Mikado was a bit shocked to see a figure standing up near his room in the run down apartment. Unexpected visitors had never left a good taste in his mouth, not in this town. And who exactly would bother standing outside his place at seven o'clock on a Wednesday evening?

But upon closer inspection, as he had slowed to a furtive crawl on the street below, he was quite possibly even more shocked to see that his visitor was Masaomi Kida. He could recognize that seamlessly bleached hair and somewhat unkempt school uniform of his anywhere.

He tried to keep his footsteps light, but the stairs up to his room were old and more than a bit prone to creaking. Masaomi whirled around to look at him, his face whimsical; eyes wide, smile huge and playful.

"Masaomi," Mikado chuckled his name. He wasn't particularly bothered by his best friend's presence, but it was very unlike him to show up at his place unannounced. He figured there had to be a reason—he just hoped it wasn't urgent. "What're you doing here?"

Masaomi's face contorted into a betrayed frown, and he crossed his arms in a huff. "What? So now I'm not allowed to come and visit my best friend in the whole world unless I have some special reason?" He sounded heartbroken. "That's fine. I get it."

Mikado gave him an exasperated sigh in response, a smile on his face. "You know that's not what I meant," he reasoned. They were indeed each other's best friends; Mikado knew that Masaomi usually gave him an excuse whenever he asked for one, even if it was a blatant lie. If he hadn't even bothered to do that much, then it was best to just leave the subject be. "I'm happy to have you anytime, and you know that."

Masaomi smiled so brightly at him that he was nearly blinded by it.

Blinking, the dark-haired boy rummaged through his bag for his keys. "Coming in?"

There was a moment's pause. "No, actually," Masaomi said. Mikado looked up at him. "That's alright. I just wanted to see you."

But we just saw each other at school, he thought, taken aback by Masaomi's sudden change of heart. He hoped his face didn't betray his confusion. "Oh," he said simply. "Well-are you sure? I could make us some tea or something, if you want."

He laughed. "Oh, nah. I've got a bunch of cute chicks waiting for me! Can't keep me all to yourself, as much as you might want to~." He winked.

Mikado didn't allow his smile to falter. That was the same excuse he had used this afternoon. He wasn't a fool; he had noticed something strange was going on with Masaomi recently. More and more frequently he would leave Mikado and Anri by themselves after school, with or without explaining himself. Sometimes he looked a lot less chipper than he usually did. And he was constantly getting texts and calls on his cell phone. "I don't think making them wait is gonna go over that well."

"Right?" he agreed enthusiastically, nodding his head. "Luckily for them, I am one hell of a catch. So I'm off! See ya later!" he grinned, practically skipping down the stairs and onto the street below them.

Mikado watched him walk a ways before he turned to open the door, his smile fading. He didn't like it. He had hoped, when he had first noticed Masaomi's antics, that he would work through whatever it was himself and go back to being regular old Masaomi again. But that hadn't happened yet; even Anri had confronted Mikado about it, worrying about their mutual friend. He had laughed and brushed it off in an attempt to reassure her. Maybe even reassure himself, too.

Dropping his bag near the door as he shut it, he sighed. He wanted to ask. As his best friend, he felt he had every right to ask. But the more he thought about it, he realized it wasn't fair of him to be so demanding of Masaomi when Mikado himself had secrets he was hiding. Things that he couldn't share. He only wanted to help, and he was prepared to use anything and everything in his power, including the Dollars, to do so, but that was selfish. If it was space Masaomi needed, then Mikado would give him that space.

He sat down at his computer, absently tapping away at his keyboard. It didn't add up when he considered that Masaomi had come here today, though, of his own accord. It was incredibly out of character for him. And saying something like that...

"I just wanted to see you."

Mikado fell back onto the floor, eyes squeezed closed. That's not playing fair, you know.

"Huh?"

Mikado stood there, Anri right beside him. They both had dumbfounded looks on their faces.

They had just been on their way out of the school, chatting a bit about mundane things as they walked. Mostly about Masaomi's unexplained absence from school. As Anri fretted about him being sick, Mikado was uneasy inside. Only yesterday evening had he seen Masaomi, and he had seemed perfectly fine then. Had something happened to him? Something bad?

Neither of them had expected to see the subject of their conversation standing out in front of the school, just past the gates of Raira Academy, grinning at them. They had stopped dead in their tracks.

Mikado was the first to recover. "Masaomi?" he asked, rather lamely—of course it was Masaomi.

"The one and only!" The boy in front of them was awfully chipper. He certainly didn't sound sick.

"What are you doing here?" Anri asked next, cocking her head a bit to the side. Mikado wanted to know the answer to that too. Why on Earth bother coming to school after it's already ended?

"I'm glad you asked, Anri!" He clasped his hands together. "I felt pretty bad about ditching school today and leaving you two all by your lonesomes. Figured I'd come and apologize. Sorry."

"Oh, it's alright!" Anri hastily replied, obviously a bit taken aback by the needless gesture.

Why'd you even bother skipping, then? Mikado was very tempted to ask. But he held his tongue. "You should be apologizing to the teachers, not us," he laughed. He was a bit surprised at how natural it sounded.

"Sounds like you didn't miss me at all, Mikado! How cold." He pursed his lips. "Anyway, I should be going now. Got some errands to run, y'know. I just wanted to see you guys!" He grinned, shooting Anri one of those boyish gazes he saved for the girls he attempted to woo. "I can't let my lovely Anri-chan forget her subconscious love for this pretty face of mine!"

Anri blushed a bit beside Mikado. Mikado stopped laughing.

Masaomi went to shoot him a similar look, but seemed to hesitate upon seeing the dark-haired boy's face. "Well, see you guys tomorrow! For sure this time!"

As he scampered off, the bespectacled girl regained her composure. "How odd..." she mused aloud; the strangeness of the situation wasn't lost on her. She turned to look at Mikado politely, to ask him a question, but stopped to take in the expression he still wore. "Mikado-kun?" she asked.

Mikado was pensive. There was that phrase again. I just wanted to see you guys. His knuckles were white. He had been...happy to hear him say that last night, but now? Here? Mikado knew now that it was just another one of his excuses, just another one of his lies.

He hated that.

"Um, Mikado-kun?" She was waving a hand in front of his gaze now.

He snapped to attention, putting on a sheepish smile. "Oh! Sorry, Sonohara-san. Shall we get going too?" He wanted to go home.

"Ah, sure." She followed along behind him.

The two of them were quiet. They always were, without Masaomi's presence. He was talkative enough to carry entire conversations all by himself. One of them would manage to get a word of two in sometimes, and that would only serve to set him off all over again. But today they were lost in their own thoughts, thinking about the same thing.

"Mikado-kun," Anri said suddenly as they walked.

"Yes?"

"Is there...well, there isn't something going on between you two, right? Between you and Masaomi-kun?"

Mikado was a bit shocked by that. "What? Oh, no—" There wasn't. And that was the crux of the problem. "Of course not!" he waved her words off with a hand. That wasn't going to be enough to ease her suspicions, though. "We just haven't been spending as much time together lately, I guess. He seems pretty...busy lately."

Anri looked at him for a moment more before she refocused her gaze on the road ahead of them. "That's true," she said at length. "I just...you two are really good friends. I don't want you two to get distant...or anything."

Mikado blinked. He remembered that something very similar had happened between her and Mika Harima not too long ago. Was that why she was worried?

Anri looked back at him as he started to laugh. "We've been friends since we were little kids, you know. And even when he moved away, we talked almost every day over the internet. If we could handle all of that, I don't think this will be able to end our friendship so easily."

His words seemed to put her worries at bay, if only a little bit. She smiled. "I guess you're right," she nodded.

Mikado smlied in return. He didn't doubt his own words. It would be extremely helpful if Masaomi just came out and talked about what was going on, though. That way he wouldn't waste so much time worrying about it.

He hardly took note when it came time for Anri to part ways with him. A quick smile, a short wave, and then he was back to thinking. About one thing in particular. Masaomi, Masaomi, Masaomi. For someone doing a whole lot of hiding, he definitely wasn't being very discreet about it. That was what Mikado found the strangest—it was like he was going out of his way to be as conspicuous as possible.

The dark-haired boy visibly shifted as he walked along, a sudden realization hitting him. Maybe that was what he was after? Maybe this was his way of asking for help—in a convoluted, roundabout, frustratingly backwards way.

He really didn't want to think about the circumstances that could possibly call for such measures, but he could only assume the situation was pretty dire.

Curling his hands into determined fists, his gait lengthened as he walked the rest of the way home. He couldn't wait any longer—he had to make the first move. That way he could help Masaomi out of whatever hot water he'd managed to land himself in.

...or, so he had told himself. Once Mikado had made his way home, changed into more comfortable clothes and begun drawing up a plan, he realized that there was one insurmountable problem he faced.

He had no idea where Masaomi lived.

On his very first day in Ikebukuro, Masaomi had picked him up from the station and given him an abridged tour before dropping him off at his new place. He had come the following day to help him unpack as well, and he had been by a few times since then, but Mikado had never been to Masaomi's home. He'd never even thought to ask much about it.

He ransacked his brain, trying to recall some distant memory of Masaomi telling him about his new place way back when he had first moved, but if he had told him in the past he could no longer recall it. Cursing under his breath, Mikado laid his head on his desk forlornly. He guessed that perhaps he could use the Dollars to secure his friend's address...but he shouldn't have to go through such lengths to see his best friend!

He turned his head slightly to look at the bright red phone sitting next to him. He could always text him and ask or something, but that would be way too obvious. Masaomi would deflect the question, with some talk like, "Ooh, Mikado, we're moving a little fast, aren't we? My parents are home, you know!" and Mikado would take five minutes to muster up a reply after a suggestive text like that because it was just so incredibly Masaomi. He didn't have time to waste on that.

During the downtime he began to doubt himself. What if Masaomi was just being...Masaomi about all this? And he wasn't really asking for help, and Mikado was doing all this worrying for nothing. What if Mikado was just reading too much into it, just like he always managed to do with everything Masaomi did and said around him?

It wasn't as if Mikado could help it. Masaomi was, without a doubt, the most important person in his life at present. He had already known the loneliness of a Masaomi-less life, and he was not keen on getting to know it again. He acknowledged, however, that it could happen again at any moment, because life was unpredictable like that. So he did everything in his power to spend as much time with him as possible—even accompanying him as he hit on girls despite the uneasy feeling that always managed to stir deep inside him when he did.

Sighing, he sat up and pushed himself to his feet. Sitting inside his stuffy room wasn't doing his head any favors. He would go outside and get some fresh air while he tried to construct an alternate plan.

The powers that be must have been smiling upon Mikado that evening, for who else would he find standing at the foot of the stairs to his room than the very same Masaomi he's spent the past hour deliberating about. He was wearing an outfit he hadn't seen in a while; a white hoodie, dark pants, and a yellow scarf. Masaomi had already been staring in his direction, apparently, for when Mikado focused his gaze on him he saw his expression quite clearly—surprise, a momentary flash of good-natured greeting interrupted by realization, and then horror.

Everything seemed to click together in that instant they locked eyes.

Mikado's mind was racing with so many different thoughts, not the least of which concerning that yellow scarf of his, but before he could even think about formulating a sentence of any sort, Masaomi was turning away, his legs poised to bolt.

Mikado could not lose this chance.

He was running before could even move to shut the door behind him. He watched his best friend speed away from him as he launched himself down the stairs haphazardly. His bare feet collided with the asphalt harshly, but nothing could be further from his mind at the moment. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, calling out a desperate "Masaomi!" as he went. This could be the last time he ever saw him, for all he knew.

The blonde's back got closer and closer. Masaomi had had a slight head start on him, and Mikado had never been the fastest runner in the world, but he willed his legs to work in overdrive and it paid off—Mikado managed to grab a handful of Masaomi's hoodie in his hand, yanking the boy backwards slightly. They nearly fell over one another as they slowed clumsily to a stop, heaving and panting at the side of the road.

Mikado held tight to the hold he had on Masaomi's jacket—he didn't dare let go. The boy was awfully still under his grip, facing away from him.

"Masaomi," he said again, hoping he'd respond somehow. Please let me in.

His friend was silent for a long time. Mikado couldn't even imagine the expression he was making at this point—everything was just too confusing. "Mikado," he relented, mirroring Mikado's tone of voice. "I didn't want you to see me like this."

"You probably shouldn't have been standing right outside my flat, then." He had spoken without thinking.

Internally berating himself for it, he tried to come up with something to ease the obvious tension between them, but Masaomi interrupted him with a laugh. It wasn't like any of the laughs he had ever heard from him before; it was unfeeling and mirthless. Mikado hated it. "You're probably right."

He was at a loss—how did he deal with a Masaomi like this? "Masao—"

"I should be going," he said at length, already pulling away from him.

That was absolutely not happening. "No! I—" Mikado's grip tightened. "Look at me."

Masaomi made a move to do so, turning halfway towards him, but seemed to change his mind halfway through the action and simply pulled away from him more forcefully. "I have to go."

"Running away isn't going to solve anything!" He was yelling now, but he had stopped caring. Masaomi visibly flinched at his words. "I—I just want to talk, Masaomi. I'm worried. About you. About what's going on with you. I—" His thoughts were frazzled and he was rambling. "Look at me."

He hated it. He hated Masaomi's silence, he hated the dim street lights illuminating them, he hated the way his voice sounded like he was about to cry, he hated being so normal and subpar and utterly useless.

"I don't want to talk about this," he whispered, so low that Mikado could barely hear him. "It's too complicated."

"I want to hear all of it," The dark-haired boy retorted, and he had never been more sincere in his life. "Tell me all about it."

"I can't."

"I just want to help."

"You can't."

He had expected the words to come, but they still stung. "You don't know that," he whispered in response.

Masaomi was silent. Mikado closed his eyes, resigned to his failure. He felt Masaomi shift out of his grip, and the boy was prepared to let him go this time, but he felt a hand on his shoulder. When he lifted his eyelids, he saw Masaomi staring back at him, as grave as he had ever seen him. "I don't want you involved in this," he said evenly, calmly, and Mikado knew without a doubt that he was not lying.

"I think it's a little late for that now," Mikado said in a tone that called for a laugh, though no one was being humorous.

Masaomi wasn't smiling. "This isn't—it's not a game, Mikado," he went on, his voice taking on a steely edge. "This is—fuck, it's serious shit, okay?"

The curses emphasized his point. "I could have guessed," the shorter boy replied, nodding at the yellow scarf that Masaomi donned. "Don't suppose that's a coincidence."

"It isn't," Masaomi grunted, and he cursed again. "Didja know, Mikado? I'm not just a member of the Yellow Scarves. I'm the goddamn leader."

That was not what he'd expected. Mikado was sure he had heard that wrong. "...sorry?" he said after a moment. "I'm not getting the joke."

"Does it look like I'm in any position to be joking?"

He supposed he didn't. Mikado just stared. "Oh," he said lamely. "Oh, god."

"And I'm trying to stop my guys from launching an all-out attack on the Dollars and their leader," he sighed. He sounded very tired.

"Oh, god."

"So, I kind of have to get going. Because if I'm even a little late, my right hand man is going to use it to his advantage. The last thing we need to do right now is pick a fight with the fucking Dollars."

Masaomi sounded just as frazzled as Mikado felt, and somehow he was relieved. "That does sound like a pretty big problem."

"Right?"

Mikado wanted to laugh. He also wanted to cry. "I think I might be able to help."

Masaomi looked like he was about to sigh at him again, so Mikado just grabbed his arm and pulled him towards him, in the direction of his home. "Come with me."

"Mikado!" Masaomi was clearly not keen on the idea, but he allowed himself to be pulled along anyway. "I appreciate the sentiment, but this is my problem, not yours—"

"That's a big problem of yours, you know?" Mikado interrupted him. "You won't let anyone help you. But I don't have any real right to say that. I'm partially to blame here, too." Masaomi made a sound of confusion behind him. "Man. This lack of communication could have torn us apart."

"What are you getting at, Mikado?"

"I...I only kept it a secret because I thought nothing good would come of it—"

"Mikado," Masaomi cut him off, and Mikado flinched. His name had sounded like a command all on its own.

"I'm the leader."

Masaomi stopped.

"—Founder. Not the leader. The Dollars don't have anything like that. One of the founders. It wasn't just me. But I—" he stopped in his tracks when he turned and saw the blonde's face.

"This isn't the time for jokes." Masaomi's voice sounded hoarse.

"I can show you," Mikado offered. "I can—"

"Fuck," he hissed.

Mikado couldn't read the situation. He had no idea what could possibly be running through his head, but he knew that the Dollars surely looked like the bad guys in Masaomi's mind.

"I'm sorry." Mikado's voice sounded small.

Masaomi had dropped into a squatting position on the ground, his hands cradling his face. He repeated himself.

Perhaps it would have been better if he had kept the information to himself. But Masaomi had put himself on the spot by outing himself as the leader of the Yellow Scarves and Mikado figured that it wasn't fair to keep any more secrets. Even if it meant that his best friend might end up hating him.

"I'm sorry."

"This is fucked up." His voice was muffled.

Mikado could only grimace. "Yeah." It seemed like the fate of a lot of people rested in their hands. It made him a little sick. The silence thick between them didn't help.

"They want to mess you up, Mikado." Masaomi murmured, hands falling away from his face. "You and the Dollars. They're so angry."

They. Mikado had never felt so relieved in his life. The sound of Masaomi separating himself from the will of his gang for his sake—that was all he needed to hear right now. Slowly he approached Masaomi and bent his knees, mirroring the blonde's position. "There's no way to calm them down, huh?"

He scoffed. "No chance. The only way I managed to hold them off this long was by telling them I was trying to look into who the Dollars' leader was."

Mikado looked at him rather thoughtfully. "So…what are you going to do now that you know?"

Masaomi's face was beginning to regain some of its usual pallor and countenance. He met Mikado's eyes with his own, the hazel dully illuminated by the street lamps above them, and pulled the corners of his mouth up into a half-hearted smile. "I have no idea."

Mikado smiled back. He knew he should probably be at least somewhat concerned, seeing as how the whole of the Yellow Scarves wanted his head on a silver platter, but couldn't focus on anything else. Masaomi had not left him—he had stayed, and there were no more secrets. "We can think of something." Together. "I'm sure of it."

His blonde friend laughed. "You seem awfully calm about all this, Mikado," he chided him, only half serious.

"I'm sorry, it's just…it's funny, isn't it?" Mikado let his gaze fall down to the yellow scarf wrapped around Masaomi's neck. "We spent so much time worrying about all this when the source of our problems were each other." He didn't want to think about what might have happened if Mikado had let Masaomi go earlier.

"Funny isn't exactly the word I would use, but I know what you mean." He chuckled, checking his phone absently. "Shit," he sighed. "I'm late."

"Sorry," Mikado apologized again. That was the third time that night that he'd done it. "You can tell them anything you need to." He would be ready for them—he had the Dollars on his side, after all.

Masaomi shook his head. "I'll just try and buy us a little more time," he decided. "We definitely need to talk some more about all this. So…don't do anything reckless, okay?"

Mikado went to punch his shoulder. "That's what I should be saying to you!" he cried.

The dark-haired boy pondered on whether or not to turn the punch into an impromptu hug on the way to Masaomi's shoulder—for camaraderie's sake, of course—but ultimately decided against it. He didn't want to push his luck like that at the moment. It surprised him, then, that it was Masaomi who took the opportunity, leaning forward and pulling him close. They were both still squatting—their knees knocked together and they had to strain themselves to make contact, but the act spoke volumes. They were the same as they had ever been.

"I'll see you at school tomorrow," Masaomi said as they parted. He stood up, and held a hand down to help his friend do the same.

Mikado nodded. "Yeah. See you." It was a promise.

He watched Masaomi jog away, phone once again in his hand, and put his hands in his pockets. A sudden wave of exhaustion hit him, and he wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of his futon as he went to rest for the night. He yawned, and turned to walk the rest of the way home.

They'd fix this mess of theirs somehow. And they'd do it together.

—end—

A/N: I had to delete my previous contribution to the Durarara! archive because it was too contrived and embarrassing. This probably isn't a whole lot better, but I had to get this off my chest! tfw you set out to write a kiss scene and fail to do even that. lmao. Thank you for reading!