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A new beginning, his therapist had said. A fresh start, a wonderful opportunity to figure out who he was. After years of living for somebody else, someone who stifled any and all aspects of what made him Tatta, the man with his own wishes and needs, wants and aspirations, he was now free to pursue his own happiness. Free to do as he wanted.
If only he knew what the fuck that was.
Well, not being a mover, Tatta decided as he heaved another heavy box from the ground and into his arms. Especially not with a broken elevator.
Just his luck, really.
Tatta’s shoulders hurt, and he didn’t even want to think about the countless boxes he still needed to carry. Because today was moving day, even though the two “friends” he had asked to help him weeks ago had decided to ignore that, citing sudden important family matters they had to attend. Left him to his expired lease and to his depressingly empty bank account that made hiring professional movers impossible.
Honestly, he felt like crying.
Well, technically he had felt like crying for months. Ever since that fateful day, when he had found the strength to leave his abusive asshole of a girlfriend, never once looking back.
Well, he looked back a lot, especially once he started therapy. Learning and healing and all that stuff. But you got the idea. Never once looking back with the urge to fall right back into said relationship, thank god. And that was a start. It was all that mattered, really.
Crying was still a very real possibility though, Tatta thought as he stared at the first of many flights of stairs that stood between him and his new apartment. But what would it help, really? What would it change? Nothing, because while crying made his soul feel lighter and his mind freer, it didn’t change anything about the weight of his boxes or the number of stairs ahead of him.
“One step after another”, he murmured. “It isn’t a sprint, it’s a marathon, and you will make it through, even if you don’t believe it now.” It’s what his therapist said about recovery, but Tatta felt it was very much applicable to his current situation as well.
He made it to the second floor – just two more left – before a quiet voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
“I’m sorry, but you have to put the boxes to the side.”
Tatta turned around and met the apologetical smile of a woman in sportswear. She was very short, with chin length hair and gentle eyes and a hamper with clothing against her hip.
“Sorry?”
“The boxes you left at the entrance. They’re blocking the fire exit. Normally, I wouldn’t say anything, but maintenance in this complex is very strict when it comes to things such as this, so I thought warning you would be best.”
“Oh”, Tatta said, blinking against a drop of sweat that had gotten into his eye. Shit, that burned. “Okay, thanks for the heads up. I’ll put the boxes away as soon as I’ve gotten this one up to the apartment.”
He expected the woman to leave, but she stayed, looking at him thoughtfully. “Do you have no one helping you?”
“Afraid not”, Tatta said, shrugging. “It’s fine though. Nice to meet you, by the way. I’m Tatta. Fourth floor on the left.” He smiled, hoping he didn’t sound too dismissive. She was nice and all, but his shoulders were hurting like hell, and he really didn’t think standing around with a box in his arms would work out for much longer.
“I’m Usagi. I live on this floor with my boyfriend.”
“Cool”, Tatta said. Did his smile seem forced? God, his arms felt like they could fall right off any moment now. “Maybe we’ll see each other then. And thanks again for the warning.”
He turned around and made his way up the next flight of stairs. Dimly, he heard Usagi walk down the hallway and open one of the apartment doors. He hoped he hadn’t been too rude to her.
He got the box up to his new apartment, only to find out that the light switches for three of the rooms didn’t work. It wouldn’t have been a problem, but his bathroom didn’t have a window and his bedroom window bordered a very tall and very lush tree that shielded it from most of the sunlight lighting up the rest of the apartment.
Fucking great.
Tatta allowed himself two minutes of sitting in the dark, with his legs crossed and his face in his hands, before he heard silent steps outside his apartment door. He feared it was Usagi again, and he didn’t want her to get angry with him about the boxes, not on his first day, so he got up, straightened his shoulders, and made his way downstairs.
There, he began pushing the boxes away, hoping that he wasn’t inadvertently blocking off something else in the process. He was about halfway through the boxes when he heard somebody coming down the stairs behind him. He turned around and found a tall man his age jogging down the last flight of stairs before coming to a stop right in front of him.
“Usagi said you needed help carrying some stuff?”, he said with a small smile. He had big doe eyes and shaggy hair that he was swiping away from his face every few seconds.
“Oh, that’s really nice, but you don’t have to”, Tatta tried to assure him, but the man was already picking up a box.
“Don’t worry about it, I’m happy to help. I’m Arisu, by the way. Usagi’s boyfriend. She said those need to go up to the fourth floor?”
Tatta could only nod dumbly before Arisu turned around and climbed the stairs, a lot faster than Tatta previously had and with jealousy inducing agility. Shaking his head, Tatta continued pushing boxes to the side, until he was interrupted again, this time by another woman descending the stairs.
“Hi”, she grinned, her dreadlocks swinging back and forth excitedly, and Tatta couldn’t help but grin back. Her smile was kind of addicting. “I hear you need a strong woman to help you out?”
“I mean … sure”, Tatta said, deciding to just roll with it now. “One can never have too many of those in one’s life.”
“Well said”, she grinned before offering him her hand. “I’m Kuina. I’m neighbors with Usagi and Arisu. My wife would have helped as well, but she’s pregnant and I’d rather carry two boxes at once than have her overexert herself. Ann calls me over-protective, but you know what? I’m fine with that, honestly. Have been called much worse. Anyway, I hear you’re Niragi’s new neighbor now. Don’t let yourself be fooled by his scowl and his foul mouth, he’s a sweetheart, honestly. But that means those go up to the fourth floor, right? A shame that elevator’s still broken, we’ve already submitted a complaint, but you know how long those things take. But not to worry, we’ll get you settled in no time, I promise.”
And with that, she picked up a box, threw him another grin and disappeared up the stairs with even more vigor than Arisu had. Tatta could only stare after her, shaking his head slightly.
After he finally finished unblocking the fire exit, he made his way up the stairs with his own box. On the third floor, he met Kuina again, who winked at him before squeezing past him, presumably to get another box.
In his apartment, he found Arisu poking around the fuse box, with Usagi looking over his shoulder. “This is even worse than it was when we moved in”, he mumbled, shaking his head. “Nothing in here is correctly labeled, so I wouldn’t even know where to begin, honestly.”
“Then it’s a good thing I already asked Niragi to come.”
Arisu turned around to his girlfriend, his eyebrow raised. “Niragi was awake this early?”
“Well … he is now”, Usagi said with a smirk.
Oh no.
“You really don’t have to…”, Tatta stuttered just when he heard the apartment door across the hallway open. A deep voice mumbled something, then Tatta’s apartment door was pushed open, and a man walked in and almost stumbled into Tatta, who was still blocking the hallway.
Oh.
Oh shit.
Tatta was doomed.
Because apparently, Usagi had found it necessary to wake up the most gorgeous guy Tatta had ever laid his eyes on. And now that guy was standing in his doorway, yawning, and scratching at the nape of his neck. He was tall, with dark hair that reached over his shoulders, piercings in his lip and eyebrow and thin-framed glasses on his nose. He wore dark sweatpants and an over-sized black sweater, and he looked as if he had just rolled out of bed.
Tatta wanted to climb him like a tree.
Respectfully, obviously. After getting a cup of coffee into him, because the guy looked like he could really use one.
“Where’s the fire?”, Niragi – presumably – mumbled before his eyes fell onto Tatta.
Tatta wasn’t sure, because the lighting conditions in the apartment were still very much a work in progress, but he thought he made out a light blush on the guy’s cheeks.
Huh.
No, he was probably just seeing things. Sweaty and exhausted Tatta’s normally didn’t make good swooning material for gorgeous new neighbors, after all.
“This is even worse than it was in our apartment, Niragi. I have no idea how Danma managed to live here with how fucked up this is. Oh, and this is Tatta, by the way. Your new neighbor.”
Tatta smiled sheepishly; his arms still firmly wrapped around the box.
Niragi nodded before turning to Arisu. “I don’t think Danma was here very often. Pretty sure he only used it to sell his stuff.” He took a step closer and eyed the fuse box warily. “Let me guess … nothing in this fucking apartment works?”
“Basically”, Arisu nodded. “Most of it blows as soon as you try to turn stuff on.”
“So, the usual then.”, Niragi sighed before turning around. “I’m gonna get my tools. I’m not having a repeat of what happened when Kuina and Ann moved in. Felt that one for days.” And with that, he was gone again, leaving behind a relieved looking Usagi, a grinning Arisu and Tatta, who was still standing in the hallway with his box in his arms, staring dumbly after him.
“Don’t worry, he’s really good with this stuff. He’ll figure out what goes where and then you’ll have light in no time”, Arisu assured him, and Tatta, while still feeling slightly guilty for involving so many people in his move already, actually kind of believed him.
♧
What followed was a day of swearing at whoever had been the one planning the wiring in the apartments.
But it was also a day of laughter, of shared coffee and of small smiles that turned progressively wider the longer the day went on.
It was a day of empty pizza boxes stacked on top of each other in the hallway, of half-assembled furniture and of cracked beer cans on the windowsill.
It was a day of anecdotes and of quiet moments of silently working side by side, it was a day of getting to know each other and of feeling like Tatta had been part of their little friend group for years.
It was a day of splinters and of touches that felt like lightning, of gentle fingers placing a band aid on Tatta’s skin and of exchanged looks that promised something exciting, something new. Not right now, but maybe in time, and that was already so much more than Tatta had thought possible.
Yes, it truly was a day of new beginnings.