaya to enter his room. After all, there hasn't been a time when they weren't aiming for each other's necks. In other words, their relationship involves mainly of planning the other's demise.

As the bedroom door closed shut slowly with a silent creak, Reira's black orbs trailed to Izaya's tall outline, the raven head male by the closed entrance. Noticing the brunette's intense stare towards him, the information broker cocked his head to meet Reira's eyes, flashing another of his signature smirks – a smirk Reira learned to be wary of.

"So," Izaya started, leaning his back on the plastered wall of Reira's room, his russet hues shining with its usual cunning gleam. "May I ask why you have called me here? I didn't expect you of all people to do anything behind (Y/N)-chan's back."

"You know well why I called you here, Orihara." The dark-chocolate haired veterinarian sneered, legs crossed as he folded his arms over his chest. Impatience was lacing his voice as the shrill of spite was twinkling in his black irises. "Where's the other document."

Instead of his words coming out as a question, it sounded more like a statement, a demanding imperative. The utmost seriousness of the younger male made Izaya laugh from amusement. No matter how many times he had seen the brunette act so stiff, it had never ceased to intrigue him – it was interesting, to confuse such a firm person with mere repartee.

"Oh, you mean the one you faked." The way Izaya would feign the innocence in his voice made Reira's blood boil, the sheer of anger growing present at his reddening face. Upon the ebony-haired man had fished the familiar folded sheet of paper from his pocket, he flaunted the article in front of Reira, taunting him. "I see no problem with me having this around. After all, this is what you had shown to (Y/N)-chan before – this false document."

"No matter how you look at it, it would just be odd for you to carry that around. If (Y/N) sees that...!" Reira had shot up from his seat, teeth clenched as his hands curled into a tight fist. It was clear that he was slowly losing composure. Perhaps, this is the earliest he had snapped. With a deep exhale, the brunette settled back down to sit on his bed, realizing his own mistake. "Just give it back, Orihara."

"You should really watch your volume, Reira-kun. You might wake up (Y/N)-chan, you know." Izaya claimed, hearing the younger male's command but paying no heed to it. Reira's eyes never left the piece of document in Izaya's pale hands, the latter moving it slowly side-to-side, continuing to mock him. "Somehow, it makes me wonder – if we'll ever have a conversation without any of us losing composure."

"There's a possibility." Reira answered, straightening himself up as the adrenaline he had felt had calmed down. "That is if you finally stop you wordplays."

"Oh, I suppose it would be impossible then. It's too bad." Izaya chuckled, tapping his finger by his forearm as he moved his gaze to meet Reira's. "We would have been great acquaintances. But sadly, with (Y/N)-chan in the story, that wouldn't happen."

"I honestly think otherwise." Reira breathed out a sigh, laying his back comfortably on the soft mattress of his bed, eyes observing the newly-painted ceiling. "I doubt we'll meet without (Y/N)."

"You make a good point. But, I suppose I could take this light atmosphere as a rare chance to finally ask." Izaya mumbled out, earning him Reira's attention as the tan-skinned male raised his head up slightly, eyes peeking at his profile. "I mean, you're bringing (Y/N)-chan to that reunion she obviously despises. Since I won't be coming along with you to the trip, I want to make sure."