I'm going to give a heads up that this fict is rated MA: for mature adults. There are graphic descriptions of violence, sexual content, and mature themes. If this ever gets deleted, you can find the same story on Ao3. Thanks for reading.

He had occasionally entertained the idea of waking up in a dark room chained to a chair. He knew there was always a possibility of something of the like considering his line of work as an informant: things like torture and attempts at his life. He'd been threatened enough times and had gracefully accepted it all fondly. It just meant he needed to be a few steps ahead of everyone.

When Izaya awoke sitting, or more accurately slumped in a wooden chair, he wasn't at all surprised. His jaw hurt, stinging oddly inside his mouth like he had swallowed mouthwash, but instead of a minty lingering, there was a sweet, thick aftertaste.

With an obvious rawness, he groaned and lifted a hand to rub his eyes. He was becoming aware of the crick in his neck from the awkward way his head had hung over his shoulder. Something heavy was around his neck. His right hand stopped short with a clang of metal.

At once, his still waking brain jolted more aware as he tried to backtrack to what he could last remember, to a hand coming from behind him with a rag ready. The smell had been heady and cloying.

Ah, how unoriginal.

He had been visiting a client, Himura-san, at the man's apartment. He knew Himura-san. Knew the 37-year-old's life story. The man had dropped out of high school in Ibaraki, worked as a cashier at a video and bookstore for five years before caught stealing from the register and moving to Tokyo, to which he was now currently managing menial part-time jobs and at night dealing drugs. His most recent job was working at a shoe store as a sales associate.

Izaya had looked up all of this and more before agreeing to meet the man to discuss ways Izaya could help him start up a business investment. One that Izaya knew wouldn't be successful. They were sitting and chatting, and Izaya had been offered green tea, which was left untouched because he didn't trust any of his clients no matter how inept they appeared. It was going just as Izaya had predicted, and Himura-san had looked at him with eyes like he was the messiah.

The last thing Izaya had expected was for a hand bigger than his face to come from behind him and shove a rag against his nose and mouth. Of course, he knew immediately not to breathe in the pungent chemicals and had moved for his folding knife, but when more hands gripped his shoulders and arms, effectively immobilizing him, Izaya glared at Himura-san who shakily sipped his tea. He had been forced to take a breath.

"Ah, how interesting," Izaya muttered. It had all been a ploy to catch him. Izaya was impressed because he thought that he understood Himura well enough, but here was a human who had gone beyond his expectations. He'd have to examine where the missing information came from and see what exactly the man wanted.

Izaya tried to move his legs next but they were similarly chained just like his arms. "Heh, what is this? Dungeon cosplay?" He checked his coat pockets, expecting not to find anything, but surprised to find both his cell phone and his folding knives. Finding these things should have made him feel better, but it didn't. These men weren't amateurs to make such a mistake. If they left him his things, then he was meant to have them. Izaya frowned as he turned his phone on. It was obvious that Himura wasn't behind this. Names and faces flashed through his mind, but Izaya had too many enemies to just point to one.

Three blinking dots flashed across the screen and lit up, making Izaya squint. He didn't let the fact that there was no reception bother him.

Now with the small amount of light, he pointed it in front of him and slowly scanned the room. He nearly dropped his phone when he saw another body sitting across from him. His eyebrow rose.

Things just got a bit complicated.

None of his kidnapped musings ever included someone else, especially not him. Now it made sense why his weapons hadn't been confiscated. Even if it was dark and his phone light was only enough to see outlines, Izaya knew Shizuo well enough to recognize the slightest of details. There was no telling how long the other man would remain sleeping, but Izaya was sure that when he did wake up, he would rampage and blame this situation on him. It wouldn't take much for him to break out of those chains and throw the chair at him before beating him to death.

But if it did come down to that, Izaya had perfect aim. He doubted even Shizuo could survive from a knife or three lodged in his throat. The only reason he didn't throw his knife right away was because there was still a chance he could use him. He needed to figure this out before the other awakened.

His fingers twitched as he watched the steady rise and fall of Shizuo's chest. It was a rare sight to see, and Izaya was reminded of that time he had visited the zoo to go people watching and had been dissatisfied when he came across the lion exhibit and the lions had all been napping in the sun. He had imagined what would have happened if the glass had broken and how the humans would have reacted as the lions escaped. But Shizu-chan was much scarier than a lion: much more of a beast.

It was more likely than not that whoever had brought them here was watching them. Izaya shifted the cell phone and the light filtered thinly across the room. It was the size of a classroom, with just them on opposite ends chained to the wall and sitting in chairs. There was a barred window just wide enough for a child to fit through. In a far corner was a door.

Izaya huffed in annoyance. Why did these people put in all of this effort to see them try to kill each other, when they could have watched it on the streets for free? Was it something idiotic, like whoever murdered the other got to be freed from this brainless setup?

Izaya frowned. It didn't help that his mouth still felt dry and he had a slight headache. How long had passed since he was knocked out? He checked his phone again. The time was 10:28 am, but judging from the window, it looked too dark to be that time. Were they even in Tokyo? In Japan? What kind of screwed up game was...

"Oh." Izaya tapped on the phone display roughly. Sure enough, there were two new messages that hadn't been there before. The first one read: Let's play a game.

He swallowed thickly, recalling a conversation with Shiki-san that he had found so amusing then—had actually loved the idea of. He had been telling the man of a new trend that some of the Yakuza, mafia, and other underground organizations were enjoying around the world.

All of it was a knockoff of that horror film franchise Saw. Sure enough, Izaya loved those movies, loved watching how the humans reacted when pushed to the extremes. How the more they struggled the worse it became for them, till they died of gruesome, mostly self-inflicted deaths.

He had even had the honor of watching one of these games from a live recording when a man who had defected from a Yakuza branch in the Kyushu region had allegedly sold out some members. His punishment was to be chained by the ankle with a saw set on his lap, across from him a ticking device that would unleash mustard gas unless the man sawed through his ankle and stopped the timer.

It was gruesome and entertaining, though Izaya had found it distasteful. He hadn't joined in on the throaty cheers that came streaming through the multiple recordings from others who were watching.

Of course, the man had deliberated too long before anxiously sawing through half his leg when a cloud of yellow smoke erupted into the room and the recording captured the man's last anguished choked screams. Izaya hadn't bet on the outcome like some other people, he just watched the show.

He clicked on the next message. His phone screen went dark as a video began playing.

"Hello, Orihara Izaya."

The voice was altered, pitched low and disjointed. A man behind a white oni mask slowly turned towards him. Black tufts of coarse hair surrounded the face, like a lion's mane. The mask was smiling with sharp teeth dangling out from full red lips.

"Oh?" Izaya said and pretended to get comfortable in his seat.

"I want to play a game."

"So far from what can be called of your life, you have made a living of watching others. Society calls you an informant. A snitch. A double-crossing rat...I call you unworthy of the body you possess. You have lived half your life playing games with other people. Convincing others to take the fall from your own deceit. Now it's your turn. Now we will see if you are willing to look inward, rather than outward. To give up the one thing you rely on in order to go on living."

Izaya tsked. "Oh, you have to do better than that. It's practically copied verbatim from the script."

"Attached to your neck is a collar that will inject a poison into your jugular vein two days from now. Forcibly removing the device will also trigger the poison. Somewhere on this island is the antidote."

His hands reached up to his neck and he felt the cool metal of the collar.

"Live or die. Make your choice."

The video cut off.

Izaya stared at the glow of his cell phone screen for ten seconds before the screen blackened. The room became dark once more and he checked his chains. He twisted in his seat, following the length of metal to where it attached to the wall. He tugged on it with all of his strength to no avail.

Jeez, they sure didn't make it easy, now did they?

He flipped open his phone once more and pointed it on the ground, checking to see if there was anything by his feet. He laughed when a crude saw glinted back at him under his chair. It was the same kind that was used to saw off that man's ankle.

So whoever did this had a twisted sense of humor. Izaya could appreciate that.

He picked up the saw and dangled it in his hands. He then twisted his body around in the seat and began testing where the chains were attached to the wall. It didn't so much as chip and it was difficult to hold the cell phone and put enough force into sawing.

Soon sweat began to bead at his hairline and Izaya wiped his brow with the back of his hand. He was thirsty and licked his bottom lip. "Just a friendly tip. If you're smart you'd better bet your life savings and your mom's life savings that I'm going to get out of here. Otherwise, I won't forgive you. Think about it, right."

Izaya went back to work methodically inspecting and sawing at any weak spots in the wall and chains. After about five minutes with his arms slightly aching, Izaya looked up at his handy work and huffed at the nonexistent progress he had made. He was about to reevaluate his options when he heard a low guttural groan.

Izaya turned back in his seat and tapped his phone light off. Quietly he listened as the man across from him straightened up and stretched, very much like an animal. The metal snapped like it was nothing.

"What the fuck?" Shizuo said. More of the chains snapped and clattered to the floor. Izaya could hear the rustle of clothes before a lighter flicked on, and then he saw a scowling face for a brief second before the man had a cigarette in his mouth.

He should have kept silent in hopes that Shizuo would leave without ever noticing him, but Izaya thought that maybe Shizuo could inadvertently break his chains for him. He snickered and watched in glee as Shizuo jumped back in surprise. "Really, the first thing you do is smoke, Shizu-chan? What if this room had been filled with a combustible gas?"

"Flea?" His voice was rougher than the metal sliding against concrete. "I thought I smelled shit. The hell is all this? Chains? Why even bother?"

"Before you come charging at me, would you believe that I'm in the same boat as you?"

"No," the response was immediate. Izaya rolled his eyes in the dark and flicked his cell phone open so a light shined over his form.

"Do you think I'm stupid enough to chain myself to a wall anywhere near you?" Izaya said as he jingled his chains. Just in case, he gripped the saw in front of his body.

Shizuo chuckled before stepping closer. The remaining chains on his feet snapped off as he continued to walk leisurely forward. "I guess I have someone to thank then." His knuckles cracked. "This might actually be fun."

Izaya switched his phone off, sending them in darkness. Maybe if he were lucky, Shizuo might just impale himself on the saw. "We really don't have time for this, Shizu-chan. Before you try to beat me up, you might want to figure out what's going on here. You'll regret not listening to me."

"Regret?" Shizuo scoffed and took a deep breath of his cigarette. "The only thing I'd regret is onot ever being able to kill you just once 'cause I'd rearly like to do it over and over again." A dull light appeared at Shizuo's hands as he took out his own cell phone and grinned. His teeth reflected like the glint of a sharp knife.

"Try not to crush your phone in rage, there might be an important message for you~!"

"Shut the fuck up, louse, I'm not falling for your shit." Shizuo stalked closer and just as he raised his fist the collar around his neck blinked red once. Around Izaya's own neck the same thing happened. "The fuck is this?" Shizuo's clenched fist went to the collar around his neck, and Izaya debated for a second whether to stop him or not. If for the morbid curiosity and the knowledge of whether pulling the machine off would really trigger the collar to inject him with poison or not, and if it did what kind of poison it would be.

It would be an easy solution if Shizuo just unwittingly killed himself. Izaya smiled in glee, watching with amusement the hand that was just touching the glinting metal around Shizuo's neck. He half expected that with the monster's brute strength, that small touch alone would be enough to break the collar. Unfortunately, that didn't happen. Shizuo had paused after seeing the look on Izaya's face.

"What are you smiling about? It's really creepy." Shizuo dropped his hand and narrowed his eyes at Izaya.

"Tsk. Just check your messages," Izaya sighed dramatically. "Before you do anything stupid."

Shizuo looked more likely to crush his phone in rage than listen, but maybe he realized that with him being chained, then Izaya wasn't going anywhere. "Whatever this is, it's probably your entire fault anyway," Shizuo grumbled just as his phone beeped. "A game...?" He muttered. Soon Izaya could hear the noise of the recording.

"Ya~ho~o! Hello, Heiwajima Shizuo!" Whoever had made the recording for Shizuo sounded much livelier than his own video recording. Probably to piss him off.

"Tch," Shizuo glared at his phone screen.

"Let's play a game."

"Don't worry the rules are simple! Somewhere on this island is an antidote, but you better hurry and find it, otherwise in two days the device around your neck will inject you with enough poison to kill fifty people! Don't try to break this collar, Heiwajima-san! Or the game is over, and it's bye bye~!"

"Huh?" Shizuo muttered.

"All your life you've had this incredible strength! But have you done anything good with it? How much of your city have you carelessly vandalized? How many people have you hurt with your rage and sent to the hospital? How many times have you said 'kill' and 'die'? Now it's your turn. Now we will see if you are willing to look inward, rather than outward. To give up the one thing you rely on in order to go on living. Those who don't appreciate life don't deserve to live! Good luck, Heiwajima-san! Remember that I'm always watching. Give us a good show!"

The message beeped off.

"What...the hell was that? Did you come up with this crap?"

"What?" Izaya scoffed. "Please, you should have heard the drivel from my recording. Can you believe they copied the script from a movie? Ugh. I can already imagine what else they included in these games."

"Games?" Shizuo picked at his cigarette as he spoke. "You think this is funny? You're in on this, aren't you?"

"What? Your protozoan brain still doesn't get it?" He said deliberately slow so the words could sink in that think skull. "This is our staged execution, unless of course we do somehow find an antidote."

"So if we don't find the antidote in two days then we die?"

"Ding, ding, ding, congratulations you figured it out!" Izaya clapped his hands and the chains shifted noisily.

"Hey! This is all your fault, you shitty flea! You messed with the wrong people and then dragged me in this."

"Oh, and you think you are so innocent? It's much more likely that you pissed off the wrong man. Or maybe you trashed some CEO's expensive Ferrari." Izaya smirked. He enjoyed the throbbing vein on Shizuo's forehead.

Shizuo threw the rest of his cigarette to the ground and stomped on it. "Do you have any idea who could have done this?"

"Even if I knew who was behind this, which I could figure out, it wouldn't matter. Right now that isn't important. "

"So you're practically useless right now."

"Useless?" Izaya sighed loudly. "I know more about these games than you, and I know how these people think. How about you break these chains and then we can look for this antidote. That's a pretty good trade, don't you think?"

"How stupid do you think I am?" Shizuo lifted his fist, and Izaya retrieved his folding knife from his sleeve. His knife cut skin before he felt the graze of Shizuo's fist against his cheek. The chair cracked loudly as he was thrown back. Izaya still had his knife in his hand and he was prepared for more, but Shizuo was already turned away and walking over to a wall. The chair and chains rattled from the force of Shizuo breaking a hole in the wall. A cool welcoming breeze drafted in smelling of the ocean.

"What? Not going to kill me?" His cheek was smarting in pain, but he still grinned. If he wanted to, he could throw a knife at Shizuo's back, though he didn't because he didn't want to lose any of his knives.

"Nah, I don't have to. The poison will do it after you sit there patiently for two days." He stepped through the hole and lit another cigarette. Izaya stood up and used as much force against the chains at his wrists and ankles, bucking against the restraints in anger.

"I hope you die out there." Izaya's grin widened and he chuckled, his words were extra sweet. "It's too bad, I should have tricked you into ripping off that collar. It would have been quite the sight."

Shizuo didn't turn around to look at him, and Izaya glared at his back.

He slumped into his chair and breathed in deeply a few times. "Whatever, I can get out of here myself." He tapped his foot against the concrete floor. Just as he was absentmindedly rubbing the irritated skin under his wrist, he noticed a tiny little slit in his shackle.

Izaya smirked as he searched in his coat pockets. "I'll make sure you lose, Shizu-chan."

He would relish it too.