Disclaimer: I don't own 'Durarara!'. All OCs are mine.

weak points / ONE

The cigarette burned between his fingers, pressed to his lips as he drew in a long, deep breath. He kept his lips pressed tightly together, keeping the toxins at bay as he let his hand fall to his side. For a moment he waited, quiet and patient, before at last exhaling heavily. Smoke curled up before his eyes, while the cigarette slipped from his fingers and landed on the ground – his one last hit.

Shizuo Heiwajima crushed glowing butt with his heel, smothering it against the sidewalk of an Ikebukuro street. As he had stood smoking in front of the apartment building, dressed in the usual bartender suit and paying little attention to anyone else, he was surprisingly nondescript. No stranger could have pegged him as the strongest man in Ikebukuro, which was the way Shizuo preferred it.

When the smoke was at last pushed from his lungs, Shizuo turned sharply to face the building behind him. It towered over him with its seven stories, all polished glass and metal glinting in the afternoon sun. When he entered inside, letting the door slam shut behind him, Shizuo felt as though he had welcomed himself home.

That was certainly how he thought of the place. Even though his apartment was small, it had everything he needed and suited him just fine. So long as he made very little noise, and he usually upheld that, there were no complaints from his neighbours. In fact, Shizuo might even go so far as to say he had made friends there.

There was, that he knew of, one who he would have counted close to him. His neighbour, Ryuji Shibata, was a blunt-tongued young man with an unshakeable demeanour. He made the perfect, practical companion to waste time with – or he had used to.

Ryuji wasn't around much anymore, on account of his recent death.

Shizuo could feel his mood souring at the reminder. It wasn't like he could have stopped it from happening, but there was no reason he shouldn't be bitter about the sudden change in his life. Where that man had once been, the moments walking past his apartment door and in the late hours of the night, was now rather lonely. Shizuo preferred not to think about Ryuji Shibata very much these days.

Shizuo's footsteps echoed down the hallway. Seven doors to the right, and he would be home. There, he could take up a seat on the couch and open a new packet of cigarettes. He wondered how they would taste if he drank a glass of milk in between.

Just before his door, however, Shizuo found himself pulling short. Six doors to the right was Ryuji's apartment, and with him being a dead man, the door should have been shut and locked – so why was it wide open?

He couldn't shake his curiosity. In a few steps, Shizuo found himself standing before the door. His hand reached for the golden doorknob, fingers curling through the gap between the door and its frame. At the odd chance this was a robbery, Shizuo refrained from calling out and instead invited himself inside in silence.

The layout mirrored his own apartment, with a short hall that led to an open kitchen and living area. The kitchen was to the left, island bench the only barrier between that and the carpeted lounge to the right.

He took one step inside, pulling off his sunglasses and letting his eyes adjust to the dark, before spotting the intruder. A young woman moving around from the couch to the kitchen caught his eye, her pale skin standing out in the dim light.

She stilled as her hands reached for the laptop on the bench, her gaze sliding towards him. Like sunlight through green leaves, her eyes were bright and curious as they peered at him from behind the dark curtain of her hair. A hand pushed the black locks behind her ear, her hair reaching no longer than her shoulder, before she pursued her lips in question.

"Who the hell are you?" She asked.

Shizuo felt his eyebrow jerk upwards. "Who the hell are you?"

She continued to stare, expression blank. The shadows in the room sharpened her features, cheeks he could tell were usually soft and eyes accentuated by makeup and arching brows. Looking at her felt like looking at the memory of something else he couldn't quite recall.

"This is Ryuji's place." Shizuo told her shortly, not bothering to explain further.

She caught his meaning anyway. "You know Ryu?" She paused, reconsidering. "…Or, knew him, I should say."

"I live next door."

The woman smiled but it didn't reach her eyes. "Well, come inside then." She ordered friendlily.

She waved to him, convincing Shizuo to take a few steps closer. He hadn't been inside Ryuji's apartment since news of his death, and he hadn't really wanted to. It seemed this woman had just arrived, as there were four suitcases on the floor and none of Ryuji's stuff had yet to be touched.

Shizuo turned his gaze back to her, peering closely at her. The woman stared right back at him, nonplussed, and Shizuo blurted out a question before he could stop himself. "Have we met before?"

The dark haired woman smiled sweetly, almost teasingly. "I think I would have remembered meeting you," she replied coyly, "Perhaps I seem familiar because I look a bit like Ryuji – I'm his sister, actually."

Shizuo shrugged. "He didn't mention you."

"Probably not." The woman agreed, glancing away briefly before turning back to him. She held out her hand this time and said, "Hikari Shibata. Pleasure to meet you."

Shizuo, after a moment's hesitation, shook her hand quickly. "Shizuo Heiwajima," he introduced, "Nice to meet you too."

"Is it?" Now it was his turn to stare. Hikari observed his reaction without a change in her own expression, not even so much as a blink. A smile played at her lips before she finally went on to explain, "You just found a strange woman inside the apartment of a dead man. You admitted you've never heard of me before, which means I could really be anyone at all."

"You're Ryuji's sister," Shizuo objected, "You said that yourself."

"I could be lying. And even at that point, aren't you curious that I've showed up and moved in here now, of all times? Ryu only died a couple of weeks ago."

Once again, Shizuo shrugged with his usual nonchalance. "It's none of my business." He figured. She called Ryuji 'Ryu' after all, which had to mean something.

Her laughter burst from her lips, so sudden that Shizuo found himself tensing. It rung in the silence of the apartment, lilting and songlike, and he wondered if it was genuine. Hikari looked like the type of woman to act the part of someone she wasn't.

"You're funny, Shizuo," Hikari giggled, "I feel like you and my brother would have gotten along well."

"I guess we did. I helped him find his way around when he first moved here."

"So you've lived in Ikebukuro for a while?" Hikari wondered, "What's it like?"

"You get used to all the shit that happens, just like any other place."

"Like any other place?"

"Yeah."

Hikari smiled playfully. "You're not doing a good job of selling Ikebukuro to me."

"Am I meant to?" Shizuo asked, a little taken aback. She talked to him as if he was the strange one, when he really thought it was the opposite.

"Wouldn't hurt," Hikari admitted, "But you don't have to."

Shizuo opened his mouth to reply, scouring for some sort of coherent reply, before a sudden ringing cut him off. Their eyes shot towards the bench in unison, narrowing in on the phone. The screen was bright, noisily vibrating against the wood. It rang for a good half a minute, and the entire time, all they did was stare at it in silence.

When the call went to voicemail, the home screen switching to display, Shizuo could glimpse the seven other missed calls she had from the same number.

Hikari turned to him as if nothing had happened. "Well," she began again, "With someone like you here, I guess Ikebukuro should prove to be very interesting."

"I don't know if that's a compliment."

"You can take it whatever way you want." Hikari told him, shrugging lightly.

She didn't hesitate to turn away from him, continuing on her business as if he wasn't even there. She moved quietly around, from a suitcase and back to the kitchen. In hand, she held a laptop charger which she left in a tangle beside her laptop.

Shizuo, accepting this as a form of conclusion, turned around and began to leave. He made it halfway down the hall when a budding thought forced him to stiffen and turn back to her.

His attention caught her gaze, and Hikari stared wide-eyed as he bowed his head towards her.

"I never did say," He told her, voice dull has he forced back his own bitter emotions, "Sorry about your brother. That he died, I mean."

"You don't have to apologise for something like that," Hikari told him, hiding a smile behind her hand, "Not like it's your fault, is it?"

Shizuo shook his head, marking an end to the conversation. He continued on his way out, fingers itching to reach into his pocket. He needed that next cigarette now, something to smoke while he thought over his meeting with this strange woman.

"Oh!" Hikari exclaimed from behind him, making him glance back, "It was Heiwajima, wasn't it?"

"Shizuo Heiwajima." He repeated, hand on the door handle.

Hikari nodded. "How do you spell it?"

It was an odd request, but it wasn't like it would do him any harm. "H-E-I-W-A-J-I-M-A." Shizuo answered.

She smiled sweetly, before turning away towards the bench. Shizuo, still looking at her, allowed his eyes to travel down her profile. Dark hair fell forward over his eyes, her back arching as she lifted herself over the bench and reached for something unknown to him. She was strange, he decided, but not all that bad.

He fixed his expression, recovering himself in a single breath, and accidently slammed the door shut on his way out.

Hikari glanced down her hall, her eyes roaming the floors that blonde man had just walked. Her lips quirked into a strange shape, before she turned and leant her forearms against the cool bench top before her.

She held a pen between her fingers, the tip pressed to a notepad as she let out a small sigh.

She smiled as she scribbled the note, careful to check that her spelling was correct. "Shizuo Heiwajima, huh?"

At this point, all I can promise is consistent updates and a slow-burning romance (or as slow as you can get when the fic is only ~21 chapters long). You'll have to judge the plot and writing for yourselves ;)

Thank you so much for reading and I really hope you review!

(forewarning: I might not always reply because I'm fucking shit, but that doesn't mean I don't love you or appreciate your feedback/criticism)