(Shinra expected that reaction. Izaya's a rather sulky person, isn't he? When he doesn't get what he wants, when he doesn't get attention, at least around his only friend. He watches him from below, a strange transposition, as if Izaya's vantage point meant nothing, as if he's the one with the advantage still.

And then, just as he did in middle school, he presses the palms of his hands together in a pleading position, holding almost all of the same youthful brightness, though something a bit more openly selfish.)

Please come with me! There's something strange that happened, and there are all kinds of unexpected things that could happen to interest you. If I have to, I'll get persistent.