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It'd been over a decade since the epidemic that wiped out a third of the earth's population, and the wars and political struggles that had risen in the following, chaotic years had down in for another half of what remained, if not more if one counted the death toll to disease and crime, the lack of modern medicine, the tainted environment and water in most urban areas and the general set back in civilization.

Mikado had been fifteen when it started. He was twenty-seven now. And like any of the survivors of the years between the end of the world and now... He was changed. One of the lucky ones to survive disease and war, right? Lucky... Survival came at a cost, and when the streets of Ikebukuro, once bustling with commerce and tourists, became a dead zone of gang warfare and violence, Mikado had been right in the middle of it. And powerless.

He'd learned just how powerless, painfully, and often. Until his hatred and anger had warped and tempered him into something cold and precise as a scalpel. He wasn't strong in the way the thugs and the fighters were, but amateurish inexperience could only last so long and Mikado was a fast learner. He rose to power on three things; his wits, his force of personality, and ruthlessness. Ambushing his enemies and using clever traps and guises to get him where brute strength couldn't, and using those connections that were drawn to his innate charisma to get him where only brute strength could. Even after disaster and damage, he had a certain ability to charm people with his personality, and those that followed him now were, by and large, either incredibly loyal or too useful to be rid of. In turn his mind and vision was too useful for even the less loyal followers to risk trying to be rid of, and so a balance was struck somewhere along the line. He'd lost the charming uncertainty and idealism but he'd gained a quiet, iron confidence that others were drawn to.

He had a game, a way to control the territory he'd wrested from lawlessness. Preventing fighting on the streets of the ruined city was impossible, but he could enforce it. Give it incentive. Only registered combatants would be suffered to be found fighting, and they could tear at each other as they wished, when they wished, wherever they wished. The incentive; tags given to everyone who registered, that could be ripped from a defeated opponent. They could be traded in for anything based on their number value. Better accommodations, whores, drugs, weapons, though guns were banned from the fights. The most skilled could, in theory, attempt for the specific poker hand of tags that would allow them to challenge the organization's mysterious and shadow'd leader, though none had ever reached that goal. In turn, anyone unregistered caught fighting would be summarily executed by the enforcers--unless the enforcers decided they were good looking enough to serve another purpose.

In that way, Ikebukuro stabilized a little. Non-combatants still feared the streets at night but thugs feared the enforcers more, and some semblance of life continuing grew a little, under the watchful laws of the lawless Dollars.

For Mikado this wasn't his end ambition but it was a start. But he hadn't expected, months ago, that one of the new combatants to register would have been Kida himself. The registration took place in the mansion the main members of Dollars called home, and with all registrations Mikado had been watching the newcomers put on their masks, his own in place before he revealed himself to meet them, explain the rules, and ask if they wanted to participate.

His heart had near stopped when he'd seen Kida. He almost hadn't recognized him, both their faces and voices had changed with age and trauma, and Mikado was sure Kida hadn't even had a remote moment of recognition when Mikado explained the purpose and perks of fighters. Mikado's own role in the world he'd created was the secretary to the shadowy and terrifying Dollar's boss, with none but the highest ranking aware that the quiet and no-nonsense, rather popular secretary-san was the shadowy Boss himself. That he dealt in everything from drugs to slavery and black market items, well, that was just a means of further acquiring power. Distasteful as it was, it was effective, and he left the more sadistic parts to those that most enjoyed it, usually.

But seeing Kida had shaken him, worried him in a way he wasn't aware he could still worry. Fighters died daily, defeat could mean anything from humiliation and rape to outright murder, anything was allowed in the laws of the game, but only within the game. A victor had complete freedom to deal with a loser as they saw fit, and after seeing Kida's face for the first time in years, Mikado had had his first nightmare in years; that same face dead and staring, lifeless and accusatory. For days afterwards he'd been grumpy and out of sorts, a state he couldn't afford to maintain.

Try as he might to put it from mind, he couldn't help but be drawn to Kida's progress in the fights. And Kida's presence brought with it other trouble. Members of a gang from a territory Mikado didn't control (not yet, but that was an eventual goal, they were strong enough to pose a problem for now though) had started showing up in Dollar's territory. They weren't registered fighters and they mostly respected the game's laws (those who didn't met bad ends, even rival gangs feared the consequences of violating Dollar's law) but they were still a concerning presence, trouble tracking Kida.

And Mikado was tracking them. He knew, after a few weeks of his underlings keeping tabs, that the gang was after Kida, and so he kept watch himself or through an underling.

So when Kida found himself being backed into a corner by the thugs of that group Mikado had been watching, Mikado happened to be there. If Mikado were an enforcer he'd have dealt with them ruthlessly, but he was only the Dollar's "secretary" and so he made a note of each face before he darted out of the shadow of one doorway, grabbed Kida's arm with a shouted "This way!" and ran.

No one knew the streets and back alleys like Mikado did, like he'd made a point to, and but still he kept them navigating the maze of abandoned and derelict buildings for twenty minutes to be safe, before coming to a stop in one mostly intact old apartment building, a little winded, letting go of Kida to glance cautiously out a broken window. The streets were empty, there wasn't a sound or feeling of anyone but the two of them.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Do you think so?

Trusting too easy has always been one of my weak points.

Are you saying you shouldn't trust me?

Can you guarantee I should?

Yes. But it doesn't really matter if you don't.

I'm not sure. Even if you're safe, yourself, you were just arguing with me about how I can't afford weak points. Someone could notice I loosen up around you and take advantage... One of us could get hurt that way.

Ah, are you worried I'm careless enough to be used as a hostage?

You wouldn't have to be careless.

How long do you think I've been running Dollars? Getting caught would be very careless, and it would be worse than just to be used against you.

If you want to not trust me and keep yourself free of attachments in order to be better off facing Fate, then that's fine. Though you said yourself you don't really work like that.

Maybe I have to change how I work, if I want to win. Being open is what got me in trouble in the first place. If I want to be practical... It's probably best to stay alone.

[He shrugs, setting the empty teacup aside and curling up in the corner of the couch. Loneliness doesn't suit him -- it never really did, but it does so even less now. Giving up is a habit he'd abandoned with his real name. But fear is a heavy chain, and he's feeling thoroughly wrapped up and held down by it.]

Not that I don't appreciate the alliance. I couldn't get anywhere without you. And I'll do everything I can to minimize your losses. I just... I probably can't make people happy like I used to if I change, but that doesn't really matter, does it? I don't have a long-term future to plan for.

....You might as well go back to being Masaomi, if that's what you're deciding on.

The reason you were brought down might be because you were too open, but that's also the reason you succeeded in the first place isn't it? I don't understand how you managed it, I couldn't work like that, but when you're being Lucky it almost seems like you're actually happy sometimes.

I can fake it. Outside of this room I'll just act like I always do. It's not that hard to seem happy.

......It's not. But if you change like that, it ends up empty, doesn't it.

[He looks at the cup in his hand and sets it down.]

It's up to you, but I think it should have some meaning to you, what you're fighting for, what you intend to be. I can cope by being detached but it doesn't seem to suit you well. And even the way I am, I still believe strongly in what I'm doing, I still have attachment to my goals. It's different than how you feel, but it's what makes it not meaningless.

It's not empty. I'm still fighting for what I believe in, no matter what. It's just... If my chances of winning are better when I sacrifice parts of myself, it should be an easy choice. I'm just going to die afterwards anyway.

...That's not really true. And you should know that if you plan to die afterwards you'll just die before you finish your goal.

I have someone reliable working on a cure, I didn't want to say because I can't promise anything. But if you've already given up hope, it's better that you consider it an option, still.

We can talk theories and ideology all we like, Masaomi, but you've decided to live your life as something bigger than yourself, so you can't afford to sacrifice what made that successful. Changing your approach is one thing, but deciding to close yourself off will not be viable in the long term, not for what you built before, not if you want to build it again.

If you don't want to trust me, specifically, that's your call. If what's happened changes you, that's understandable. But you don't really have the luxury or option of it. Lucky is an unbelievable legend with an open heart and a charm you can't fake forever. You'll lose support if it's not at least partially genuine.

[The most calculated reasons for staying open and friendly, yes, totally good arguments here.]

[For a few moments, he just stares at Mikado. The look on his face is honestly... Well, he looks a little betrayed.

Why would he do that, without telling him? He said why, but-- It's not a good reason. That's something too big to do on his own. Too important to do behind his back. Especially when it's--

The thing is, Mikado is right. More, if Mikado is able to cure him, he'll need to be able to get back to normal for good. He's got a lot ahead of him, and he can't just collapse, no matter how much he wants to. He doesn't have a choice.

It feels like he's trapped. There used to be so much freedom in who he was, but now... Now he feels like something broken, being held up and moved by puppet strings. It's hard to breathe.

But he doesn't have a choice, so he only lets himself look hurt for another moment, before he switches to a tired smile.]

Ah... I guess you're right. It's about time I get it together.

[Fuck it's been so long since he had to deal with real emotions. With being... Invested in the person in front of him instead of just detached. Detached he could say whatever the person needed to hear, whatever lie or trust or half between made sense to ease their feelings or kill their feelings... It didn't matter if it was for Ikebukuro.]

[But..For Kida he thinks he could even forget the good of Ikebukuro. It's alarming, how much he feels, when he thinks about it. But it's reassuring. And it's scary when he sees Kida hurt and betrayed by his own words. He's a grown man and a leader and he feels awkward as hell.]

...Masaomi... If you want to let it go and escape all of it, I'll help you. You don't have to live that life.

[They're insane words. If he follows through he'll be putting Ikebukuro in so much shit and the war with Fate isn't certain even with Lucky on their side. But he's looking right at Kida when he says it, and he means it. His expression, though he doesn't notice, is troubled, concerned and closer to open then... It's been. In a long time.]

[That's a startling thing to hear. It's... a big offer. To escape his identity, his responsibility, and run. To go away and live somewhere else, as someone else -- maybe somewhere quieter, safer. There's no such thing as truly safe when he's literally branded his skin, but he could find someone willing to hide him. A neighborhood willing to keep quiet. A place out in the middle of nowhere even, one of the little villages that gets by by pretending it's a time long, long gone by.

It'd be nice. A simple life where he can just breathe is what he wants more than anything. But... No. It's not something he deserves. If he ran away now, he couldn't live for long, even if he did find a safe place. The guilt would kill him much faster than his disease.]

But I do. I built that place, so I owe my life to it. If I quit, I'll die.

Ah.

[Mikado closes his eyes a moment, considering that answer. It makes him happy to hear, honestly. He'd have followed through with the offer, impulsive as it was, stupid and disastrous as it could have been. But knowing Kida won't run makes him happy. It's a sense of relief too, and he relaxes, shoulders slumping.]

Then if that's what you've decided on, at least let me support you. I don't just mean with Dollars.

You mean as an old friend?

[He laughs, just a breath, and without humor. Really? He's not sure how to feel about that. If he can trust Mikado or not. The way he looked at him just then, though... He probably can. If he's willing to go that far to save his life, it must mean something. But it's strange, to rely on someone whose way of dealing with things is so different. They're like night and day. Can someone as cold and rational as Mikado really support someone as hot-headed and instinct-bound as Lucky-- as Masaomi?]

That's what I mean.

[He agrees. It's weird to acknowledge it like this when the whole atmosphere is uncomfortable and stiff. They've found moments of almost connection now and then but... Mostly they're really different. Still, Masaomi makes Mikado... Feel nostalgic. No... Unsettled? Just makes him feel like something he's forgotten, it's neither entirely unpleasant nor entirely welcome, but he doesn't hate it.]

Well, I might be kind of rusty.

Why do you want to?

[As he asks, he makes sure to make eye contact. It's an important question. For all he knows, Mikado could be hoping to manipulate the softer of the two of them. He doesn't think he is, but... But he's confused. Why is someone who's survived by being so strict loosening up so much for him? It's been too long. Has he really caved to such old feelings?]

Why would you spend so much money and risk so much for someone who left you behind twelve years ago? And getting personal? What are you really thinking, Mikado?

[Because I always wanted to trust you. Because you were my best friend. Because when you left I was the most alone I've ever been. Because seeing you again makes me feel and I hate it and I welcome it and it's horrible.]

[It's hard to break eye contact when Masaomi starts with it, so Mikado ends up meeting his eyes for a long, uncomfortable silence, visibly shaken at the question before he looks away.]

....When it comes to fighting Fate I was going to anyway. Supporting you is actually beneficial to me. But...

[But after that. Why invest in how well Kida does after Fate's gone, why try to get him cured, why be emotionally invested, why abandon logic and reason to offer him an out why why why indeed.]

....I don't know, honestly. I just want to. Ah, well that sounds incredibly irresponsible. I guess... It is.

Well, I know it's unrealistic to expect to reforge a bond of so many years ago, you yourself even discarded that identity, I shouldn't cling to it. Forget I said anything.

[The shift is noticeable, from almost vulnerable and troubled to a calm smile, sliding back into the personality he's grown comfortable with. As detached from himself as he can be. Feelings are just too messy, too risky.]

I don't think I will.

[Instead he uncurls, getting up from the couch to come over and invade Mikado's personal space.

He wants to see what'll happen. He wants to see if those emotions he just saw are really triggered by him. Mikado seemed like such a robot, but-- maybe the person he knew is still in there, a little. They're both grown up now, and very different, that's true. But Lucky is just an evolution of Masaomi, and so this Mikado is just the same, right?

He puts one hand on the arm of Mikado's chair, and with the other reaches over to pick up his glasses again. A flick of the wrist opens them, and he slips them loosely over his own nose, holding them up rather than putting them on all the way.

Then, he just smiles.]

There we go. I think I can see a cute, good-hearted nerd when I look at you this way.

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