Chapter Text
“Fucking finally,” you groaned as you closed the application tab a bit too aggressively, your head already throbbing with the onset of yet another headache.
That made ten more applications sent off to ten more recruiters. Ten more you were almost certain were going nowhere.
It couldn’t be helped. Once you’d exhausted the pool of high-paying, high-stakes positions, you’d turned your attention to the ones you knew, without a doubt, you were overqualified for. Not because you expected anything to come from them, but because stopping altogether didn't feel like an option. Momentum, even fake, was still momentum. And really, what did you have to lose?
“I hate being an adult,” you mumbled to no one in particular.
If your livelihood didn’t depend on making money within the next few weeks, you wouldn’t be spending a gruesome three hours of your day staring at job listings and tweaking the same resume over and over again.
You pushed yourself off the bed and padded into the kitchen, rummaging around for a water bottle and painkillers. A knock echoed through the apartment just as you took a sip. You grumbled under your breath, already knowing exactly who it was, and turned on your heel, heading back to bed.
Another knock followed, firmer this time. Then you heard your name, called far too cheerfully for your current state. You burrowed deeper under the covers.
“If I ignore her long enough, she'll go away.” You reached for your laptop and hit play on the first YouTube video that loaded.
Three more knocks came in quick succession, followed by blissful silence. You relaxed, tension draining from your shoulders. But it lasted all of two seconds.
The unmistakable sound of a key turning in the lock snapped you upright, and you scrambled to your feet, cursing yourself because why had you ever thought giving her a spare key was a good idea?
You barely made it to the door before it swung open and Maki marched into your small studio, forcing her way inside with the same unapologetic determination she’d forced her way into your life with. She planted her hands on her hips as she glared at you. You glared right back.
Behind her, Yuta slipped in with a bag of groceries, already apologizing for his girlfriend’s erratic behavior.
“How much longer were you planning on ignoring our calls and texts?” she asked.
You sniffed. “Until you took the hint. If I’d known you’d escalate to breaking and entering, I would’ve changed my lock too.”
Yuta set the grocery bag down on the counter, then wandered over to your sleeping area and pulled back the curtains. You nearly screeched as sunlight flooded the apartment, blinding you momentarily.
“Sorry, sorry,” he said with a smile that you were fairly certain wasn’t genuine. “It was just so dark in here.”
“Maybe because I wanted it that way,” you muttered, squinting. “I swear you two love to torture me.”
“You look like shit.” Maki’s gaze dragged over your messy hair, disheveled robe, and pajama pants. Her brows knit together. “Did you lose weight?”
Before you could answer, she was already in your kitchen, yanking open cabinet doors one by one. You watched helplessly as her expression grew more unimpressed by the second at your collection of instant ramen, junk food, and snacks.
When she turned back to you, peering over her glasses, you shrank in on yourself. “There’s barely any real food in here,” she said, already opening the fridge. A carton of eggs, some milk, cheese, and a few takeout containers stared back at her. “This isn’t much better either.”
“Well,” you began, propping your arms on the counter, “when you’re surviving on savings, you don’t exactly have the luxury of choice.”
Something in her expression softened.
Yuta swooped in, already pulling ingredients from the paper bag and moving around your kitchen like he owned it—which he did. He effortlessly owned any kitchen he stepped into. “I’ll make you something a little more filling. We can’t have you starving on our watch, can we?”
You nodded, grateful, though you didn’t dare mention how long it had been since you’d last eaten something that actually qualified as a meal. Pride was a stubborn thing, and you were even more stubborn.
Maki sat down next to you as the clinking of pans and utensils filled the kitchen. She watched Yuta for a moment as he hummed quietly to himself, already deep in the process of making something that smelled far too good. Then she turned to you. You avoided her gaze on instinct, tugging your robe a little tighter around yourself.
“I haven’t seen you in days. How are you holding up?” she asked softly.
The question made something twist uncomfortably in your stomach, the same way it had every time she’d asked since the day you’d shown up at her door and told her you’d been laid off. It was stupid, really. The company hadn’t even paid you that well, even though you’d practically carried them on your back. You’d given them almost everything, only for them to sit you down one morning and tell you they were automating your position to stay competitive in the tech market.
You hadn’t argued. Hadn’t begged. You’d walked out that same day without finishing your work, convinced they wouldn’t last two months without you. And sure enough, watching their preliminary numbers crumble already had been satisfying, but not satisfying enough to outweigh the reality that you were unemployed. Your savings were dwindling faster than you liked, and beneath everything, panic lingered, small but persistent, threatening to grow into something unmanageable.
Maki waited patiently.
You sighed. You could lie, but she had one of the most terrifyingly accurate bullshit radars you’d ever encountered, and you knew she’d drag the truth out of you eventually anyway.
“I’m not sure,” you admitted. “I know I have the skills and the experience. I know what I’m worth.” Your voice dipped. “But it still sucks that no one seems willing to take a chance on me.”
Her hand settled on your shoulder. You tensed for half a second, then let yourself relax. “They don’t know what they’re missing, and honestly? Let them.”
“Someone else will see your potential and jump on it,” Yuta added over his shoulder, cheerful as ever. “Don’t let this bring you down.”
It was easier said than done, but you nodded anyway, making a mental note to delay asking for your spare key back. Not just because some good clearly came from it, but because you strongly suspected Maki had already made a copy and stashed it somewhere. Just in case.
Yuta set a plate of beef sukiyaki in front of you. Your stomach growled loud enough to embarrass you.
He sat beside Maki, and you dug in before they’d even had the chance to grab their own utensils. Maki shook her head, Yuta laughed softly, but neither of them said a word, letting you eat in peace.
“I’m so jealous that you can cook better than me,” you said in between bites. “This is actually chef-worthy. Thank you.”
He waved you off with a faint flush. “Don’t flatter me so much.”
Maki stood and fetched water for the three of you. “We’ll leave the rest of the groceries and leftovers here. I'd better see some meat on your bones by next week.” She took a sip. “When you’re done, get dressed. We’re going for a walk.”
You squinted at her. “Do I look like I go for walks?”
“No, you look like you need it.”
“It’ll do you some good,” Yuta chimed in. “You’ll go insane if you stay cooped up in here.”
They weren’t wrong. You wanted to fight back simply for the sake of fighting, but you knew Maki wouldn’t have it. Hell, she’d drag you out by the skin on your neck if she had to, and you did not have the physical strength to match hers.
After you finished eating, you retreated into the bathroom to freshen up and changed out of what you’d affectionately (not really) dubbed your mourning clothes. When you stepped back into the main room, Yuta was already at the sink, sleeves rolled up, and Maki stood by the front door with her arms crossed, clearly waiting.
“I’ll do some cleaning while you guys are out,” he said.
You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him he really didn’t have to, and that you’d be a terrible friend if you let him, but Maki grabbed your wrist and dragged you outside before you could. You hissed but followed after her.
The heat felt less stifling than you'd expected it to as you went down the flights of stairs separating you from the street level. Your complex wasn’t big. It consisted of only five floors, with the three of you living on the third. But it was quiet. Peaceful. A kind of stillness you’d once despised, having grown up surrounded by constant noise. Now, you welcomed it.
The street was empty and narrow. Neatly-trimmed bushes and trees lined both sides, their vibrant green breaking up the monotone cream exterior of the building. You glanced up just in time to see a woman hanging sheets over her balcony railing, the sight familiar in a way that grounded you.
With every step, the tension slowly bled from your shoulders. Fresh air filled your lungs, clearing your head in a way it hadn’t been in a long time. Locking yourself away in your apartment had done far more harm than good, even if you’d stubbornly convinced yourself otherwise. If your friends hadn’t intervened when they did, you weren’t sure there would have been much of your sanity left to salvage.
“You sold your TV?” Mai asked, pulling you back to the present.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice,” you joked, but when she shot you a stern look, you shrugged. “Yeah, along with a couple other things. Just to hold me over for a bit.”
“It’s okay to rely on others,” she said, concern bleeding through every word. “You can’t expect to shoulder everything on your own.”
You bit the inside of your cheek. “I know, but old habits die hard. It’s hard to change when that’s been how you’ve operated for so long.”
“Well, Yuta and I aren’t your parents.” She stopped by a bench and sat down. You joined her as a gentle breeze passed between you. “You don’t have to be scared of asking us for help. We really care about you.”
“I appreciate that,” you muttered. You decided to change subjects before that ball in your throat could grow. “How’s Mai, by the way? I suppose she isn’t too happy about me ignoring her texts either.”
Maki snorted. “Damn right about that. She said if you ignore her again, she’ll fly back to Tokyo just to break down your apartment walls."
You laughed, something short and genuine. “I believe her.”
"Aside from that, she’s doing as well as she can.”
You fell into comfortable conversation. Maki filled you in on everything you’d missed, which you realized was a lot more than you’d thought. Yuta had moved up to junior chef at the restaurant where he worked, though that meant he’d be working night shifts more often. Mai’s phone was back on after nearly two weeks of silence, and she was supposedly planning to come back to Tokyo soon, this time to find something more stable—and especially something that didn’t require her to be away for months at a time. And Maki herself was considering taking time off to visit one of her cousins, Megumi. Her family dynamic was even more complex than yours, but you knew Megumi was one of the very few ones she got along with.
Your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pulled it out, thumb hovering for a moment before tapping the notification. You paused.
Takuma Ino.
You hadn’t thought about him in ages. But it wasn’t his sudden reappearance that made your heart skip. It was the message.
Ino: Hey! Hope you’re doing well. I tried reaching out when I heard about the layoff, but I’m not sure if you saw my message. Either way, if you’re still on the market, there’s a vacancy in our department. We’re looking for a Process Innovation Specialist, and I recommended you for the position. No pressure, but I just wanted to give you a heads-up before HR contacts you. Would love to work with you again!
Your spine straightened so fast you nearly toppled off the bench.
Maki turned to you immediately. “What happened?”
Ino had been one of the few coworkers you’d genuinely liked. He was kind, competent, and all-around drama-free. The two of you had clicked immediately, and he made that awful company a little more bearable. When he’d left for Jujutsu Tech, you’d been disappointed, but not surprised. He’d always deserved better, and you were glad he was getting that.
And now, he’d personally recommended you for a role that matched your qualifications to a T, at a well-known company. One where you could actually grow, expand, and matter. It felt unreal and fragile after weeks of reading rejection emails.
You stood abruptly, turning to Maki with a wide grin. “Either you’re my lucky charm, or life has finally decided to take pity on me.”
She raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. “Between us? I’m pretty sure it’s me.”
You rolled your eyes but waved her over as you started walking. “Come on. You and Yuta are going to help me prep for this interview. And if I get the position, I’m treating you both to whatever you want.”
“When you get the position,” she corrected, looping her arm through yours in one of her rare displays of affection and tugging you along faster. “And don’t worry. We’ll make sure you ace it.”