Day 52: Sun Room
If she were honest, Yukari would have said she had no idea what a "sun room" was supposed to entail. She didn't ask, though, because by the time she had finished asking all the more important questions (which still weren't getting answered in any way that made sense), Yukari was getting rather fed up with all the nonsense her accompanying nurse was
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At the moment, he wasn't thinking about that, about the past, about Shinra, about anything. Time had passed and the drugs had weakened and fury surged, the attack on Celty unforgivable (luckily, this thought did not strike: is that even her head?) -- until her hand and the new words did, handily, distract him.
Too bad the question was an annoying one. It was confusing, which meant it was annoying. Shizuo had not had much time or ability to think about it over the day, not that thinking about it helped. But, it had been a day of firsts, and it continued in that vein. Rather than fume at the question, Shizuo shrugged. He shrugged, moving a hand to his neck and scratching. His temper had been different all day, even factoring the drugs. If Shizuo were the type to think about it--
--but, he wasn't.
"I don't know," he confessed, frowning. "I woke up in a weird room. Went to sleep in Ikebukuro. This--"
Shizuo hesitated. The words he was about to say were unnatural, wrong, could not possibly exist in his vocabulary strung together in this way, in any way that made sense. But, through the drugs, the suspicion had remained, had latched onto the underside of his tongue, had stuck like a stench, one that wouldn't disperse until he acknowledged it.
Because it was Celty, he could: "...isn't Izaya, is it?"
"That bastard," he added, a half-hearted but necessary, instinctive afterthought. After saying something like that.
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