AN: Thank you for your support, everyone. We completed an outline of how this story will look when done; it looks like if we do this, it'll end up as twenty chapters (we cannot say for certain, but that is what it is approximating as). So we think we're going to try to whip on through this one, and then move on to one of our other works. Everything's updating slowly because we're working on everything, published and unpublished. Yes, we still have a bit to go. We think you'll enjoy this chapter. It's exclusively Mikado's point of view, but Masaomi will have his times next time. The title should say it all.

Kink Link (Without Spaces): http : / / drrrkink . livejournal . com / 3511 . html ? thread = 10785207 # t10785207

Disclaimer: We do not in any way own the characters/scenes/ … oh you know the drill I'm sure.

From Best Friend to Girlfriend

A Durarara! Fanfiction written by Kitty & Foxy

Chapter Eight: Izaya Knows

If there were one thing in the world that Mikado knew that continued to baffle him, it would have to be the times in which Masaomi was silent. He had gotten the silent treatment before at times, especially when they were younger and the then-not-blond child would have emotional extremities and pout over the silliest of things, but these kinds of silences, they still seemed so … unusual. As his real self, the silence had persisted for nearly a year, and now, as the "girl," he hadn't heard a thing in nearly a week! And both were making him anxious.

In a way, he understood it – silence meant that Masaomi might actually be thinking, which he knew was something he ought to encourage more – but he'd grown so used to the extroverted bumble of a blond that not hearing words ramble away made it incredibly awkward. He was used to being a listener, not a speaker, in crowd scenarios.

So, here he was, cleaning up his apartment and worrying about it. There's not much else to do, he thought, sighing. He finished his studies, there wasn't a whole lot going on in the world right now (Other than being stalked, he thought with a twitch) and, in boredom, he couldn't do anything else but focus on worrying and wondering. So he took to scrubbing his filthy apartment clean in an attempt to pass the time … it wasn't working too well.

He slopped the rag down on the counter, grumbling to himself when he had finished cleaning up his small kitchen area. I've cleaned the floor, kitchen, bathroom … I should take care of the laundry, he noted to himself, spying the heap of clothes that had been growing in the hamper. He walked over to the closet area, tossing the clothes neatly into the hamper and grabbing the washing soap in one hand before hesitating as he looked at a separate pile of clothes in that closet. Specifically, he saw his disguise clothes – the girl clothes. … I should clean them too …

The mere thought of cleaning those clothes unsettled him. For one, the tenants jointly shared the washing machine located downstairs, meaning he would have to carry them down and hope that no one else was doing laundry at the moment. Yes, there were only three other tenants in other rooms, and then the landlord took the first floor, but it still seemed risky.

They have to be cleaned, the sooner I get it done, the better. He decided. Knowing that if he lingered on it too long his thoughts would make his ability to do it worse, he quickly shoved the garments into his laundry hamper and buried them under some of his own clothes so they weren't directly on top. He took up the soap and decided to head out to the downstairs before he could psych himself out. He spied, once more, his spies-pretending-not-to-be-spies, and he frowned. They're becoming an even greater annoyance …

He quickly headed to the downstairs, stepping into the laundry room and shutting the door, still feeling quite nervous. He knew the spies wouldn't follow him in here, a card was needed to get inside this particular room, and the landlord could easily scare them off. It might be a stereotype that landlords look beastly, but in his case, it was all very true.

Thankfully, no one else was in the laundry room at that time, so he could easily shove his clothes inside the washer, stick in soap, and insert a few yen to get it started. Sighing, he left his hamper by the machine and decided to wander back upstairs for the time being. Finally, I was able to do something without worrying too much about it, he had to admit. Allowing himself a small smile, he went back over, deciding to sit down at his computer. All his chores were done, and so was his homework, so he decided to relax a little (even though he began to feel somewhat bored).

However, it wasn't too long before his phone buzzed. Curious, he took it out, flipping it open to see whom the message came from.

[Hello Mikan-chan! Sorry for not contacting you for so long – want to go out with me again?] After that message, some absurd, over elaborate smiley face took up half the cell phone's screen.

… Masaomi, I'm beginning to wonder if you're really worth the trouble. Mikado groaned, but he knew he'd been over this before. He just had no one else to blame at the moment. He slouched down at the table, staring at the phone for a moment, feeling his throat dry out as he stared at the smiley. Deciding enough was enough, he answered, hoping that no more ridiculous smileys come from the stupid flirt called a friend. [I am not sure. Are you going to behave?]

He should have just sucked the words back into his mouth. His phone buzzed, and the answer was rather … pathetic. [Of course I will~! You can even leash me and wave a bone, I'll beg for it!]

Mikado did not care for that particular image. [No.]

[Ok ok, I'm sorry. Still go out with me?]

Suddenly, this mental image seemed more pathetic than the previous dog scenario. What did you expect, Mikado? He doesn't have any luck with women, and you gave him an invitation. Of course, he hasn't found out that it's you yet … He hoped it would stay that way. [Why?] He did want to see Masaomi, but seeing him too often as his "girl" persona wasn't exactly what he wished.

[Why not? :)]

… Such a simple answer stumped him. But then he remembered a ploy that he guessed girls used (at least, he had determined this from his research). [I don't want my parents to become suspicious.]

Amazingly, there was no quick response from Masaomi. Hah, it worked. Maybe he'll leave the girl me alone for a while longer –

[Then tell them I'm a girl and that I'm part of a study group or something! Or I can come over and introduce myself!]

… He wouldn't. Mikado cursed. Masaomi, can't you just come and talk to the real me and Anri and everyone else before this drives me insane? I only cross-dressed in the first place to get away from my stalkers, not … ugh. He pinched his brow. [No. But if we go out soon, promise you'll let some more time pass before meeting up again? They will become suspicious if I go out too often like this!]

This time, the answer was prompt. [Great! Shall we meet tonight, in the park area near _?]

[Okay.] Mikado answered, shutting his phone and shoving it in his pocket, ignoring the next buzz. It's probably something corny or pathetic, he decided, knowing his friend all too well. Some more time passed, until he closed a tab on the internet and realization hit him as he looked at the clock. It was getting close to the time, and he needed to get the girl clothes … clothes …

"A-ah, I forgot the laundry!" Mikado cursed, hopping up so fast that he could easily challenge a hare in a footrace, running towards his door and tearing down the stairs to the room below. Fumbling for his card, he swiped to get in and opened the door –

Lo and behold, there was his landlord, apparently removing Mikado's finished laundry to do his own. And, of course, he was curiously staring at the … strange clothing in the batch.

Their eyes met, and Mikado began to stutter, racking his brains for an answer – any answer – and he couldn't find any. God damn it! Come up with an answer! But … he couldn't!

The old landlord began to laugh a little, tossing Mikado's laundry back into the hamper that he presumed (correctly) was Mikado's. "Got a girl friend, huh? A pretty close one at that."

"E-e-it's not l-li-!" Mikado began to protest, unable to find words. He knew he couldn't exactly come out and say that they were his clothes, so what exactly could he say or do?

"No worries, just keep in mind that your apartment's only for released for one, and to keep noise minimal. Otherwise, I might have to evict you!" The landlord laughed, resuming his own laundry.

Mikado dumbly stood there, deciding that perhaps this assumption (though now his reputation was tarnished) was the best one at the current time. He grudgingly took his laundry, quickly heading back upstairs and avoiding the gaze of his old landlord.

Damn it, Mikado cursed, his face beat red. Now the landlord thinks I have a g-g- he couldn't even think it properly! And worse yet, the landlord must think that he and the … friend were intimate. After all, why else would he be doing "her" laundry with his? This is getting worse and worse, he begrudgingly moaned to himself, wanting to hide in a corner of his room and wish it away. But he knew that would not solve anything. I'm going to have to end it soon before this gets a lot, lot more involved. After all, he moved to the city where things were always exciting, something was bound to happen. And although he enjoyed the ideas of thrills and fun and adventures, he did not wish to come out of this situation known as a transvestite, or anything that could be tacked onto it.

He shoved the laundry aside, sitting back down at his laptop and trying to wash away the embarrassment by distracting his mind with something else. Despite his peeves for neatness, he would not be folding the laundry that night.

*
It took a while for Mikado to regain his courage after the laundry incident (which he will never speak of again) to put on the disguise and head out in the direction of the park. His humiliation had made putting his makeup on difficult, and he had to redo it several times. He found it surprising that he even found any courage at all to go through with it, but he did, and he knew not to think too much about it or he would back out.

He headed to the park area Masaomi wanted to meet at, feeling slightly more confident in the female clothes at this point. After all, no one screamed "it's a dude!" yet and he'd been out how often? Though he would never directly admit it due to male ego, his subconscious knew that he could pull it off fairly well, and could continue to do so if he made it more convincing.

Still, he knew, he had issues. He still had the mannerisms of a guy, and if he forgot to change them, he could be quite obvious. So far, Masaomi had pretty much only seen "Mikan" during the later, night hours, or in the dark. For example, he still liked to sit with his legs slightly spread out, and he was fighting the urge to relax them back while waiting for the stupid friend of his to show up. Mikado quickly learned that opening his legs was an automatic "no" when wearing any type of skirt, even the longer ones like he wore now that covered his knees. If he spread, his real anatomy's "bump" could be spotted. So he always had to remember to clamp his legs shut.

Stuffing his bra was another problem. He didn't stuff them too largely (hell that would be too obviously fake), but each time he had to make sure they were always approximately the same size. He knew guys looked at girls there, he was a guy and heck even he looked there (not without a blush, though). It was hard not to, men were just wired to look. He also had to make sure no one could see "down" his shirt and see the stuffing or lack of real breasts, so the few clothes he did buy pretty much covered that top part entirely. He had troubles with other female mannerisms, and he was working on them even though he prayed he would never actually become an expert at any of it.

So here he waited, albeit nervously. He started to become lost in his thoughts in an attempt to distract himself, but was startled back to the real world when heavy hands clamped down on his shoulders.

He couldn't help the squeak of shock (grateful, though, that it came out with the higher pitch), sharply turning his head around to see – surprise – Masaomi. Grinning like a fool.

"Hi sweetheart!" He replied cheerily, laughing a little at 'her' surprise. Mikado frowned. Why the hell does he like to do these sorts of things? Even as his actual self, Masaomi was just too … touchy.

"Don't sneak up on me like that!" Mikado snapped, feigning his girl's voice. I still can't believe he doesn't recognize the real me, even this close up … it says a lot when your best friend can't tell these things.

"Sorry," he replied, climbing back off the earth mound and back onto the sidewalk, offering out his hand to pull 'Mikan' up. Mikado reluctantly accepted, knowing he had to keep up the act. "So where do you want to go?"

"I thought you were the one with all the ideas." Mikado sighed.

"Ideas, yes, but you'd likely slap me for them. Aaah, such a shame, and they're really good thoughts!"

I'd rather not know what's in your mind, Masaomi, because whatever it is is not happening.

"Want to walk around the city?" Masaomi grinned. "I can give you a grand tour, show you all the sites and places to be, especially the lovebird sites~"

Mikado's eyebrow twitched. It has been doing that a lot lately … "All but the love spots."

"Whatever you say, darling. We can start slowly!"

… Is it just me, or is he being more perverted than usual? Mikado inwardly groaned. His jokes were too forward at this point, and having been Masaomi's guy friend as well, he knew what it meant. The more perverted, the more desperate he was down there. And I have to put up with it. Great.

The two began walking, Mikado letting Masaomi take the lead and ramble on and on. He had already received Masaomi's tour, but firstly, he noticed that Masaomi was avoiding the streets and sites that he and other friends would often take, and secondly, this tour was more flirtatious than the last. But he knew the answers why to both of these.

"So how long have you been living here?" Masaomi inquired with a grin, actually taking a moment to interact rather than talk at him. "You seem to know your way around some."

Okay, how to do this …? "Oh, I've been living here for about two years," Mikado lied, but lied well. After all, Masaomi was too "love struck" to realize anything else. "My family moved here for business reasons."

"Aah, so you do know your way around~" Masaomi grinned.

Mikado decided to ask a question back before Masaomi could press for details on the "family," making Mikado make things up on the spot. "How about you? How long have you been here?"

"Many more years than you, but I come and go," he answered with a grin. "I'm more transient, I enjoy travelling and seeing new things –"

To both of their surprises, a new, but … familiar voice interrupted them. "Masaomi-kun! Fancy seeing you here!"

Mikado froze. Oh no … no no no no no … he didn't want to turn around. Masaomi, however, turned around with a growl. If Mikado had been a normal girl without any knowledge of his male self, he would have been surprised at this mood change, but he was too frightened to turn around.

"Orihara-san …" Masaomi spoke with a hint of hatred, although he seemed to be attempting to tame himself in front of 'her.'

"You still haven't told me why you quit, Masaomi-kun~! " The voice was closer behind them now … but he couldn't look too suspicious, so with a deep breath, he turned his head to look at least at Masaomi. He knew that Izaya was sneering. He didn't need to look to know that. Yes, Orihara Izaya did provide him with an exciting life, but this was something that he did not want the information broker to know.

"Go away, we're in the middle of something." Masaomi affirmed, grabbing Mikado's hand while he tried to hide his face, flushing furiously. Please don't recognize me …

"Hmm? Who's this?" Izaya ignored Masaomi's warnings, bending over to meet Mikado eye to eye. Same old Izaya, wearing that fur-lined coat and sticking his nose into other people's business. For a moment, they both just stood there frozen, although for different reasons, and then the worst thing that Mikado could imagine happening happened. Okay, second worse thing.

He started laughing. Not just his evil, or sarcastic laughter, actual laughter. Izaya pulled back, continuing to laugh as if something was the funniest thing he'd seen in a long, long time.

Masaomi was staring at him weirdly at first, then with anger. "What are you trying to do?" Mikado was at a loss of words, but Izaya's next words confirmed his fear.

"I don't have to do anything! You've already done it for me!" Izaya laughed heartily, grinning in Mikado's direction. "Perhaps better than I could've arranged!"

Mikado felt his heart plummet, his face beginning to burn as he began to stutter and look away. He knows … he knows he knows he knows …

Under the wig, the clothing, the slight make-up, he should've known it wouldn't be enough to fool everyone. Especially a crafty information broker.

Orihara Izaya had recognized him.

"Go away, Izaya!" Masaomi hissed, and pulled Mikado back, who still nervously glanced back at Izaya, who gave him a light wave and a chuckle. He couldn't think. His brain felt fuzzy, sick, disoriented, and humiliated. After everything, he'd finally been recognized. This – I can't …

After Masaomi pulled them both far away, and Izaya had not followed, Masaomi started explaining himself, although Mikado could barely hear it.

"I'm sorry, that guy's an asshole that I unfortunately have acquaintance with. Don't try talking or listening to him, he likes to pull cruel pranks." Masaomi glanced back worriedly. "Are you okay? Did he scare you that badly?"

"I …" Mikado swallowed. "I'm sorry, I'm going home." And before he could get an answer, Mikado turned on heel and started back towards his own apartment, feeling lost in his mind and caught in the headlights. Masaomi didn't follow him, he made sure of that.

He reached home in a whirlwind of thoughts, tore off the wig, and sat back against the wall, feeling a mild panic attack begin to take over. I was recognized … the disguise never was perfect, but … he began to whine, curling his head into his knees, wishing he could erase the last few hours entirely, but knew he couldn't. Something was bound to happen now. What had started as a harmless evasion tactic was beginning to take shape as an elaborate, dangerous hoax. And he had no doubt that Izaya was going to do everything he could to pull strings. He just hoped it wouldn't be outrageous. He hoped his reputation wouldn't become a cross-dressing gang leader. His thoughts too jumbled to be coherent and his nerves too shot to do anything else, all he could do now was mull over the last few hours and sink into utter disgrace.

*
Three days later, Mikado had ignored the text messages from Masaomi (most of them worried), trying to push the last events out of his mind. He did his best to occupy himself with school and avoid the landlord, Izaya, and anyone else that might remind him of his unfortunate mishaps.

However, that evening, something happened that he couldn't ignore. Gears were suddenly being put into motion, and he knew things were going to be far, far worse when he opened his apartment door to find a rather large package outside, addressed to him from who-knew-where. He would later discover that it was piled full of female clothing (his size, too), but for now, he picked up the envelope attached to it, taking out the small message.

His hand began to shake and his face flushed once more as his mind turned over in a mixture of emotions that he couldn't even describe. He could immediately guess whom the note had come from when he began to read it, and he knew his charade was merely the beginning of a grander scheme at this moment in time.

How amusing that you've completely fooled him! He even felt the need to threaten me!

These should help you in the long run. Don't worry, I won't tell!

Mikado now knew: the Devil had become involved.