The truth will set you free, but first it will make you miserable. –James A. Garfield

"I see you're finally awake."

The girl turned her attention to Izaya, looking at him with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. She opened her mouth, as if she was going to say something, but a hoarse, airy cough came out instead. At that moment she held her throat, trying to signal him that she could not speak. Izaya simply took another sip of coffee, walking over to his kitchen to get her a glass of water. When he finished, he turned around, stopping in his tracks when he saw her waiting right behind him for the water instead of staying on the couch. She took the glass from him carefully, and then completely drank the water in one swig, handing the now empty glass back to him for more. He poured her more water, in which she drank it all in one swig once again and handed it back to him.

"More?" he asked, raising a brow.

"Mhm!" she finally made a sound, her soft voice still hoarse.

He took the glass from her, placing it in the sink instead. Then he opened his cabinet and grabbed out a large bowl, filling it with water to the brim. Although he was suspecting that this girl saved his life, he decided that it wouldn't hurt to tease the girl just a little. But when he carefully handed the bowl to her, putting his coffee down, she took a sip, then starting tipping the bowl towards her mouth as she poured the entire bowl of water down her throat. She handed the bowl back to him with a mouth full of water, silently asking him for more. Izaya stared at her with one brow raised for a moment, then reluctantly poured more water into the bowl when she nodded. Once he carefully gave her the bowl again, she did the same thing and he began to wonder how much water this girl could consume before she finally thought she had enough. Although it was not until the tenth bowl of water that the girl breathed out a soft sigh as she handed the bowl to him.

Izaya looked at her tiredly, now entirely bored with what started out as a joke, "You still want more?"

"No." she shook her head in response.

Izaya sighed in relief as he threw the bowl into the sink, "Good."

Izaya picked up his coffee, peaking inside to see the contents of the cup, and then proceeded to pour the rest of the liquid down the sink. The coffee had turned cold from the amount of times that he had to refill the large bowl; they were standing there for most of an hour after all. He placed the empty cup in the sink, turning to her with a questioning look. From what he could see, she was small, the top of her head barely reaching his chin; it left him to wonder how such a tiny girl could consume water that looked like it was practically half of her body weight, and all at once. Izaya expected that the girl would be abnormal, or at least act abnormal, but not this sort of abnormal.

'Where can she even store all of that liquid…' he wondered, cocking his head as he stared at her up and down; this girl was more of a mystery than he first thought.

The girl cocked her head to the side, mimicking him, "What?"

He gave her his sickly sweet smile that would usually throw people off, saying in his innocent voice, "Nothing. I'm just wondering who you are…"

A bright smile suddenly flashed on the girl's face, chirping in a cheerful voice, "I'm Karen!"

"Karen…" Izaya trailed off, thinking she'd take the hint and say her last name, but she just stared at him in response, "Karen what?"

"What do you mean by 'what'?" she asked, a confused look displayed on her face.

"What's your last name?" he answered, wondering as to why she was acting as if she knew nothing about anything.

She thought for a moment before replying, "I don't have one, I guess."

He raised a brow, "You don't have one?"

"No. I guess not." She replied, then looked up at him again, "And who are you?"

'Who am I?' Izaya thought quizzically.

He was taken aback by her words at first, then began looking at her with a condescending look, figuring that she was taking him for a fool. The girl- Karen –had to have known him; she said his name just before he died, he recognized her soft voice. She's the one who cried for him, who told him that she wanted them to meet again as her tears dripped off of his face; there was no way she didn't know him. Unless he made some kind of mistake, although he really couldn't see how he could, Karen was definitely the girl from the alley, and she was definitely doing something. He just needed to figure out what. Although, whatever she was planning, it seemed like he was playing into her hands, he had to give her props for using his moment of weakness against him like that.

He laughed, then sent a dangerous smile towards her, telling her that he meant business, "Who am I? I think you know who I am."

"I really don't." she replied innocently.

"Then why did you say my name that night?" he asked, bending over to her level.

"What night?" she questioned, "I don't remember any night."

His eyes narrowed just a little, "You don't? Isn't that strange that you don't remember that night?"

"No, I mean I don't remember any night." She said to him, trying to get him to understand what she meant, "I don't remember anything."

"You don't remember anything?" he asked rhetorically, "Then how do you remember your name?"

"Well it's on this coat." She replied simply, pointing to the tiny stitched in name on the breast pocket.

Izaya glanced at the girl's pocket, seeing the vaguely visible stitching on it; it did in fact read the name 'Karen'. But that didn't prove anything of what had already said to him, he was certain that she was hiding something, although he didn't know why. She just looked at him innocently as he stared at her to read any signs of nervousness or panic; he found absolutely none. The girl looked so calm, a really convincing expression of innocence on her face. It didn't make any sense for her to just lose her memory so suddenly; but truthfully he wasn't sure. He had been unconscious for a week as it seemed, something could've happened to her in that time. But it didn't click for him; the question was why did she leave him there if she had been conscious at the time that he died. The other question was how did she bring him back to this world, or if she even did bring him back. For now, he couldn't tell, so he had no choice to keep his questions for a later time until he investigated this situation in detail.

He walked past her, his dangerous smile fading off of his face as he put on a mask of calmness. She simply followed him into the next room, and the next room, and the next room. Izaya first thought that the girl was going to just wander around his apartment, but she walked right behind him, following him like a lost puppy. It wasn't as if he could do anything though, no matter what room he went in, she would follow, and that didn't exclude bathrooms. He didn't want to scare her off, she was a vital part of his return, even though it did somewhat bother him that she was dead set on following him everywhere. Spinning on his heel, he turned to her, stopping her in her tracks.

"Why are you following me?" he asked tiredly, "I have some things to catch up on and I don't need you following me around."

"You haven't told me who you are yet." She replied, looking up at him as he towered over her.

He sighed, "I'm Orihara Izaya."

"And who are you to me?" she asked.

'I'd like to know that.' He thought, giving her a blank stare.

He mulled over what he should reply to her for a moment, before smirking in response, "I am your roommate."

"Roommate..." Karen said to herself, as if trying to store it in her memory.

"Yes, and if you don't mind, I have things to do now." Izaya replied, going to his computer and reviewing a few things he missed while he was gone.

The girl was a mystery indeed, everything about her was just strange; her tendencies were strange, her logic was strange, her physical state was strange, her background was strange. Everything was just so puzzling with her; the questions never seemed to stop. When one was answered, five more popped up in response, as if it was nearly impossible to solve the mystery that was her. She just seemed like a never ending pit of secrets at this point, and with no lead but her name with the abnormal clothes she was wearing; it was going to be difficult for even him to find information on this girl. But he'd find it somehow, some way, he always did; no matter what obstacle was placed within his path, he'd find a way to rid of it and continue on his way, it's what he was good at.

His eyes skimmed across the screen as he checked all of his sources, finding nothing useful for his current situation. But what he did find was that word about his death did spread quite quickly just as Namie had said. He figured that it must've been the group of men that attacked him, most likely bragging about how they managed to take down the ever slick Orihara Izaya. Little did they know that Izaya was in fact alive and kicking, not a scratch on him. That was of course due to the girl that was currently staying with him; how he does not know, but he will be finding out, no matter how much time it takes. Avenging his own death could come later, and dealing with the rumors could be dealt with later as well; his main priority was to solve his current puzzle that was Karen.

Taking his eyes off of the screen, he looked up, seeing that Karen wasn't in the room anymore. He almost got off of his seat, he didn't want her getting into any trouble, it would be troublesome for himself. But she soon strolled back into his sight, coming from the kitchen with the ever present look of curiosity on her face. At this point Izaya wondered if she had never discovered any of this, or forgot about all of it in what ever accident she had been in to make her lose her memory. He couldn't see well in his dying state, so observing her then was difficult, but from what he saw, she definitely was different. Although there was the possibility that he was delusional, he found that it made no difference; either way he did not know what happened to her or him.

Suddenly, he heard a loud yelp of surprise, his eyes quickly darting to the source; Karen. She was now covered in hot coffee across her stomach, and the pot the said coffee was once in was messily splayed across the floor in shatters. He pushed off his chair quickly, sending it rolling backwards slowly, as he went over to her. Grabbing her white coat, he unbuttoned it enough to see her stomach, ignoring the peaking sight of cleavage. His eyes widened in surprise at what he saw; she took no damage from the hot coffee that had just been poured on her less than a minute ago. No red mark, not even a look of pain across her face, just the look of surprise. It was like she didn't yelp because she got hurt, but that she was startled by the sudden contact with the liquid. There was now yet another thing to add to the list of strangeness from her, specifically the physical section.

Sighing he, grabbed her hand and led her to his bathroom, making sure that she avoided the shards of glass on the floor. He noted that he was going to have to keep a close eye on her, as in making sure that she didn't do anything like that again. Now he had a whole mess to deal with, not that he had to since he could just tell Namie to clean it up. He let her button down the rest of her coat, turning around to give her some privacy, although he doubted that she was uncomfortable since all she ever seemed to be was curious. After she was done, he took the coat from her, throwing it where he put his dirty clothes. Leaving the bathroom, he almost made it outside his bedroom, but then Karen stopped him in his tracks.

"What do I do now?" she asked, poking her head out of the bathroom.

"Take a shower." He answered, turning to walk back out.

But of course he was stopped once again, "And how do I do that?"

He raised an eye brow, "You don't know how to take a shower?"

She shook her head, "No."

Just then Izaya heard the sound of his front door opening, causing him to be relieved, "Just in time."