It was just one of those normal days in Ikebukuro. Well, it was a normal day for all of the citizens who lived there. The dark haired man turned around in his chair, looking out of the window behind his desk. He watched as the snow fell from the sky, and hit the ground. Sooner or later, he knew that he'd have to leave his office, and go out in this mess. He wasn't looking forward to that at all, but he had to go home soon.

Hours past, and Izaya knew that he had to face it, and go home. The snow had let up a little bit, so at least the walk home would be a little better for him. Izaya walked out of his office, and shut the door behind him, walking out of the tall building, and soon walking away.

Something was making the Orihara uncomfortable, maybe it was the fact that it was a little too quiet in a city, which was usually bustling with people, or maybe it could have been that this day was easily about to turn in the snap of a finger, but something, made him feel uneasy.

"IZAAAYAAAAAAAAAAAA!" He knew that voice like the back of his hand, and the worst part about this, he couldn't bring himself to move. Could it be that he was actually in shock? Izaya, who was very hesitant, turned around, only to be hit with a vending machine, and just like that the snow was painted with blood. "Shizu-chan…"

In the blink of an eye, tons of people poured out from buildings, and shops, surrounding the man who was crushed.

Shizuo stood in shock. Did he actually just, no…that's impossible. Izaya wouldn't die even if he were to slit his own throat. The blonde walked towards the crowd of people, pushing them aside so that he could see this for himself, and once he reached the center of the crowd, there he was, Izaya Orihara, the man that Shizuo couldn't stand, the one who he told himself constantly that he would kill. It seems that it was Shizuo's lucky day.

"Is he dead?"

"I think…"

"He isn't dead…" Shizuo spoke. "Isn't that right, Izaya?" He kicked at the vending machine, before picking it up.

"…."

Everything went completely silent; you could hear a pen drop.

"So, you are dead after all?" He thought to himself, throwing the vending machine away from the corpse. "Hm…" He shrugged, and walked off of the scene. Deep inside, Shizuo was actually crushed, he couldn't believe that Izaya was actually dead, and he definitely wasn't going to take this lightly. He sighed, and steadily walked towards his home.

Minutes passed, and Shizuo found himself on his bed. He took off those glasses of his, placing them on the nightstand. What was he going to do without Izaya around? Sure, he did have other people to tend too, but Izaya honestly kept him entertained. He was always too busy trying to kill him or coming up with ideas on how to kill him and he never actually got bored.

It continued to flash through his mind, all of that blood, and not to mention, the corpse itself, he didn't realize that his eyes were actually starting to water. "Shizuo, what are you doing? You hated him, didn't you?" He thought to himself, burying his face into his pillow, and drifting off into a light sleep.

Shizuo couldn't sleep. He kept having dreams about the Orihara, and how the blood splattered the ground, and that lifeless vessel.

Shizuo was bolted awake. He couldn't take it. He sat on the side of his bed, and buried his face in his hands. This was too much for him. The strongest man in Ikebukuro had a weak spot, and of all things, it was Izaya Orihara, and he couldn't help but let a few tears fall.

"It's my fault."