---
The next morning started peacefully.
Ken woke up, neatly folded his blanket, did 20 squats, brushed his teeth exactly for three minutes, and swept the living room floor. He was halfway through organizing the spice rack alphabetically when the beast emerged.
Arashi Himura.
Wearing nothing but black sweatpants hanging low on his hips, hair wet from a lazy shower, and yawning like he'd been forced out of bed by a higher power.
Ken didn't even flinch. He had learned to stop reacting to Arashi's shirtless existence.
Mostly.
"You're up early again," Arashi muttered.
"Some of us have discipline," Ken replied without looking.
"Oh? So folding towels like you're on some game show is discipline now?"
Ken paused, holding up the towel he had just ironed. "Yes."
Arashi blinked. "You… iron towels?"
Ken turned. "Of course."
"…Why."
"Because it's proper."
"…You're weird."
Ken smiled sweetly. "Thank you."
Arashi snorted and walked to the fridge. "Where's my milk?"
"I moved it to the left side. I rearranged everything."
Arashi opened the fridge and froze.
The drinks were in color order.
The vegetables were arranged by shape.
The eggs were labeled with the date and time of purchase.
"…Are you okay," Arashi asked slowly.
"Perfectly fine."
"I feel judged by the broccoli."
Ken clapped the fridge shut and handed Arashi a broom. "Your turn."
"For what?"
"Chores. I cleaned the floors and dishes yesterday. Your turn."
Arashi blinked. "I don't do chores."
"Well, you do now."
"No."
"Yes."
Arashi raised an eyebrow. "Make me."
Ken stepped closer. "Don't tempt me."
And that was how the war began.
---
Sabotage Day One: The Detergent Trap
Arashi threw his laundry in the machine, but when he opened it after the spin cycle, every black shirt was stained a suspicious pink.
He stormed into the living room. "Did you put rose-scented softener in my wash?!"
Ken didn't look up from his textbook. "You're welcome."
"I smell like a damn flower shop!"
"You needed it."
Arashi growled and walked away.
---
Sabotage Day Two: The Floor Incident
Arashi mopped the floor. Sloppy. Lazy. Like a toddler playing house.
Ken walked in, took one step—and slipped like a cartoon character.
He caught himself on the coffee table with a dramatic gasp.
"You didn't wring the mop?! It's a puddle in here!"
"Oops," Arashi said. "Guess my bad boy charm extends to housework too."
Ken narrowed his eyes. "That's it."
---
Sabotage Day Three: The Toothbrush Swap
Ken's eyes went wide the moment the mint hit his tongue.
"This isn't my brush."
Arashi walked out of the bathroom holding the identical toothbrush. "Oops. Looks like we're closer than we thought."
Ken nearly gagged. "You—! You—!!"
"You can say it, Princess. We kissed. Indirectly."
Ken threw a slipper at his head.
It missed.
Arashi laughed and disappeared into his room, still grinning.
---
That night, Ken sat at the kitchen table, arms folded, glaring at the wall.
Across the condo, Arashi lay on the sofa, arms behind his head, smirking at the ceiling.
It was childish.
It was exhausting.
It was…
…oddly fun.
Ken wouldn't admit it out loud, but living with Arashi wasn't as unbearable as he expected. Sure, the guy was a walking headache. But sometimes, between the fights and sabotage, Ken caught himself almost smiling.
Almost.
He shook his head.
"No," he whispered to himself. "I still hate him."
Meanwhile, Arashi muttered from the other side:
"Still hate him."
Then paused.
"…Mostly."
---