Chapter Text
𖤓
Four in the morning. That’s the time displayed on your phone.
For many, that’s roughly the time others wake up, gearing up for a day of work or school. You however, that’s when you hope to be asleep by. The time just before the sun has a chance to peak above the horizon or the birds start their morning symphony.
It wasn’t always this way, nor do you remember when this routine became your norm. You tell yourself the life of a night owl is one of ease ─ a better way to live. You have unintentionally conditioned yourself into this lifestyle without knowing any better, and even then, you still can’t deny the positives feelings you get from it.
The nights feel as though they move slower than the day, and to you, it beats the alternative of selling your soul away to the 9-5 corporate job. Sure, you still had to go out and get a job ─ it’s an inevitable in life to those born without generational wealth to fall back on. Instead of some soul-crushing office job, you chose to become a model.
Not some high fashion runway Vogue or Louis Vuitton model, of course; that’d be a bit too much for your self-esteem to handle. Nor would you even want to be one, either.
You chose the side of modeling that gears more towards marketing, styling, or the occasional photoshoot here and there, but overall, as much work-from-home as you can get.
Your days typically begin sometime in the afternoon.
A cycle of waking up, feeding your cat, work, chores, whatever else you need to do before a night of indulging yourself with all your many hobbies before starting the cycle all over again.
Reality can be a blur at times with late night thoughts that make you question if you’re truly happy with how things are or if that’s just what you tell yourself to get through to tomorrow.
Putting your phone down on your nightstand, you made yourself comfy beneath layers of blankets in the highlight of your home, your bed.
Sleep is one thing you always look forward to. No thinking necessary or responsibility, just allowing your many dreams to consume you and feed that lust for adventure life can’t guarantee you. You’re more than ready to see what awaits you tonight. Maybe you’ll see dragons and knights, four-armed monsters and cursed beings, the possibilities are endless.
What more could you want?
All your hopes for that and more come crashing down when you wake with a jolt after having just fallen asleep, only to hear that the crash wasn’t a metaphor.
You groan, your voice burdened by your tired state. “Nooo, Tsumiki… come back– fuck.”
You stretch your arm out, feeling for your cat who decided to ditch you from the sudden noise and into one of her many hiding spots. The time on your phone now reads nine in the morning ─ a painful reminder to the cons of being nocturnal.
You’re the minority.
Through the thin walls of the old apartment building you live in, you can faintly make out whoever is disturbing your vampiric slumber, “What do you think, kid?” Their voice is deep, and smooth like honey yet ignites goosebumps down your back.
But wait, kid? As in a child?
Wouldn’t that be your luck.
You’ve been safe for a while with one side of your walls being vacant, but it seems luck has run out, and with a family no less. You only hope their day-to-day noise level is less than that of all the boxes and furniture being thrown around every second.
And just like that, your spare pillow is now your new best friend, sandwiched between your head and your arm to drown out the world.
At some point you managed to fall asleep again ─ if you can even call it that. A better description would be the state in-between, where you’re barely conscious yet still able to rest. By three in the afternoon, the alarm on your phone is your second rude awakening.
So much for any dreamworld adventures to make you forget the crushing weight of reality.
It’s beyond tempting to hit snooze and give it another shot, and maybe you could this time around, given the lack of noise emanating from the other side of the walls. Tsumiki however, says otherwise. With pinpoint accuracy, her tiny paws dig harshly into your bladder and every other vital organ as she impatiently mewls for her afternoon feast.
“Fine, I’m getting up,” you drawl out with a sigh, throwing aside the covers to your oh so warm cocoon…
No, no. Tsumiki needs her breakfast. Her needs always come first before your own, no matter what.
You crack open a can of wet food, adding in all your special additives to ensure she’s getting everything healthy her growing body needs. Once she’s good to go, you follow up with your own lackluster toaster meal, devoid of any extravagant sides. A trip to the grocery store is in order, but that can wait until after you’ve finished your work for the day.
Nothing beats getting all your chores done in the hours after waking up. That way, the rest of your day (read: night) is all for yourself and no one else. What better way to get everything finished too than by singing along to all your favorite songs with the occasional break to stretch.
By seven at night, you’re finished and dressed for the store. Some days you can bring yourself to look the part of a model, other times ─ like today ─ you’re too exhausted to care. So, you fit yourself in your choice of comfy clothes, designed by laziness, and without so much as a red sole on your preferred footwear. You’re going to the store after all, not some Hollywood premiere.
A glance through your peephole reveals an empty hallway, perfect for your liking. The less neighbors you have to pass by or talk to, the better. Once past the threshold, you spot the remnants of boxes just next-door, further proving to your dismay that you’re now stuck with someone on both sides of your home. Getting down the stairs and out the building proves just as easy. Excellent timing on your part to avoid homebound traffic, earning some peace and quiet on your walk to and from the store.
So you hope, at least.
On a better day you would’ve chosen an actual grocery store to go to, but for now, the closest convenience store will have to do. They’re convenient for a reason, might as well utilize it.
Despite only buying enough to last a few days, at best, you still end up with your arms full on the trip back. Each step you take leaves you cursing under your breath for not being able to afford a car. The world’s too expensive for a young, single woman without any family to get help from.
It’s already hard enough leaving the safety net of your home, and your tired arms now feel as if they’re ready to fall off. To top everything off, a lone man comes into sight, resting on the stairs to your building with a cigarette in hand.
He doesn’t look familiar, and in fact, a closer look from the nearby lighting reveals that he’s… actually quite handsome. Hell, he could be a model if he wanted to, and you’d be surprised if he wasn’t one already. His black hair falls neatly over his face, his physique unmatched from what you see around the hems of his black sweater. The scar down his lip adds an air of mystery, that at the same time raises some alarms in your head.
There’s always the chance he lives in the building. It’s not like you’re familiar with every tenant in the complex. But at the same time as previously established, you’re a young woman who’s walking all by herself, long after sunset. Anyone can be a murderer or kidnapper for all you know.
Best to just avoid him, and hope for the best.
You attempt to shuffle by him up the stairs, keeping your head held down and away, but his voice stops you right in your tracks sending a chill down your spine, “Need a hand with those?” He gestures to your bag with the hand that holds the foul cancer stick. There’s something familiar about him, but you can’t place it just yet. Not when your anxiety is shooting sky-high.
The bags tremble slightly in your arms as you turn partially to the man. “N-no, I uh…” You thickly swallow, mumbling softly after, “I’m okay, thanks.”
You move to continue up the stairs, but misplace your foot, fixing to tumble downwards only to be caught just in time by a pair of hands on each side of your shoulders.
“Woah, easy there. I don’t mind helping, doll,” he insists. You don’t protest when he reaches for the bags in one arm, too frozen in place to react beyond budding embarrassment. He opens the door to the building but stops, looking back at you. “You comin’?”
“Y-yeah.”
Great instincts, now let’s hope he’s not about inflict every crime in the book there is upon you. Ending up on the morning news in a body bag is not the type of modeling you had in mind.
His green eyes follow your form as you walk past him, silently thanking him for being chivalrous enough to hold the door open. You take the lead up the stairs, trying not to make it too obvious when looking back over your shoulder, praying he doesn’t pull a gun on you.
The smart choice would be to lead him to some other home in the building. For instance, someone that you’re familiar with to offer a sense of security. Unfortunately, you have about as many friends as you do cats.
Which in this case is… one. If you can even call your boss a friend.
Perfect.
The man quirks a brow as you arrive in front of apartment 4-C, your home. “Huh, looks like we’re neighbors.” He nudges his head to 4-D, the previously vacant housing. “Just moved in today,” he adds.
“Oh,” you reply, visibly stunned. Well that alleviates more of your worries and explains the familiarity you felt. The voice you had heard earlier in the day belongs to him. “I guess we are,” you laugh nervously, stumbling to unlock your door with unsteady hands.
You step inside, keeping the door parted for him to enter. He wastes no time following after, placing the bags down on the countertop in the kitchen alongside your own. Tsumiki runs into the room moments after, stopping to take a cautious sniff of the man’s ankle.
“Who’s this?” he asks, leaning down to pet the now-purring kitten with one thick digit. “Friendly cat you’ve got here.”
“Her name is Tsumiki,” you tell him, still unable to help how meek you sound. You can’t help but feel a bit more at ease with your cat’s quick approval of the man.
There’s a low hum from his throat with approval, “Cute name.” He picks her up into his arms, huffing out of amusement at all the air biscuits she starts making with her tiny little paws. His eyes meet yours unexpectedly, about stunning you in the process. “What’s yours?”
“Huh?”
He simpers. “Your name?”
You avert your gaze to your groceries, playing with the fabric of your sleeves as you tell him your name, no louder than a whisper.
“Even cuter,” he remarks, thankfully not making any comments on how flustered you must look right about now. He does wink however, not that you’re even looking his way to see it, but he does.“Name’s Toji Fushiguro.”
“Nice to meet you, Toji.” You offer up a smile, trying to keep your voice steady. “Thanks for helping with the bags, by the way.”
Toji’s eyes spark with subtle interest. “Told you it wouldn’t be a problem.” He pauses, momentarily looking around. “Guess I should get goin’ now before I’m late for work.”
At this time of night? Though it’s not like you’re one to talk, let’s be real.
He places Tsumiki gently back onto the ground, turning back to leave. You end up having to pick her back up in order to stop her attempt at escaping with him.
Betrayed by your own cat.
He tells you his goodbyes, turning the key into his own home, finalizing the fact that he is your new neighbor and not some degenerate criminal. Well, hopefully. You never know these days.
Maybe this whole thing won’t be so bad after all.
Tsumiki meows with evident disappointment, pawing away at your front door once back inside. It looks as though Tsumiki’s deemed him a green flag with her pawprint seal of approval. “Well, you seem to like him. Don’t you, girl?” She meows in response, and you can only imagine what her mews translate to in your tongue. The most likely answer would be a series of complaints for not making him stay longer to give her more attention like you don’t do that enough.
The remainder of your night is spent as usual, mostly tucked away on the couch, enjoying some quality TV time and whatever else you like to do. Tsumiki’s bakery works wonders on your stomach, kneading and purring away until the covers of sleep pull themselves up and over you, whisking you off to the world of dreams.
☆
The next day starts with a slew of curses leaving your mouth that could put a sailor to shame.
Your sleep deprivation caught up to you with impeccably awful timing, paired with a few missed calls from your boss, and a voicemail to match.
“I apologize for how late notice this is, but I need you in the office at three o’clock. We have a meeting with a prospective client, and they would like to meet you.”
Your eyes dart to the time registered on your phone as you listen in. The meeting is at 3 and it’s… 3:30.
Lovely.
You shoot up from the couch and into some much nicer clothing and whatever makeup you can scrounge to cover the bags resting below your eyes. With your purse in hand, there’s no time to even think about running into a neighbor as you leave. You exit the building like a bat out of hell, flying past Toji and his son on the sidewalk without even realizing.
He calls out your name, but you don’t respond nor even hear it over the sound of blood rushing in your ears, drowning out any and all outside noise.
His son looks on with confusion at the scene. “Rabbit…”
Toji stifles a laugh, “Might as well be one.” He follows you with his eyes, panning down to see that you’re running in heels of all things. It’s a wonder how a set of stairs almost got you the night before.
You aren’t sure how long you’ve been running for. Being as late as you are, there wasn’t any time to order a ride. At the very least, it’s not like your agency is situated in the heart of the downtown, so getting there by foot is doable.
By the time you do arrive, the client is long gone, and other employees are leaving their shifts as well. You make yourself as presentable as you can in what seconds you have to spare before entering his office to hear everything you missed.
In the midst of the discussion, you apologize, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Nanami. I swear it won’t happen again.”
“No matter,” his exhale comes in the form of a sigh. “The client is willing to excuse it this time, and it’s fortunate they still wish to advance to the next step with us.” For a second, you can see some underlying frustration in his eyes, believing yourself to be the cause. “There will be consequences if this happens again, I do hope you understand.”
You lower your head in shame. “Y-yes sir ─ thank you…”
Even if it it’s true your sleep was disrupted the day before from outside of your control, you still feel as though you’re the only one to blame. You could’ve set more alarms, taken a nap ─ or better, not stayed up till dawn.
You’re snapped from your thoughts by a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t stress, this will be good opportunity for you,” he reassures. “Now go home and rest, I’ll be in contact.” You nod, taking your leave from the office.
You take your time on the walk home, losing yourself in your mind once more. Staying up at night to enjoy the silence is nice and all, but is it worth setting yourself back? You can’t afford to lose your job, or worse, not be able to afford your bills and all of Tsumiki’s food and care.
Speaking of which, food was one of the last things on your mind, but upon seeing the neon lights of the convenient store, your stomach growls on cue.
“…Guess I’ll grab something then,” you mutter to yourself.
You scan each aisle, grabbing a few simple snacks, and eventually coming across a comfort food that would taste perfect right about now in place of a full meal. It’s nothing too fancy or expensive, just enough to quell your noisy stomach and anxious body.
“You were in a hurry this afternoon,” a gruff voice sounds from behind you. It startles you, enough so that you lose your grip on the item in your hands. Toji catches it effortlessly, observing the contents in his hand. “Shit, didn’t mean to scare you.”
You take a moment to catch your breath, letting the vicious thumping of your heart calm down enough to speak. “It’s okay, I’m sorry.”
Toji gives you a questioning look, examining your appearance with emerald eyes that practically see right through you. “Something happen?” he inquires.
“Oh, uh– it’s nothing important.” You wave him off, shifting your head to the side. You almost forget he’s even still holding onto your food when the next thing you know, he’s putting it into his own basket alongside whatever else he’s buying. “Um, Toji?”
“My treat.” He winks, moving ahead down the aisle expecting you to keep up.
“I can’t let you do that, it’s too much,” you plead.
“Doll, this is nothing,” he claims. “It won’t break the bank for me.”
You don’t try and argue further, resorting to pouting when he turns his back to you to grab a few other items. With this view, you’re able to take in more of his appearance.
This time, instead of black sweats, he’s fitted in dark jeans, an equally dark shirt, boots, and muted olive parka that goes wonderfully with his eyes. You had noticed his scar looked rougher up close, with a few more hide away on his skin, out of sight. Toji looks over his shoulder, inadvertently catching you staring at him. You blush, quickly averting your gaze to the ice cream selection at your side.
After checking out, you thank him, sticking close to his side on route back to your shared apartment complex. Toji stays silent for the first few blocks, occasionally glancing in your direction without you even realizing, as you do the same.
Normally you’d be content with the peace, but your mind says otherwise even if you have no clue what to talk about. He ends up being the first to speak up anyways, “What do you do for work?”
You figure he must be asking based on how your appearance, especially when you know now that he spotted you earlier. “I work in the fashion industry, mainly advertising…” your voice trails off into a more meek tone, “…also some modeling gigs here and there, believe it or not.”
He hums, acknowledging your words while sparing another glance filled with newfound curiosity. Given your self-confidence, you’re not quite sure what to make of the stare, wondering if he’s silently judging you.
“W-what about you?” you ask, mentally scolding yourself for stuttering.
“I’m a bartender over at a joint called Star Plasma. You should come by if you ever want a drink, I’ll make it special for you.” He briefly pauses, keeping his eyes directed at you while scratching the back of his neck. “You look like you could use one, did somethin’ happen?”
You stop dead in your tracks, looking down at the concrete path below. He stops just in front of you, half-turning to see the glossy coating on your eyes. “I…kind of got in trouble at work, all because of a stupid mistake.” One called not setting a proper alarm or having your phone not set to silent, you later realized.
“I know all about that,” he responds, and in a way, it’s reassuring. “Can’t be that bad if you still have a job, right?”
“Yeah, I suppose,” you slowly exhale. The next words out of your mouth are barely that of a whisper, almost completely inaudible, “I’m hating myself for it…”
Toji doesn’t say anything in the immediate moment, turning his head up to the flickering streetlamp overhead. After a minute he goes on to say, “Don’t beat yourself up, we all make mistakes.”
Tell that to a perfectionist.
“Come on then,” he urges. “Before the ice cream melts.”
You continue walking, muttering, “Right, sorry.”
“Don’t be, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
The two of you are quiet the rest of the way home. Once outside the front doors of your respective apartments, he holds out one of the bags for you to take.
“Here you go,” he says as you accept it from his hands. “I threw in a thing of ice cream too. Figured you might like some with the way you were staring earlier.” He smirks.
You glance into the bag and find a small tub of your favorite flavor tucked away. Your mouth parts in shock, the surprise evident on your features. “How did you know I like this flavor?”
“Lucky guess, I’m glad it paid off.”
Toji’s front door suddenly opens from the inside, and a young boy comes running out, latching onto the older man’s leg. One look is all it takes to see that he’s the spitting image of his father, save for the trademark scar on the lip and hair kept under control. The boy sees you and decides to shield himself behind his father, peering around his leg with a cautious expression.
“Megumi,” Toji kneels down, rubbing his hand along the course of his son’s spikey hair. “Meet our new neighbor,” he says, your name punctuating the sentence.
You smile, lowering yourself to his level. “Hi Megumi, it’s nice to meet you,” you greet.
He shuffles more behind Toji’s leg, and you can’t blame him for being nervous around strangers. He mumbles out, “Rabbit lady,” before darting back inside his home, leaving you surprised.
Toji eyes the door, sighing, “Sorry about that, he’s shy around new people.”
“No worries, he’s adorable,” you softly giggle, standing back up to normal height. “Thanks again for the food.”
Toji looks at you with slightly wider eyes, stunned by the sudden display of laughter. “Yeah, no problem. I’ll see you around then, neighbor.”
You wave goodbye, entering your own home and greeting Tsumiki who must’ve heard you through the door given how she’s right there waiting. Toji was right about the ice cream. Between that and the conversation you had with him; you’re already starting to feel better about the earlier turmoil.
Maybe being neighbors with him won’t be so bad after all.
☽