The city buzzed with life as people hurried through the crowded streets, a cacophony of horns, chatter, and footsteps filling the air.
Izuna Kyouhei ambled along, his backpack slung lazily over one shoulder. In his mid-twenties, Izuna was the definition of carefree—a freelance illustrator who thrived in chaos. His messy black hair, slightly oversized hoodie, and perpetually calm demeanour made him look like someone who just rolled out of bed, which was often true.
“This city never sleeps, huh?” he muttered, popping a pair of earbuds into his ears. He wasn’t in a rush, even though his apartment lease had ended that morning, and he had yet to move into his new place. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
On the other side of town, Airi Shinonome marched purposefully down the sidewalk, her phone glued to her ear. Dressed in a sharp business outfit, her sleek chestnut-brown hair tied neatly into a ponytail, she exuded control and efficiency. A marketing manager at a fast-paced start-up, Airi was always busy, always on top of things.
“I expect those reports by tomorrow morning,” she instructed her team over the phone, her tone brisk but professional. Despite her commanding demeanour, there was a faint hint of exhaustion in her emerald-green eyes. “And don’t forget to double-check the numbers.”
Today, however, Airi had something exciting to look forward to—her new apartment. A place of peace and order, away from the chaos of work.
Fate—or bad luck—decided to intervene at the intersection of two busy streets. Izuna, distracted by a cat video on his phone, and Airi, scrolling through her work emails, collided with each other.
“Whoa!” Izuna exclaimed, stumbling backward.
“Watch where you’re—ah!” Airi yelped as her heel slipped on a stray plastic bag. She fell forward, her hands flailing.
Izuna tried to catch her, but his own balance betrayed him, and the two tumbled to the ground in a heap.
The world seemed to slow down as Izuna’s hand accidentally landed… squarely on Airi’s chest. Worse, in his frantic attempt to get up, he unconsciously squeezed.
Twice.
Airi’s cheeks flushed crimson, her emerald eyes wide with a mixture of shock and something she couldn’t quite identify.
“W-What do you think you’re doing?!” she shrieked, shoving him off.
Izuna scrambled to his feet, his face a mix of embarrassment and panic. “I-I didn’t mean to! I was just—wait, why does it feel—”
“DON’T FINISH THAT SENTENCE!” Airi’s voice rose an octave as she hugged her chest protectively.
An awkward silence followed, broken only by the amused chuckles of passers-by who had witnessed the scene.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Izuna said, scratching the back of his head. “It was an accident!”
Airi glared at him, her face still red. “You better hope I never see you again.”
Hours later, both Izuna and Airi arrived at their new apartment, blissfully unaware of the twist awaiting them.
Izuna pushed open the door, marvelling at the spacious living room and large windows. “Not bad! This place is way better than my old one.” He tossed his backpack onto the couch and began exploring.
At the same time, Airi entered from the opposite hallway, a look of satisfaction on her face. “Finally, a place where I can have some peace,” she muttered, setting down her luggage.
The two met in the living room, freezing mid-step.
“You?!” Airi exclaimed, pointing at Izuna.
Izuna blinked, then grinned sheepishly. “Oh, hey! Small world, huh?”
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice sharp.
“Uh, living here?” he replied, holding up his key.
“Impossible,” Airi snapped, pulling out her own key. “This is my apartment!”
The realization hit them like a ton of bricks. They both whipped out their leases, and sure enough, the same address was printed on both.
“That shady real estate agent tricked us!” Airi groaned, her perfectly planned life crumbling before her eyes.
Izuna scratched his head. “Well… I guess we’re roommates now.”
“Absolutely not!” Airi shot back. “I refuse to live with a clumsy, irresponsible guy who—” She faltered, recalling their earlier encounter. “—who doesn’t respect personal space!”
“Hey, it’s not like I want to live with a control freak,” Izuna retorted, crossing his arms. “But we don’t have much choice, do we?”
After a heated argument, they reluctantly agreed to share the apartment, setting strict boundaries and rules:
1. No entering each other’s rooms without permission.
2. Divide chores evenly.
3. No touching. Especially no touching.
As Airi stormed off to unpack, Izuna flopped onto the couch with a sigh. “This is gonna be interesting,” he muttered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
In her room, Airi leaned against the door, still flustered from their earlier encounter. “Why do I feel so weird?” she whispered, shaking her head.
Little did they know, their accidental meeting was only the beginning of a rollercoaster journey filled with chaos, laughter, and maybe even a little romance.
The next morning, the apartment buzzed with tension as Izuna and Airi began their first day as unwilling housemates.
Airi woke up early, as always, ready to tackle the day. Dressed in an elegant blouse and pencil skirt, she had her morning routine down to a science: coffee brewed, breakfast prepared, and emails checked—all by 7:30 AM.
Izuna, on the other hand, stumbled out of his room at 8:00 AM, yawning and scratching his messy black hair. Wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, he looked like someone who had barely survived a natural disaster.
“Morning,” he mumbled, heading straight to the fridge.
Airi glanced up from her laptop, her expression already annoyed. “Do you have to look like that?”
“Like what?” he asked, opening the fridge and pulling out a carton of milk.
“Like you just lost a fight with your bed.”
“Hey, this is peak comfort,” Izuna shot back, pouring milk directly into a bowl of cereal. “Not all of us wake up ready to take over the world.”
Airi rolled her eyes but refrained from commenting further. She had a client presentation to prepare for, and Izuna’s chaos was the least of her concerns.
The real trouble began when they both reached for the toaster at the same time.
“Excuse me,” Airi said, her voice tight.
“No problem,” Izuna replied casually, stepping back. Unfortunately, his oversized hoodie sleeve knocked over Airi’s perfectly prepared coffee cup.
The mug tumbled off the counter in slow motion, its contents splattering across the tiled floor—and onto Airi’s pristine white blouse.
Airi froze, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
“Oh no,” Izuna muttered, grabbing a roll of paper towels. “I’ll clean it up!”
“Don’t bother!” Airi snapped, her voice a mix of anger and despair. “This blouse is ruined!”
“Hey, it’s just coffee,” Izuna said, handing her a towel.
“Just coffee?!” Airi glared at him, her emerald eyes practically glowing. “This is my favourite blouse! And I have a meeting in an hour!”
Izuna raised his hands defensively. “Okay, okay, calm down. I’ll help you fix it.”
“How?” Airi shot back. “You’re the reason it’s ruined!”
Izuna thought for a moment, then grinned. “I have an idea.”
Fifteen minutes later, Airi stood in the living room, looking at herself in the mirror.
Izuna had helped her turn the coffee-stained blouse into a makeshift sleeveless top by cutting off the sleeves and adding a decorative scarf around her neck to hide the stain.
“This… actually works,” Airi admitted reluctantly.
“Told you I’m good under pressure,” Izuna said, leaning against the couch with a smug expression.
Airi sighed, brushing her ponytail over her shoulder. “You’re still on thin ice.”
Later that evening, the two settled into their new routines—or tried to.
Airi had declared the living room off-limits during her “focus hours,” which Izuna promptly ignored by sprawling on the couch with his gaming console.
“Can you turn that down?” Airi called from her desk, her fingers flying across her keyboard.
“It’s on mute,” Izuna replied, waving the controller in her direction.
Airi sighed, rubbing her temples. “How do you even function?”
“Talent,” Izuna said with a grin, not taking his eyes off the screen.
Airi decided to ignore him, focusing instead on her work. But just as she started to get into the zone, a loud crash echoed from the kitchen.
“What now?” she muttered, hurrying to investigate.
She found Izuna standing amidst a mess of pots and pans, holding a dripping ice pack.
“I was trying to grab some ice cream,” he explained sheepishly.
“For the love of—” Airi pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re impossible.”
Despite the chaos, Izuna decided to make amends.
That night, Airi returned to the living room to find a neatly folded apology note on her desk, accompanied by a bowl of ramen.
“Sorry for being a disaster. Here’s dinner on me—Izuna.”
Airi stared at the note, then at the ramen. She hesitated, her irritation battling with the faintest hint of amusement.
With a small smile, she sat down and took a bite. It wasn’t perfect, but it was surprisingly thoughtful.
In his room, Izuna smirked, satisfied. “See? I’m not completely useless,” he muttered, turning off his console.
The next morning, things felt… different. The tension hadn’t disappeared, but it was softer somehow.
Airi still labelled the kitchen cabinets, and Izuna still ignored the labels, but they exchanged small smiles when their paths crossed.
Maybe, just maybe, living together wouldn’t be completely terrible.
The third day of their cohabitation began with a tense silence. Airi was seated at the dining table, sipping her meticulously brewed green tea, while Izuna sat across from her, munching on toast as crumbs rained down onto his hoodie.
“I’ve been thinking,” Airi said, breaking the silence.
“Uh-oh,” Izuna replied, his mouth full. “Thinking usually means more rules.”
Ignoring his comment, Airi placed a neatly written list on the table and slid it toward him. “We need house rules if we’re going to survive this arrangement.”
Izuna picked up the paper, scanning it lazily. “Rule 1: No leaving dishes in the sink. Rule 2: No gaming after 10 PM. Rule 3: No entering each other’s rooms without permission…”
He raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? What am I, in grade school?”
“Your behavior suggests otherwise,” Airi quipped, crossing her arms.
Izuna smirked. “Alright, if we’re making rules, I get to add some too.”
Airi blinked. “Fine. What do you have in mind?”
He grabbed a pen, scribbled on the paper, and handed it back.
“Rule 4: No obsessive labelling. Rule 5: Don’t nag me when I’m working. Rule 6: Mandatory pizza night every Friday.”
Airi stared at his additions, her lips twitching. “Pizza night? How is that a rule?”
“It’s a survival strategy,” Izuna said with mock seriousness. “Besides, it’s the only way to ensure we don’t starve.”
Airi rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. “Fine. But if you miss cleaning duties even once, I’m rescinding pizza night.”
“Deal,” Izuna said, extending his hand.
She hesitated for a moment before shaking it, their fingers brushing briefly. The contact was fleeting, but it left them both feeling a little awkward.
After their “truce,” the two spent the rest of the day trying to settle into their new dynamic.
Izuna, determined to prove he wasn’t a complete slob, decided to clean the living room. Unfortunately, his definition of “cleaning” involved stuffing everything into a single closet, which he then struggled to close.
“Done!” he announced proudly, collapsing onto the couch.
Airi walked in a moment later, her eyes narrowing at the suspiciously pristine room. “What did you do?”
“Magic,” Izuna replied, grinning.
Her gaze shifted to the closet, which was bulging ominously. “You didn’t.”
“I did,” he admitted, laughing.
Before she could scold him, the closet door burst open, and an avalanche of items spilled out, burying Izuna under a pile of random junk.
Airi pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering, “This is my life now.”
By evening, tensions flared again when Airi caught Izuna eating chips on her side of the couch.
“You’re in my spot,” she said, glaring.
“It’s just a couch,” Izuna replied, popping another chip into his mouth.
“It’s not just a couch—it’s my couch,” Airi snapped, grabbing a throw pillow and whacking him over the head.
“Hey!” Izuna protested, grabbing another pillow in self-defence. “This means war!”
What started as a simple argument quickly devolved into an all-out pillow fight, with feathers flying everywhere. Airi’s serious demeanour cracked as she laughed uncontrollably, dodging Izuna’s playful attacks.
For a brief moment, it felt like they weren’t housemates forced to live together but two friends having fun.
As the night wound down, the apartment was unusually quiet.
Airi sat at her desk, reviewing her notes for work, while Izuna lounged on the couch, sketching on his tablet.
“You’re surprisingly good at that,” Airi said suddenly, glancing at his screen.
Izuna looked up, surprised. “What, this? It’s nothing special.”
“No, really,” she insisted. “You’ve got talent. You should be more confident about it.”
Izuna scratched the back of his neck, uncharacteristically shy. “Thanks, I guess.”
Airi smiled faintly, returning to her work. Despite their differences, she was beginning to see a side of Izuna she hadn’t expected.
Maybe living with him wouldn’t be as impossible as she’d thought.
As the clock struck midnight, they both retired to their respective rooms.
Izuna lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. “She’s not as bad as I thought,” he muttered to himself.
Meanwhile, Airi sat on her bed, lost in thought. “He’s still a disaster,” she murmured, “but maybe he’s not entirely hopeless.”
Little did they know, their chaotic journey as housemates was just beginning.
The weekend arrived, and with it, a rare chance for both Izuna and Airi to spend the day at home. Airi was determined to make progress on her work presentation, while Izuna had grand plans for an all-day gaming marathon.
Naturally, their plans clashed almost immediately.
“Can you please turn the volume down?” Airi snapped, glaring at Izuna, who was glued to his gaming console in the living room.
Izuna paused his game, glancing over his shoulder. “It’s not that loud.”
“It’s loud enough that I can’t focus,” Airi countered, gesturing toward her laptop. “I have an important presentation to prepare for.”
“Fine, fine,” Izuna muttered, lowering the volume. He stretched out on the couch, making himself comfortable again.
Airi sighed and returned to her work, muttering under her breath, “How did I end up with him as a housemate?”
As the morning passed, the apartment settled into a tenuous peace. Airi typed away at her laptop in the dining area, while Izuna remained immersed in his game.
That peace, however, was shattered when the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” Izuna called lazily, pausing his game. He swung the door open to reveal a deliveryman holding a massive box.
“Delivery for Izuna Kyouhei,” the man said.
“Sweet!” Izuna exclaimed, signing for the package.
He carried the box into the living room and ripped it open, revealing a state-of-the-art gaming chair.
“Seriously?” Airi said, standing with her arms crossed. “You bought that?”
“Of course!” Izuna said proudly. “This baby’s going to revolutionize my gaming experience.”
“Great,” Airi deadpanned. “Just what we needed—more clutter.”
“It’s not clutter,” Izuna retorted. “It’s essential.”
Airi shook her head in disbelief. “Do you ever think about anyone but yourself?”
“Hey, I think about other people!” Izuna shot back. “I just prioritize what’s important.”
Airi gave him a pointed look. “Clearly.”
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
The real chaos began when Izuna decided to assemble the chair.
Within minutes, parts were scattered across the living room floor, and Izuna was crouched over the instruction manual, frowning in confusion.
“This makes no sense,” he muttered.
“Maybe if you actually followed the instructions, it would,” Airi quipped, walking past him with a mug of tea.
“I’m following them!” Izuna protested, holding up the manual.
Airi glanced at the mess, then at him. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”
“Of course,” Izuna said confidently. “It’s just… a creative process.”
Airi rolled her eyes but couldn’t resist the urge to intervene. “Move over,” she said, kneeling beside him.
“What are you doing?” Izuna asked.
“Fixing this before you break something,” Airi replied, grabbing the instruction manual.
For the next hour, the two worked together—albeit reluctantly—to assemble the chair. Despite their constant bickering, they managed to complete the task without any major disasters.
“There,” Airi said, standing back to admire their handiwork. “It’s done.”
Izuna plopped into the chair with a satisfied grin. “Not bad. Guess we make a good team after all.”
Airi smirked faintly. “Don’t get used to it.”
Later that evening, Airi found herself in the kitchen, preparing dinner. She had planned to eat alone, but Izuna wandered in, sniffing the air.
“What’s that?” he asked, leaning over her shoulder.
Airi instinctively elbowed him away. “Personal space, remember?”
“Right, right,” Izuna said, holding up his hands. “But seriously, it smells good.”
“It’s stir-fry,” Airi said curtly.
“You’re making enough for two, right?” Izuna asked, flashing her a hopeful grin.
Airi hesitated, then sighed. “Fine. But only because I don’t want you ordering junk food again.”
Izuna grinned. “Deal.”
As they sat down to eat, the atmosphere in the apartment felt… different.
“This is actually really good,” Izuna said between bites. “Where’d you learn to cook like this?”
“My mother,” Airi replied, her tone softening. “She used to say that a good meal could fix almost anything.”
Izuna nodded thoughtfully. “Smart woman.”
They ate in silence for a moment before Airi spoke again.
“You’re not as hopeless as I thought,” she admitted reluctantly.
Izuna smirked. “And you’re not as scary as I thought.”
“Don’t push your luck,” Airi warned, though her lips twitched with the hint of a smile.
As the day came to an end, both of them retreated to their rooms.
For the first time since they became housemates, the apartment felt… almost comfortable.
Airi sat on her bed, reflecting on the day. “Maybe this arrangement won’t be so bad after all,” she murmured.
Meanwhile, Izuna lay sprawled on his new gaming chair, grinning to himself. “She’s not half bad,” he thought.
Little did they know, this was only the beginning of their unexpected journey together.
The next morning began uneventfully, with Airi rising early as usual to prepare for her day. She moved efficiently through the kitchen, making coffee and organizing her planner. Meanwhile, Izuna was still sound asleep, sprawled across his bed, surrounded by empty snack bags.
Just as Airi was about to enjoy her coffee, the doorbell rang.
She frowned, setting her cup down. “Who could it be this early?”
Opening the door, she was greeted by a tall man with neatly combed hair and a dazzling smile. Behind him stood another, slightly shorter guy with messy brown hair and an awkward grin.
“Hey, Airi-chan!” the taller man said cheerfully.
“Ren? Hikaru?” Airi said, her eyes widening. “What are you two doing here?”
“We were in the neighbourhood and thought we’d stop by,” Hikaru explained, holding up a bag of pastries.
“Didn’t you move into a new place recently?” Ren added, peeking inside. “We wanted to check it out.”
Airi sighed, stepping aside to let them in. “Fine. But only for a little while. I have things to do.”
As Airi led her friends into the living room, a loud yawn echoed through the apartment.
Izuna stumbled out of his room, scratching his head and wearing a crumpled T-shirt with “Game Over” printed across the front. His hair was a mess, and he looked half-asleep.
The moment their eyes met, Ren and Hikaru froze.
“Who’s this?” Ren asked, raising an eyebrow.
Izuna blinked, still groggy. “Uh, morning?”
“Morning?” Ren repeated, his tone sharp. “Airi, care to explain why there’s a random guy in your apartment?”
“He’s not random,” Airi said quickly. “He’s… my roommate.
“Roommate?” Hikaru echoed, looking between them.
“It’s a long story,” Airi said, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Before she could elaborate, Izuna flopped onto the couch, completely unconcerned by the tension in the room. “Hey, if you’re bringing food, you’d better share.”
Ren’s eyes narrowed. “You’re awfully casual for someone freeloading off Airi.”
“Freeloading?” Izuna repeated, sitting up. “Hey, I pay my share of the rent!”
“Barely,” Airi muttered under her breath.
“Excuse me?” Ren said, his tone protective. “Airi, are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Ren, it’s fine,” Airi insisted, though her expression suggested she wasn’t entirely convinced.
The situation only got more chaotic when the doorbell rang again.
This time, it was Tamaki and Athena, two of Airi’s closest friends. They burst into the apartment with bags of groceries and wide smiles.
“We brought ingredients to cook lunch together!” Tamaki announced.
“It’ll be fun!” Athena added.
Their enthusiasm quickly faded when they noticed the tense atmosphere in the living room.
“What’s going on?” Tamaki asked, glancing between Airi, Ren, and Izuna.
“Just… a misunderstanding,” Airi said quickly.
“More like an interrogation,” Izuna muttered, earning a glare from Ren.
Despite the rocky start, the group eventually migrated to the kitchen.
Airi tried to keep things under control as Tamaki and Athena began cooking, but Ren and Izuna’s bickering made it nearly impossible.
“Do you always leave your stuff everywhere?” Ren asked pointedly, picking up an empty soda can from the counter.
“I was going to clean that,” Izuna replied defensively.
“When? Next year?”
“Alright, that’s it,” Izuna said, rolling up his sleeves. “You’ve been here five minutes, and you’re already acting like the apartment police.”
“Maybe because someone has to,” Ren shot back.
“Enough!” Airi shouted, slamming a wooden spoon onto the counter. The room fell silent.
“Ren, Izuna, either you stop arguing, or both of you can leave,” she said firmly.
Ren looked sheepish, while Izuna scratched the back of his head. “Fine,” they muttered in unison.
By lunchtime, the tension had eased somewhat. Tamaki and Athena managed to lighten the mood with their playful banter, while Hikaru acted as a buffer between Ren and Izuna.
The meal was surprisingly good, and for a brief moment, the apartment felt lively and warm.
“This isn’t so bad,” Izuna admitted, leaning back in his chair.
“Don’t get used to it,” Airi said, though her tone lacked its usual edge.
As the group prepared to leave, Ren pulled Airi aside.
“Are you sure you’re okay living with him?” he asked quietly.
Airi glanced over at Izuna, who was helping Tamaki pack up the leftovers. Despite his chaotic nature, there was something undeniably genuine about him.
“I think I’ll survive,” she said with a small smile.
Ren didn’t look entirely convinced but nodded. “If he gives you any trouble, let me know.”
After everyone left, the apartment felt strangely quiet.
“You have some interesting friends,” Izuna said, collapsing onto the couch.
“They’re not usually this intense,” Airi admitted, sitting down beside him.
Izuna chuckled. “Well, if they’re worried about you, I guess they’re not so bad.”
Airi glanced at him, surprised. “That’s… surprisingly mature of you to say.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Izuna replied, smirking.
For the first time since they’d become housemates, Airi felt a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, this arrangement could work.
The day after the chaotic visit, Airi was determined to restore some semblance of order to her life. She woke up early, ready to tackle her to-do list and enjoy a peaceful morning. However, her optimism quickly faded when she saw Izuna lounging on the couch in his pajamas, playing video games with the TV volume cranked up.
“Do you ever do anything productive?” Airi asked, crossing her arms.
Izuna didn’t even glance away from the screen. “This is productive. I’m grinding for rare loot.”
Airi sighed, rubbing her temples. “At least turn it down. Some of us have work to do.”
Reluctantly, Izuna lowered the volume. “Happy?”
“Not really,” she muttered, heading into the kitchen to make breakfast.
By mid-morning, Izuna finally turned off his game and wandered into the kitchen, where Airi was busy typing away on her laptop.
“You’re always so serious,” Izuna said, peering over her shoulder. “What are you working on?”
“Reports for a campaign at work,” Airi replied without looking up. “It’s due tomorrow, and I don’t have time for distractions.”
Izuna smirked. “Distractions like me?”
“Exactly.”
Instead of leaving her alone, Izuna grabbed a banana from the counter and leaned against the fridge, watching her.
“You know, you might be less stressed if you took breaks,” he said, peeling the banana.
“I’ll take a break when I finish,” Airi replied curtly.
Izuna shrugged. “Suit yourself. Just don’t burn out.”
Later that afternoon, Airi decided she couldn’t focus with Izuna hovering around. She stood abruptly, grabbing her bag.
“Where are you going?” Izuna asked, watching her head toward the door.
“To a café. I need peace and quiet to work.”
Izuna frowned. “Hey, you don’t have to leave your own apartment just because of me.”
Airi turned, surprised by his sincerity. “It’s not just you. I think I need a change of scenery.”
“Alright,” Izuna said, stepping aside. “But if you need backup, call me. I’m great at scaring off annoying baristas.”
Airi rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling as she left.
The café was a welcome escape, and Airi managed to make significant progress on her report. By the time she returned home, she felt more relaxed.
To her surprise, the apartment was unusually tidy. The piles of snacks and scattered game controllers were gone, replaced by a clean coffee table and a vacuumed carpet.
“Izuna?” she called, setting down her bag.
He appeared from his room, looking uncharacteristically smug. “Notice anything different?”
“You… cleaned?”
“I figured it was my turn, since you’re always nagging me about it,” Izuna said, shrugging.
Airi stared at him, unsure how to respond. “Thanks, I guess.”
“You’re welcome,” Izuna said, plopping onto the couch. “But don’t get used to it.”
That evening, they found themselves sitting at the dining table, sharing a surprisingly civil meal.
“This might be the first time we’ve eaten together without arguing,” Airi observed.
“Progress,” Izuna said with a grin. “So, truce?”
Airi hesitated before nodding. “Truce.”
For the first time since their rocky introduction, they both felt a glimmer of hope that their living arrangement might not be as impossible as it seemed.
The following morning, Airi woke up feeling refreshed. It had been a relatively quiet night, and for once, she didn’t have to clean up after Izuna. She walked into the living room, expecting to see him sprawled out on the couch. Instead, she found him sitting at the dining table with a pen in hand and a serious expression on his face.
“What are you doing?” Airi asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Writing a roommate contract,” Izuna said without looking up.
Airi blinked. “A what?”
“A roommate contract,” he repeated. “You’re always complaining about my habits, so I figured we could put some ground rules in writing.”
Airi arched an eyebrow and walked over to see what he was scribbling. “Let me see that.”
The contract read:
Roommate Rules and Agreements
1. No nagging about video game marathons unless they last more than 12 hours.
2. Airi must share her cooking with Izuna at least twice a week.
3. Izuna will clean the apartment only on weekends.
4. Both parties must respect each other’s personal space—no barging into rooms uninvited.
5. No labelling everything in the kitchen like a control freak (looking at you, Airi).
6. Late-night noise should be kept to a minimum, unless it’s for a boss fight.
Airi stared at the list, her mouth slightly open. “This is ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously fair,” Izuna corrected, leaning back in his chair. “I even added a clause about respecting your personal space.”
“You mean the clause about me not barging into your room,” Airi shot back.
Izuna grinned. “Exactly. So, what do you think?”
Airi snatched the paper and grabbed a pen. “If we’re doing this, I’m adding my own rules.”
After ten minutes of back-and-forth negotiations (and several arguments), they finalized the contract:
Final Roommate Contract:
1. Both parties will clean up after themselves daily.
2. Late-night gaming sessions are allowed but must not exceed midnight on weekdays.
3. Shared spaces must be kept tidy at all times.
4. Food and groceries will be split 50/50, unless agreed otherwise.
5. No touching or moving each other’s belongings without permission.
6. A weekly roommate meeting will be held to address any issues.
Izuna groaned as he read the revised rules. “A weekly meeting? Are we running a business?”
“It’s called communication,” Airi said firmly. “If we don’t address problems regularly, this arrangement will never work.”
“Fine,” Izuna muttered, reluctantly signing the paper.
With the contract in place, the atmosphere in the apartment shifted slightly. While they still bickered over minor things, the ground rules provided a sense of structure—something Airi desperately needed and Izuna begrudgingly accepted.
Their first “roommate meeting” was scheduled for Sunday evening, and Airi insisted on sticking to the agenda.
When Sunday arrived, Airi sat at the dining table with her laptop open, ready to take notes. Izuna slouched in the chair across from her, looking bored.
“Alright,” Airi began, “let’s review the week. Any complaints or issues?”
“Yeah,” Izuna said, raising his hand. “You reorganized the fridge again. I couldn’t find my pudding for two days.”
“That’s because your pudding was expired, and I threw it out,” Airi replied without missing a beat.
Izuna gasped dramatically. “You threw away my pudding? That’s a crime!”
“Expired food is not a crime, Izuna.”
“It is to me!”
Airi sighed. “Noted. Anything else?”
“Nope, that’s it,” Izuna said, crossing his arms.
“Good. Meeting adjourned,” Airi said, closing her laptop.
“That’s it?” Izuna asked. “I was expecting a lecture or something.”
Airi gave him a small smile. “See? Communication works.”
Izuna rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. “Alright, you win this round.”
As the evening progressed, they settled into a new rhythm. While their personalities remained wildly different, they were beginning to find a balance—a tenuous but promising truce.
By the time they turned in for the night, both felt a strange sense of accomplishment. Maybe, just maybe, this unlikely partnership could actually work.
The following week, Airi and Izuna fell into a somewhat functional routine. Though their personalities still clashed in amusing ways, the roommate contract helped keep the peace. One evening, however, an unexpected event brought them closer in a way neither anticipated.
Airi was busy in the kitchen, carefully preparing dinner. She was trying out a new recipe—pasta with a creamy mushroom sauce. Cooking always relaxed her, and she hummed softly as she stirred the sauce.
Izuna sauntered in, sniffing the air. “Whoa, what smells so good?”
“Dinner,” Airi said without looking up. “But this isn’t for you. I’m cooking for myself tonight.”
Izuna’s face fell. “What? Why? I thought we were sharing meals now.”
“I share when you help buy groceries, which you haven’t done this week,” Airi replied with a smirk.
“Hey, I’ve been busy!” Izuna protested.
“With what? Beating a boss in your game?”
Izuna grinned sheepishly. “Exactly. You wouldn’t understand the pressure.”
Airi rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Fine. I’ll let you have some, but you’re doing the dishes.”
“Deal,” Izuna said, grabbing a plate.
As they sat down to eat, Izuna took one bite and froze.
“What?” Airi asked, frowning. “Is it bad?”
Izuna shook his head, his eyes wide. “No, it’s amazing. Like, really amazing. Did you make this from scratch?”
Airi blushed slightly at the unexpected praise. “Of course. Cooking is one of my hobbies.”
“Well, your hobby just became my new favourite thing,” Izuna said, eagerly digging in.
Airi chuckled, surprised by how happy his compliment made her feel.
After dinner, Izuna actually followed through on his promise to do the dishes. Airi watched from the couch, amused by his clumsy attempts to scrub the plates.
“You’re going to break something,” she called out.
“Relax, I’ve got this,” Izuna replied, though his grip on a glass plate seemed precarious.
A loud crash proved her point.
“Izuna!” Airi jumped up, rushing to the kitchen.
“Uh, minor setback,” Izuna said sheepishly, holding up the broken pieces.
“Minor? That was my favourite plate!”
“I’ll buy you a new one,” he said quickly.
“You’d better,” Airi muttered, grabbing a broom.
Later that evening, as they both sat on the couch, a sudden power outage plunged the apartment into darkness.
“Oh, great,” Airi groaned. “Where’s the flashlight?”
“No idea,” Izuna said, fumbling around. “Hold on, I think I have a lighter.”
A small flame illuminated the room as Izuna lit a candle he found on the coffee table. The warm glow cast flickering shadows across the walls, creating an unexpectedly cozy atmosphere.
“This is kind of nice,” Izuna said, sitting back.
Airi sat beside him, hugging a cushion. “I guess. It’s better than staring at a blank TV screen.”
They sat in silence for a while, listening to the quiet hum of the city outside. For once, the absence of their usual bickering felt comfortable.
“Hey, Airi,” Izuna said softly.
“Yeah?”
“I know I mess up a lot, but… thanks for putting up with me.”
Airi glanced at him, surprised. “Where’s this coming from?”
“I dunno,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “I guess I just realized you’ve done a lot to make this place liveable, even with someone like me around.”
Airi smiled faintly. “You’re not that bad. Annoying, yes, but not bad.”
Izuna laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
The power came back on shortly after, but the moment lingered. As they each went to their rooms, both couldn’t help but feel that their strange cohabitation might not be so bad after all.
The next morning, Airi woke up to an unusual smell wafting through the apartment. She blinked in confusion, rubbing her eyes as she followed the aroma to the kitchen.
To her astonishment, Izuna was standing at the stove, wearing an apron over his casual clothes. He was humming a tune and flipping something in a pan with surprising skill.
“Izuna?” Airi asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.
He turned, flashing her a bright smile. “Morning! Hope you’re hungry.”
Airi crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. “What are you doing?”
“Making breakfast,” he said simply, gesturing to the table where plates of scrambled eggs, toast, and what looked like perfectly cooked bacon were already set.
“Why?”
“Because,” Izuna said with exaggerated patience, “you made dinner last night. Figured I’d return the favour.”
Airi arched an eyebrow. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch!” he replied, grinning. “Just proving I’m not completely useless.”
They sat down to eat, and Airi hesitantly took a bite. To her surprise, the food was good.
“Okay, I’ll admit,” she said between bites, “this is better than I expected.”
Izuna beamed. “See? I’m full of surprises.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” Airi muttered, but she couldn’t hide her smile.
After breakfast, they tackled their chores. Airi stuck to her usual cleaning routine, while Izuna attempted to follow her lead. It didn’t take long for chaos to ensue.
“Why are you vacuuming the ceiling?” Airi asked, staring in disbelief as Izuna tried to hold the vacuum nozzle above his head.
“I thought I saw cobwebs!” he defended.
Airi sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Just… stick to the floor, please.”
“Got it, boss,” Izuna said with a mock salute, making her roll her eyes.
By afternoon, the apartment was sparkling clean—well, mostly. Airi stood in the living room, surveying their work with satisfaction.
“Not bad,” she admitted. “Maybe you’re not a lost cause after all.”
Izuna flopped onto the couch, grinning. “High praise coming from you.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Airi said, but her tone was teasing.
Later that evening, they decided to unwind with a movie. After much debate, they settled on a light-hearted comedy.
As the movie played, they found themselves laughing at the same jokes and commenting on the ridiculous plot. By the time the credits rolled, the initial tension between them had eased significantly.
“You know,” Airi said as she stretched, “this wasn’t a terrible day.”
Izuna smirked. “I’ll take that as a win.”
“Don’t push your luck,” she retorted, though her tone was playful.
As they prepared to head to bed, Airi paused by the door to her room. “Hey, Izuna.”
He looked up from his phone. “Yeah?”
“Thanks… for breakfast. And for actually helping today.”
Izuna gave her a lopsided grin. “Anytime, roommate.”
With a small smile, Airi closed her door, feeling a sense of warmth she hadn’t expected.