2/7

Source: 5. My house is under a.s.sault by Yakuza

――1 month later.

The long business trip finally over with, I tottered towards my apartment.

「It was a h.e.l.lish month……」

I don"t want to work for a while. I don"t want to look at a PC either. I"m sick of eating out. I just wanna sleep……

While carrying my luggage which had swelled up to double its size of when I left, I walked unsteadily.

Come to think of it, when I was leaving I pushed some tonjiru and white rice onto my neighbor.

I handed it over with the pot and rice cooker, but I wonder what happened to them.

I left without saying I"d be gone for a month, maybe they threw my pot away. Rather than my pot, it"ll suck if they threw away my rice cooker……

Walking while dragging my feet, I recalled the "Ya" guys who I met while leaving for my trip.

I wonder if the tonjiru suited their tastes.

I was weirdly tense at the time, but after I calmed down, I repented「Eh, pushing handmade food onto people who I"ve never even met, aren"t I a sorta bad person?」1

The "Ya" people too, there was also a possibility that they thought「she lost to our intensity and gave it to us, but as if we can eat something that suspicious woman made!」

If so, they must have been troubled by how to dispose of such a large quant.i.ty of food.

Though saying so, I would be happier if they ate it rather than throwing it away.

Let"s pray even a little bit entered their stomachs.

No, wait.

What if the contents were left inside as is, and was returned to outside of my house pot-and-all?

If tonjiru and rice were neglected in front of my house for a month, that"ll be pretty bad……

Oh no, I feel scared.

While contemplating such things, I arrived at my antiquated apartment building.

As I climbed up the cheap-looking stairs, I heard the sound of someone battering a doorbell.

Additionally, the banging of a door.

「Oi, are you not theーre!? Come out, you a.s.shole!!!」

Once again, the sound of banging against a door.

…………That"s scary.

Maybe, it"s that "Ya" neighbor person?

My feet automatically stop.

If my neighbor was rampaging, wasn"t there a good chance the target was my place?

No, calm down, me. It"s not certain my neighbor is raging.

Surely it"s some other yakuza person.

Un, has to be another yakuza. It must be someone chasing a guy down for a loan debt or something. No mistaking it.

No, wait. With yakuza next door and bill collectors dropping by, doesn"t that make the public order of this apartment so poor it"s conversely frightening?

In the confusion, I began thinking about things I wasn"t sure the meaning of.

Nonetheless, it definitely wasn"t a calm situation.

I slowly climbed the stairs as not to sound any footsteps, and at a position where I could barely see/not see the second floor hallway, I stood on my tiptoes.

The door being banged on was……

「It"s my place……!!」

A despondent groan leaked out.

If someone could help clarify this sentence, that would be a big help. ↩

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