Amari Mao swears he has an upstairs neighbor, no matter what the rest of the tenants may think. He's never seen him, but he's certainly heard him.
"You're pulling my leg," Handa claims, sipping her beer. "That door hasn't been opened in ages. The dust's so thick there, you'd see a sparrow's footprints."
Shinkai and Otonari guffaw, slapping legs and leaning tipsily into each other.
"I'm telling you, someone lives up there! I've heard thumps and footsteps and stuff!"
"Then why haven't we seen someone ever go through the door before, huh?" Handa leans in, grinning shark-like, "I'm not saying you're a liar but if the shoe fits…" She raises her beer, throwing a smug look at him.
"Yeah, Amari! Why's no one seen this neighbor then?" Shinkai parrots.
"Mrs. Nakada says she's seen them before."
"Pshaw! Mrs. Nakada's deaf and half blind already. She wouldn't be able to tell a scarecrow and a person apart!"
"Don't disrespect your elders, Handa," Otonari knocks her foot with Handa's. Geez thanks, Otonari, you'll step up for Mrs. Nakada but not for me.
"Uh, whatever," Mao throws his hands up, just tired of this all. He drains the last of his beer and crumples the empty can in his hand. "I'm going to bed. I've still got work tomorrow."
"Aw, Amari, don't be like that," Handa rests her head on her hand, trying to woo him with her big doe-eyes, "We're just teasing."
"Yeah, yeah, I still got work in the morning," He stands up, tossing the can into the recycling bin. "Have a good night guys."
"Aw, come on Amari! It's all in good fun! If your man upstaris does end up existing," and in a much lower whisper of–which i think you're making up–, "I'll buy you a case of beer."
Mao just raised his hand, in lieu of a goodbye and went up the stairs. Handa was kind of an asshole but she wasn't so bad, tolerable most of the time. They were probably his closest friends since high school.
Mao went up to his apartment, a single bedroom apartment, floor three. The apartment building had two apartments per floor, only 4 floors high. Therefore there were only eight tenants. The building was in a not so nice district of musutafu, though not outright dangerous. Mostly it meant that the neighborhood was poor.
Their landlord was kind of a cheapskate, though Amari wasn't sure if that due to the state of his bank account or because of his personality. Bit of both, probably. He did replace windows when the villain of the month blew through, so he wasn't all bad.
The tenants were decent too. First floor had a single dad with his two kids and a lady Amari was pretty sure involved with gangs. The second floor had Otonori and Shinkai with his younger sister. Two rowdy bachelors who were joined at the hip, Amari is half sure that they're dating at this point, so they're no longer bachelors. The third floor has himself and Handa. The fourth floor had the "empty" apartment and Mrs. Nakada.
The quality of the apartments isn't downright deplorable but it's not great either. Rust is starting to creep into the building. The lights flicker. The A/C isn't reliable at the height of summer. But's it's fine, it's fine because the price isn't outrageous and regardless of the crimes that goes on around them, the apartment building hasn't been involved with anything so far.
So Mao toes off his shoes at the gekkan, stepping over his work boots. It's late, nearly 2 am and he needs to get up at six for his job at the local fish factory. He brushes his teeth, takes a drink from the sink and falls into his unmade bed.
Hopefully the "empty" apartment upstairs will be quiet tonight.
Creak. Creeeeeeak. THUD.
Mao wakes up, pulling his pillow over his head. He's always been a light sleeper and the neighbor upstairs has zero consideration–he peeks a look at this alarm–ugh, four in the morning! please, can you for once neighbor-san, have a normal sleep schedule?
Mao tries to go back to sleep but the man upstairs continues creaking around before there's a loud metallic crash. Silence for a moment before it restarts. It's somewhere half an hour before upstairs neighbor-san goes to sleep, but at this point, Mao is wide awake.
He sighs, turning over once again.
He does not end up sleeping, so he takes the time that morning to wash his dishes and actually make himself a nice breakfast of rice, eggs, pickled daikon and tuna out of the can. It's what constitutes as actually trying for him.
He takes early commuter train to the fish packaging factory, falling in-step with colleagues as he approaches the gate.
"Hey Amari! How are you?" Tanebo asks, grinning with her needle-sharp teeth.
"Mmph." Mao adjusts his satchel, "Upstairs neighbor kept me up."
"Oh really? I couldn't tell."
Yeah, yeah, it's so funny, his quirk is Fish Head, no the irony of him working at a fish processing factory doesn't escape him, no it's not cannabilism, and on and on it went. He's getting tired of it.
"Yeah, haha, I don't get eyebags, doesn't mean I'm not tired," He replies in a bland voice and just walks faster.
Just get through the day, Mao, just be part of the crowd.
He scans his ID card and walks into the building. This is life, it's monotonous and bland and a little hurtful. Just accept it.
Days, weeks, months pass and the creaking from the upstairs neighbor keeps happening, though at strange intervals. Mao might get waken up daily for two weeks but then there won't be any noise from it for a month. He still has never seen this invisible neighbor.
He thought that was bad–until the neighbor got a cat. It was the loudest cat he'd ever heard!
Just screeching, not even meowing, all the time! Screech, screech! Went the cat and never shut up.
It shut up whenever the neighbor was home though so now Mao knew when the neighbor was home which was approximately between 1 am and 6 am. Of course, now that the cat's shut up, the neighbor has to be start creaking!
It's a vicious cycle of sleeplessness. It's not a fun time.
Still doesn't have tangible proof that this man exists though, so he doesn't bring it up with Handa. He's petty enough to want a case of beer.
Mao occasionally walks upstairs, to look at the door. Dust, leaves piled into the corner, not even a mat where the man's apartment is. Mrs. Nakada has a cheerful pot of red geraniums by her door. It looks like it hadn't been swept in a while. Her arthiritis must be acting up.
Mao resolves to ask her if she needs any help with groceries or something, the next time he sees her, and goes back down.
The man upstairs is an annoyance and an idle mystery, just something to occupy his time.
Mao thought it'd been bad. It only got worse.
The man upstairs hasn't returned for days and the cat is screeching and meowing but its just growing quieter and quieter every day and screw this, but Mao has always been too soft for his own good!
He walks up to Mrs. Nakada and hammers on her door. She wouldn't be able to hear it any other way.
"Oh…?" The door creaks up, the old lady adjust her glasses while looking at him, "Amari-kun is that you?"
"Yes, Nakada-san, it's me, Mao Amari."
"Oh? So good to see you again," She reaches out to try to pinch at his cheeks, eh well what constitutes as cheeks, tugging a few times at the firm scales before letting her hands fall to his shoulder to pat weakly. "Eh? Well, what are you standing around for? Come in."
She shuffles back inside her apartment. It's musty and cluttered but it's got that grandparent smell and is overflowing with plants and old newspapers. It's homey.
"Here," She sets a cup of tea in front of him, "I just made a pot. Let me get whip something up for you."
"No, no, no, that's okay Nakada-san!"
"Nonsense, it's just a little something!"
In the end, she ends up serving him a full meal. It's got rice, sauteed tofu, miso soup, seaweed salad, picked plums, everything so basic and simple but so good.
It makes Mao miss his parents. Too bad they're divorced and live on seperate ends of the country.
"Now, Amari-kun, what brings you over?" Mrs. Nakada asks, patting her mouth with a napkin.
"Well, I was wondering if you've seen your next door neighbor recently?" He pitched his question in a loud voice. Her hearing isn't as it used to be.
"Oh? That young man? No, I haven't seen him recently. Why? Is something the matter?"
"Well he's got a cat and he hasn't been around in a while. I'm a bit worried for the cat."
"A cold? Oh no, the poor dear!" Mrs. Nakada stands up, ready to hustle up a warm bowl of soup or something.
"No, no, I said A CAT!" Mao repeats louder. He's pretty sure the man was solely nocturnal and was not in the apartment most of the time. No amount of knocking would make the door open, even if it was Mrs. Nakada. "I don't think his cat's been fed in a while?"
"Oh well then," Nakada stills, before starting to rummage once again, "We can still feed the cat."
"How? We can't break into his apartment."
It ends up being that they don't break into his apartment, but Mao gets to break into his apartment.
Very big difference.
They're standing out on his balcony, looking at the piping that goes up past his balcony and up to the roof.
"Well it seems pretty sturdy and you're so skinny! I'm sure you could just–" Mrs. Nakada makes a gesture that he really doesn't want to interpret as obscene–"up there."
"Uh."
"The locks on our balconies aren't that good either. Here, have this coin, all you have to do is just fit it into the center divot and turn." Mrs. Nakada gives him a grandmotherly smile, adjusting her glasses. Mao is getting the feeling she was definitely involved with something shady when she was younger. "Now, Amari-kun, get to it." She hobbled back inside, humming a song, to do… something.
Okay, climbing up a pole was easy right? They used to climb up ropes all the time in gym class.
It was not. It was so hard. Mao was way more out of shape than he thought. It took a lot of huffing and puffing and trying to scrambled over the edge of the balcony by using whatever toeholds he could get, but he got there. Eventually.
"Meoorrr!" He heard a muffled screech.
Despite it's grating calls, Mao could firmly say it was a pretty cute cat. A one-eyed black and white cat pawed at the glass door.
"Hold your horses, Screechie," Mao huffs, leaning against the balcony railing. The cat stood up on the door, dark curtains rustling behind it.
Mao crouches down, sticking in Mrs. Nakada's coin into the flimsy lock joint. It takes a few tries before he flips it open and slides the door open.
"Nah, nah," He pushes the cat back with his foot. "I am not letting you out." Thankfully the cat seems more interested in crowding and pawing at his pant leg, begging for treats.
Mao closes the door behind him, brushing past the curtains. He stares at the dimly lit apartment, not really seeing anything since he just came out of the sun.
"Yeah, this isn't going to work." He draws back the blackout curtains and the apartment is revealed to him. It's somehow both bare and cluttered. There are papers and boxes leaning against the walls or otherwise strewn haphazardly across the floor. The neighbor hasn't fully settled in yet, despite the fact Mao has been hearing him for three months now.
The only sign of life is a catbed and one of those automatic feeders which is empty.
"Aw poor thing," Mao leans down to scritch its head, "Let's get you something to eat."
Walking to the kitchen, he opens the fridge. Nothing but a bottle of soy sauce. He opens a cabinent. Bare. He ends up opening all of them, finding nothing in them except for one saucepan and a very dented ladle.
Absolutely nothing.
"What did I expect from a guy that didn't even unpack his boxes? Or a girl, I guess, you never know."
That meant he needed to climb back down to get a can of tuna or something and then climb back. Sighing, he squeezed himself back out to the balcony, while guarding the cat from making its escape and its pitiful meows.
He heaved himself up over the edge and swung a leg over. Balancing on the outside edge of the balcony railing, he reached out to the pipe running alongside it. And then the balcony railing fell away.
"Oh dear," Something sharp pokes him.
Mao groans, rolling over and is now very aware of the feeling that he was hit by a truck. Oh wait.
Falling of the fourth floor should do it.
"How am I even alive?" He pushes himself up to a sitting position.
WACK! "How dare you Amari-kun! What the hell were you doing falling off the roof?" Handa scowls, overly close to his face.
"Not the roof, fourth floor balcony crumbled beneath me." Mao gestured behind himself to the broken pieces of concrete and wood behind him.
"Oh shit, is Mrs. Nakada okay?"
"Nah, it was the other apartment."
"...what?" Handa looked at him like he had done more than just knock his head about, "The empty one? What were you doing, Amari?"
"It's not empty! It's got a cat in it!" Mao swoons and stumbles as Handa pulls him up.
"So you climbed up to the apartment for a cat that's stuck up on the balcony?"
"No, inside the apartment. 'Cuz my neighbor adopted it apparently."
"Riiiight, the neighbor you claim to hear but no one's ever seen before. You sure you're good Amari? Maybe we should go check for gas leaks or something?"
"Oh screw you Handa," Mao shrugs her off, mad that even now they're all doubting him–except Mrs. Nakada of course, "Even I can't make up a real physical cat that keeps meowing. Go up to the 4th floor and meow at it, it screeches like the devil. You can't miss it."
"Fine, I will!" Handa throws up her hands.
"Okay!"
"Okay!"
The two glare at each other before trooping up the stairs. Handa crouches at the door, knocking on it and hearing a returning mew-screech while Mao leans against the wall, all smug.
"See, what'd I tell you?"
"Ok, so there's a cat in it. That doesn't mean it couldn't have accidentally snuck into an empty unit." Handa says, an uncertain twist to her lips, hands crossed and resting on her hips as she considers the situation.
"It's been periodically screeching for month but the neighbor's been gone for a couple days now and it will not shut up. Like-" He gestures to the door, where the two of them can hear the muffled "skreeeeeow!" of the cat. "-also the neighbor's got boxes and stuff in there. Absolutely no groceries though."
"And how do you know?" Handa shoots him a skeptical look.
"Because the railing only fell over when I was going back down." Mao grins at her smugly, though it doesn't translate well to his fishy face.
"Why didn't just use the door?" Handa asks, looking at him like he's an idiot.
Mao blinks at her for a moment, processing her genius idea, before groaning, face-palming himself like the idiot he is.
"I could've used the door!"
They end up rescuing the cat later when Shin Mizuguchi, the single dad on the first floor, comes home from his job at the vet. His quirk allows him to made small handsized portals on any object, which comes is quite useful when it comes to removing random objects from the bowels of small animals without any surgical intervention.
He creates the portal right beside the doorknob, pushing his hand through to the other side and unlocking the door.
The cat immediately tries to make a break for it. Mizuguchi expertly blocks its little soccer-sized body, cancelling the portal and slipping in the apartment, picking the cat up into his arms.
"Aw poor baby," He coos at it, "You must've been so lonely and hungry in here!"
Handa and Mao slip in after him, Handa looking curiously around. It's the same bare-bones apartment, not really lived in except for the spare cushions on the living room floor and a banged-up coffee table serving as a desk. Handa moves to peek into the bedroom, and Mao follows her, his own curiousity rising.
The bedroom is just as sparse, nothing in there except a bed with unmade sheets and more boxes.
"How long has this neighbor lived here?"
"Um, like 4 or 5 months?" Mao can't recall the exact date, especially with how intermittently the neighbor seems to call home.
"It's really empty for someone who's lived in here for half a year." There's a sinking tone in Handa's voice, like she's realized something bad.
"Hey guys, is the guy dead in there or what?" Mizuguchi calls out, peeping over Mao's shoulder, holding a purring cat.
"Uh, no, just checking," Handa replies, smiling tightly as she turns around.
"Okay then let's get out of here." Mizuguchi says with a note of finality, deciding for them. "Mao, you'll take the cat–you're okay with cats, right? If the neighbor shows back up, you'll hear them first or they'll show up. We'll tell Nakada-san you're keeping the cat for now."
"I'm okay with cats–cats are not okay with me. They seem to think they can try eating my face." Mao eyes Screechie, single eye closed as it purrs happily in Mizuguchi's arms.
After a week, Mao can admit that Screechie's growing on him. Screechie is in fact, a she, and she seems to take great delight in waking him an hour before he needs to get up for work for food by screeching next to his ear hole.
Beyond the screeching, she's cuddly and hasn't tried eating him yet.
So Screechie isn't so bad as a roommate, even if she sucks as a neighbor.
"Here you go," Mao rasps, cracking open a can of tuna for her and setting it on the tile floor of the kitchen. Screechie winds around his ankles for a few moments as thanks before diving in.
Mao is awoken by Screechie, screeching excitedly across the room.
"Wha–?" He groans, shifting his neck to get a better look. There's a dark figure standing in front of his open balcony door.
He did not leave his balcony open.
The figure looks up, red eyes flashing in the night and their hair lifts in an unseen wind, white scarf fluttering around their form.
"Thanks for taking care of my cat." The voice is low, rough, masculine and exhausted.
Before Mao can even get a word out, between one blink and the next, neighbor-san is gone, the curtains fluttering with his departure.
Still sleep-addled, Mao turns over in his sleep, muttering, "Handa is never going to believe this."