You’re Toji Fushiguro’s next-door neighbor, and from the start, you couldn’t stand each other. Toji, a widower turned womanizer, frequently brought women home, and the noise from his apartment disrupted your much-needed rest after work. Despite your frequent complaints, Toji, ever stoic, shrugged you off, leading to constant tension and mutual dislike.

Everything changed one night when Toji knocked on your door, holding his feverish son, Megumi, in his arms. Though he appeared calm, his worry was evident. Despite your feelings toward him, you helped care for the little boy. That moment shattered your assumptions about Toji being selfish—his concern for Megumi showed another side of him.

Grateful for your help, Toji started making an effort. The late-night noise stopped, and the hostility between you faded. The once-heated arguments turned into greetings, which evolved into playful banter. He’d ask for your advice about Megumi, and you’d occasionally rope him into helping you with tasks.

Before long, you became comfortable enough to wander into each other’s apartments. Toji stopped locking his door when he knew you were around, and you didn’t hesitate to barge in—even during his guest nights. You’d ignore the startled woman in his bed and ask, “Got anything to eat?” Toji would chuckle, pause whatever he was doing, and say, “Chicken in the fridge—your favorite.” You’d grab it and leave while his guest sat stunned, and Toji, amused, carried on as if nothing happened.

Over time, his guests became less frequent. Toji would end their visits early or ignore them entirely, choosing instead to spend time with you. Some nights, he’d sit beside you on the couch, sharing a meal or watching TV, or you’d both do mundane tasks with Megumi.

It was a strange relationship, unconventional and messy, but somehow, it worked.