Chapter Text
The sliding glass doors hissed shut behind him as Arisu stepped out of the building, shoulders sagging with that post-work, tech-job exhaustion that even coffee can’t fix. His ID badge still hung from his neck, and his jacket was halfway on.
Tatta, walking beside him, gave him a half-hearted wave. “You look like a dead man.”
“I feel like a dead man,” Arisu muttered, fishing out his phone. “But give me five minutes and a change of clothes, and I’ll look alive again. Hopefully.”
Tatta laughed. “What’s the occasion?”
Arisu just smiled.
“Ahhh. Got it.” Tatta pointed two fingers at him. “Be safe, lovebird.”
“Shut up,” Arisu said, but didn’t deny it.
_____
The moment he got home, the jacket hit the couch, the work shirt came off, and he headed straight to the bedroom. He flicked on the light and kicked off his shoes like a man on a mission.
His phone buzzed as he buttoned up a clean black shirt. It lit up the room with a little ping, and there it was—his lock screen: A photo of him and Chishiya, under a tunnel of cherry blossoms.
They were both in casual spring clothes—Chishiya in a crisp white hoodie, hands in his pockets like always, squinting at the camera like it was a suspicious stalker. Arisu was next to him, laughing at something Chishiya had said just before the photo was snapped, mouth open mid-grin, clearly the one who begged for the picture.
The blossoms blurred in the background, pink and white like a dream, but the real softness was in the way Chishiya’s eyes tilted just slightly toward Arisu. A blink-and-you-miss-it kind of affection.
The time at the top of the screen blinked: 6:33 PM
A group chat message popped up:
“Where the hell r u, nerd” – Karube 🍻
Right on cue, his phone rang. The name lit up as:
🍺 Dumbasses 🍺”
He hit speaker.
Karube (loudly, with bar sounds behind him): “ARISU RYOUHEI. WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU. THIS BEER IS GETTING WARM.”
Chota (already tipsy): “You promised to come out more often! You LIIIIED—”
Arisu laughed, adjusting the collar in the mirror. “No can do tonight, gentlemen. I have a very important mission.”
Karube: “You’re seeing Chishiya, aren’t you.”
Arisu (smirking): “Ding ding ding.”
Chota: “Gross. You guys are like, serious serious now, huh?”
Arisu: “I literally can’t answer that without spoiling the surprise.”
He opened the drawer beside the bed and carefully pulled out a small, velvet box. Simple. Matte black.
His thumb brushed over it.
Karube (suspicious): “…Wait. Wait. WAIT.”
Chota (gasps): “YOU’RE GONNA—”
Arisu: “Bye!”
He hung up mid-screech, stuffed the box into his coat pocket, grabbed his keys, and headed out the door.
The elevator ride down was weirdly quiet. He checked his reflection once more in the metal walls. Fixed his hair. Took a breath.
Outside, the city buzzed like normal—cars, lights, and the chill of spring about to settle in for good. He walked over to his car, clicked the unlock button, and slid into the driver’s seat.
He looked at his hands for a second. Shook them out. Laughed to himself, just once.
“Okay,” he whispered. “Time to go see my prince.”
He started the engine.
______
He pulled out of the lot, one hand on the wheel, the other fiddling with the volume until the playlist Chishiya made him came on. The one called "for when your brain is fried but you're still cute."
Of course Chishiya would name it that.
Of course Arisu would still listen to it on repeat.
The city lights faded as the streets stretched out toward the quieter part of town. He was heading for some modern-meets-ancient kind of restaurant Chishiya had picked. The place apparently sat next to a riverbank and served course meals on handcrafted plates, whatever that meant. All Arisu knew was: Chishiya said the view was nice. So he said yes.
The bridge wasn’t crowded tonight. Just a few cars. Street lamps glowed gold and quiet, and on the left—water, moving like ink. On the right, trees in that almost-blooming stage, where everything looks like it’s holding its breath.
His phone lit up. A message.
Chishiya: You're late.
One minute later:
You better not be dead, Ryouhei.
Arisu snorted and immediately hit the call button. The ring didn’t even make it to two seconds before Chishiya picked up.
"You're driving like a grandpa, aren’t you," came the voice. Smooth. Deadpan. Zero mercy.
Arisu groaned. "Hi, babe. I love you too."
"You say that like it's going to stop me from committing murder."
"Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve tried."
"Don’t tempt me."
There was a brief pause where Arisu could hear him sighing through his nose. Probably rolling his eyes while doing something casually life-ruining, like existing.
"Where are you?" Chishiya said.
"I'm like five minutes away? I'm crossing the bridge—"
"I know where the bridge is. I meant specifically. Are you by the creepy statue yet?"
Arisu squinted. "There's no creepy statue."
"Yes there is. The one that looks like it's about to curse your family."
"...Oh shit, yeah. I see it."
"You're late."
"It's literally six-forty. Our reservation is at seven."
"You said you'd be early."
"That was before Karube and Chota tried to trap me in a bar with emotional blackmail!"
"They were emotionally blackmailing you?"
"They were screaming over beer, it counts!"
He could hear Chishiya click his tongue, probably walking somewhere. Somewhere echoey, judging by the way his voice slightly bounced. The kitchen? The restaurant entrance?
"You're such an idiot," Chishiya muttered.
"Yeah, but I’m your idiot," Arisu grinned.
"Unfortunately."
“Hey.”
“What.”
Arisu drummed his fingers on the wheel. "...Y’know, if this date goes well, you might be stuck with me for the rest of your life.”
The silence that followed was so long, Arisu immediately panicked.
"Okay that sounded more dramatic than—"
"Drive," Chishiya said.
Arisu blinked. "What?"
"Shut up and drive, Ryouhei."
There was a faint pause again. And just barely, like the wind brushing the edge of a curtain, he heard Chishiya say—
"...Before I start missing you too early."
Then the call ended.
Arisu stared at the screen for a full five seconds.
“…He hung up on me.”
He hit the gas a little harder. "Okay. Fine. I'll drive."
And he did. Smiling like an idiot the whole way.
He was still smiling like an idiot when it hit him.
Wait.
What the hell was he doing?
He was wearing cologne. His hair was actually styled. He had on a button-up. A real one. With buttons.
And in his pocket—no, inside the glove compartment—was a ring box. The ring box. The one he nearly had a heart attack buying. The one he’d been hiding in random drawers like it was radioactive.
He was going to propose.
He was actually doing this. Like, for real.
He, Ryouhei Arisu, disaster incarnate, was going to ask Shuntaro Chishiya to marry him.
“Okay,” he whispered. “Okay, okay, okay—wait, what the fuck?”
His hands tightened on the wheel. He suddenly remembered how sweaty his palms got when he asked Chishiya out the first time. How he’d tripped over his own feet during their third date. How Chishiya literally threatened to dump him once over how he folded laundry.
And now he wanted to marry that man?
Was he possessed?? Was this a brain parasite thing?? Was love a disease—
Headlights.
From the other lane.
Arisu didn’t even have time to scream. The brakes shrieked, the wheel jerked, tires slid—and then the guardrail hit like a gunshot. Glass shattered. Something yanked his body sideways. His skull cracked against the window.
And then water.
A sickening splash.
The car was tumbling in slow motion. His ears were full of static. His chest felt punched in. Cold was crawling in through every crack of the windows, leaking in like smoke, like fingers dragging him downward.
He tried to move. His arms weren’t listening.
Everything was blue. Sharp and endless.
And it hurt. God, it hurt.
He saw the surface, far above, stretching like glass. He wasn’t floating toward it.
The glove compartment had burst open. The ring box was out. Just sinking, quietly, like it didn’t even care.
He was going to die.
He was going to die like this. In this stupid shirt. With stupid plans. Without even getting to see Chishiya roll his eyes at the ring.
He closed his eyes. Or maybe they were already closed.
Then something shifted.
A spark. That’s what it felt like at first.
Like the way it feels when your blood rushes to your head after standing up too fast. Dizzy. Warm. Too bright.
It started as a glow. Faint. At the edge of his sight. Swirling like dust through water.
Gold. White. Blue.
Then more of it. Like stars falling in reverse, lighting the dark around him. Curling upward. Spinning.
It wasn’t water anymore. He couldn’t feel the cold. Couldn’t feel the ache in his lungs. Couldn’t even feel the weight of his own body.
The light wrapped around him. Somewhere—somewhere deep in that buzz of nothingness—he thought he heard a voice.
Something like—
Wake up.
And he was gone.