Chapter Text
Neito is currently nursing a headache.
No, in case you were wondering, this matter of utmost migraine inducing annoyance most certainly was not the consequence, or direct repercussion of any action within Neito's responsibility, butter effect or whatever. In fact, he wasn't even sure how in the heck did this majestic piece of cluster fuck managed to stumble its way gracefully into his lap, out of all available laps, a cluster fuck that he, in no way whatsoever had even a fraction of his singular piece of hair to do with.
For once, in his life, he had actively opted out of participating in dumb activities that could only come back around to bite him in the back, and said dumb activity comes up to his front door instead.
It's nearing two past midnight, and he's been awake since his classes at seven in the god forsaken morning. The usual amount of tea was barely enough to get him by morning classes, the extension of said waking hours had definitely long pushed past his limit. Maybe it was time to consider coffee.
He bites back another groan at the sight of Kendou, Tetsutetsu, and fiery red-head from their high school days, tumbling around in his living room, utterly devoted to upturning his modest one-bedroom apartment. Drunkenly.
And really loudly.
He really hopes no one's awake at this hour, anyway. He rather not deal with noise complaints on top of all of this.
The valedictorian from high school... Yoro-? Yara-? Yayako? Yoro-whoever was still standing in his doorway, muttering a stream of apologies while explaining the circumstances that had lead them, well, literally, here.
They had decided to celebrate everyone's successful internships at a bar nearby, but of course, to no one's surprise, things got rowdy, when do things ever not get rowdy when you put Tetsutetsu and his red counterpart together anyway? Kendou had clearly underestimated the amount of effort she put into keeping one Tetsutetsu in line, he could only imagine what two Tetsutetsu's could get up to, seeing as Kendou is currently wasted beyond measure.
He doesn't remember ever seeing the normally well put-together ginger at such a state of disarray before.
Neito turns back to look at his childhood best friend again, who is currently waltzing haphazardly with his vase in hand, visibly agitated at the fact that the vase isn't waltzing with her. He winces when Kendou misses the vase by a foot and sends her entire person crashing into the wall with a loud thump. That's gotta hurt, and it'll probably bruise in the morning. Thankfully she's far too inebriated to really feel anything, yet, right?
He turns back to Valedictorian-san and tunes back into the conversation, though it really was more of a one-sided drunken babbling with lots of big words thrown around that Neito was too tired to think about at this point. Miss Valedictorian was the designated driver, keyword was. But even she got carried away with the festivities and is now just moderately drunk enough that attempting to drive under such a state would certainly result in more than just a DUI, and that's if they were lucky.
Now, how their award-winning valedictorian of the century let that happen under her nose, the one person alive more responsible than Kendou, he really wonders. He was being sarcastic, if you didn't catch the drift, but really, she of all people should know better. But what's done is done, and now you're here to help clean up the mess you had no hand in causing.
Back to her story, it was getting late, she was panicking, she couldn't drive, and she couldn't leave them passed out in the alley outside the store. Neito gets it. And Kendou had mentioned earlier that night that Neito lived nearby, so she dug out Kendou's phone and thumbed for Monoma Neito in the list of contacts.
Neito wasn't all that surprised that Tetsutetsu and his twin could get Kendou and Miss Valedictorian into a tight spot like this, from his own personal experiences with the two, though he gathers that the trio would feel reasonably guilty about all the stress that they put their friend into. Honestly, as of this moment, he was actually more surprised that she could still speak with alarming clarity at this point, apologising in every sentence still, despite the fact that she had tried to greet his bamboo plant outside his door earlier, and probably couldn't tell left from right either.
Tetsutetsu began loudly yelling a drunken rendition of "My Heart Will Go On", which startled the both of them, cutting off Miss Valedictorian in the middle of her sentence, as more thumps and crashes resumed making its presence known behid Neito, the unrecognisable yelling grew in volume as a very loud crash sent the two at the door nearly jumping- with all the noises that heralded nothing but chaos, he really didn't want to face the reality of his living room, but in the end he decides to take a hesitant peek behind him, and, yep, there goes his table.
He's thankful that he kept all his working valuables in his bedroom, earlier that evening. If he had left his laptop out on the table... he really rather not think of what that could mean. That's not really a thing that Neito should be thankful about, but he'll take whatever he can get at the moment.
Anyway, at this point Valedictorian-san is getting more and more flustered and apologetic at the antics of her classmates from university, so Neito decides to be an angel and cut her rambling off while ushering her out towards the taxi he had the forethought to call. He had only stood there for so long because he thought she'll run out of things to apologise for, eventually, and he was too tired to really make conversation, but seeing as it's been nearly ten minutes since the gaggle of drunk idiots arrived... yeah, you can see how well that went.
"Yes, I can take care of them, it's not a problem. I can, in fact, accommodate all three of them, though the level of comfort will be questionable, but beggars can't be choosers. No, I don't have a roommate, so it'll be fine- of course it's fine, don't worry, they're a bit of a problem but I'll put them through hell for it. I understand what they can get up to, please have a safe trip home and do not worry your roommate any longer... oh would you look at the time, it's getting late! I'll see you tomorrow, uh, bye!" He mutters out all in one breath.
He closes the door to Yoro- Valedictorian-san's taxi after directing the driver to her address, that she thankfully has written on a notes app. Something tells him that this, to some extent, was within the valedictorian's expectations, but he shrugs it off. He waits until the taxi safely turned out from the street of his small flat complex, then climbs the stairs back to his apartment on the third floor.
For a second, before unlocking the door to his little apartment, Neito wonders, 'Shouldn't her boyfriend, girlfriend, or something, be driving her home? This is really late.'
That is, if she has one. If Neito wasn't mistaken she was dating, right? That's what Kendou had told him the last time they met up for drinks.
He returns, to a surprisingly manageable mess in the small living room. The table was undoubtedly flipped, he'll have to check for damage later.
It appears that Kendou has given up fighting his vase, thankfully, and is flopped over the side of the couch, head on the floor and knocked out cold. Tetsutetsu has somehow wedged himself beneath the tiny couch, and believe him when he says that's amazing, because last he checked, the distance between the bottom of his couch and the ground could barely fit a box, and- Oh no where did fiery redhead go?
Neito quickly dashes through his small apartment and is very relieved to find most of his bathroom still intact, albeit with his neatly arranged bottles knocked around a little. Fiery redhead had missed the toilet bowl by... ahem, scratch that, fiery redhead had puked into the shower, which is in no way, anywhere even near his toilet bowl. He sighs.
Well, at least he had the decency to go at it in the bathroom, right? Imagine the mess if he had puked on the carpet instead. Neito's nose scrunches up at the idea. He'd have to bear with the odour until he can send it in for cleaning, which would not be anytime soon.
Come to think of it, the bathroom was at least, easy to clean... He wonders when his standards had dropped so low, to be thankful about the particulars of where one could thoughtfully situate their undigested stomach acids. It's all in the little victories, he guesses.
Banishing the thought for now, he weighs his decisions quickly, and decides to clean up the red Tetsutetsu's mess in the shower first, to prevent the stench of puke from staining his bathroom. He's not had much experience with throwing up, but he does know that if you leave it overnight, it's gonna do the exact opposite of going away on its own. Washing it down the drain with the shower head and wiping it off with paper towels is as much as he has the energy to do for now, but it's good enough to get his tiled floor clean. He'll have to scrub it down in the morning with stronger cleaning products, he thinks, but at least the foul stain is gone, so the remaining stench is a problem for tomorrow-him.
Once done, he dealt with the redhead and tried to get him back out into the living room, having to support nearly the entirety of the redhead's weight in order to get him moving. With the three finally situated on the couch with as close of a semblance to normal people as he can, he returned with clean towels in hand to briefly wipe down the three drunkards who toppled over his peaceful college student Friday night. He may be fine with them bunking here for the night, however, make no mistake, there's no way in hell will he tolerate them festering the stench of middle aged men, cigarette smoke, and puke in his living room. Gross. He tries his best to tolerate their horrible beer odour while he works. And if their clothes end up a little wet because he couldn't be bothered to wring the towels dry properly, then that's not his problem, is it?
Getting out as much of the spilled alcohol on their skin that was beginning to dry in a sticky mess as he can, he looked down at the flurry of limbs, and decides to relocate his toilet freshener to the living room for good measure. He tries to remember to open the windows in the morning to air them out a little, but he has no confidence that he'll remember to do that.
Satisfied with his progress, he finally inspects the table and turns it back over, happy to find the table is still as sturdy as ever, with the addition of a few new bumps and scratches, it lives to see another day. He places bottles of water and a few unpopped pills on said table, throws a few blankets and pillows he keeps out in the living room over his honorary guests-who will definitely be waking up with sore backs, serves them right-turns out the lights, and yawns.
He'll deal with them in the morning. And even then, he doesn't think they'll even be conscious by the time the sun has well and truly risen past midday. He'll probably get to spend the quiet morning sleeping away. And so, Neito happily heads towards his bedroom-
-which, will have to wait a little longer, because there's someone knocking at his door. He groans, and contemplates going to bed anyway and pretending he didn't hear anything, but his feet decides for him that yes, he is in fact, going to answer the door. Thank you for nothing, traitorous feet.
He swings the door open as politely as he is able to in his sleep deprived state, and stares at quite possibly, the only man alive who looks far worse for wear than all three drunkards in Neito's room and Neito combined. That's a really high bar they set, and this man before him had managed to pole jump over it with room to spare.
He thinks he's seen him before, somewhere, something about the stranger looks oddly familiar, it needles at the back of his mind, but he couldn't place a finger on it. The dim lighting of the hall outside doesn't help, and the light from his apartment wasn't enough to illuminate anything either. He curses to himself later when he realises the stranger had said something to him that he didn't hear, and was now waiting patiently for his response.
"Sorry, wasn't listening, is there anything that I can do for you at, oh I don't know, the unholy fuck hours of sleep o'clock?"
The tall stranger paused, visibly startled, his hand reaching up to scratch idly at his neck as he tries to hide what seems to be a smile, and spoke in a low drawl that Neito neglects to notice in his exhaustion, "I said, you sounded like you're fighting the wall, do you need any help, or will that be all the commotion for tonight?"
Neito flushed slightly in embarrassment. Right, noise, neighbours. They were a thing.
"My apologies for the commotion. I have company over tonight and, they- got out of hand. Sorry for interrupting your night, but things are fine now and there won't be anymore noises. So, good night-" Neito bowed and hurriedly closed the door, eager to end their conversation, but said stranger just wedged his stupid foot between the door and the frame, the audacity of this man?
"Listen, I-" Neito starts but was interrupted by the man instead.
"I wasn't asking about the sounds, I'm sorry if that came across that way, but what I meant was, are you okay? You kinda- you left your keys at your door handle." The tall man explained, pointing at his doorknob.
"Oh," Neito opens the door fully, staring blankly at the dangling set of keys still lodged in his doorknob, jingling obnoxiously every time he swings the door, which truly made him wonder really just how tired he was. He, Monoma Neito, resident undefeated champion of paranoia and oversensitivity, had managed to ignore and forget about an entire, jingling, set of keys. The cute and fat Sumikko keychain that dangled from the door knob stared back at him in thinly veiled disappointment. Shame on you, Neito, he could hear it saying, I am the hardest thing to ignore and yet here you are.
He laughed tiredly at the absurdity, nerves finally winding down from the strain of the night, "Yeah, okay, it's been a long week. I'm just really tired, you know how it is." His fingers reach up to pinch at the bridge of his nose, sighing, he recomposes himself, crossing his arms and tucking his hands into the warm cardigan, "Thank you for your concern, um, I'm Monoma Neito, and you are?"
"Shinsou Hitoshi," the man nods his head, "Also known as the neighbour to your right. I'm right next door if there's anything you need. Or, if you'd like to warn me before you decide you want to play darts on the wall with a bowling ball."
"Wait, my right, to this way or to that-"
"That way."
"Right. Thank you again, and sorry for the noise. I hope you have a good night."
"Don't forget your keys-"
"Yes, yes, nights to you too."
Neito slams the door unapologetically in his, admittedly, rather kind neighbour's face after yanking his keys out, and makes a beeline towards his bed, finally sighing in satisfaction as he burrowed himself into the warm and comfortable covers after fantasizing about it all day. Having already washed up and cleaned prior to his wonderful friends' impromptu visit, his light was out the moment his head hit the pillow.
He lets the subtle nag at his gut from meeting his neighbour slide in the haze of his sleepiness. What was the guy's name again? Ah, no biggie, he'll just ask again if he ever sees him.
Which would be sooner than he'd like.