Chapter Text
It was a quiet afternoon in the building.
The sun lazily slipped through the slats of the blinds in apartment 305, tinting the floor with a warm golden hue and filling the air with that sleepy, late-day warmth. Time seemed stretched in there, as if the world moved slower within those walls.
Eiji was sunk into the couch, surrounded by open books flipped to different pages, hastily scribbled notes, and a camera precariously balanced on a pile of cardboard boxes. It was part of a college project — something that, in theory, was supposed to be simple. But keeping focus in that apartment was asking too much.
Especially with Cookie around.
The hurried sound of tiny paws on the wooden floor announced that the puppy was on his way — or rather, on a mission. Eiji didn’t even need to look away from the lens to know trouble was coming. Cookie shot out of the kitchen, his “small” body filled with comic energy, the ever-present frog plush dangling from his mouth and his tail wagging with such force it looked ready to launch him into the air.
— Cookie, give me five minutes. Just five — he mumbled, turning the focus ring delicately, as if each motion could hold chaos at bay.
But the dog stopped in the middle of the room, fixed his gaze on the door with a very clear intention, and in a movement too quick to stop, pulled the handle down and dashed into the hallway, like someone executing a meticulously crafted plan.
— Cookie! No! Come back here! — Eiji dropped everything on impulse, tripping over his own notebooks as he ran after the escapee.
The hallway was calm, wrapped in that typical silence of afternoons when everyone seems to have disappeared. But an excited, muffled bark leaked out from apartment 307 — the one belonging to the neighbor across the hall.
Before Eiji could even knock, the door creaked open lazily, revealing Ash.
He was barefoot, with a loose shirt slipping off one shoulder and a steaming mug of coffee in his hands. His hair was messy — maybe from a nap, his eyes half-lidded, as if he’d just woken up — and there was Cookie, standing on his hind legs, licking his chin with all the devotion in the world, as if they were longtime friends.
— Ah… hi — said Eiji, still breathless, feeling his face heat up with embarrassment as he tried to pull the dog back.
Ash let out a low, dragged-out laugh, the kind that still carries remnants of a dream. He moved the mug away from his face so he wouldn’t spill coffee on the dog, and looked at Eiji with an amused, slightly confused expression.
— I think he likes me. Is he inviting me in for coffee, big guy?
— He… he’s never done this before. Sorry. He’s impossible today — replied Eiji, bending down to grab Cookie, who immediately refused to move away from his new friend.
Ash crouched down calmly, his knees popping slightly as he did, and gently petted the pup’s head. That’s when he noticed the frog plush now hanging from his mouth — already a bit slobbery, with loose stitches and the air of a survivor.
— I love his style — he commented with a half-smile. — A dog with organic taste. Authentic.
Eiji laughed, not quite knowing what to do with his hands.
— He takes that thing everywhere. Sleeps with that frog. If it gets lost, he goes into an existential crisis.
— I like people who stay loyal to their passions — said Ash, tossing the plush to the dog. Cookie caught it mid-air with comic agility and plopped down triumphantly.
Eiji tried not to stare, but it was hard. There was something in the way Ash looked at him that made everything slower, warmer — as if each second carried more weight. He didn’t seem to just listen; he seemed to watch him fully, attentive to details. And that lopsided, almost lazy smile did quiet damage.
— He can barge into my apartment whenever he wants — said Ash with a casual shrug. — And you too, if you’d like.
Eiji froze. He felt the heat crawl up his neck to his ears. He mumbled some half-formed apology, scooped Cookie into his arms like rescuing a disobedient child, and left before he could say anything stupid.
But it was too late.
The damage was done. Cookie was clearly in love. Eiji… maybe too.
By the end of the afternoon, the dog was already sitting in front of the door with the plush between his teeth, watching the hallway door with the determination of someone planning a new escape. Eiji tried to resist the urge to smile.
But failed.