What are men even good for?– Ayako Matsuzaki thought vehemently as her apartment key scratched in the lock and she flung open her front door– besides opening jars, moving furniture, and killing bugs?
Kicking off her heels and dropping her purse, Ayako immediately set to erasing the face of the man who had successfully ruined one of her very few Saturdays off. He had been the son of one of the nurses who worked the night shift with Ayako at The University Of Tokyo Hospital. Ayako had gone into the arrangement with more hope than she probably should have after two other failed dates just that month...
So much for that.
Looking to cool her temper a bit, Ayako began rummaging around her small kitchen. Locating a glass, she closed her cabinet with a bang. Opening the fridge, she closed it with a slam. Ayako stood at her kitchen counter taking angry swallows of cold Brita water. Then with a slight pang of guilt, it occurred to her she might have been a bit too loud for it being midnight.
But the sudden sound of a running shower put her mind at ease.
That's right. Rocker Monk is always up at this time.
Ayako had never actually crossed paths with Rocker Monk. He had moved into the unit directly next to her about a month ago. What Ayako had learned about her neighbor had all come through the wall. That he was in fact a he was made certain after hearing him sing (loudly) in the shower (which was inconveniently located next to her kitchen), and...the chanting. When Ayako first heard it, frankly it had kind of weirded her out. She had considered calling apartment management...but after week, she (grudgingly) found it somewhat soothing. It wasn't hurting anyone, so she let it be.
Ayako attributed her passing curiosity in him (after having never given a second though to her previous neighbors in that unit) to them keeping similar schedules. Ayako worked graveyard shifts at the hospital. She assumed she was the only person in her building sleeping until four in the afternoon, whose work day didn't start until eleven-thirty at night. But then came Rocker Monk. Who was silent as a ghost all day, and only active at night. Between ten and eleven Ayako could always count on the shower kicking on, and then he was out the door, off to...whatever his job was. After hearing him regularly practicing bass guitar, Ayako began the amusing idea that he was in a rock band.
He's late tonight, Ayako thought as Rocker Monk began singing.
He wasn't half bad and Ayako decided listen in while finishing the dishes left in her sink. Afterward, she found herself going to bed in a relatively good mood.
The next night, Ayako was back to slamming cabinets again. She was in a flustered mood, running behind. She had taken the world's quickest shower, and with her hair still wet, she was attempting to cobble together a decent breakfast. She was about to work a double and she wanted something decent in her stomach. But the damn jam just wouldn't open.
Cursing in frustration, Ayako was considering just chucking the thing...when she heard the shower turn on next door. She stared down at the offending jar in her hand.
What are men even good for?
Ayako gave it fifteen minutes. She busied herself blow drying her hair, touching up her makeup, throwing on her scrubs. Then, putting two pieces of bread in the toaster, she grabbed the jar of jam, and left her apartment.
A moment later, Ayako was standing in front of Rocker Monk's door, knocking firmly. It took a good bit of knocking (clearly he didn't have guests often), but then the lock slid over and there stood a tall man in the doorway. Ayako took him in in a blink– his long blonde hair pulled back in a low ponytail, his broad shoulders, the black long sleeve v-neck sweater he was wearing– and then she was thrusting the jar of jam into his hands.
"Can you open this?"
As not to drop it, Rocker Monk accepted the jar, but was looking between it and her with an expression that was partly interested, partly confused.
"Do we...know each other?"
Ayako, arms crossed, impatiently nodded.
"Of course. You're–" Ayako hesitated here, almost calling him by his nickname, "Bou...Bou-san. And I'm your neighbor who needs help opening this jar."
Rocker Monk blinked at her, taking in her answer. Something like an impressed spark lit his eyes,
"Bou-san? What makes you call me that?"
"I heard you chanting."
"Oh?"
"What happened? You run away from the temple?"
The monk was smiling by this time, a bit self consciously he rubbed at the back of his neck.
"Actually...yeah. I couldn't make music there."
"Ha, I knew it."
"You could hear that too?"
"Sorry but, I'm running short on time. Can you open that thing or not?"
His attention returned to the jar in his hands, Bou-san gave the lid a deft twist and with a satisfying pop, it opened. The monk held it out to her.
"There you go."
Ayako flashed a smile and took back the jam. With a wave she was already backing down the hall, towards her apartment.
"Thanks, neighbor."
He waved back, and peering out of his door frame, he called back to her, "It's Takigawa, Houshou."
"Nice to meet you, Rocker Monk."
Still smiling, Ayako closed her apartment door and set about making a reasonable breakfast, having just enough time to stuff toast in her mouth.
That's what men are good for.
Weeks passed by. Ayako worked a blur of twelve and sixteen hours shifts. She listened in on countless songs sung by the monk in the shower. She swore he was even louder than before. On purpose. More often than not, she found herself wanting toast with jam on her days off. Visits next door became a somewhat regular thing.
Ayako learned that Rocker Monk– or as she now called him– Bou-san, was in fact in a band. A small indie one, that played mostly night gigs. He learned she was a nurse at a major hospital. She offered her services if he was ever choking to death. Or had a heart attack. She was well trained in the Heimlich Maneuver and CPR.
That spring Ayako was granted a much deserved vacation. After being lavishly lazy the first two days, she was struck with a sudden inspiration. On a bright Sunday morning she drug herself out of bed, threw open her blinds and windows and decided to rearrange her living room.
An hour into the project, Ayako was sweating and cursing over her stubborn couch that just wouldn't move. About to give the whole thing up– she had a dawning realization.
Exchanging the sweats she was cleaning in for a pair of jeans and a tank top, Ayako walked the familiar path to her neighbor's door. Knowing it was hours before he would even be conscious, she hesitated in her plan, but then knocked anyways.
What are men even good for?
It took more pounding than usual, but eventually the monk answered the door. Ayako raised her eyebrows at the sight of the still half asleep man before her.
Hair loose at his shoulders, he was wearing boxer shorts...and no shirt.
"Ah, crap. I thought it was an emergency–" he started to explain, attempting to cover his bare chest.
"It is an emergency. I need you to move my couch."
Bou-san put on a shirt and the couch got moved.
That's what men are good for.
The next day decided Ayako decided she wanted to move her bed. And then her computer desk. Rocker Monk got very little sleep the whole of Ayako's vacation. But occasionally she fed him. They had dinner twice. Lunch once. Coffee several times.
After vacation Ayako gained the nickname Miko. Having been in her apartment, Bou-san noticed the number of plants that filled the space. He appreciated her green thumb and told her she reminded him of a shrine maiden. Ayako snorted at that, but the name stuck.
At the start of summer, Ayako was having trouble sleeping. It was incredibly muggy in Tokyo. On her night off, after tossing and turning for hours, Ayako stared at the ceiling in defeat. Sitting up in bed, she decided she would read, hoping that would make her tired enough to fall asleep. Reaching for her lamp, Ayako saw the clock read two in the morning.
Great.
Clicking the light on, Ayako reached for the book she had started six months ago– and then froze.
A spider. Hairy and the size of her hand, was crawling across the foot of her bed.
With a cry, Ayako jumped up– scrambling to stand at the top of her mattress. Back pressed against the wall, Ayako's mind raced, but every solution seemed to involve getting off the bed and facing indeterminate danger. How the hell was she going to kill it?
And then, a flash of genius through her blind panic. A question that solved the problem.
What are men even good for?
Heart pounding, Ayako reached down, fumbling for her phone sitting on the nightstand nearest her. Her finger hit speed dial. Three rings later, a gruff voice answered.
"Wha– Ayako, what is–"
"Bou-san get over here right now there's a huge spider and if it devours me you'll have nobody to listen to you sing in the shower–"
It felt like a century, but Bou-san was over in an instant. Having exchanged keys a month ago (what if there was a medical emergency?), he came barreling into Ayako's apartment, a broom in hand.
"Where?" he demanded as he entered the bedroom, waving the broom around.
"On my bed!"
But it wasn't. In all of Ayako's commotion, she had kicked her blankets off. The spider was no longer anywhere to be seen.
Ten minutes of turning on all the lights, sorting through all the blankets, doing a sweep of the whole apartment...and there was still, nothing.
"Those are nice," Bou-san spoke, leaning against Ayako's door frame where they had taken up post to watch for the spider.
"What's nice? None of this is nice–"
"Your pajamas."
Ayako tore her gaze away from the floor to glance down at herself. They were her lacy ones.
Oh well.
"Keep your eyes on the prize, monk. It's almost three in morning, where the hell is this demon spider?"
"Wait, what's that brown thing...?"
"What?!"
Ayako launched at Bou-san, and was clinging to him (practically climbing him...), before he could even finish his sentence, hitting him in the arm, demanding that he kill it.
But upon further inspection, there was nothing to kill. The brown thing turned out to be just one of Ayako's slippers. Exhausted and flustered, Ayako finally released the monk, head in her hands.
"I'm just not going to sleep tonight. I'll just call the office as soon as they open and have them bomb this place."
Bou-san chewed at his lip, thoughtful.
"You have to sleep."
Ayako sent him a sharp look,
"Not with that thing in here."
"No...I don't blame you there, but you could sleep...you know– at my place, if you wanted."
There was a beat as Ayako's foggy mind processed this offer.
"Sleep. At your apartment?"
"Yeah, like on my couch. I haven't seen a spider for weeks, I think it's probably safe."
"Yeah."
"Yeah?"
"Sure."
That's what men are good for.
Trading her apartment for his, Ayako did finally manage to get some sleep that night, comfortably tucked into the monk's bed, while the monk (somehow) ended up on the couch.
The summer's humidity brought mosquitoes. And mosquitoes brought Bou-san over several times a week. The monk teased her that her love of nature didn't seem to embrace all of it and the little spirits of the bugs she was having him squash would haunt her. Ayako balked at this, but that was how they got started on the topic of the paranormal. Apparently they shared a mutual interest in it, and more than one night was spent with them exchanging chilling real life experiences.
Ayako didn't want to admit it, but the more she got to know Bou-san, the longer her list of what men were even good for seemed to grow.
Cooking.
Like when Bou-san surprised her with a real breakfast after she slogged home from a particularly harsh double shift at the hospital.
That's what men are good for.
Handy work.
Like when her washing machine broke and apartment maintenance said it was back ordered and would take a month to be installed. One YouTube tutorial later and Bou-san had it fixed.
That's what men are good for.
Company.
Like when Bou-san stayed up with her all night, taking her mind off the head cold she caught, watching ridiculous horror films, and telling bad jokes.
That's what men are good for.
Standing on her deck, the season's first snowflakes falling through the dark, Ayako studied the monk beside her, and found she was a bit afraid that she had come to like her list a little too much. Especially the part she just added...
"I can't believe it's really snowing."
"You're cheeks are red. Pretty cold, huh?"
"Hm."
"Want me to come a little closer, share some warmth? Oh look at that, it's really coming down now."
What are men even good for?
Love.
And she kissed him.