Kishibe knew exactly where to find you. Both of you had sworn it was over, that you wouldn't see each other again, yet there you were - sitting in his favorite bar, as if silently asking to be discovered.

"Won't you date me?" he asked, taking a seat next to you. His question was almost sarcastic, rhetorical. He knew how to rile you up until you were burning with pure anger. The countless times you'd done this before - shared a drink, a conversation, a night together - only to argue and part ways again, each time swearing it was the last. It was a never-ending cycle of coming back to each other, no matter how poisonous it was.

"Aren't I warming up to you?" Kishibe glanced at you, the corners of his lips lifting into a slight smirk as he took a sip from the glass the bartender had just handed him.