Love accidental to addiction

He opened the door a crack, peering out with suspicion.

Standing in the doorway was Mr. Hiyato, their landlord. Mr. Hiyato was a man etched with the stories of sixty years – stories of hard work, disappointment, and a rapidly expanding waistline. He was, in Ryo's opinion, the poster child for the perils of cheap beer and an unhealthy obsession with pachinko.

"Yes?" Ryo said, trying to sound polite despite the throbbing in his head.

Mr. Hiyato's face, already red from the summer heat, seemed to deepen in color. He puffed out his chest (or what he could of it over his belly), and glared at Ryo. "Yes? Is that all you have to say? It's me, your landlord! Yes!"

Ryo suppressed a groan. "Good morning, Mr. Hiyato." He hoped a little politeness might soften the blow. He was wrong.

"Morning? Morning? It's almost noon! And what kind of morning is it for me when I'm still waiting for my rent?" Mr. Hiyato's voice rose in pitch, attracting the attention of a nosy neighbor across the hall.

Ryo winced. "About that, Mr. Hiyato…"

"About that! Don't 'about that' me! I'm giving you one month! One month, do you hear? The rent should be paid within a month, otherwise…" He trailed off, his eyes narrowing. "Otherwise…"

Ryo braced himself. "Otherwise what?"

Mr. Hiyato seemed to struggle for the right words, his face contorting in a mixture of frustration and indignation. Ryo saw his opportunity.

"Uncle," Ryo interjected, his eyes darting downwards, "your belly is… out."

Mr. Hiyato sputtered, his hand instinctively flying to his stomach, attempting to tuck in the offending bulge. "What? What did you say?"

Ryo feigned innocence. "Nothing, Uncle. Just, uh, a little wardrobe malfunction." He couldn't help the smirk that played on his lips.

Mr. Hiyato, thoroughly flustered, seemed to momentarily forget his original purpose. "Wardrobe malfunction? What kind of nonsense is that? I'm talking about rent!" He puffed out his chest again, seemingly determined to reclaim his authority. "You have money to drink! I see you coming home late at night, stumbling around like a drunken fool! But no money for rent! Do you think this rent is being given away for free? Do you think I'm made of money?"

Ryo leaned against the doorframe, trying to appear nonchalant. "Uncle, do you think money grows on trees?" It was a line his grandfather used to say, and for some reason, it seemed appropriate in this ridiculous situation.

Mr. Hiyato's face turned a shade of purple that Ryo hadn't thought possible. "What nonsense! What kind of insolence is this? When are you going to pay the rent? Look at his arrogance! As if he's a president! Living in my property, drinking like a king, and then complaining about… trees!"

Ryo decided to try a different tactic. "Uncle," he said, adopting a tone of exaggerated concern, "don't you have to go to work? I wouldn't want you to be late. You know how Mr. Sato gets when people are late."

He knew Mr. Hiyato dreaded his boss, a notoriously grumpy man with a penchant for micromanagement. The mention of Mr. Sato seemed to momentarily deflate Mr. Hiyato's bluster.

Just then, a shrill ring pierced the air. Mr. Tanaka's phone.

He fumbled for it in his pocket, his eyes darting back and forth between Ryo and the ringing phone. He answered it with a harried, "Hello? Yes, Hiyato speaking… Yes, I'm on my way… Traffic was… yes, sir, right away!"

He hung up, his face a mask of anxiety. "I will see you later on," he said, pointing a finger at Ryo. "Don't think you've gotten away with anything!"

He hurried off down the hallway, muttering about Mr. Sato and traffic.

Ryo watched him go, then let out a long, shaky breath. "Ha," he said to himself, leaning back against the door. "Close one."

He closed the door and leaned against it, letting out an relieved sigh. "That was a bit too close.

Ryo surveyed his apartment with renewed disdain. It was a small, cramped space, barely big enough for a bed, a small table, and a precarious stack of dirty laundry. The air hung heavy with the scent of damp and despair.

"Great," he muttered. "Now I have a month to come up with the rent. And I still have no idea how I'm going to do it."

He glanced at cat, who was now perched on the windowsill, basking in the morning sun. The cat looked completely unconcerned with Ryo's financial woes.

"Easy for you to say," Ryo grumbled. "You don't have to worry about rent. You just waltz in here, eat my food, and sleep on my face." and whatelse poop on my face**

Whiskers flicked its tail in response, as if to say, "And what of it?"

Ryo sighed