Blinding Light, In The Night.

There's a lot of things that pissed off Heiwajima Shizuo, and the list of things was certainly numerous, as long as it was in the vicinity of the easily-irritated man with inhumanely strong strength, things would not turn out well.

The one thing he hated most out of anything on this planet was the same annoying thing sitting next to him at this very moment. The information broker known as Orihara Izaya.

Those two didn't go well together.

However, in this particular situation, inhumane strength did not stop several tranquilizer shots used for putting down larger-than-human animals, and it certainly didn't help that when Shizuo had woken up he had been dumped into the back of a truck along with some crates, his limbs feeling utterly useless as he tried lifting them up.

In the end, he decided to leave them be and dragged his annoyed face concealing anger over to the louse next to him known as 'Orihara Izaya,' someone Shizuo felt like he could use a wrap around the neck and some friendly neck snapping.

Shizuo spoke with a bitter distaste and with a sharp tone. "Louse, what the hell did you do now, huh?"

Izaya had awaken to the hum of an engine, feeling his own head bounce against the hard floor. He rolled onto his back, feeling as though a cloud had settled across his mind. His vision was a downright wonderful smear of colors, and the gruff voice snapping at him only added to the distaste brewing at the back of his throat.

"As conversational as always, Shizu-chan," he muttered, sitting up. His fingers searched his coat pockets for his omnipresent switchblade, only to come up empty. He ended up knotting his hand in his hair, trying to stem the headache springing up among his synapses. As he eyed the brute, he wondered - considering that they must've used tranquilizers with enough punch to knock out a gorilla, Shizuo seemed relatively fine.

As expected of the protozoan.

He stretched his arms above his head, shirt hiking up every so slightly to expose pale flesh, and worked out the kinks in his back. An easy smile tugged at his lips - a slightly softer version of his usual smirk, lacking the usual bite. The informant was aware that he was in a very small area with a beast - the cage, so to speak; he wasn't as tempted to toe past the thin line between them with provocation, but that wouldn't stop him from trading sly insults that would no doubt slip past the brute's radar.

Languidly, he folded his legs underneath each other, resting a hand against his cheek. "Oh, I didn't plan this. It seems someone got cocky enough to play with the fortissimo of Ikebukuro," He chirped and steepled his fingers. "Someone other than myself, of course."

"Like hell I buy your bullshit, flea." He absent-mindedly tries to reach for a cigarette, but realizes that his limbs were still limp from the tranquilizers.

A thought echoed his mind for a brief moment.

Annoying.

He disposed of the thought and his focus returned to the bastard who got him here in the first place.

"Whatever. As soon as I can feel my limbs again, I'll punch your throat in so I don't have to listen to your dumb shit." He scoffs, quite obviously displeased with the whole situation.

The situation of trust with Izaya was not the best one, and in this case, he nay even dare to put a metaphorical inch of trust in Izaya, as that felt like he'd shake hands with the Devil to sell his soul.

His eyes turn once again to the front of the truck, wondering why there hasn't been a guard to come over and shut the two of them up.

Izaya spread out his hands in front of him, as if he was admiring the scenery. His expression soured almost imperceptibly - looks like he was off in his previous observation - before recovering. "Shizu-chan can't move? Let's hope this is temporary. I would be very cross if they broke my toy without my permission."

He wiggled his hands in almost childlike delight. "Ne, Shizu-chan, I propose a truce. It would be a pity if we kill each other before they do, wouldn't it? Imagine how disappointed they would be. You were always one to think of others, after all."

His voice was smooth, betraying a slight edge of mocking disgust, though his mind was at work. He was mentally listing all the people who could have targeted him; in his line of work, kidnapping was to be expected. After all, his job was selling people's secrets and as a result pissing them off.

In case you were wondering, no, Izaya didn't plan on partnering up with the protozoan. He was simply using the other; that monster strength of his was bound to be useful. Swaying in tandem with the truck, he got to his feet, supporting a hand against the wall. His mind continued to throb, yet he bit down on the pain. Now was no time for his judgement to be clouded.

When was it … ? When did they knock me out? What was I doing then? Was it one of the groups Shiki-san asked me to check? It must be. Think, think, think … How far had we traveled? What direction are we going in?

Facing away from Shizuo, he pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. There were no windows, the only faint source of light being the miniscule slat that could slide back and forth to reveal the front of the truck.

The offer nearly made Shizuo break into laughter - instead, he posed a grin instead.

"So now you want a truce with me? Shit, the flea's bein' real desperate here. Well, whatever, don't expect me to be buddy-buddy with you, since I still want to break at least one body part of yours."

His eyes narrowed at the slat, maybe he could see through it?

…

Nah. Not happening.

He sighs, his glasses dropping very slightly.

Annoying.

There wasn't much that he could do now. His choice of movement was limited, the only thing he could do was move his head- ah, wait, he felt a few finger tips twitching. There's progress, at least. Very slow and annoying progress; but progress nonetheless.

"Desperate?" Izaya snorted. "If anything, I'm being smart, conspiring with the dog." His smile widened. "But ah, I can't help but wonder if you've been house-trained enough to follow your owner's lead." Izaya shifted to the front of the truck, trying to tug the slat open. Predictably enough, it was glued shut.

"As for breaking my body, I wish you luck with that. You haven't ever been able to catch me before, and I don't expect you to start now." The next moment, he was stiffening, the truck beginning to dip into a turn.

Shizuo's head turned to the roof, and he listened intently.

Tap tap tap tap tap taptaptaptap…

Was that… rain? Seemed like the most likely thing. It wasn't winter yet, so it couldn't be snow or hail, so he had to have figured that it'd be rain.

"Huh. So that's how they got us out of Ikebukuro so easily. Damn."

Izaya glanced at the other from over his shoulder, eyes narrowing.

"Don't think too hard, Shizu-chan. A feat like that is difficult for you, I know; I should be applauding your victory. However, your brain frying is not on the agenda. All you need to do is sit there, lift heavy things, and look pretty." He tapped his chin once in mock-thought. "All three must be beyond your level; I shouldn't overestimate you."

Shizuo turned his head, again, to the louse. "God, you're so unbearable to be around, flea. I'm fucking shocked you had a secretary that didn't try to kill you because you were being such an obnoxious asshole. Tch."

Izaya frowned at the word 'Secretary.' Namie-san? She must be celebrating with her beloved Seiji-kun. He sighed to himself in a mixture of longing and contentedness. Ah, such deliciously twisted love, as expected of my precious humans.

Shizuo looks down at his legs with an annoyed frown, then back to Izaya. "Oi, flea, you got your phone on you?"

At the suggestion, Izaya fished around in his pockets once more. The familiar weight of the sleek device was gone; he didn't miss that the first time around. However, there was something else there. His questing fingers closed around the object, and he pulled it out. It was a small square of paper, folded neatly down the center.

He flicked it open, eyebrow raising at the comment written in precise, swirling script.

"Enjoying your quality time? Just wait. There's more to come."

Izaya read the words aloud, pouting slightly at he finished. There was no name, no initial, not any way to link it back to the writer. The most he could tell from this was that the perpetrator, or perpetrators, had an interesting form of humor.

By interesting he meant disgusting.

"Eh? So the guy that got us here's an asshole too. That'll make it easier to punch him in his face once we break outta here. Don't think we'll be out of here for a while, though." Shizuo does a mental shrug, "They have to put some distance between us and Ikebukuro first. A lot of distance."

Even though it wasn't the end of the world, listening to Izaya was…

Annoying.

Izaya felt the truck slow and turn, tipping to the side to reciprocate, just so that he would keep his balance rather than ungracefully falling on his face. If anything, the fact that Izaya was free to move around yet Shizuo was in invisible restraints had to account to something.

Was it just a way to keep them from killing each other?

How long would it take until Shizuo could move again?

Izaya felt himself frown at the thought that he was relying on the beast. No, surely not. If anything, the beast was relying on him to do the thinking. After all, Shizuo was about as useless as a lump of sugar right now, and a lump of sugar would at least carry a conversation more effectively than the single-celled amoeba.

As Izaya diverted his attention to the crates piled in the back, he felt Shizuo's demanding presence grate on his nerves. His steps were soft and quiet, and once again, he had to stop to focus on balance when he felt the truck begin to turn.

Izaya stiffened in rumination about where they are, yet he doubted that was the most immediate concern. The truck jolted as it ran over something - a rock? Grates?

Being kept in the dark like this . . . Izaya felt the cold press of emotion in the back of his throbbing head, a sensation not unlike wheeling right out of control.

At any rate, he slid the lid off the nearest crate, the wood creaking and showering splinters as it hit the ground. He rummaged around the styrofoam, fingers closing over something sleek and cylindrical - a marker. There was more in this box, but the object in his hand captured his attention.

"Oh look, Shizu-chan~" Izaya grew closer to the other, uncapping the lid. The marker's plastic glinted faintly, like some sort of unorthodox knife. In his clear-cut handwriting, Izaya wrote the distinctive kanji along Shizuo's cheek:

獣

"Monster," he whispered scathingly, then patted the other on the shoulder like a job well-done. Louder, he continued, "See? I named you, like a good owner should." He capped the marker and placed it in Shizuo's lap. "Hold onto this chew toy for me."

Shizuo quickly retorted by spitting in Izaya's face.

"Fuck you, Izaya. I hope you rot in hell. Whatever the hell you did, you dragged me into this as well, because this sick fuck thought he'd get some sympathy out of having his rival as a hostage, like some kind of fucked up story. This truce we have is temporary, and as soon as I can, I'll leave you in the fucking dust to die for all I care. Go fuck yourself, Izaya, you dumb fucking flea."

Annoying. This is all annoying.

The corner's of Izaya's lips upturned. Ah, there's my monster and his venomous anger.

Amusing.

He flicked the saliva off his face, clicking his tongue in disapproval. "Temper, temper," he chided, in the same patronizing way an adult would be scolding a child. "At least you're finally being yourself, rather than parading about, acting so kind around your caretakers. No one likes a fake."

"Shut the hell up and open the rest of those boxes." The fingers on his left hand twitched. More progress was being made.

Shizuo began thinking just how he was going to get along with this flea. He couldn't bear all this shit he's been doing to him, but at least he'll get his chance to teach Izaya a lesson once the tranquilizers wear off.

Truthfully, he wasn't being truly serious when he threatened to leave Izaya the first chance he had, since he was holed up in here with him, and he was going to be stuck with him, at least, until they can find their way out of this hellhole. He wasn't expecting anything up ahead to be pretty, and he knew that they wouldn't do any of the ordinary, or else they'd have already been riddled with bullets from the start, as corpses on the ground in Ikebukuro.

That'd make for one hell of a headline.

Izaya giggled at the eloquent response he got. "Hai, hai," he replied, the other's movement not going unnoticed by him. He's even recovering like a beast.

As he crouched by the crates and rummaged around, he was quiet for once, lips pursed in thought. Izaya wasn't sure how to feel about the situation, and so he resorted to feeling casual indifference. However, as soon as he found out who had the audacity to kidnap him, as well as his monster, he wouldn't play so nicely.

His teeth ground against each other realizing what was left for them. In the boxes, there were heart-shaped boxes of chocolate truffles, decadent bottles of wine, pink sheets of paper with a floral aroma, markers and pens of various colors, scented candles and matches, and - his fingers jostled clicking links of metal - chains and shackles. Bile crept up the back of his throat.

The implications were clear.

In the adjacent ones pressed against the very back, he found blankets and pillows colored a brusque shade of red, as well as an inflatable mattress with heart-shaped designs. His mouth curled with disgust, but he forced a cheerful tone, choosing to lie by omission.

"Shizu-chan, they were kind enough to leave us presents." He pretended to search around some more, packing styrofoam peanuts dislodged, a few stray ones landing by Shizuo. "Let's see . . . There's some paper, markers, blankets, food - ah, look. Milk. That's similar to a sedative for you, ne?"

At the mention of precious milk, Shizuo resisted the urge to tell him to hand it over, since that would probably mean he'd try and make him drink it like some sort of baby - which, coincidentally, is what Izaya probably wanted him to do. Damn flea.

Shizuo groaned.

This truck's pissing me off with its constant turning.

He started wondering what it was supposed to mean…

Izaya could see that the brute was thinking again and decided to intervene on this phenomenon, lest Shizuo hurt himself. "We're going in circles. Surely you realized that by now, brute, unless I'm overestimating you again?" He gestured lavishly at the crates. "They expect us to stay here for a while."

What an insult. His fingers clenched over the fabric of his dark jeans minutely, and he leaned back on his haunches, watching Shizuo sidelong with a lazy half-smile.

Shizuo let out an annoyed groan.

"The tranquilizers are gonna wear off sometime soon, so all I have to do is sit and wait. Doesn't sound so hard."

Truth be told, while it didn't sound so bad, spending more and more time with this flea made Shizuo more irritated and annoyed; hell, the tranquilizers might just wear off even faster if Izaya can piss him off really badly, which he was quite an adept at doing. He was Izaya, after all, and Izaya's very presence was enough to put Shizuo in a bad mood.

He considered on what to say for a few moments.

"While we're here and kidnapped, could you at least be a little less of an asshole, huh? Unless you want your throat ripped out."

His hands twitched, and Shizuo could feel a slight amount of movement returning to his arms.

Izaya made a sound halfway between a laugh and a scoff. "Oh, Shizu-chan. You expect too much of me. How can I cut down the time of indulging in one of my favorite hobbies - poking and prodding at the monster?"

He took what could be useful. He spread one of the blankets out, putting in whatever food there was, as well as the matches, candles, paper, chains (Tch.), and markers. The last probably weren't going to help, but he had taken a liking to them.

His rustic orbs slid to the swirling ink on Shizuo's cheek. Monster. As he gathered the blanket up and tied it using the extra length of the chain, he repeated the word to himself, again and again. Monster. Monster. Monster.

"Quit fuckin' lookin' at me like that." Shizuo sharply replied.

The inner mantra continued, even as another obnoxious laugh was let out at the statement. Much to his own surprise, he obliged, quietly retreating to the far side of the truck. He felt along the edges, digging his nails in the ridge between the door and the adjacent walls. His fingers skimmed over the latch, and he paused. Is it . . . ?

The silence continued to stretch out between them like molasses. He began to giggle. It must have seemed quite manic to observers, but there was no time to dwell on that now.

"'The most obvious solution is the correct one,'" he stated to himself.

The latch clicked open, and Izaya lifted the door up. Immediately, wind and rain rippled through his hair, snapping his shirt back. The road was a blur of black. The surroundings were dark with trees, whatever moonlight that broke through the clouds casting long shadows.

The trees . . . he couldn't be sure from the darkness, but he had a feeling they weren't native to Japan.

"What do you think, Shizu-chan?" he stated, voice raising to carry over the sound of wind, engine, and rain. "Lovely weather we're having."

Shizuo rolled his eyes. "You gonna make your great escape there? I wouldn't be against it, but it's probably a good idea to get your ass back here instead of making your head wet."

Shizuo could feel more movement return to his arms, and some to his legs. But nothing yet to his torso, since that's where he was tranquilized, of course.

"A great escape," he echoed, a little dreamily. The prospect of death enticed him, so long as he can ensure where he was going. That was where Celty came in, and all the happenings in Ikebukuro …

Izaya held the edge of the truck and leaned forward as far as he could go without falling. As he was introduced to icy rain, he wondered what hell was raised by his disappearance, and to an extent, Shizuo's.

Getting back to daily routine, to completing his quest, to watching his oh-so-predictable humans - it seemed so far away now. It was as if he had strayed too far from the road. He was reminded of Japanese folklore, speaking of a snow woman with ephemeral beauty who draws travelers into a cold grave, much like sirens did to sailors.

Perhaps this is what it is like to be lead astray.

His breaths condensed in the air, and the urge to return back to familiarity possessed him. He leaned out a little more, fingers straining against the slick metal.

"Are you fucking nuts, flea? Actually, don't answer that."

It was then when Izaya's hearing wasn't muffled by the truck's engine did he notice a periodic tic tic tic.

His gaze dropped to the bombs lining the bottom of the truck, like little red eyes by the truck's tail lights. "It seems we are under a time limit. I suppose this is the warm-up for whatever they have planned. There is no jumping off of this, lest you want me to break every bone in my body, Shizu-chan. Surely you wouldn't want that when you clearly want to do that yourse-"

Izaya broke off, coming to a conclusion that he very clearly found funny. He leaned back into the truck, hair and face damp, coat dripping, and clutched his sides as he convulsed with laughter. He even pantomimed wiping a tear away.

"The hell's so funny about all of this?" Shizuo asked Izaya, in an angry tone. He always wondered why the louse had to be so mysterious about everything.

Izaya's torso ached as he fought the laughter down. He grinned, and perhaps it was the droplets of water trailing down his face, as well as the reddish hue cast from the bombs and truck's lights combined, that it seemed a little wild, a little demonic.

"Shizu-chan," he began, speaking slowly and enunciating each vowel carefully, even as his voice wavered with mirth. "If I jumped off, I'd be dead, unfortunately. If you did, with your monster body, you'd be fine, but now you clearly can't move anything beyond your hands, from what I can tell. However, if you broke my fall … " He trailed off, leaving Shizu-chan to fill in the blanks.

Izaya settled back, as if watching this was a good show, and snickered. It was always interesting watching Shizuo's nonexistent brain fry.

No. You have to be fuckin' with me. This flea is NOT serious.

"So you plan on usin' me as a fucking meat-shield, louse? You're fuckin' with me, right? That ain't the only way we can get ourselves out of this hellhole. You can lift me up and carry me over so that I can bust that fuckin' slat open so that you can stop the truck. Flea, I am not gonna be your bounce ball."

Izaya sighed. If anything, by the pattern the truck was taking, he expected that there wasn't anyone driving it. It must be controlled remotely; when the bombs go off, whoever had them here wouldn't want one of their own to perish.

He shrugged inwardly, sounding vaguely resigned. "Shizu-chan - I know you lack the minimum logic a person is supposed to have since you're a monster, but this is too much, even for you." Nonetheless, Izaya walked over to the other, supposing that the brute should see it for himself to get it through his thick skull.

As much as it disgusted him to engage in physical contact rather than having sharp blades as the connecting medium, Izaya turned around, bent down, and lifted Shizuo's arms over his shoulders. Legs tensing, he straightened, taking the blond with him. "Ne, Shizu~ Ever imagined embracing me like this?" The gibe was uttered in a mixture of mocking and distaste, his smirk sharp as ever.

Shizuo scowled. He really did not like being dragged by the flea, and that suggestion of his did not help anything in this situation. He knew one person who wanted it to be that way, but he'd rather sell his soul to the actual Devil than do that.

"No. That's disgusting. You're disgusting. C'mon, hurry this shit up, I'd rather get this over with sooner than later." His voice was resigned and annoyed, as always.

What Shizuo didn't mention was that he's gotten a decent amount of feeling back in his arms, and he'd rather save his energy for later than try to punch Izaya's teeth out right on the spot. He did consider it a legitimate possibility, however. As with many other things that included inflicting pain of varying degrees to the flea bastard.

Izaya raised an eyebrow, smile unfaltering. "Says the one whose breath smells like those wretched cancer sticks. Shizu-chan must be feeling the effects of not having one, ne? Or are the tranquilizers enough to keep you from your revolting habits?"

With the height difference, Shizuo's feet ended up dragging on the floor, and Izaya had to stop every so often whenever the truck had to turn and his grip on Shizuo's wrists slipped. "Shizu-chan should hold back on the sweets~" he stated, the closest thing that will come to a legitimate complaint.

Shizuo wasn't that heavy, yet Izaya was one of a lithe build.

"Not my fault you're so fuckin' weak. I'm surprised you could even hold me up. Stop whining, and focus on getting over there, I can't... "

Shizuo did not regret saying the next words.

"I can't stand you for any longer than I have to." A small grin forms on his face.

Izaya snorted. "Is Shizu-chan actually resorting to puns? I feel as though I'm watching evolution fast-forward. Perhaps you have graduated from being a protozoan and are now the most primitive of animals - the placozoa."

Finally, they reached the front of the truck, and Izaya lifted Shizuo's hands by the slat.

There was no timer on the bombs out back, so Izaya couldn't help but picture the amusing scene of Shizuo breaking it open only to turn the truck into a burning pile of scrap metal.

"Didn't know you had such a high opinion of me, flea." His eyes narrowed through the slat, and being much closer this time…

There was neither a driver nor a steering wheel. It was all automated.

"Fuck. Guess you really have to use me as a fuckin' meat-shield, huh. Better hope my suit doesn't get torn."

He sighs. "Just fuckin'... hurry up."

So like Shizu-chan to care of his darling brother's suit. Izaya began to head back to the open end of the truck and dumped Shizuo unceremoniously onto the ground.

"Fucking louse…"

As he gathered the bed-sheet-that-doubled-as-a-bag and slung it over his shoulder, he crouched back down, smiling innocently. The truck jolted as it ran over something again, most probably the object from before. "Shizu-chan, you should be able to move your arms by now. You have to hold onto me." So that I don't become unidentifiable roadkill.

"Where exactly do you want me to hold you? You know this better than I do."

Izaya's eyebrows lifted almost imperceptibly as he sat by the other. Shizuo was being surprisingly agreeable. "One arm holding my waist, the other my head, so that I don't get whiplash."

Shizuo doesn't reply as he does just that (though with slightly slowed movements), and Izaya can feel his tight grip even in Shizuo's weakened state.

"Now or never, flea."

Once again, Izaya straightened. The ends of his hair were curling from his mini-bath in the rain, and his coat still left trails of water. However, with his head against the other's chest, he could still feel Shizuo's warmth through the cold.

It's like he's a space heater, Izaya thought, inexplicably grumpy with that observation.

It was an odd way of carrying someone, which meant it was just as difficult moving that someone, yet Izaya managed to reach the lip of the exit with his pack bundled in one hand and Shizuo's shirt in the other. Wind and rain combined pushed them back; Izaya's legs tightened, keeping them rooted in place as well as bracing himself to jump.

"Here we go, Shizu-chan~"

With that, Izaya threw themselves off the truck.