Some Men are like Cockroaches
By Saltwater Romance
Prologue
You always think you know how you would handle a threatening situation. You would create these scenarios in your head and smirk, knowing that somehow, you would manage to escape unscathed. If someone grabbed you? No problem, you would knee them in their crotch regardless of gender. If someone wanted to rob you? You'd swing your purse at their weapon and then pull out your pocketknife and stab them while kneeing them in their groin.
But nothing could prepare you for a home invasion.
Nothing.
She felt like she was in the opening scene of Taken, except hiding underneath the bed, she was hiding in the bathroom, shaking with fear.
Where was her pocket knife when she needed it?
It started off with her sitting on the toilet, minding her own business when someone began knocking furiously on the door.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
She frowned, knowing that Tono wasn't home and that she wasn't expecting company. And it didn't help that the knocking didn't sound friendly whatsoever.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
It wasn't like the noise was going to frighten the pee out of her. She huffed. Whoever that person was, they would have to wait!
But then… She heard the jiggling of the doorknob and gulped. The banging ceased, but the sound of someone messing with the door echoed through the apartment.
What. The. Hell?
She heard all about this before. About how people used to call landlines before attempting robberies back in the days when cell phones weren't as prominent. She remembered her grandpa telling her never to answer the telephone and to tell her friends to always leave a message; she lived in one of those neighborhoods growing up. She never walked outside once it was dark, never talked to strangers on the street on her way home, and learned the importance of looking through the peephole before answering the door.
And of course, the one time she didn't arm herself with her pocketknife would be the one time when she'll get raped and then brutally murdered.
She lived in an apartment complex filled with college students; the stereotype of them being broke was no joke apparently.
She held her breath when she heard the front door creak open and then slam shut.
She closed her eyes.
Maybe it was just Tono and not some crazy person bent on killing her.
Trying to sound light-hearted, she texted hey are you home? Because if you are, you sound kinda upset.
No, I'm still at work.
Her eyes flew open as cabinets started being opened and banged shut echoed. Those sounds only getting closer to where she was. Shit. If only Joe the cockroach was a big ole vicious German Shepard. Her eyes darted around the windowless bathroom. Her only hope was arming herself with the can of Lysol and the Lime Away.
Tono. I think someone's in the houes!
The what?
Her fingers shook.
The house! The house! Someone broke in omfg.
The footsteps getting closer and closer to her. If she called for 911, she would immediately lead the stranger to her location—the building was made of paper thin walls. Maybe, just maybe, the person will walk right past the bathroom. Who kept valuables in the bathroom anyway?
Before she could text the emergency line…
The bathroom door was being yanked on and then…
BANG! BANG! BANG!
She opened her mouth and screamed. And screamed. And screamed.
"OH MY FUCKING GOD."
This was it.
This was how she'd die.
She stared at the door and waited for her inevitable death. Shit and she was a virgin still. She was going to be defiled and then killed.
"Mikan. It's just me."
And that's when she burst out crying. Big fat tears rolled down her face, but her voice was scratched up from screaming. All she could do was shiver and futilely wipe her face. She was so glad. So glad that Tono was home.
"Mikan… Are you okay?" his voice barely reaching her over the sound of her blood rushing from adrenaline.
"Yes," she sniffled.
"Shit… Are you… Are you crying?!"
"No," but her stuffy nose gave her away.
A pause.
"I'm sorry."
"No," her voice shook, "I'm just so happy that it's just you."
"And he did that?" her friend shook her head in disgust, "Why didn't you beat his ass?"
Already used to Anna's temper, she smiled because the truth was… Even though the prank still terrified her, she couldn't bring herself to be angry with Tono. That was the single most horrifying moment of her life. She was just grateful that it was just him.
She shrugged, "He made me cookies."
"Cookies? Cookies!" Anna thundered, "You forgave him for cookies?! Mikan, you could've died from a heart attack!"
She almost did too.
"He's so lucky that he doesn't work here anymore because I would kill him for you. That was so messed up," Anna fumed, "Come live with Sumire and me. Stop living with boys!"
"Anna."
Both girls turned to stare at the imposing figure in front of them. The second scariest thing to Mikan was their manager's voice.
His crimson eyes narrowed, "You know you can't hang around the host stand."
She rolled her eyes, but didn't do anything besides relocate herself somewhere else in the restaurant. He watched the pink-haired girl check on her tables before fixing his glare on the brunette.
"What's your rotation, Mikan?"
"It's going from table 11 to table 15 to table 26 to table 32. If there's a four-top, then it would go to table 51," she answered without hesitation. That afternoon had been steady without any pops, so rotation was easier to manage.
"I want to see it written down," he continued his reprimand.
She, like Anna, rolled her eyes, but didn't bother to hide it, "What got your panties in a twist?"
His eyes scorched her with anger, "I'll kill Tono."
"Oh. So you were eavesdropping?" an eyebrow raised.
A derisive snort, "The whole restaurant could hear your tale, Mikan."
"What are you going to do?" she challenged as she nudged him playfully, "You'll spank me when you get home tonight?"
"After I go skin Tono's hide," he replied smoothly, "And use it as our welcome mat."
"So homey," she batted her eyelashes as her hands fluttered over her heart, "You know exactly how to make me feel so protected and cherished with your Neanderthal tendencies."
His eyes crinkled as a ghost of a smile appeared, "So you won't object to me carrying you away, beating my chest?"
"How did you know my hidden fantasies?" she mocked before giggling, "Go away, Natsume. Let me do my job in peace."
He glanced around to make sure no one was looking before kissing her temple and squeezing her hip, "Let me know when you clock out."
She grinned. Who knew half a year ago that she would end up working as a host and sleeping with her manager?
Chapter 1/2
It was an apartment only a college student would ever consider as livable place in the way of squeaking doors and groaning bedframes and impeccably kept living rooms and kitchens with overflowing sinks containing dishes that everyone promised to clean, but avoided like plague. Oh, and cockroaches. Lots and lots of cockroaches.
Not that he had minded, of course; he had been a resident for too long to care. In fact, the one near the recently repaired stove—the burners had been missing since he first moved in—was affectionately named Joe. Joe the breadwinner of his family. Joe the unkillable. Joe the roach that survived through many thrown projectiles and bottles of Raid.
And on the other side of the door of the apartment stood a girl with closed eyes and a racing heartbeat. Her back against the metal as she collected her thoughts. Her brown hair billowed around her as her jaw ticked. She was imagining the space behind the door. She saw it as an uncouth bachelor pad in the way of playboy centerspread covered walls and dirty used condom littered floors and naked women. Lots and lots of naked women. Some were blonde. Some were brunette. Some were exotic. Some were unassuming mousy girls. Either way, she conjured images of all types of women sprawled in that place and shuddered.
Maybe it wasn't too late to sprint over to her best friend and beg for forgiveness. Hotaru had to see reason. Afterall, was it really Mikan's fault that they had nearly been arrested? Was it her fault that the elderly neighbors were old grouches that forgotten the magic of thrumming basses and the excitement of the decisions made by impaired judgement? Was it her fault that Tsubasa had allowed the party to get out of hand and had made edibles in their kitchen? Mikan hadn't encouraged those sorts of activities. But she hadn't prevented it, which was a point that Hotaru had spat out before slamming the door in her face.
If it hadn't been for her boyfriend—Hotaru's not Mikan's since Mikan didn't particularly have a taste for blondes— already relocating her belongings, she would've crawled to beg Hotaru for forgiveness. She would've crawled on broken glass and faced snakes and spiders and other perilous critters and done anything to remove herself from her current fate. Anything.
She gulped and tried to calm herself down. But who was she kidding? This was Akira Tonochi. The Akira Tonochi!
It was already a miracle that she hadn't contracted herpes from breathing the same air as him.
And now she was sentenced to live with him?
She'll be lucky if she was able to live long enough to see tomorrow.
She closed her eyes and turned around to face the door.
Here goes nothi—
"Mikan!" the door burst open with a jubilant Tono.
He then frowned, "Why are you just standing there? You know, there's a door and you have a hand…"
She just stared blankly at his face.
"Uh… Mikan?" he waved his hand in front of her face. She didn't even blink.
"Mikan!" he yelled.
Her name being called didn't even register in her brain. All that was going on in her mind was her replaying the scenario of walking in on him having sex with a faceless girl. She shuddered inwardly.
"For God's sake! Mikan! Blink twice if an alien has invaded your mind and rendered you mute," he snapped his fingers in her face.
Finally, she blinked and then blurted out hysterically, "Please, oh fucking please, tell me that you haven't done the nasty on the couch or on the kitchen table or any other facility that I'll come into contact with!"
It was his turn to blink and stay mute for a beat, "Uh… Are you on drugs or something?"
"If I walk in and see you even partially nude, I might just have to stab you," she flicked out her pocket knife in warning and frantically waved it in his face to make her point, "because EW!"
"Mikan?" he placed a hand over hers to prevent the knife from cutting his hair, "Are you… well?"
"No" she cried out miserably, "I don't want to see other people's vaginas or boobs or anything else, but here I am moving into your apartment!"
Taking her breakdown in stride, he smirked suggestively, "Well, I have another anatomy part that might interest you…"
Instead of laughing, she began waving around her pocket knife and shrieking, "If you even think about dropping your pants…!"
He winced. Her voice was on the same octave as dog whistles.
"I have the living room set up for you. You're welcome by the way," he gingerly placed his hand on her back to usher her inside. Hopefully the neighbors wouldn't call the cops on her with her yelling implications of him being a pervert, "And no, I don't make it a habit of entertaining women at my house; I have the decency to sneak out of theirs, thank you."
He sighed in relief. Finally, finally a ghost of a smile appeared on her lips.
He halted midstep, "Wait."
"Yes?"
"Can you put away your knife first?"
"Oh," she glanced down before continuing on without an ounce of apology, "Sorry."
"Thanks."
Author's Note: Yes, the beginning scene is a snippet from my real life. Although, I was in my bedroom and not my bathroom. But my roommate had pulled that terrible terrible prank and those were the exact words that escaped my mouth when he banged against the door. (Takes place in the same universe and at the same time as Maybe One Day).