Durarara!! fic: Lead Balloons

[psithurism]

Title: Lead Balloons
Authour: Miles
Fandom: Durarara!!
Characters: Kida, Mikado
Words: 840
Summary: Steampunk!AU, The future is no place to place your better days.
Notes: So, this was totally supposed to be steampunk, but it ended up being more cyberpunk, being more vaguely weird alternate universe-esk. Sorry! Excuse the epic fail of me trying to write anything that isn't a pretty drabble (though it is terribly short). Also, please excuse the fact that this has about zero plot *head desk* for hollyrose_hime  on the kidaxmikado  request meme


Kida's gold hand squeaks under the hazy sunlight, the gears warming to the day, the oil thickening heavily, and this is the first thing Mikado notices about his friend. (before even the hatted amber straw of his hair or the failings of a forced smile etched in his yellowed teeth)

"Masaomi," he says, without the courtesy of honorifics, because it's been years since peace and they are perhaps the only ones who know each others full names by heart anymore.

Kida returns the motion, his voice a resigned air of surprise and whispered doubts, the mechanical hand tensing in time with his heart. He doesn't bother to follow the nostalgic name with his mind's question of eternal denial, for that would insult them both, so he says nothing more.

“It's been a long time.” Mikado states, a soft nervous blush on his cheeks and a steady quiver to his form.

(Mikado's biometrics are an internal labyrinth of lucent crystal gears and invisible diamond springs, nothing flashy like Kida's, but the mere fact that his blood runs as colourless motor oil shows he is no more human.)

“Why did you hack our mainframe?” Kida says, still shocked (angry, scared, relentless) but always to the point.

And Mikado could answer that question truthfully, because he honestly hadn't wanted his friend to know the truth until the last possible time piece turn, but instead he lies and his glassy spine straightens into a mockery of height.

“Kida Masaomi, age: twenty-three years old, height: 173 centimeters, occupation: current leader of the Turbans,” Mikado pauses for breath, the information cycle of his cybernetic mind slowing for a brief moment before allowing the young man to continue,”a group of terrorists currently trying monopolize the flow of criminal activity via the destruction of all opposition.”

Mikado's smiles. “It's all quite noble, really.”

It is then that Kida breaks and breaks from his stupor, because to hear his plan as a set of deadpan nullifications makes it seem like a child's fantasy play, a medieval journey for dragons, princess dolls, and darkness through which to escape the world.

“What would you know? It was all for you, so you wouldn't get dragged into this mess!”

The 'Why?' remains unspoken and before Mikado is even able to respond, Kida's warm, metal fingers are etching pain into his throat and he chokes and gasps for breath.

It is not (has never been) Kida's intention to hurt the other boy. This is just a harsh warning, because Kida is blunt and his Mikado was clueless 'til the end.

(Mikado has an implant in his brain which controls the flow of his body's oxygen, such that it can bypass the mouth, the lungs, and travel straight to his mind and heart. Mikado designed it because he was a hacker before Kida and will always be one even after. Kida does not know this, nor will he ever if it is up to Mikado, because with Kida he can be innocent and it's the only safe haven he has left. )

(This is why he lies, but right now, it is not enough and his innocence will win him neither the battle nor the war)

So, Mikado lifts up a steady hand, lays it on Kida's and thinks, thinks hard enough to melt ice, freeze the sun, and the world crumbles.

Kida feels tendrils of electricity travel up his arm, knows what is happening because he has been hacked before, but there is a light shock as he feels the metal fixing (being mended and made new) before it shatters into all of its pieces.

And he falls.

Mikado leans over him, a look of depressed resignation painted on his too young visage.

(No worry, because he knows he has done the job right, he has always been the best, and no pity, because Kida is so far above that.)

“Kida Masaomi,” he says again and the smile he now wears doesn't turn him beautiful, merely makes him seem like a child in a war zone. “I am addressing you as the leader Dollars, and am asking for your assistance in the coming battle.”

His next line is hopeful and could so easily be about their childish games of floating soccer and invisible freeze tag that Kida wonders if he isn't fifteen again, girl crazy and in love with the world, until reality sets in and he simply feels so very old.

“After all, there's nothing we can't accomplish together, is there, Kida-kun?”

(Dollars are an old currency from a country that imitated Babel and fell, as it did, only thousands of years later. The group that calls itself by that name is filled with hackers who can not fly in the sky through means of anything but dreams. This does not stop Mikado, however, from being so very knowledgeable of the Sun.)

And as Kida stares up through the zeppelin sky, his infinite laughter is not a yes, but it comes close enough.