Sango sighed as she sat down on her new sofa for the first time. She had to admit, she'd been pretty nervous about moving to California all by herself, but so far she'd done a good job of supporting herself. Right away she landed a job as a florist, which was just fine with Sango. The flowers reminded her of the open fields of her home town, and it paid enough to support her daily necessities and monthly rent. She also started teaching yoga and self defense classes on the weekends once she realized going to school part time and trying to live on her own was more expensive than she would have liked.
Nevertheless, Sango had found herself a nice place to live. It was nowhere near as comfortable as the home she'd grown up in, but a two bedroom apartment in a not-so-dangerous part of California was still good to her. And the rent was cheap enough for her to save up money for nice new furniture in just three months. Running her hands along the smooth leather of her new sofa, Sango smiled and gave her legs an excited shake. Slowly, she would transform this apartment into a nice looking home.
Along with the affordable rent, Sango relished in the fact that she had actual nice neighbors. Across the hall from her lived a thirty year old Italian immigrant who claimed he would someday become a famous hollywood director. He mostly kept to himself, writing screenplays all day. The only times he and Sango ever interacted were when he was giving her jars of homemade tomato sauce, after finding that she used store bought sauce that was "an insult to his culture". Diagonal from him and to Sango's left lived a small family of three, who were very welcoming and helpful to Sango when she first arrived in the states. And finally, the apartment to her right was occupied by an old white widower. He'd apparently fought in the Korean war and had met his wife while in Korea. He always told Sango she reminded him of his deceased wife, and even though she would always remind him that she was Japanese, not Korean, he would just wave his hand and say, "I know, I know". Sango guessed to Americans they were all the same.
Loud music and thumping from above made Sango snap out of her thoughts, and her smile disappeared instantly. She sighed, clenching her jaw in annoyance. Well, almost all of her neighbors were nice. When she first moved in three months ago, a nice, elderly Hispanic woman named Marisol had lived above her. She was nice, and Sango helped her whenever she could. Marisol had never married, so her only living relatives were her nieces and nephews that would visit with their kids every week. They were always welcoming, and had made sure to thank Sango for her help any time they saw her.
About a month ago Marisol passed away, and Sango had wondered along with the rest of her neighbors what kind of person would move in to her apartment. Sango hadn't thought it that big of a deal, until the person actually moved in. She didn't know who they were, but every night since they moved in they had blasted what sounded like old punk rock music. The loudness and thumping was driving Sango insane, and finally she put her foot down. Sango had had enough.
Taking the stairs by two, Sango rushed up to the next floor. She could tell her cheeks were flushed with anger and she was glad. Never one to be shy of necessary confrontation, Sango wanted to show this person just how pissed off they had made her. She banged on the door three times, maybe too aggressively, but her excuse was that she wanted to be heard over the music. When the door opened, she faltered. What she saw was definitely not what she expected.
The music had cut off suddenly and Sango heard a man's voice say "Shit!". The door swung open to reveal a man around Sango's age, which she determined to be Japanese based on the familiar features of his face. Her eyes didn't stay on his face too long though, considering he was very much shirtless, and the only thing covering his lower section was a white bed sheet that he had wrapped around his waist. From it's wrinkled, lopsided appearance, he'd done so in a hurry, too. If Sango's cheeks had been flushed in anger before, they were definitely darkening now, but for a different reason.
So...the music...and the thumping…? Oh god. Sango wanted to cover her face in embarrassment. She'd always assumed the person above was just dancing around or throwing a small party. She never assume this!
The man's eyes widened once he took in Sango's appearance, which annoyed her all over again, and reminded her of why she was there. He smiled at her and leaned against his half closed door. "My, how the gods must be smiling down on me today. What could I ever have done to be blessed with such a beautiful woman at my door?"
Sango's upper lip curled up in disgust almost instantly, and the man had the nerve to give a little laugh in response. Making her face blank, Sango kept her tone neutral while she spoke. "Listen," she started, crossing her arms over her chest, "I live below you, and I would appreciate some peace and quiet once in awhile, alright?"
"Completely understandable," the man responded, suddenly very serious. He leaned forward to take her hand in both of his and said, "Please accept my sincerest apologies, Miss…?" He let his words trail off in question, and Sango answered while jerking her hand out of his.
"My name is Sango, if you must know." God, what a pervert, she thought, fighting the urge to wipe her hand off on her jeans. Just then, a bottle blonde appeared behind the man. She looked to be completely naked, but was thankfully shielded from Sango's view by the man's body. Wrapping her arms sensually around the man from behind, the blonde smiled at Sango. It gave her the creeps.
"Who's this, Miroku? Is she coming to play with us? She's really pretty."
What?! Sango couldn't help but think, finding it extremely hard to keep her face blank. Without her permission, her eyes narrowed in repugnance and the man was obviously trying to fight off a smile at her discomfort. He turned his head away from Sango to address the woman behind him. "Ah, no. This is Sango, she lives below me. It seems we've been a bit too loud, my dear." Turning back to Sango, the man began to retreat back into his apartment, slowly closing the door as well. "Sorry to bother you, Sango. I promise we'll keep it down from now on."
And with that, the door was shut and Sango was left standing alone in the hallway. Before she made her way down the steps, the music was back on, but this time a lot lower. She couldn't hear it from her apartment, which was an improvement. Every now and then Sango would hear a thud from her ceiling and cringe. What a pervert, she thought to herself, finishing off a cup of tea before heading out. She couldn't stand to be there knowing what was going on above her. She only hoped they would be finished by the time she returned.