The moment Kei opened the front door, he let out the longest sigh of the day.
"Home sweet—" He paused. Looked behind him. "You sure about this?"
Akira stepped inside, lazily dragging her duffle bag with one hand while chewing gum. "My mom said it's temporary. You're not gonna cry about it, are you?"
Kei rolled his eyes. "No. But I am gonna regret it."
Akira kicked off her sneakers and looked around. "Huh. Smaller than I thought. Smells like… guy shampoo and suffering."
"That checks out." Kei shut the door and grabbed her bag. "Come on. I'll show you your room."
---
After a short tour (that included a warning not to open any closets without knocking first), Kei dropped Akira's stuff in the guest room and handed her a towel.
"Go shower. You've got a bus-ride smell."
"I always smell like this."
"Exactly. Go."
With Akira safely in the bathroom, Kei's expression hardened. Operation Demon Eviction: Commence.
He moved like a man on a mission—grabbing every suspicious item from Az and Bel's brief (and chaotic) stay: Az's half-burnt tank tops, Bel's terrifying collection of perfect black socks, at least three demonic books that glowed ominously if you stared too long, and a dagger that may or may not have tried to bite him.
"Out you go," he muttered, stuffing everything into a box.
Kei marched straight to the landlord's office.
---
Ten minutes later…
Mission accomplished.
New keys in hand. New apartment secured.
Az and Bel? Evicted from his home and relocated to the unit next door.
Kei grinned with grim satisfaction. "Finally. Peace."
---
Back at the apartment, the doorbell rang.
Ding dong.
Akira—now fresh from her shower, wearing one of Kei's oversized shirts and lazily stirring something in a pot—glanced toward the door. "Kei? Door."
No response.
She padded over and opened it.
And blinked.
Two guys stood there.
One in a black jacket, smirking, hair messily perfect.
The other in a white shirt and tie, quiet, sharp-eyed.
Az and Bel.
They all stared at each other.
Then:
"…Hi?" Az said, raising an eyebrow.
Akira squinted. "Do I… know you?"
"Nope," Bel said flatly, but his eyes narrowed.
Az tilted his head. "You're… cooking?"
Akira crossed her arms. "You're… randomly standing at someone else's door?"
The tension was oddly electric. Suspicious. Weirdly charged.
That was when Kei came sprinting up the stairs, slightly out of breath, holding a key in one hand and dragging the demon-luggage box behind him.
He froze at the sight.
Az. Bel. Akira.
All just staring at each other.
"NONONONO—NOPE—NO EYE CONTACT!" Kei shouted, dropping the box.
He shoved the apartment key into Bel's hand, pushed the box toward them with his foot, then grabbed both their shoulders and marched them to the neighboring door.
"This one. Yours. Goodbye."
Az blinked. "Wait, what—?"
"Don't care. Figure it out," Kei muttered, shoving them inside and slamming the door behind them.
He spun on his heel, grabbed Akira by the wrist, and dragged her back into his apartment.
Akira raised a brow as he slammed his door shut this time. "Okay… seriously. Who were those two?"
Kei pressed his forehead to the wall and whispered, "Mistakes."