"I...I'll need some time before I decide."
"I can schedule it for tomorrow, you have the whole day free."
Izaya flung himself on one of his very comfortable, very expensive sofas.
"I need to think this through."
Namie did not see the point of postponing like this and she was about to voice this when she noticed Izaya's listless attitude. There was behind it than his love for causing an effect that occasionally led him to wait for just the right moment to act with a splash. His sense of timing could be far too dramatic for Namie's analytic taste.
"Alright. Contact me when you make up your mind."
Izaya nodded. He wanted to be alone.
"Thanks for dropping by, Namie-san."
It was a polite but abstracted dismissal. It made Namie wonder. It was only when her steps had retreated into silence completely that he let out a stifled sob. He felt stranded in confusion, cast off from the orderly workings of humanity. Human identity was comprised in a united front of at least apparently uninterrupted strata – memory flowing in a continuum. Izaya could keenly feel that he had been jolted out of this normal setting.
Wrapping his arms around his knees, he closed his eyes and tried desperately to think. The loneliness he had craved just now was becoming an almost physical obstacle. And then it hit him that while there might no person to face his dilemma in quite the same way there was someone in a similar situation.
"Oh, hi there."
The newly released kitty was making an attempt at climbing to the sofa but with no success. Izaya picked it up.
"You just listen to what I say, you know. There's an hierarchy here and I'm most definitely at the apex of the pyramid since I am a human being. Why do I think you don't care one bit."
The only reply was nonchalant meowing.

[What do you want, Izaya?]
It was the reception he expected but it was still painful. Being judged by his former self's achievements often had this effect. Izaya jumped off the railing and landed gracefully, hands tucked into his jacket pockets so that even gravity seemed to bend to his will. Celty found it unnerving as always.
"Celty-san, I'm sorry I called you out on such a short notice but I needed to talk to you."
[Talk? About what?]
"I need to ask for your advice."
[Advice? You? I don't have time for your jokes]
Izaya registered briefly how even without eyes or even a face Celty's body language still conveyed her dislike and impatience. There was an almost nervous twitch in the way she typed away at the PDA.
"It sounds odd, doesn't it? But it's true. Thing is, I've lost my memory."
Celty stiffened immediately.
[What do you mean? Are you up to your tricks again?]
He smiled sadly.
"Unfortunately not. It is true."
Only now did Celty look at him properly. Izaya was such a nuisance that she got into the habit of ignoring him as much possible.
[What's with your face?]
"Ah, this? A kid hit me."
At this point Celty began to think if Izaya had not lost his mind once and for all. She always suspected he was too close to insanity as it was.
"You don't like talking to me so I'll get straight to the point. If you could choose your memories of the present and of the time you've spent with Shinra or those contained in your head, which would you pick? If you could only have one set of memories?"
Izaya's sudden intensity frightened her. She was used to his antics, to some extent, but there was a disturbing intensity here that was too novel to Celty.
[How do you expect me to answer that, and why would I tell you, of all people?]
Izaya stepped forward so fast that she barely even saw him move.
"You have no obligation to tell me anything. But I need some guidance and I cannot ask anyone else. Your answer can help me."
Celty hesitated.
[I can't answer that, I don't know myself. Did you really lose your memory?]
"You don't know...so even you don't know..."
Izaya half collapsed as he spun on his heels and nearly walked straight into the road in front of an incoming truck. It was Celty who pulled him back by the furry edge of his hood.
[What are you doing?]
Izaya got up from the pavement, very slowly. He dusted off his clothes as if all was well.
"I've bothered too much already. Sorry about that."
[You're not just lying, are you?]