Due to all the ruckus, the landlord had to come up to the third floor. He was a middle-aged man with a protruding gut that could barely be contained through his dress shirt. In other words, he was fat, very fat. Not only that, but it was obvious that he was balding. Based on my estimates, he had a good 5 years left before his hair was completely gone. I pitied him from the first moment I met him. I couldn't imagine how it felt to completely lose your hair before it even had a chance to turn gray. Perhaps that was why he always looked irritated and grumpy. His eyes were beady, and his cheeks seemed to have forgotten how to smile. 

Though if I were as ugly as him, I wouldn't have smiled either...

The minute his stubby leg stepped out of the elevator, all of the other tenants quickly returned back to their trivial lives. It was as if their fear of the aging landlord outweighed their curiosity about why a young man was covered in FRESH OFF THE STOVE INSTANT RAMEN. I'm not even exaggerating when I say that. It was excruciatingly painful since the scorching soup had started to trickle down my entire body. For some reason, my shirt didn't soak up the soup into one spot. Instead, the liquid branched off into different paths.

I wasn't prepared for this. Who knew that tenant 23 was going to throw her lunch all over me? I mean, I certainly didn't. Even so, I can't say that this was entirely her fault. I had been the person who surprised her as she opened the door. However, the root of the problem was none other than that bumbling landlord who had given me the wrong apartment number. However, the situation was about to go from bad to straight out miserable.

It was a bad day to wear khakis since the soup base eventually found its way to where my zipper was.

If you knew anything about pants anatomy, then that was my euphemism of saying the soup created a stain on my crotch... 

It looked as if I had taken a leak, but in actuality, a young girl had thrown 50 yen worth of instant ramen on me. Most of which was on the floor, aside from a couple of toppings that stuck to my t-shirt.

Needless to say, the crotch stain was the least of my worries. If you thought sweaty balls was rough, try setting them on fire. That was how I felt at the moment. The soup base had pierced through the pants, seeped through the boxers, and managed to inflict hefty burn damage to my tenders. This may very well be the end of the Yasui bloodline. I can't see myself having kids anymore after suffering what felt to be like 3rd-degree burns. 

For better or worse, when the landlord saw me, he quickly got back inside the elevator. We had only made eye contact for a split second, but he seemed to figure out he had gotten himself into something more than he bargained for. It was great that the landlord wanted to leave me be, but there was still one crucial issue that needed to be settled.

JUST WHERE THE HELL DO I LIVE IF IT'S NOT APAERTMENT 23?

I knew that just gunning straight to the elevator wasn't a viable option. Hell, it might've made my "family jewels" feel even worse. Even so, I knew that I absolutely needed to reach the landlord. I needed to change clothes as quickly as possible, and stripping here on the third floor could've sent me straight to the police station. Aside from Yui, there might've been other people who were going up to the third floor. It wasn't worth having a criminal record over something as stupid as spilled ramen...

Besides, the only place I want Yui to see me pantsless is in my bedroom. (Preferably late at night)

As I always say, It's ok to have a cousin fetish because family should always be cherished.

I must've looked really dumb, but there I was side scuttering like a crab to reach the landlord in time. There were puddles of yellow trailing behind me. If I hadn't known myself that it was ramen soup, I would've easily mistaken the puddle for human urine. By a sheer miracle or just plain good luck, I managed to get to the elevator just as the doors were closing. Without even wasting a second more, I used both of my hands to pry the elevator doors open by force. Even though I said, "by force," what happened in actuality was that I triggered the motion sensors, and the doors reopened on their own. However, it sounded cooler to say that I pried it open.

It was either the manic look on my face or the fact that I had caught him off guard, but the landlord jumped back in surprise. He banged the back of his head on the elevator wall, and the lights flickered on and off. Since the landlord was a rather hefty individual, I was afraid the elevator's suspension line would've given out. However, the worse that happened was a bit of rattling on the elevator's part.

This was an amazing feat of human engineering, given the weight of the landlord...

Most importantly, with the landlord in such a disarrayed state, it was my chance to strike first and give him a piece of my mind,

"You, I've finally got you. Don't even think about trying to run away—apartment 23, my ass. None of the keys worked, and when the door did open, I had hot ramen thrown all over my crotch. Do you want hot ramen on your crotch? I'd be more than happy to show you how painful it is."

I didn't expect my angry shouting to have that much of an effect. If anything, I wasn't expecting anything at all. However, The landlord huddled himself into a corner. This image was in strike contrast to the grumpy old man I had met when I signed the lease for the apartment. For someone so feared by his tenants, you'd think he'd put up more of a fight. To my disappointment, he was the physical representation of the word pitiful. The landlord had literally "backed himself into a corner" with nowhere to go.

I couldn't help but feel bad for him even when I was the one who was wronged...  

Between wondering how to deal with my landlord and the pain in my crotch, I caught the faint sound of a door creaking open.

My ears twitched.

My eyes widened. 

I turned my heads towards the sound, knowing full well what was there.

Peeking through a gap in the doorway was none other than tenant 23.

Only half her face could be seen, but her skin was still the same sickly type of pale that I saw earlier. 

A bit of sunlight found its way through the narrow slit of her door, and the tuft of her bangs gave off a light brown sheen. 

She wasn't a natural beauty like Yui, but she was still extremely cute. Tenant 23 appeared to be the type that would turn heads anywhere she went. The one eye that I saw had a captivating amber that glistened in the noon sunlight. I stood there and stared at her in a trance as if I'd seen her somewhere before. There was a sort of familiarity with her that I couldn't explain. Even though I knew for a fact that I never met tenant 23 until today, there was something about her that instinctively pulled me towards her.

Was this love at first sight?

Probably not.

My heart didn't race.

It didn't even beat an inch out of rhythm. 

There were no words that I could use to describe this feeling, besides a momentary calmness. I forgot about the pain in my crotch at the sight of her. I forgot about the landlord in the elevator, and I even forgot about where I was at the moment. To me, this felt like a moment that existed out of time, the type of fateful encounters that only happened in works of fiction.

Oddly enough, tenant 23 stared back at me in the exact same way. She stared at me while probably piecing her thoughts about where we might've met before. We should have been mere strangers, but the way we looked at each other said otherwise. 

However, I was probably overreacting. I had to be.

After all, it wasn't too far off to say I was just smitten with seeing a cute girl. If anything, she could've been looking at me because I was just a random guy blanky staring at her.

Yeah, that was probably the case.

I didn't have romantic feelings for her. I merely thought she was cute. 

She, in turn, probably just thought I was a weirdo. That was it. That had to be it.

There were no such things as fateful encounters. I refuse to believe so. Things like fateful encounters were only for Otakus, and I'm no Otaku. Between reality and fiction, I'd always choose to live in reality. Therefore, everything I felt after seeing her was just my mind playing tricks on me. My hormones simply reacting to the sight of a cute girl. I was content with this explanation. Besides, I was more of a chest type of guy, and tenant 23 was severely lacking in that department. When you've been spoiled by your cousins H sized boobs for half of your adolescence, it's hard to top that.

The elevator doors then started to close without me realizing it and broke me out of my trance. Though, it was too late to trigger the motion sensors again, as the elevator doors had narrowed to a small crack. However, just before the elevator doors closed, I saw something odd. There was a smirk on the landlord's face as he stared at what seemed to be a phone in his hand. Something was offsetting about that. It was as if he used me. It certainly felt that way, but I had no evidence to be sure. All I knew was that it was odd for a person, especially for a middle-aged man, to go from being scared shitless to satisfyingly smirking. This was obviously a red flag, but I'll give him the benefit of the doubt for now. After all, the rent for this apartment was dirt cheap. After lashing out at him, I should probably find some way to fall back into his good graces. If I get kicked out of the complex, who knows where else I would go 

"Tw-twenty two, that's where you live." 

The voice that said that was delicate but direct. Her to the point straightforwardness was completely unexpected for a cute girl. Tenant 23 then stretched out her slender arm through the gap of her door. She pointed at a door between the elevator and herself. I assumed that was apartment 22 unless the apartment designer's designer was just terrible with numbers. 

I couldn't stand there and not say anything. At the very least, she deserved a simple thanks. She seemed to be more reliable for a girl who hid herself behind a door than the fat landlord. Maybe that was why the rent was so cheap. The simple fact was that the management probably sucked.

The scalding soup base had simmered down to something akin to lukewarm warm water.  It was easier to talk now that there wasn't immense pain in my private area. Luckily I still remembered the family name for tenant 23 when I looked at the nameplate beside her door earlier.

"Thanks, uh, Katou-san?"

"You can drop the honorifics; just call me Ruri. After all, it's too late for first impressions since I already threw boiling ramen on you."

She was one of those chummy types. Evidently, it was the type of people that I hated the most. I never had many friends in the first place, to begin with. In fact, I could count the total amount of friends I had at my fingertips. I was proud of that fact because having a lot of friends was much more of a hassle than one would expect. It was best to let Katou know my intentions, as I didn't want to be anything more than neighbors.

"Sorry, but I don't really intend on being friends with you. I'll just stick to calling you Katou-San."

"Wow, big words coming from someone whose fly is down."

The moment she said those words, I instinctively looked down. However, the only thing there was a stain. I then quickly raised my head back towards her and was met with a girl sticking out her tongue. 

"Heh, made you look. Well, it's not like we're gonna be seeing much of each. I'm a NEET after all."

Maybe I misheard her, but did my worse nightmare come true. Had I purchased a home next to a dirty stinking Otaku? Did I make the mistake of thinking that an Otaku was cute earlier? 

I needed to be exorcised. I had to get rid of all this Otaku aura that had tainted me. However, I had to make sure one more time as to what the situation was, even though it was made pretty clear already."  

"Did you just say you were a NEET? Like one of those filthy anime-loving Otakus who never leave their home."

My heart sank as Katou said, "Well, I enjoy video games more than anime, but yeah, I pretty much never leave my hou-"

I didn't give her a chance to finish her words.

I briskly walked towards her door.

I grabbed onto the handle, but I had no intention of pulling it open.

No, for people like her, they deserved to be locked away in their homes. They didn't serve to breathe the same air as me because Otakus were the scum of society. 

I looked between the narrow gap of the door,  met her amber eyes, and yelled at the top of my lungs,

"GO DIE NEET! I HATE TRASH LIKE YOU!"

I slammed the door shut, ignoring the fact that the force had sent the Neet falling towards the ground. I heard a slight whimper behind the door, but I didn't care whether she was a girl or not. The moment that she came out to me as a Neet was when I determined that her life had no value. She was as insignificant as a speck of dust.

I'd never call her by her first name, much less become friends with a filthy Otaku like her.

The only name befitting her now and forever had etched itself in my brain.

Yes, the only name for her was NEET TRASH.