Chapter Text
“Did he leave?” Mikado asked when Izaya returned. The taller male paused to close the door.
“Yes.”
“Oh.” Mikado said shortly,
“I’m curious why you’re asking Mikado. You didn’t think he would stick around did you? With how angry he seemed, I’m surprised he stayed as long as he did.” Izaya said, tone innocuous despite the cruelty in his words. Mikado didn’t look up from his phone. Izaya was fishing for a reaction, and frankly the younger male was disinterested in giving him one. Still-- I did think he would stick around. I hoped he would. Of course Aoba would be the one to walk away this time, he needed control, why give it up now? Because I can protect him. Because I’m right about Ran and always have been. But Aoba had never listened to Mikado when it came to Ran. So why did he feel like this time should’ve been different? The answer revealed itself in memories of Aoba’s bruised and bandaged body. Because he’s getting worse. He blinked in surprise as Izaya suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders.
“You seem distracted.” he commented as Mikado tried to focus on the here and now, instead of the what ifs and Ran.
“Maybe you should try to be more interesting then.” Mikado suggested, and Izaya kissed him firmly. Mikado played along, fingers twisting in the seams of Izaya’s shirt as he was pushed backwards onto the floor. But his mind was filled with Aoba’s older brother, either severely injured or in pieces. I don’t really need Aoba’s permission. He thought as he remembered that he could kill him himself but he wasn’t blind to the consequences either. The blue squares…..murdering the leader of his gang could negatively affect Aoba if he wasn’t prepared for it. And for once, he was trying not to earn anymore of Aoba’s ire. I’m worried about him, but knowing him he’ll push me away again. He realized with a soft sigh. Aoba may be smart but what if Ran won’t stop at hurting him?
A hard bite on the side of his neck brought him back to reality.
“There are other ways to get my attention.” Mikado complained, as Izaya pulled back and stared down at him. Sometimes he hated how well Izaya could read people, this was one of those times.
“I apologize for not being more exciting. I’ll be sure to fix that in the future.” He said sweetly, hair tickling the younger male’s nose. When Mikado recalled the times that Izaya was exciting, the statement felt like a threat. He thought of the woman Izaya had sent after him right before their breakup. The one who turned out to be much stronger than she looked, and knew how to use a knife. Another curveball from Izaya Orihara. The latest in a long list of things that made the other man absolutely unpredictable.Yet Mikado knew it was only a matter of time before Izaya began to put him in situations that were more than merely compromising. To think you thought I was a pathetic masochist but I would never let anyone ruin me like Izaya would-
Aoba sure said some interesting things.
“You are exciting.” Mikado told Izaya, but pushed him off, abruptly bored of this game. There was an itch screaming at the back of his mind and he had no idea how to scratch it. It had been an issue since he reconciled with Izaya after Aoba broke off their thing, a month back and if anything it’s been growing in intensity. At first he thought it was just him missing Aoba, and he did, but soon he recognized that it was distinctly not grief. And as he stared up at the other male, it finally clicked what exactly it was. It was frustration. He was angry, because he had done all of this before, for years. This isn’t satisfying. It’s the same cycle over and over again. He realized. He knew all the steps of his relationship with Izaya, the heartbreak that always preceded it, the instinct of self preservation that always caused him to end it. Maybe some details had changed, like swapping Masaomi with Aoba, but did that make things significantly different?
“There he goes.” Izaya said quietly, as he watched him with an expression Mikado couldn’t decode. It doesn’t. He realized, But it was so much better than being with someone who he had to hide himself from. He was so very tired of the dynamic that he had with Masaomi. The facade, the distance, the lies, maybe he would never let the blond go, but their relationship, what they had, was rotten. In the end, although his civilian persona had Masaomi as it’s greatest ally, his true self was alienated from him. With Izaya, he didn’t have to hide who he was, even if he couldn’t trust the man. He had someone that was like him. Not as much as you think. Aoba’s words whisper into his mind like a snake. He realizes that the other man would be proud of himself if he knew.
Knew how much his words were haunting him.
Knew how he introduced doubt into Mikado’s mind, despite being in his most vulnerable state.
He wondered if Aoba was even aware of what he'd done. He doubted it, or the younger man wouldn’t have stormed out the way he had. To think you thought I was a pathetic masochist but I would never let anyone ruin me like Izaya would- There it was again, one of his parting blows, an actual misfire. But that’s not the same thing as hitting nothing. I’m not a masochist. He told himself. I just know what my options are. I always have. With Izaya, he could be himself but couldn’t trust him. With Masaomi, he couldn’t be himself but could trust him. He can’t hear me. Why am I still thinking of this? Their fight may have been recent, but Mikado shrugged off most conflicts like most jackets. This wasn’t even the first time he had made Aoba angry, and in the grand scheme of things, he had done worse. Yet their fight was living in his head rent free, and he wasn’t even sure if he wanted it to leave.
Because he missed Aoba in all the ways, even in his angry, and resentful states. He still wanted him around in some capacity and that was still true now. So he lets himself dwell on their clash, the exchange of words, the angry kiss, and everything in between. And he realizes that the honesty of their fight was more than noteworthy, it was biting. He hadn’t even realized when he was there. He was too busy trying to drag the truth of Aoba to reflect on his own actions but that didn’t change one fact.
He couldn’t remember the last time he was that honest.
One thing that his relationships with Izaya and Masaomi had in common was that both of them were built on lies, upon lies. He could never be honest with Masaomi, and with Izaya, he wasn’t sure where the truth ended and their lies began. But somehow despite their separation, for one entire conversation Mikado was himself. He wasn’t even sure if such openness felt good but it was new. And he didn’t spend his life being a cryptid aficionado just to start ignoring irregularities now.
“Izaya.”
“He speaks!”
“What did Aoba say to you before he left?”
“........he told me that you and I were different. And that he was better for you than I was.”
Is that even true? Mikado wondered. Does it matter? Even if I never see him again? He rose to his feet without thinking about it. The answer to that question was pretty clear.
When Aoba was sixteen, Ran broke his fingers, and inflicted various other injuries on him. For his part, he broke his brother’s nose, but that was poor comfort at the time. The next day, he seethed with rage and nursed his pain close to his chest, still he went to lengths not to express it. He thought he’d been successful too, until Kururi cornered him on his way home. He’d cut through the alleyway in a poorly chosen bid to get home quickly, and shut himself away from the world. Yet, he found her there right at the end of it, waiting for him.
Initially he just stared at her, as if she herself were a shocking sight. It was rare for him to see her without Mairu, yet it wasn’t a suitable excuse to gape at her like a fish. No, it was how she looked at him. Like she knew all his secrets already, and his scars.
“Can I help you?” he’d asked, quite dumbly. She raised a finger, expression impassive before she pointed it at him.
“Wounded.”
It was one word but it was enough to make him seize up. How? How did she know? He had watched Kururi for a while at this point, sometimes during school, most times after. Most times he would just look, other times he’d direct the Blue Squares away from him, even threaten them at some points. Apparently, she had been watching him as well, enough to notice his new bruises. Still, he recovered from the shock quickly enough, forcing his lips to stretch into a polite smile. Albeit, one that was a bit too stiff.
“Oh, I fell on my way to school.” And got hit by a car. And thrown off a cliff.
“You really don’t have to worry about me, Orihara-chan.” He told her easily, before a borderline hysterical laugh spilled out from behind him.
“And I thought this guy was a good liar! Seems like I was wrong,” Kururi said cheerily as Aoba turned to face her.
“What do you want.” He stated pseudo placating nature evaporating quickly. He wasn’t a fan of mockery on the best days, but certainly not today.
“We just wanted to check on a friend,” Mairu said with a smirk, just as small hands cupped his face. Kururi turned his head back to face her, and he found himself staring into her stoic gaze. Aoba flushed as he realized not only how soft her hands were, but how carefully she touched him. Someone hadn’t touched him that gently in, well ever.
“Come(with us).” She said as Mairu looped her free arm through his own. They spent the rest of the afternoon stitching him up, and he learned that they too had a horrible brother. Theirs just didn’t smack them around. Just like that he allowed himself to be pulled into a quasi relationship with a pair of utterly peculiar people.
Years later, he realized that not much has changed. Like before, he had allowed a bizarre person to pull him into something, and Ran still hurt him freely. The main difference was that now he had Mikado to hurt him too.
“Throwing a party?” He asked casually as he took his shoes off in front of the door. He could barely hear his voice over the sounds from the stereo. He didn’t even think that Ran liked this music, just recognized it for what it was. Jarring, loud, indecipherable, perfect music to torture someone to. If it stops at that.
“Only one for two, brother.” Ran called from the kitchen. Aoba followed his voice to see Ran seated at the table, cup of coffee in front of him, and corresponding saucepot on the stove. I should’ve burned something before coming here. He realized as he met his brother’s gaze.
“Coffee Pot broken?” He asked as he turned the stove back on.
“It’s been shit for awhile. You’re drinking some? That’s a first.”
“I drink tea.” Aoba reminded him, dropping his bag at the table as he riffled through the pantry.
“Where’s mom?”
“Gone.”
“How long?”
“Long enough. Cut the shit little brother, you know what’s up.” Ran said bluntly. Do I?
He knew what Ran planned on doing, and has known since he left the Orihara house. Yet for once he was unsure how he was going to solve this problem. Of course Ran doesn’t get to know shit. But that’s not going to keep me safe, is it?
Him being dead will. Mikado’s voice whispered into his mind like the siren he was. And like all the times before, he wasn’t confident that he could refuse it. Especially when Ran was staring at him like he was a new target. Like his favorite target. Aoba corrected internally. Ran may have had a revolving door of victims, but Aoba always remained. His punching bag, his baby bro, and it hit him hard that this had fuckall to do with Mikado. The rage that filled his veins as his fingers curled around the pot handle had been years in the making. He’s always hated Ran, always wanted to kill him, but his cautious nature had always gotten the best of him.
Also not now, not yet, wait, but maybe things were different this time. Maybe this time, Ran had truly exhausted all of his chances. Because Aoba did not need him anymore . He had Neko, pathetic, spineless, desperate Neko. A new decoy, a new fallman, a new puppet for Aoba to manipulate. And suddenly a pleasant emotion spread through him, bordering on euphoria.
Because it was finally time to cut Ran’s strings.
“You’re really testing my patience, little-” He never got a chance to finish, because Aoba threw a pot of boiling hot water into his face. His brother let out a shriek as Aoba pulled him forward by collar, and smashed the pot into the side of his head. This is nothing like killing Shijima, He realized, slightly shocked as he stared down at his brother’s body. Every cell in his body felt alive as he hit his brother again and again. For once his mind was empty of specific thoughts, only filled with bitter memories and wrathful emotions. Until the very end, when his brother’s body had almost stilled entirely. This is so……
He couldn’t find the right word before he dropped the pot, grabbing one of his longer cords as he climbed on top of his brother’s back. He wrapped the cords around Ran’s neck, and life returned to his brother but just barely. It wasn’t enough. Ran’s attempts to resist were weak, his struggles panicked but ineffectual. It was only then that Aoba could name the feeling that he currently experienced. Satisfaction . This was satisfying.
It was different from how he felt when they killed Shijima. There was no indifference, no hollowness threatening to drag him down. It was shocking, how good it felt to literally feel the life drain from his lifelong tormentor. It felt better than any fire.
It took Ran five minutes to die, but it took ten for things to fully sink in for Aoba. Ran is dead. It felt impossible, but the limp body at his feet and the blood splattered on the walls was proof that it’s true. He’s gone. A half hysterical laugh slipped from his mouth as he stepped backwards, shoulders shaking. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. The sound of soft creaking launched him out of his reverie as he slowly shifted his gaze.
Mikado stood in his hallway, looking at him with an expression caught between awe and….something else.
He didn’t know what to say, only knew that it wouldn’t be ‘I missed you’. But what came out was,
“What do you want?”
“So he did attack you.” Mikado stated this as he stood over Ran’s corpse.
“The only surprise here is you, Mikado. What do you want?”
Mikado didn’t answer and something inside of Aoba’s chest tightened.
“I didn’t do this for you.” Aoba said suddenly, and MIkado didn’t even glance at him.
“Is that so?” He said quietly.
“Hey.” Aoba barked and Mikado’s gaze shifted back to him.
“I didn’t do this for you.” He repeated, slower this time.
“I killed him because he fulfilled his purpose and I didn’t need him anymore.” I killed him for me. It occurred to Aoba that Mikado needed to leave. Emotions were already clawing their way up his throat and bad decisions were likely to follow. He needed to be rational if he was going to dispose of Ran without getting caught, and with Mikado he wasn’t even smart.
“Get out.” He said abruptly and now Mikado looked at him, usually intense gaze clouded over with pure confusion.
“ Excuse me? ” If the circumstances were different, Aoba probably would’ve laughed at his disbelief. As it were, he only gave the older man an exasperated look.
“I need to dump Ran. We can play your games later.” he said dryly. “Get out.”
“You don’t want help?” Mikado asked, sounding surprised.
“No.” And for a moment Mikado stared at him with an expression close to exasperation.
“ Okay, ” Mikado said as if placating him. “ But you need help. You’ve never disposed of a body alone before.” he pointed out. I sure as hell don’t need your help.
“Oh, and you know that? Based on what, your gut or because you just know me that well?” He asked innocuously and Mikado only stared at him before asking,
“What are you going to do about the body?”
“I’m sorry, but do I look like I answer to you?” He shot back and Mikado stepped into his space. The hand was moving along his face before he could react, tilting his face up.
“You’re being ridiculous. Let me help.”
Aoba felt embarrassed by how affected he was by it, face flushing and heart pounding at just a touch. Throwing him out was definitely the right decision.
“No.” He said flatly, smacking the hand away from him.
“Then call the police.” Mikado suddenly ordered and Aoba raised an eyebrow at him.
“What.” he stated, anger leaking into his voice.
“I’m bored with this fight,” Mikado said, as if mulling something over. “If you want me to get out, call the police. Otherwise, do you have a tarp?” he asked, looking pensive as he looked over the mess that was Ran's corpse. For a moment his lit up, but dulled before he turned back to Aoba.
“Because we should remove the body before we start cleaning.”
Cleaning took two hours.
When they finished, Mikado lingered in the kitchen with that same expression of wonder on his face. It was starting to get annoying. Is it that hard to believe that I killed him? Aoba thought, irritated at the notion as he reheated his tea, the liquid having cooled while he murdered his brother.
“So why did you come here?” Aoba asked again and Mikado blinked out of whatever haze he was in. Aoba averted his gaze before he could dwell on it, staring intently away from the other man instead.
“I came to see you.”
“Obviously. But why? I didn’t think we had anything left to talk about.” Aoba said nonchalantly.
“I thought we did.” Did he just get closer? His voice sounded closer. Aoba busied himself with drinking his tea to give himself some time to respond. Or rather, to decide if he wanted to actually respond or just throw barbs the other’s way.
“You’re wrong about a lot of things Mikado-sempai.” Aoba said sweetly. Barbs it is. He thought as he turned to look at him. Mikado had moved much closer during Aoba’s questions, now lingering a little behind the others’ chair.
“Um…..” Aoba said dumbly, stopping before he could say anything worse. The older man looked uncomfortable under Aoba’s gaze, uncomfortable but considering as he took a seat next to him. Questions and demands are bubbling up inside of Aoba, but he pushed them down. He knew where this led and he wasn’t dumb enough to play another one of Mikado’s games. Not right now.
“I was worried…..too.” The other man added, and all Aoba could do was stare , gap mouthed like a fish. Mikado stared back for a while, looking borderline anxious, before he leaned over and kissed him. Aoba kissed him back, fingers curling in the bottom of the other’s shirt as Mikado wrapped his arms around him. It was nothing like their last one, their anger and grief has been replaced with longing. He missed Mikado more than he ever wanted to admit, and he couldn’t hide it when the other was this close. So instead he pressed into him, letting everything else fade in the background except for Mikado’s mouth against his.
He doesn’t know how long they kiss for, only knows that the sound of thunder is what snaps him out of it. Aoba moves away from Mikado as if he was burned, falling back into his seat. Mikado looks surprised, blinking as he reaches for him.
“Aoba-”
He didn’t mean to swing at Mikado, only to put distance between them. But violence was the language he knew the best, and he hit the hand away anyway. Mikado caught the hand with his other one, and squeezed it hard enough that Aoba grimaced.
“I also came because I missed you.”
“Not this again.” Aoba said, a malicious smirk appearing on his face. “You sure went a long time without speaking to me for someone who missed me.”
“Because we were different--”
“Yeah I know-”
“And I thought we had to be the same.” He admitted quietly and he was leaning over again. Aoba expected a kiss, but was caught off guard by the arms wrapping around him instead. A hug? He thought, unsure of how to respond.
“I thought if we weren’t the same then it would be Masaomi and I all over again.” he admitted. “I did miss you though, I missed you a lot.”
I didn’t do this for you.
Aoba had said this after he explained what happened between him and Ran. Mikado felt a tinge of disappointment at that statement. It would’ve been nice if he had. To know that even when their relationship was damaged, he still had some type of hold over him. That’s not enough anymore, it didn’t make him come back. Mikado thought, as he brought his gaze back to Ran.
“So he did attack you.” Bastard.
“Don’t act like it was a surprise, Mikado-senpai.” Aoba had said sweetly, flashing him a picture perfect smile. “The only surprise here is you. What do you want?” It’s the second time he’s asked this question in five minutes. Mikado thinks that Masaomi would probably butter him up with jokes and flirting. That Izaya would talk circles around Aoba until he forgot that he had a foot to stand on, let alone which one it was. And the Mikado that played with both of them would say whatever he thought they wanted to hear. But what should the real Mikado say? Why is he here?
I missed you.
It takes him a while to be able to say it again.
“Are you sure he won’t be found here?” Aoba asked as they stood over Ran’s newly finished grave. He still had bags under his eyes despite having slept for most of their journey.
“We’re several towns away. You won’t have any problems, unless your mom reports you to the police.” Mikado conceded, as he interlaced Aoba’s hands in his own. The other male didn’t pull away and Mikado squeezed it for good measure. Aoba snorted.
“She doesn’t talk to cops. And she wouldn’t believe that I’d hurt Ran.”
“Sounds like she doesn’t know you the best.” Mikado muttered, surprised that anyone could spend any time with the brothers and not pick up on their violent relationship.
“No, she doesn’t.” Aoba conceded, before sighing.
“I wasn’t lying you know? I didn’t kill him for you, I did it for myself.” Aoba added, and Mikado kept his gaze off the other. Anxiety bubbled up within him like an old friend, as he feared that they were approaching another goodbye. He bit his lip softly before responding,
“I didn’t think you-”
“It felt good you know, to kill him.” Aoba said, cutting him off, his brown eyes boring into Mikado’s blue ones. A spark of excitement flared within the older male, as his hand instinctively tightened on Aoba’s. Maybe we were both wrong. Maybe-- His thoughts were interrupted as Aoba pulled his hand from Mikado’s own, and sank to the ground. He sat in front of his brother’s ‘grave’, gaze measured and pensive.
“The one bad thing is that it was over so quickly. I would probably start with strangling him, if I ever did it again.” He said casually, and Mikado felt like his heart was pounding. When’s the last time I’ve felt like this? He wondered as watched the other man. Not since we killed Shijima.
“But I’m still not like you Mikado, that hasn’t changed.” Aoba said pleasantly, and the smile he gave him was laced in malice. He’s still upset, but that’s better than him not being here. Mikado noted as he joined the other man on the ground.
“Really? Because you sound like me.” Mikado argued as he joined him on the ground. He wondered when they reached this point. When had Mikado become willing to be this transparent? Especially when it made him so anxious.
“I’m not interested in killing anyone that hasn’t pissed me off. I’m vindictive, not a serial killer.” he said with a snort, as Mikado got a sinking feeling that Aoba was correct. That they were different, and that acknowledgement still brought Mikado some degree of anxiety. But different was worth trying, right? He thought, as Aoba fixed Mikado with an even look.
“Unlike you. You’ll kill anyone if you’re bored enough, honestly Mikado, I think you want to be caught---” He continued.
“I don’t want to get caught.” Mikado began, eager to stop his words. As if that was Aoba’s main issue with being in a relationship with him. His objections were stopped by Aoba’s hand over his mouth, and Mikado was surprised at how warm the other’s gaze was.
“I’ll never let myself be destroyed, regardless of how bored I get. That’s why we’re different, and it’s why you’re so damn lucky that we are.” Aoba finished, and smirked.
“Because you will get caught if someone’s not cleaning up behind you.” He teased and Mikado felt the tightness in his chest soften. He felt warm as he relaxed against the other male, and Aoba’s grip on his mouth loosened. The confidence on Aoba’s face was blinding when he finally said,
“I missed you too.”