A/N Nice to upload again! Thank you for reviews, crimsonfire3 and Love-girl2015, I loved to read them:) They're giving me the courage to write some more:)

Izaya is still unconscious, I don't think I'm going to let him stay like that for too long... Especially because Shizu-chan is not willing to write disclaimers for me...

Shizuo: I told you not to call me like that!

Me: Mattaku, Shizuo-kun, you're so stiff!

Shizuo: No, I am not. Just don't like that.

Me: ...

Me: ... *stare*

Me: ... *staaare*

Shizuo: What?

Me: *puppy eyes*

Shizuo: Oh, you... Fine, fine, got it! Disclaimer: She doesn't own us, or anything. Thank's God for that, really.

Me: Yay! :) I won!

Enjoy!

!R&R!

Chapter 2

Our little conversations

On the second week of Izaya's coma, they were finally able to go into the room. His injuries were healing surprisingly well, even his broken limbs were going to be able to move in just few days. Slowly, but constantly, he was again becoming his normal self. With one exception. Doctors were not able to wake him up. He was in deep coma, nobody could predict how long it would last.

Shizuo was still coming every night, much to his own surprise. But, today was the first day he was able to actually visit his ex-nemesis. He halted in front of the door, his hand shaking slightly above the handle. And then he went in, sitting next to unconscious Izaya, watching, always watching.

"You don't look good in your sleep, you know? That innocent look doesn't suit you at all. It annoys me, actually. You're far better as your usual self; I at least can throw anything I please on you, without feeling guilty." Shizuo said, almost unaware that he was talking out loud his thoughts. "I wonder why I keep coming here every night. This is probably one of your plans, ne, Izaya? Making me feel all weird, maybe even making me care... I don't know if that would work up for you, really. Shinra is calling me every few hours, babbling about how should I visit you more often; he doesn't know I'm visiting you even more than him, of course. Yesterday he was all alarmed because the doctors said they couldn't do anything more for you, and we just have to wait 'till you wake up by yourself... He's such a pain when he's worried, really." Shizuo halted, studying nonexistent expression on the other's face, "Oi, you really should wake up already. It seems that Ikebukuro is just too quiet without anyone to throw refrigerator at anymore." Shizuo sighed, finally realizing what was that he just said. He stood up and walked out of the room, feeling all stupid and weird, thinking how naturally he started to talk to his enemy as if to a friend.

"You still haven't woken up. I'm actually happy you can't hear me, because if you'd know how much trouble your coma costs me, you would probably stay like that forever, just for fun of seeing me in such a distress. Really, Shinra is definitely overprotective, but now it's not just him. Celty's all worried, too. I can even tell by the way her smoke is floating when she haven't got her helmet. I guess you'd be surprised how many friends you have now, when you're injured and unconscious. They probably don't even want you to know; maybe they're scared that you'd use them in some way if you'd know. But really, near your bed there are so many cards and presents. Do you want me to tell you what it is? Well, there are some manga books; I can see one titled "Kuroshitsuji", the person on the cover looks a little bit like you, with that devilish smirk. I guess the mangas are from Erika and Walker. And there are some cards "Be healthy soon" made from sushi leaflets – I bet they're from Simon. And also, of course, some other little gifts such as sweets (I don't really think you like them that much) or giftcards for ootoro in Russian Sushi (these I'm sure you'll be happy to use).

You haven't got any presents from me; I'm not that of empathic kind of a person. Be happy I'm wasting my precious time talking with you. Well, as I think of it, I quite like these conversations; I can at least speak my mind. And you're a good listener; probably because you don't listen at all, but somehow that isn't as annoying as talking with other people. Even so, I think you should wake up soon, pest. It's too quiet, and whole Ikebukuro is wondering what has happened to you."

"You're moving tomorrow. Celty send me a message that they're going to move you to another room, for it doesn't seem you're going to wake up soon. Your new number is 73. Another staircase up, holy shit, are they trying to make me angry? I'm becoming sick of this whole hospital, really. How anyone can get better in these sickly white walls? And the smell is annoying, too. It smells of medicine, and soap, and something chemical. I think the facility where you're meant to get better should smell of live, something fresh and connected with living things, not with science, don't you think? And that whiteness, even in your black hairs they put that freakin' white bandage. It doesn't suit you, at all." Shizuo looked at Izaya, wondering if anything he's been saying is in any way registered by unconscious man. He hoped not. But, as he started to think of Izaya's hairs, he was wondering if it wasn't a good idea to take that annoying cloth off of his head. He heard Shinra saying that Izaya's injuries weren't that bad anymore, most of them cured or in process of healing, so it probably wouldn't hurt to try. And, for some reason, Shizuo wanted to see that face crowned in dark, soft lock, without white disturbance. As he delicately freed his head from bandage, his fingers started to unconsciously caress that face, soft, porcelain skin and silken strands of hair. For the first time in his life, Shizuo was touching Izaya not to kill him, or hurt him, but as someone dear to him, with soft, almost unnoticeable caress. Not as an enemy, but a fellow human.

He sighed, clearing his mind and walking out of a room. There would be nothing good for him if he were to stop treating Izaya as an enemy. That should not be happening. And he didn't think it would change anything anyway. Even if he would start to like informant, Izaya would hate him as always from the very moment he'd open his eyes.

So he should just give up at the beginning. All he could do right now was watching his sleeping... arch-nemesis? enemy? or maybe... already someone else?

It was dark. As always. But somehow, someway, he could sense that it was almost the time for sun to rise. Not a sun he had known before that... state he was currently in, but rather... some light in general.

It was there, few times already, and strangely enough, in this place without time nor space, he was sure that the light was coming in some kind of routine, as if at the same hour.

He could sense the presence of somebody behind...- no, inside the light. That person was also talking. He couldn't really make out words from it, but the person's talk was always so long and soft and... heartwarming. He was always happy to hear it. He wanted to hear it. And every time he heard it, he wanted to join the conversation, to talk, to smile, to laugh with that person, that sun of his own dark and empty world. He wanted to go into the light.

Once, he was sure the light was particularly strong, he could feel something akin to wind on his face, and he craved for this feeling. He also, just for a short while, were able to see a flecks of gold, as if somebody was holding an amber up, and looking through it in the face of sun.

He wanted to see more of that amber, hear more of that sweet voice, echoing through his veins, calling, maybe... maybe even calling his name?

And, with that feelings of light, sun, sweetness and tenderness, he was ready to leave that dark world; he was ready to open his eyes, to fight with his inner mind for every single speck of light.

Orihara Izaya was ready to wake up.