Characters – Mikado, Kida, Anri
Pairings –Mikado/Kida/Anri
Genres – Friendship, Drama, Romance
Note(s) – just a quick drabble.

Sunset of Betrayal

It hurts, he thinks. That Mikado is falling deeper in, his pale face obviously pinkish, and that Anri isn't relenting or avoiding them as much as she could – should.

Kida doesn't like the fact that he is the most alert and knowing of the three of them. He has knowledge he always hopes he never has – he knows that Anri knows, and that she can't be bothered with either of them.' Is she straight?' he thinks, once. Her distant, unfocused eyes meander away behind the lenses of her spectacles. Her brown jewels do that whenever he starts off on a topic that crosses his mind, a point of the conversation where he hopes that all three of them can talk. But she closes her lips. She summons that weak, guarded smile of hers, and doesn't speak.

He knows that Mikado doesn't know – and the black-haired probably wouldn't care if he knew – so he continues to trail after her, chasing her skirt in the innocent, humble way only the Ryuugamine could. 'Is he straight?" he thinks, more than once. Because Mikado is his childhood friend and of course he's thought about that question before, back when they were still neighbours. He wonders why Mikado doesn't just confess to Anri. Kida can tell that he hasn't made any move or indication of his plainly obvious attraction to her – he's still peppy and she's still moody. As normal as normal could get, in a place like Ikebukuro.

And it was hurting.

He tells them to cut the act one night, in the park, when the streetlights are dim and the infamous fountain is a silent trickling in the background. Kida does so with that impossibly composed smile he usually saves for tight, dire situations, for ditching Mikado so that he can have a chance with the girl, for telling Anri that she is erotic. He only wishes for the two of them to be happy – he tends to do that for someone he loves too much, out of charity – and if they are content with the current situation of the three of them dawdling and wearing fake faces and showing empty responses, it can stay that way.

Then, a girl blushes and lowers eyes that surprisingly do not wander or falter. She bites her lip and fixates her gaze to the pavement below the bench the three of them are occupying. Mikado produces an exasperated sound that comes between a mousy gasp and a muffled squeak, unable to say any more. Kida proceeds to announce that he fabulously loves two people, because there is nothing left to lose – just as much as there is to gain, he assumes. He then closes his eyes in the most dignified way possible, his pride taking a deep breath and preparing for the two seated on either side of him to get up and leave.

But the problem is… they don't.

Anri slowly, cautiously leans so that her shoulder is touching his arm and Mikado takes warm hold of his left hand. Something almost like relief and joy blankets his heart, Kida supposes. The two take turns explaining that they were hoping all along, that Kida would be the one to break the suffocating tension between their trio. He breathes a sigh, and wonders who he should kiss first – Then, Mikado and Anri look over him, her breasts against his arm, the other's lanky arm curving around his own in comfort. They lock their beautiful, handsome eyes across his chest, sharing meek smiles and accomplished expressions. It is a small, tiny, shy look that Kida will never be able to mimic and follow and understand. Is it because he can't bring himself to come between them and break their gaze? Is it because somewhere, deep in his imagination, he continues to feel jealous? And this suddenly doesn't feel as perfect as he thought it should've been.

So it continues to hurt.

end