This would be the last "first time." He swore it to himself every single day, and yet it never was.

Izaya, or rather Psyche, brightened the second he walked in to the somewhat stark hospital room; it had a warm glow bouncing off the walls from the late afternoon sun, but aside from a notebook and a vase of simple flowers, there wasn't a damn thing personal to be found. No clothes, bags, IDs, drinks, food… it was a painfully plain room. Shizuo grumped a greeting to the figure on the bed, and "Psyche" made a comment about his lovely lack of articulation.

"Aren't you going to tell me your name?" the brunette asked, eyes a little sad. He knew something was wrong, but he didn't know what. It bothered him. It bothered him, and yet he didn't know why, so he would plead sweetly, "But you came to see me, so I knew you before, right? It's not like you're coming to see me even if you hate me, right?"

That's what it was. He hated the damn flea, but only this time… only in this case did he feel responsible for him.

He should've stuck to chasing him with his fists. Throwing things was always a bad idea. Rather, the monster he was born as was a bad idea.

Not to be put off by the grumbly visitor, "Psyche" picked something else to talk about, not realizing that it was just as touchy a subject as his guest's name. "Those flowers… ah, they were probably there yesterday too, weren't they? I can't remember, you see. It's like my mind resets itself at night, and so even though I can see they're a little wilted and the water needs changing, I don't remember them being there at all until today. Oh… but if you're visiting me, that must mean you know about that, right?"

No answer, of course. Because the only answer was that, yes, those flowers had been there for the last week, when Shizuo brought them. "Psyche" had exclaimed over them jubilantly, touching the petals with a gentle finger, eyes sparkling with some strange sort of childish wonder.

That was one more time he sworn it would be the "last first time," and yet here he was. Seven visits later, and nothing was different. Orihara Izaya still couldn't remember anything, and according to the doctors he never would. His slate was clean, and every day he woke up as "Psyche," whoever the hell that was, with no past and no particular anticipated future, and nothing around him familiar. Each morning he was made to accept that he had lost all his memories, and yet they allowed him to be convinced of whatever second life this was he had adopted. Shizuo's fingers twitched, lips quivered, craving a cigarette already and yet determined to at least properly see to the new flowers he'd brought. He grabbed the vase, careful not to shatter it, and took it to the sink in the tiny bathroom. Psyche wandered up behind him, watching quietly for a moment before finally speaking up.

"So you must have brought those other flowers. I'm sorry I don't remember."

He paused in his busywork, but started again without a word.

"You must have known me for a very long time, huh. Daisies are my favorites next to chrysanthemums."

Yeah, he knew. Shinra said something once, maybe.

"Were we lovers?"

That got a reaction, the blonde spluttering and stuttering and (without his notice) snapping the vase he was washing clean in two. The eyes that peered up an him knowingly accompanied a smile that said he knew nothing, so it left him clueless in the end as always. The young man traced a freckle on his cheek that only stood out when he blushed, and the thought turned him red clear up to his ears, which in turn made the familiar stranger before him smile cheekily.

"We weren't. I know we weren't, but with the way you act it makes me wonder."

"I've only been here ten minutes," he muttered. Those eyes, red as usual and yet filled with a soft knowledge that was so incredibly different, peered up at him through brown-black lashes.

"I know. But I can see you keep telling yourself it'll be the last time."


Disclaimer: I hold no rights to the Durarara! franchise. This is here purely for all our amusement.

Author's Note: So... A DRRR oneshot. Yes. A little more restrained than my previous works; I feel like these two have a relationship that they even question themselves, and yet continue to act in spite of the questions they might have... or so I've thought. I would love to hear my readers' thoughts on the matter, if you'll spare the time to tell me. I hope you've enjoyed it!