Psyche tugged at Izaya's sleeve needily until the informant was completely inside and then bounded to the couch. Psyche had already torn aside all the cushions and jammed them back in unceremoniously. He'd managed to scatter anything that was in somewhat an order, leaving a worse war zone for Izaya to sift through.

"Iza..." he moaned, too choked up to finish Izaya's name. He sniffled just before wiping his nose on his sleeve. "Iza-chaaan, it's not here!"

He looked about the place with flushed, puffy cheeks before settling them on Delic. Pointing an accusing finger at the blond, he was ready to burst into another well deserved cry for the lost cause. "You help too!"

He fell to his knees and began crawling around for anything he might have missed on the floor, particularly under the couch and anything shoved against a wall.