Work Text:
Arisu really didn’t plan for today to be this chaotic.
It was supposed to be simple: Walk into the bank, withdraw his savings, and finally, finally secure an apartment far away from his father’s silent (loud) disapproval. It was mundane. It was normal. He should’ve known fate had other plans.
Because of course, the moment Arisu takes a seat in the dreaded waiting area—because why would anything be efficient—he spots him.
Chishiya fucking Shuntaro.
Slouched in a chair, flipping disinterestedly through a pamphlet on home loans, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. His hoodie is pulled up, silver hair peeking out, and those sharp eyes flick upward—directly toward Arisu.
Oh.
Arisu freezes. They know each other. They died together. Or, well, almost. Which is a weird thing to reconcile when staring at someone in broad daylight, fluorescent banking lighting washing out Chishiya’s already pale features.
Before he can overthink it, Chishiya lifts two fingers in a lazy salute. “Oh. Hey.”
Arisu wheezes. “Hey?”
Chishiya hums, tossing the pamphlet aside. “What’re you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same—”
BANG.
The sound of the bank’s glass doors slamming open cuts him off.
Arisu instinctively jerks in his seat—old Borderland reflexes flaring—as a man stumbles inside, wild-eyed, gripping a gun.
“EVERYONE ON THE GROUND!” The would-be robber screeches.
Silence.
Arisu blinks.
The man’s mask is a bandana. Like something out of a bad Western. His boots squeak on the floor as he flails the gun. “I-I said DOWN!”
A beat. Then, slowly, patrons and tellers lower themselves to the floor.
Chishiya doesn’t move.
Arisu stares at him, horrified. “Chishiya.”
“Hm?”
“Get down—”
“Nah.” Chishiya tilts his head, studying the robber with clinical detachment. “He’s not going to shoot.”
“How do you know that?!”
“Look at his grip. He’s holding it sideways, like an amateur. And he’s sweating through his shirt.”
The robber, now fully panicked, whirls toward them. “SHUT UP! I’ll-I’ll shoot!”
Chishiya yawns.
Arisu’s soul briefly leaves his body.
Then, in the same tone one might use to discuss the weather, Chishiya turns to him, says. “Cool. Wanna go on a date?”
Arisu chokes. “WHAT.”
“After this. Dinner. You pick.”
“There’s a gun—”
“Mmh. So?” Chishiya’s lips quirk. “You busy?”
Arisu’s brain short-circuits. The robber, now thoroughly ignored, lets out a whimper. Chishiya turns his head, analyzing him like a mildly interesting bug.
“Pro tip.” He says, perfectly calm. “If you’re going to rob a place, commit. Walk in like you own it. And never announce yourself. Also, stop yelling. Confidence is quiet.”
Arisu hisses. “Why are you coaching him?!”
Chishiya shrugs. “Just helping.”
The robber gapes. His hands shake harder. “I—”
Chishiya sighs and stands. Arisu yelps, grabbing his sleeve.
“Sit down—!”
Chishiya doesn’t. He takes a step forward. The robber stumbles back, gun wavering.
“You won’t use that.” Chishiya says, bored. “Because if you did, you’d already be running. You’re scared. You fucked up.” A pause. “And the cops are probably outside by now.”
Sirens blare in the distance.
The robber bursts into tears.
Arisu, still half-crouched with a death grip on Chishiya’s sleeve, wheezes out. “What is your life?”
“A movie.” Chishiya deadpans. Then glances at him, lips lifting at the corners. “But better now that you’re in it.”
Arisu blushes.
Ten minutes later, as the police drag the sobbing robber away, Arisu is still shaking. Chishiya pockets his hands, blissfully unbothered, and nudges him.
“So. Dinner?”
Arisu groans into his hands. “…Do you like ramen?”
Chishiya smiles.
(They leave before the police can question them. Some habits die hard.)
The ramen shop is cozy, tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. Arisu picks at his noodles, still reeling from the day’s events.
“You.” He says, pointing his chopsticks at Chishiya. “Are insane.”
Chishiya slurps his broth, unbothered. “You say that like it’s news.”
“You coached a bank robber.”
“He needed the help.”
“He had a gun!”
“And yet, here we are.” Chishiya tilts his head. “You’re cute when you’re stressed.”
Arisu’s face burns. “Shut up.”
Chishiya smirks.
The night air is cool as they walk side by side. Arisu shoves his hands in his pockets, glancing at Chishiya.
“So.” He says. “Why were you at the bank?”
Chishiya hums. “Withdrawing money.”
“For?”
“A new apartment.”
Arisu blinks. “You too?”
Chishiya nods. “Figured it was time.”
Arisu laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah, same.”
“By the way.” Chishiya says. “If you ever want to rob a bank—”
“No.”
Chishiya grins.
They walk in comfortable silence for a while before Chishiya suddenly stops under a streetlamp.
“So.” He says, turning to face Arisu with that infuriatingly calm expression.
Arisu braces himself. It's never good when Chishiya looks that harmless.
“Wanna go live together?”
Arisu chokes on air. “WHAT.”
Chishiya tilts his head. “We're both apartment hunting. We've survived multiple death games. We clearly have compatible survival instincts.” A pause. “And you grab my sleeve very intimately during crises.”
“That—that was ONE TIME—”
“Today.”
“That doesn't—” Arisu flails. “You can't just—people don't propose cohabitation after a BANK ROBBERY—”
Chishiya shrugs. “More efficient this way. We skip the awkward dating phase.”
“There was nothing awkward about you asking me out while a man cried with a gun!”
“Exactly.” Chishiya steps closer. “Imagine what we could accomplish with our combined skills.”
“Your skills include critiquing felonies—”
“And yours include having a moral compass. Balance.”
Arisu opens his mouth—closes it. Rubs his temples. “...This is the worst idea you've ever had.”
“I once stabbed a man with a scalpel during a card game.”
“SECOND worst.”
Chishiya's eyes gleam. “I'll take that as a yes.”
“It's NOT a—”
“Rent's cheaper with two people. You hate your dad. I hate...walls with bad insulation.”
Arisu stares. “You're literally making up reasons—”
Chishiya pulls a key from his pocket and dangles it. “Viewing appointment tomorrow. 10 a.m. Bring coffee.”
“You ALREADY—?!”
(Spoiler: They sign the lease. Arisu complains the entire time. Chishiya places a single framed photo of the bank’s security camera footage on the shelf. Domestic bliss.)