Two Durarara!! drabbles
Authour: Miles/ lifelink
Characters: Kida, Mikado
Ratings: PG
Authour's Noes: Two drabbles originally written for the kidaxmikado request meme
Title: Pixilated Mutations
Word Count: 237
Summary: Your words in my memory / are like Music to me. Prompt: Snow Patrol's "Set Fire to the Third Bar"
It's during the times when Kida is bloodless, or so pale that he must be under the spotlight of notoriety, that he thinks of Mikado.
He tends to think of him at other times too, when staring at a video game or the poster of a movie Mikado might like, but at those times his thoughts turn to key strokes and pixilated mutations of kanji icons, vague shadows of a few years noncontact. It's only when he is at his worst, however, that he remembers a faint voice, young and afraid and oh so very brave.
Mikado's voice would be be different now, as is his own, but perhaps (no, not perhaps, must, because that is something Kida won't let change even if it breaks him) it still contains that same Light.
(pale, angel white shimmers, because he can no longer think in bright sunshine yellow)
This is Kida's salve, an ill-deserved acquaintance with innocence that continues his movement unsettlingly backwards into darkness as much as it bids his mind to stay.
He knows Mikado won't agree, would find himself appalled at the thought of Kida using him this way (No, sweet, sweet Mikado would accept him as anything and this is the problem, because when Mikado accepts him he will be dirty and this will never be Kida's promissory wish.)
That is why he doesn't tell Mikado his voice is the only thing keeping him going.
Title: Go, Going, Gone
Word Count: 279
Summary: I see us all as something / but nothing like we truly are. Prompt: boys being boys
Kida grabs Mikado by the sweater and pulls.
Down a ramp, over a crossway, through a city crowd, letting out a boisterous laugh all the while.
With Mikado here he is flying, rapid mouth movements, harsh swings of bony arms, a distant flicker to the world.
Mikado follows, his feet sore and his mind overflowing, catching glimpses of the fading day from Kida's censored tour-guide motions.
This Kida is so real, as is this Mikado, and perhaps they feel like they've finally found each other again when they never knew they had been lost (though they were always the losers)
And then Kida turns into a whisper, becomes a croak, and Mikado doesn't see anything different with the neighborhood, but perhaps Kida-kun does.
And he would ask, but then Kida is normal again and his jokes are cool to the overly warm air of Ikebukuro's flesh, so Mikado forgets and forgets not to laugh, and they're on their way again.
Kida turns back, a half glimpse, and there is a blood stain on the wall, a younger, yellow boy with his right hand fingers shaped into a gun and his left hand curling around a real one such that Kida can almost here the sonic boom. And then it is gone, so Kida remembers and remembers Mikado, normalcy and all, who is laughing at his jokes, pressing eternally forward.
Kida knocks on Mikado's head lightly with his fist and starts a blushing one-sided tirade on the status of the town girls, continuing in time to the indelible tattoo of their feet on concrete until Mikado's thoughts turn him red and Kida stops thinking at all.
And so they go.