AUTHOR'S NOTE: Oh Hhaaaiiiiii. Well, I don't have much to say, other than thank you ask always. You guys are seriously amazing me with your comments and they mean so much more to me than I can really convey, other than updating my story for you!

"Uh... Look... Let me get dressed. I'll be there in an hour," Shizuo reluctantly sighs.

I can just imagine the look on his stupid face. Sleepy-eyed with a clenched jaw, exasperated, but understanding of our peculiar situation.

Only, this time, he's wrong. This isn't what he thinks.

"Actually... that isn't why I called," I quickly admit. "Perhaps I have another purpose, ne?"

A brief moment of silence is broken by a click and an exhale on the other end. He's getting his nicotine fix; probably just trying to keep his anger down.

"So... you don't need me to come over?" he checks warily, suspicions rising.

"No."

"Then why the hell are you calling me, Flea?"

Curiosity has laces his ire - which I already take responsibility for igniting.

"I couldn't sleep," the words are easier to confess than I had originally anticipated, taking a huge weight off my chest already. "I can't stop thinking."

"About...?"

"Why do you hate me so much, Shizu-chan?"

"WHAT? What the hell kinda question is that?" he shoots, losing his cool to incredulity. "You damn well know why! Why do you hate me?"

I must say... I am somewhat proud of myself for predicting the unpredictable. This is exactly the reaction I expected, though I do not know if it's the one I was hoping for, especially coming from such a wildly unpredictable creature. Still, to be fair, I answer.

"You know why as well. It's because you're simply not human enough to love. Too flawed to be valued. A thorn in my side."

"Don't act like I chose this life for myself," he warns me. "I hate you for making it worse than it already is."

"Ah. Maybe that's the reason now, sure," I agree, something unfamiliar hitting me as that last sentence reverberates in my skull. "But have you ever wondered what got us started? We have these stupid reasons. Reasons that came into creation when we were fifteen. Now that we've reached adulthood, those reasons have become nothing more than immature excuses."

"What are you getting at?"

"I hate you. Don't get me wrong. I really despise you," I am sure to rub it in as hard as I can. "But why? Ne? I feel like there's something else there. Something that lies deeper beneath the surface. I want to know what it is. Or maybe my head is more screwed up than usual..."

"How bad is your pain right now?"

"Intermediate."

"How many pills have you taken tonight?"

"Seven. Possibly eight," I say, trying to count them in my memory. "What does this have to do with hating each other?"

"Izaya, are you fucking high?"

His words startle me. Pulling the phone away from my ear, I glare at it for a moment, wishing he could see how he has offended me. "What makes you think that?"

"You're asking me some pretty weird, philosophical shit."

"Oh, that's a big word for you! Has Shizu-chan ever even been high?"

"No," he says dryly, "But I've been in and out of jail enough times to know what it looks like - thanks to you."

"Being heavily medicated for chronic pain doesn't make me a junky, idiot," I snap.

"I never called you a junky, Izaya. You don't think eight painkillers might be a few too many?"

"I am not high. And I mean every word I've said to you thus far."

"You're putting words in my mouth again," he grumbles.

"Listen," I sigh, giving up on a conversation that began with no sure direction, let alone an organized topic, "It's just a thought that's been bugging me. You seemed like the most logical person to discuss it with, even if your own sense of reasoning sucks and talking to you is comparable to speaking with a gorilla."

He grunts, solidifying my point. "Thanks."

"Any time," I scoff.

"So if you're done rambling, I'm gonna go back to sleep."

"Yeah... sorry to wake you..."

"I don't know what you were expecting at two in the morning."

I hang up without waiting for his goodbye, still feeling incredibly unsatisfied by our conversation. It is as if all of the thoughts I had vanished, leaving nothing but a stain on my mind. Whatever the source is has faded, while the feelings equipped remain.

If anything, I feel like I have to put this ten-thousand piece puzzle together all over again. With a time limit.

Nothing makes sense. Nothing - not even this headache - feels like it should.

I know I hate Heiwajima Shizuo. But my reasons aren't good enough.

"What are you doing here?" I glare at Namie from my place on the couch as she hangs her coat and purse on the rack by the door.

"I came to check on you," she says. "As much as I enjoy being paid for the simple fact of being your employee, there will soon come a day when you're out of the proper funds."

"Ah, then I'll stop paying you," I easily smirk.

"Very funny," she drones. "When do you expect to be well enough to at least pick up on managing your business?"

"Did you have to lie?" I shamelessly change the topic.

"Lie?" my assistant echoes.

Narrowing my gaze, I enjoy the way she shivers as my eyes meet hers. "You're not here to check on me. You're here about money."

"You are my money. I'm just wondering when I'll have to join Kishitani in underground practices at the rate my current employer is going - which is nothing but downhill, mind you."

"Something tells me Shinra would be opposed to the competition," I chuckle with a snide inflection simply meant to bother her. I'm pleased to find it effective.

"I'm sure I could clean a bullet wound better than he can," she says with artificial pride.

"Stop worrying so much, Namie-chan," I advise her, "You're one of two who I haven't let go. And by the time this is over, you're likely to be the only one."

Her interest is immediately sparked. "Who's the other?"

"Don't worry about it," I say.

Knowing that I'm not going to tell her that I've hired Shizuo, she drops the matter, gracefully moving into the next. "Hmm... so where are you accumulating the funds to pay for us?"

"Don't make yourself sound like some kind of prostitute," I tease, earning a sharp glare on her end. "I've agreed to keep working for the Awakusu-Kai when I can."

"Is Shiki-san still paying you well?"

"He's paying for the best."

"And he's aware of your health?"

Sitting up, I stare at her questioningly, wondering why she needs to know something like this. I can only imagine that her true concern is for money when it isn't focused on that creepy brother of hers.

"I'm missing the part where that's an important detail to our business relationship," I roll my eyes. "My frequent clients know that I've been away from work for medical issues. They don't need to know more than that. In the meantime, I'm doing enough small jobs to keep you paid and out of the way."

Ha!

She's so pretty when she's offended. Nevertheless, behind those chocolaty eyes, there's some sort of plot. This woman is just crazy enough for every move she makes to have an individual hidden motive.

And Shizuo thinks I'm the suspicious one.

"Now, if you're satisfied, you can leave," I wave toward the door, wishing to be alone with the slight pain that is teasing with my head.

It hasn't erupted into a migraine yet, but I don't want Namie to be here when it does. She always makes them so much worse.