Chapter Text
The corridor is a silent stretch into infinity—at least, that’s how it feels like. The production company’s offices are sleek and minimalist, the people inside dressed like they’re at some elegant cocktail party.
Arisu tries not to stare as he follows Usagi, his manager, deeper inside the maws of the company.
“Any guesses as to what this is about?” Usagi asks, glancing back at him with a small smile. “The director was very mysterious on the phone.”
Arisu shrugs, hands shoved in his jacket pockets. “Drama series, maybe? He said it was a ‘groundbreaking project that will redefine the industry.’” He makes air quotes with his fingers. “Which usually means either an adaptation of a popular manga or something that will tank spectacularly.”
“Optimistic as always.” Usagi laughs, lightly bumping her shoulder against his. “Come on, it might be good.”
“Yeah, might.” Arisu points out.
She cracks a grin. “Where’s your positive attitude?”
“Left it at home with my bills.”
Usagi laughs, then reaches out and squeezes his shoulder. “Hey, you’re doing better than most.”
Arisu sighs and leans into her touch. “Yeah, I know, I just…” He trails off, shaking his head. “You’re right, I should be more open-minded. This might actually be good.”
Usagi smiles and squeezes him into a one-armed hug, which he returns, feeling a little lighter.
They finally reach the door at the end of the corridor. It’s the fancy kind of wood with a brass plaque that reads: “Director Kobayashi — Visionary Productions” in elegant script.
Arisu rolls his shoulders, loosening the tension that always settles there before meetings. “Ready for me to dazzle them?”
“Just don’t be yourself for the first five minutes. Then they’ll be charmed.”
“Um, rude.”
“Truth hurts.”
Arisu suppresses a snort and pushes the door open with an easy and practiced smile already sliding into place, mentally prepared to shake hands and exchange pleasantries with whatever eccentric director has called him here.
The smile freezes on his face.
Because sitting on the sleek black couch against the far wall is none other than Chishiya, legs crossed elegantly, hair falling just so over one eye like he has calculated the perfect angle for maximum irritation. He’s also wearing that stupid, lazy half-smile that Arisu has wanted to punch off his face for three years now.
He looks exactly as he did the last time Arisu saw him at the awards ceremony 6 months ago when Chishiya had accepted Best Supporting Actor with a speech that also included, “I’d like to thank my competition for making me look even better.” He’d looked directly at Arisu when he said it.
The bastard.
Chishiya’s eyes sharpen the moment Arisu enters. His posture doesn’t change—he still looks like he’s posing for a magazine spread—but his fingers resting on his knee curl into his palm.
Arisu feels his own jaw tighten.
“You.” Arisu says accusingly.
“You.” Chishiya echoes, voice dripping with the same distaste.
Usagi sighs behind Arisu’s back. “Oh no.”
Next to Chishiya, looking professionally unbothered, sits Ann—Chishiya’s manager, an intimidatingly beautiful woman with crimson lipstick and the patience of a saint who’s clearly earned every yen of her salary.
“What’s he doing here?” Arisu and Chishiya ask at the exact same time.
They glare at each other.
“Stop copying me.” They say together.
“Stop—”
“FASCINATING!” The other occupant of the room claps his hand, beaming. “You’re already in sync! What did I tell you, Ann-san? What did I tell you?!”
Ann exhales slowly. “You told me many things, Kobayashi-san…many of them were loud.”
The man behind the massive desk is small, middle-aged, with wild salt-and-pepper hair and round glasses that magnify eyes already sparkling with unhinged creativity. Director Kobayashi, apparently.
“Arisu-kun, SIT.” Kobayashi waves at the couch. “I have a proposal that will change everything.”
“I’m not working with him.” Arisu states.
“Mutual.” Chishiya adds, his voice smooth as poisoned honey.
“Sit first, reject later. That’s the Kobayashi Method.”
Usagi, bless her, is already steering Arisu toward the other end of the couch. “We’re listening. What’s the project?”
The director steeples his fingers, eyes gleaming. “I have a vision. A J-drama about two rival idols-turned-actors who are forced to play lovers on screen while hating each other in real life…only to slowly, inevitably fall for one another. Passion! Misunderstanding! Tenderness! Longing! Slow-burn tension that makes the audience scream!”
Arisu feels his stomach drop. “...lovers.”
Chishiya lets out a short, disbelieving laugh. “You’re joking.”
“I never joke about chemistry!” Kobayashi slams a hand on the desk for emphasis. “The fans are going to lose their minds. Arisu’s earnest, boy-next-door energy clashing with Chishiya’s icy, untouchable beauty? The girls will riot. The boys will riot. Everyone will riot! It’ll be trending for months. #Chirisu will break records!”
“I’m not acting romantic scenes with him.” Chishiya says, and Arisu is gratified to hear a sliver of real annoyance in his voice.
“That’s exactly what your characters say!” Kobayashi points at him triumphantly. “See? Perfect casting!”
Arisu runs a hand through his hair, trying to process this. He can feel Usagi’s concerned gaze on him. He can feel Chishiya’s glare boring into the side of his head.
“There has to be other actors.” Arisu tries weakly. “Better ones. Ones who don’t actively want to strangle each other.”
“But that’s the point.” The director insists. “Your genuine dislike will make the eventual romance feel earned and authentic! The audience will eat it up!” Kobayashi gestures between Arisu and Chishiya. “Look at you two, you already radiate hostility. It’s perfect.”
Ann pinches the bridge of her nose. “Kobayashi-san, with all due respect, casting two rival actors as romantic leads in a drama is...risky.”
“Risks are where art lives, Ann-san!”
“This isn’t art.” Chishiya says flatly. “This is a soap opera waiting to happen.”
“A hit soap opera!” Kobayashi corrects with a manic glint in his eyes.
“This is a terrible idea.” Chishiya continues.
“It’s a brilliant idea!” Kobayashi counters excitedly. “The internet will explode over this.”
“The internet explodes over cat videos.” Usagi points out.
“EXACTLY. Low bar, high payoff.”
Arisu glances at Chishiya. His expression is perfectly tucked behind his poker face, but his fingers are tapping an uneven rhythm against his knee.
Kobayashi isn’t done apparently. “The offer, ten million yen per episode. Each. Plus a 1.5% cut of the streaming residuals. International distribution is already being negotiated.”
Usagi’s eyes go wide. Arisu’s brain stutters.
“Ten million.” He repeats slowly.
“Per episode.” Kobayashi confirms cheerfully. “Eight episodes total. So, eighty million yen for...what, three months of work? Four? And you get to stare at Chishiya-kun’s face every day. What an honor.”
“I’d rather stare at a wall.” Arisu mutters, his voice sounding vaguely strangulated.
“Walls don’t have cheekbones that nice, though.”
Arisu genuinely doesn’t know what to answer to that, so he keeps his mouth closed.
But the money, though. That’s more than enough to fund his dream indie project, and playing the lead could be enough to shut up every skeptic who says he only gets roles because he’s “likable”.
God, this is insane.
The pay is obscene, the production timeline is aggressive but reasonable and the guaranteed promotion—international streaming deals, press tours—is the kind of exposure that launches careers into the stratosphere.
“You can’t be serious.” Chishiya murmurs.
“Deadly serious.” Kobayashi’s eyes sparkle behind those magnified lenses. “This is going to be the drama of the year. What am I saying, of the decade! You’ll both come out of it as household names. Or—” He shrugs, slowly looking away then back again with an ‘I told you so’ gaze. “—you could walk away. Let someone else have all the glory and legacy.”
Arisu looks at Chishiya.
Chishiya looks at him.
In that look, a thousand unspoken things pass between them. The rivalry. The competition. The one-upmanship. The disdain. The constant, exhausting battle to be better, to be at the top, to be more—
Chishiya turns back, voice slightly deadpan when he states, “You’re trying to buy us.”
“Of course I am! Bribery is the foundation of business culture.” Kobayashi has no problems admitting it. “But here’s the thing, Chishiya-kun. You’ve been doing supporting roles in action films for two years. Your last lead role was three years ago. A medical drama that got cancelled after one season.”
Chishiya’s eye twitches.
“And Arisu-kun.” Kobayashi turns to him. “You’ve been typecast as the quirky best friend since your last major breakout. You need a role that shows range. Romance shows range. And who better to play opposite than someone you actually can’t stand?”
“That sounds like a disaster.” Arisu mutters.
“Disasters are memorable. Mediocrity is forgettable.”
Arisu looks at Usagi. She gives him A Look—this is a great deal and you know it.
He looks at Ann. She’s on her phone, probably already calculating Chishiya’s potential profit.
He looks at Chishiya once again.
Chishiya is staring back.
“So.” Kobayashi says heartily. “What do you say, boys? Shall we make television history?”
Thick, crackling silence ensues.
Arisu and Chishiya keep staring at each other, and the air is ridiculously charged in that peculiar way it always is when they are forced into the same space—like two magnets that refuse to admit they are attracted and instead spend all their energy trying to repel.
Chishiya’s lips press into a thin line.
Arisu sees the crack, the hesitation.
“Oh, come on.” Arisu sneers, forcing a smirk onto his face. “Scared, Chishiya? Afraid you can’t keep up?”
Chishiya’s eyes narrow. “Afraid I’ll outshine you, Arisu? On screen and off?”
“As if. You couldn’t outshine a dying flashlight.”
“And you have the emotional range of a teaspoon. This role requires vulnerability. You? You’d break in the first episode.”
“I’d break you in the first episode.”
“Children.” The director says, delighted. “Please. Save the chemistry for the cameras.”
Arisu and Chishiya glare at the director, then at each other.
“Fine.” Chishiya says suddenly, not looking away from Arisu. “I’ll do it.”
Arisu’s smirk falters. “What?”
“I said I’ll do it.” Chishiya’s own smirk is the sharp kind of dangerous. “If you’re man enough to sign up too.”
The challenge hangs in the air between them.
Arisu isn’t one to back down from a challenge, especially when it involves Chishiya.
“You’re on.”
Kobayashi claps his hands together with a sound not unlike a gunshot. “Excellent! This is going to be magnificent! The press conference is tomorrow, we’ll announce the casting then. Prepare for chaos, boys! Your lives are about to change forever!”
When they’re out of the building, Arisu lets go of a full breath, and turns to his manager expectantly. “I know what you’re thinking.”
The corners of Usagi’s mouth tip up.
“You’re going to star in a romance drama with Chishiya Shuntaro.”
“Yes.”
“The guy you’ve been feuding with for the past three years.”
“Yes.”
“The guy you called ‘a walking Instagram filter’ in an interview.”
“And I stand by that.”
Usagi is quiet for a moment—then she bursts out laughing.
“It’s not funny.” Arisu groans, resigned.
“You’re right, it’s hilarious.”
“Usagi.”
“You’re going to have to kiss him, aren’t you?”
Arisu’s eye twitches. “I’m going to pretend like I didn’t hear that.”
“Multiple times, on camera, with directors yelling, ‘again, but with more passion!’”
“I’m leaving.”
“For the next three months you’re going to have to look into his eyes and say romantic lines and pretend you don’t want to strangle him.”
Arisu stops walking. He turns to face her, very slowly.
“I hate you.”
Usagi grins, wiping a tear from her eye. “No, you don’t. You love me. I’m your manager. I’m the one who’s going to have to negotiate your therapy bills after this.”
Arisu groans, letting his head fall back.
“This is going to be a disaster.” He mumbles.
“Probably.” Usagi agrees, still grinning. “But it’s going to be an entertaining disaster.”