Chapter Text
Mikoto POV
It was a night like any other where Mikoto had returned home from another one of his late-night shifts.
He took his keys out of his tote bag, his keychains clashing against each other as he unlocked the door. Mikoto was greeted by the dark corridor of his fairly small flat. He turned the light switch on as he sighed. He walked over to his desk, covered in piles of documents. He moved them aside, pulling his laptop out of his tote bag and placing it on the desk. He threw himself into his chair, typing his password. The words “Update in progress…” lit up on his screen.
Mikoto got off of his seat, walking over to his fridge. He opened the door and took out an energy drink.
He couldn’t function without energy drinks.
He closed the fridge door and headed towards his desk, hoping his laptop would be updated by now. Thank goodness, it took way less time than he anticipated. He sat on his chair, pulling himself closer to the table.
Just as he was about to get to work, he heard yelling coming from upstairs. Mikoto checked the time on his laptop.
2:58 A.M.
Mikoto rubbed his eyes in disbelief. He then checked the time again. “What the hell…?” he muttered under his breath.
Am I hearing things? He thought. He couldn’t imagine why anyone would be that loud at this hour.
He returned to work, but just as he was fully absorbed, a deafening, screeching yell cut trough the silence when Mikoto expected it the least. He checked the time again; 3:47 A.M. now. He blinked in confusion. Mikoto wanted to know what was going on upstairs. Was someone getting beaten to death? Should he call 911?
He wanted to ask what this guy’s deal was, yelling like that at this hour. The work he needed to get done suddenly felt irrelevant compared to the noises upstairs.
He didn’t know who his upstairs neighbor was; or just any of his neighbors in general. He just knew some neighbors here and there, but he didn’t talk to them enough to actually call them friends.
He wanted to find a way to communicate with this guy. He thought it through, then he got an idea. He changed his mobile hotspot’s name into:
“Apt309ULoudAsf”
Mikoto grinned.
Fuuta POV
Fuuta leaned closer into his screen. His grip around his mouse tightened. He’d been grinding Fortnite for the past week, trying to finish the battle pass before the season ended.
“I got this… I got this!!” he exclaimed.
Fuuta fired when he saw a figure behind the rock.
“You’re done. Oh yeah. That’s what you get.” He muttered, in an ironic tone.
Just as he thought that this was it, his screen flashed.
#2
He didn’t get victory royale. The camera shifted to the other guy, who just killed Fuuta.
He started emoting right there.
Fuuta slammed his palm against the desk aggressively.
“Dude. Are you fucking joking?”
“I did all that, just to lose to someone with a Sabrina Carpenter skin?” He yelled.
Fuuta shoved his chair back slightly.
“That was literally my game!”
He stared into his screen absentmindedly, clicking his tongue.
“Yeah, okay. Sure.” He mumbled in irritation, as he queued for another match.
Fuuta sighed. He leaned into his desk a little.
Maybe my internet is bad. Did I lose because I was lagging? There’s no way I lost that otherwise, right? Fuuta thought, moving his cursor to the Wi-Fi tab.
He clicked on the Wi-Fi tab, scanning the available networks.
His eyes paused on one.
“Apt309ULoudAsf”
Fuuta blinked.
“…The fuck?” he hissed.
“That’s… Me?”
He stared at his screen blankly. Then his expression hardened.
“Seriously?” He scoffed.
“That must be downstairs huh… Instead of doing this passive aggressive shit, say it to my face. If you can, that is.”
Fuuta straightened in his chair, opening his hotspot settings.
He quickly changed the name of his hotspot.
“Apt??SayItToMyFace#309”
Fuuta leaned back, crossing his arms.
“…Let’s see if you got the guts.”
Mikoto POV:
Mikoto yawned and stretched like a cat in his chair. He checked the time.
4:17 A.M. He stared at the screen, his eyes half-lidded.
“Well, that’s enough work for today, I suppose.” He said.
Just as he was about to close his laptop and head off to sleep, he remembered about the guy upstairs. He was so lost in his work that he forgot about everything.
He quickly clicked on the Wi-Fi tab, hoping that the guy upstairs would’ve seen it already.
He scrolled through the network options until he saw one that caught his eye.
“Apt??SayItToMyFace#309”
“Uh huh. So he did see it.”
Mikoto let out a quiet breath, more tired than anything.
“Say it to my face, huh…”
He closed his laptop with a soft click.
“…Fine.” He muttered.
Mikoto pushed his chair back, got his keys and put his slippers on. He headed towards the door.
He stepped out, closing the door behind him. He made his way upstairs without thinking much about it. Just ignoring the possibility of his neighbor being an organ harvester or something like that.
He walked through the long hallway until he saw Apartment 309.
Mikoto stopped in front of the door, hesitating before knocking. He knocked once, then twice. There was no answer.
Mikoto chuckled softly at how this same guy who just told him to “say it to my face” was acting like a scaredy cat and not opening the door. At this rate, Mikoto was losing patience.
Just as he was about to turn away, he heard footsteps approaching from inside.
The door opened slowly, with a faint creak.
“…What?”
He had messy ginger hair, almost like he had ran his fingers through it a hundred times. His hoodie was slipping off of one shoulder. His grey eyes locked straight onto Mikoto. He looked irritated.
Mikoto forgot what he was going to say.
“Uhm.. You’re 309,” He blurted out a few words.
“…Yeah,” Fuuta replied. “And you’re the Wi-Fi smartass who cant mind his own business.”
Mikoto exhaled quietly. He leaned against the doorframe a little.
“Yeah, you were being loud.” he stated.
“I wasn’t being loud. I was just expressing myself.”
“At 3 A.M.”
“Yeah. So what? Time isn’t even real.”
They just stared at each other. Mikoto wasn’t even annoyed anymore, he was just mildly entertained.
“You told me to say it to your face,”
Fuuta scoffed. “Didn’t think you actually would.”
“Mm.”
Fuuta leaned against the doorframe.
“…So? You came up here to complain? Are you going to file a complaint against me or what?”
Mikoto tilted his head slightly.
“Nah.. I was just curious.”
“What do you mean?”
“You sounded like you were being murdered.” He let out a soft laugh.
Fuuta paused.
“Huh…”
“Yeah. What were you up to?”
“Excuse me? How is that any of your business?” He barked.
“Let me guess… were you losing in a game?” Mikoto raised a brow.
“…Second place,” he muttered.
“Yeah, that explains it.”
“Oh, shut up.”
Mikoto laughed.
“…You’re still playing?” he asked, just talking to talk.
“Yeah. Battle pass.”
“At four in the morning?”
“Hey. Don’t judge me.”
“I’m not, though.”
He really wasn’t.
If anything, he found Fuuta kind of cute.
All bark, no bite, sweet little keyboard warrior Fuuta.
There was silence for a bit. Then Mikoto spoke up;
“…I’m Mikoto.”
“…Fuuta.”
Mikoto nodded. That’s a fitting name, he thought.
“…So what now? You gonna file a complaint?”
Mikoto shook his head.
“No.”
“Then?”
“…Just keep it down next time.” Mikoto said softly.
That wasn’t the reaction Fuuta expected at all.
“I’ll try.” Fuuta muttered. He meant it.
Mikoto nodded, pushing himself off of the doorframe.
“Good night, Fuuta.”
“Night.”
Mikoto turned away, heading back towards the stairs.
When Mikoto got back to his apartment flat, he didn’t check the time.
Ginger hair, grey eyes he thought absently, as he lay on his side. He scoffed.
“Get it together.”
The rest of his night passed in silence.
Fuuta POV:
Fuuta flopped back into his chair, grabbing his headset.
He stared into his screen for a bit longer before queuing up again.
“…Mikoto,” he mumbled under his breath. “Hmm. That’s a nice name.”
The hours passed without Fuuta really noticing.
He rubbed his eyes.
“…Morning already?” Fuuta said. He checked the time on his phone.