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fandomweekly2020-03-09 09:38 pm
polarissruler) wrote in fandomweekly2020-03-09 09:38 pm
Entry tags:
[43] MATTER OF TRUST - DURARARA!!
Theme Prompt: 043 - Perfection
Title: Matter of Trust
Fandom: Durarara!!
Rating/Warnings: Spoilers for the ending of the first novel
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 998
Summary: After Izaya's plans fail, Namie tries to make sense of his ramblings.
“They did not act as planned…”
When Namie had run to Izaya, she knew she would sell her dignity in the deal with the devil. Yet nothing - not even her pride - would stay in the way of her love for Seiji. Taking care of childish temper tantrums was another part of her unwritten job characteristic. Could her boss not act his age at least once?
“Don’t worry,” said she after ordering her thoughts, “There’s no such thing as perfect. In the end, you are only human.” Her eyes were bound by her skull; otherwise, they would have rolled back all the way to her brain.
Izaya did not bother answering; he seldom did. Letting his opponents weave their own wrong assumptions - that was his favorite pastime. He sat in his chair over the flat board in front of him - a god over his domain. Only he knew the meaning of pieces from different games which moved by his own rules. Namie had tried to understand them - anything to gain an advantage over him. So far she had only her - most likely incorrect - assumptions.
“They did not act as planned…” Her boss repeated, without even looking up from his board. Had he forgotten that Namie was sitting opposite him at the desk? His fingers nudged a chess pawn forward, then stopped and put it back in starting position. “No,” said he, “he might not do that…”
A drawer in his desk opened; Namie could not even see Izaya’s hand moving. The third one from the bottom; she had stacked it so often that she could recite its contents. A pack of tarot cards - never opened. Documents that changed every week or so.
Namie heard wood hitting cardboard. He had taken the box of matches.
“They did not act as planned…” Izaya opened his free hand and moved it up and down - as if trying to measure how much his words weighted. Then he spun in his chair to look through his huge window - and he became just a human. His finger traced the movements of people under him - an orchestrator that followed someone else’s notes. “I have mistaken.”
No matter how much taunting Izaya until he finally broke down would satisfy Namie, she would lose everything she had fought for. If she left her boss to burn at the whims of his own insanity, the head could disappear, any chance to have her Seiji back along with it. How should she explain to him that the world did not revolve around him? A mother - she had taken that position. “You need to learn from them and” - she felt like vomiting any moment from the cliches she had been spewing - “move on.”
“It is foolish to trust those, who have betrayed you even once.” This time, Izaya was speaking to her. “Who has betrayed me in this case, I wonder?” The doubt in his voice had disappeared; the question was not for himself, but for Namie. “Maybe the people have betrayed me - they have refused to act the roles I have given them. That’s the easy answer - I can stop trusting people at all.” His stare - sharper than his knives - aimed straight at Namie’s heart. “Or my expectations for the people have betrayed me. Does it mean I must stop trusting even myself? If you are not perfect - if your opinions are wrong even once - can you trust yourself at all?”
“It is so rare for you to care about someone else’s opinion. What’s the occasion?” Namie’s hand held the door handle. The head seemed out of danger; she had no more reason to stay.
“I love humans - why is it so strange to ask about their thoughts?” Izaya’s smile - strained like a stretched sling ready to shoot - sent shivers down Namie’s spine. “Do you think there’s anything perfect in this world? Anything you can trust without doubt crossing your mind even once?”
Namie opened the door. “I’m not going to give you even more control over myself. Make your own assumptions - just like you force me.”
“Would it be fair if I told you first, then? It seems you don’t trust me at all - then you must not consider me perfect. I don’t consider myself perfect, either. If I can’t trust myself how can I expect others to trust me? And yet people are so ready to take me at face value. Do they see me as perfect, then? Ah, how bad I can’t return them the favor. After all, even when you push them in the intended direction, they can push back. That’s what makes them human; that’s what makes them interesting. And that’s why I’ll never trust them.” Izaya stopped for a moment. “Life where you trust nobody - the perfect existence for a coward like me. Can I trust, then, that my life will never change?”
“Ah, if only the poor boy had found the meaning of friendship.” Namie walked out of the office but kept the door open. “Did you expect I would show you some sympathy and tell you my own life story? What can I say that you haven’t already learned?”
“I thought you would say something about your perfect love for your brother, or something like that.” The sweet voice - the one that Izaya used on clients - had always made Namie sick. People would do anything for that voice.
“My love for Seiji is perfect. My bother is perfect.” The heavy door slammed itself shut - a second too slow, because Namie had heard Izaya’s parting words.
“But you cannot trust him - Mika has tricked him, after all. If he is imperfect, does it mean your love for him is imperfect, too?
What did that coward who had not shown sympathy to another human being know about love? Namie stomped down the stairs, running. Away from the office. Away form him. His words had not hit her so hard before - why could she not shake them off once again, as she had always done?
Title: Matter of Trust
Fandom: Durarara!!
Rating/Warnings: Spoilers for the ending of the first novel
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 998
Summary: After Izaya's plans fail, Namie tries to make sense of his ramblings.
“They did not act as planned…”
When Namie had run to Izaya, she knew she would sell her dignity in the deal with the devil. Yet nothing - not even her pride - would stay in the way of her love for Seiji. Taking care of childish temper tantrums was another part of her unwritten job characteristic. Could her boss not act his age at least once?
“Don’t worry,” said she after ordering her thoughts, “There’s no such thing as perfect. In the end, you are only human.” Her eyes were bound by her skull; otherwise, they would have rolled back all the way to her brain.
Izaya did not bother answering; he seldom did. Letting his opponents weave their own wrong assumptions - that was his favorite pastime. He sat in his chair over the flat board in front of him - a god over his domain. Only he knew the meaning of pieces from different games which moved by his own rules. Namie had tried to understand them - anything to gain an advantage over him. So far she had only her - most likely incorrect - assumptions.
“They did not act as planned…” Her boss repeated, without even looking up from his board. Had he forgotten that Namie was sitting opposite him at the desk? His fingers nudged a chess pawn forward, then stopped and put it back in starting position. “No,” said he, “he might not do that…”
A drawer in his desk opened; Namie could not even see Izaya’s hand moving. The third one from the bottom; she had stacked it so often that she could recite its contents. A pack of tarot cards - never opened. Documents that changed every week or so.
Namie heard wood hitting cardboard. He had taken the box of matches.
“They did not act as planned…” Izaya opened his free hand and moved it up and down - as if trying to measure how much his words weighted. Then he spun in his chair to look through his huge window - and he became just a human. His finger traced the movements of people under him - an orchestrator that followed someone else’s notes. “I have mistaken.”
No matter how much taunting Izaya until he finally broke down would satisfy Namie, she would lose everything she had fought for. If she left her boss to burn at the whims of his own insanity, the head could disappear, any chance to have her Seiji back along with it. How should she explain to him that the world did not revolve around him? A mother - she had taken that position. “You need to learn from them and” - she felt like vomiting any moment from the cliches she had been spewing - “move on.”
“It is foolish to trust those, who have betrayed you even once.” This time, Izaya was speaking to her. “Who has betrayed me in this case, I wonder?” The doubt in his voice had disappeared; the question was not for himself, but for Namie. “Maybe the people have betrayed me - they have refused to act the roles I have given them. That’s the easy answer - I can stop trusting people at all.” His stare - sharper than his knives - aimed straight at Namie’s heart. “Or my expectations for the people have betrayed me. Does it mean I must stop trusting even myself? If you are not perfect - if your opinions are wrong even once - can you trust yourself at all?”
“It is so rare for you to care about someone else’s opinion. What’s the occasion?” Namie’s hand held the door handle. The head seemed out of danger; she had no more reason to stay.
“I love humans - why is it so strange to ask about their thoughts?” Izaya’s smile - strained like a stretched sling ready to shoot - sent shivers down Namie’s spine. “Do you think there’s anything perfect in this world? Anything you can trust without doubt crossing your mind even once?”
Namie opened the door. “I’m not going to give you even more control over myself. Make your own assumptions - just like you force me.”
“Would it be fair if I told you first, then? It seems you don’t trust me at all - then you must not consider me perfect. I don’t consider myself perfect, either. If I can’t trust myself how can I expect others to trust me? And yet people are so ready to take me at face value. Do they see me as perfect, then? Ah, how bad I can’t return them the favor. After all, even when you push them in the intended direction, they can push back. That’s what makes them human; that’s what makes them interesting. And that’s why I’ll never trust them.” Izaya stopped for a moment. “Life where you trust nobody - the perfect existence for a coward like me. Can I trust, then, that my life will never change?”
“Ah, if only the poor boy had found the meaning of friendship.” Namie walked out of the office but kept the door open. “Did you expect I would show you some sympathy and tell you my own life story? What can I say that you haven’t already learned?”
“I thought you would say something about your perfect love for your brother, or something like that.” The sweet voice - the one that Izaya used on clients - had always made Namie sick. People would do anything for that voice.
“My love for Seiji is perfect. My bother is perfect.” The heavy door slammed itself shut - a second too slow, because Namie had heard Izaya’s parting words.
“But you cannot trust him - Mika has tricked him, after all. If he is imperfect, does it mean your love for him is imperfect, too?
What did that coward who had not shown sympathy to another human being know about love? Namie stomped down the stairs, running. Away from the office. Away form him. His words had not hit her so hard before - why could she not shake them off once again, as she had always done?