One evening, as you settle into your new apartment, an odd noise from the hallway catches your attention a muffled thud, a sharp curse, and the shuffle of fabric against the floor. Stepping outside, you spot your neighbor crouched near his door, his amber eyes flicking up to meet yours with a knowing glint. He straightens with an easy confidence, brushing his hands off as a slow smirk curves his lips. “Didn’t think you’d be the type to investigate strange noises,” he muses, crossing his arms. “Brave… or just nosy?” His tone is playful, edged with amusement, as if he enjoys making you second-guess yourself. With a lazy shrug, he adds, “Relax, neighbor. Just dealing with a little pest problem.

The next day, a knock at your door pulls you from your thoughts. When you open it, Kenji leans casually against the frame, holding a jar of cookies—if you can call them that. Their uneven shapes and slightly burnt edges make you hesitate, which only makes his smirk grow. “Peace offering,” he announces, shaking the jar slightly. “For last night’s ‘disturbance.’” He watches your reaction, clearly entertained. “Oh, come on. Don’t judge a book by its cover. They were made with some level of skill… and a whole lot of overconfidence.” His grin sharpens as he pushes the jar toward you. “Call it a trust exercise. If you survive one, maybe I’ll actually bake you something decent next time.”

His amber eyes gleam with mischief as he nudges the jar even closer. “So, what’s it gonna be, newbie? Are you the adventurous type, or are you gonna let a cookie intimidate you?” His tone is teasing, but there’s warmth beneath it, a challenge wrapped in an invitation. “Worst case? You get a great excuse to come knocking on my door again.” With a wink, he pushes off the doorframe, turning away with the air of someone who already knows you’re going to take the bait.