Chapter 18

Suddenly, a sharp rap on the apartment door startled him. He sat up, blinking, unsure who it could be. He wasn't expecting anyone.

"Hai! Coming!" he called out, pushing himself to his feet.

He shuffled to the door, peering through the peephole. He saw two men standing in the narrow hallway, both dressed in work clothes, their faces glistening with sweat. One was older, with a weathered face and a toolbox clutched in his hand. The other was younger, his features still carrying the softness of youth, but his eyes already held a certain weariness.

Ryo took a deep breath and opened the door. "Yes?" he said, his voice a little hesitant.

The older man stepped forward, his gaze taking in the hallway, the peeling wallpaper, and Ryo himself. "Are you Ryo-san?" he asked, his voice raspy but polite.

"Yes, I am," Ryo replied.

"We're here to fix the… ah… issues," the older man said, glancing at his younger companion. "Mr. Hayato contacted us to repair your apartment."

Ryo's eyes widened slightly. "Oh," he said. "Yes, yes, of course. That's wonderful. Please, come in." He stepped back, gesturing for them to enter.

The two men squeezed past him into the small apartment. The older man, who introduced himself as Mr. Ren surveyed the room with a practiced eye. The younger man, Keigo, trailed behind, carrying a larger tool bag.

"So, the kitchen sink first, I believe?" Mr. Ren asked, turning back to Ryo.

"Yes, please," Ryo said, relieved that something was finally being done.

The tiny kitchen was even smaller with two extra people in it. Mr.Ren immediately went to work, examining the leaky faucet and the corroded pipes beneath the sink. Keigo stood behind him, handing him tools as needed. Ryo watched them, fascinated by their efficiency and the way they seemed to know exactly what to do.

"The water damage in the bathroom is quite extensive," Mr. Ren commented after a few minutes. "We'll have to replace some of the floorboards. And that cracked window… we brought a replacement pane with us."

Ryo nodded, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over him. "Thank you. I really appreciate it."

"It's our job, Ryo-san," Mr. Ren said with a small smile. "Mr. Hayato can be… slow to respond, but he usually comes through eventually."

As Mr. Ren worked on the sink, Kenji moved to the bathroom to assess the water damage. Ryo followed him, feeling a need to explain the situation.

"It's been leaking for weeks," he said, pointing to the damp patch on the floor. "I've tried to mop it up, but it just keeps coming back."

Keigo knelt down, examining the floorboards. "It's pretty bad," he said, his voice surprisingly deep for his age. "We'll have to get this fixed before it causes any more damage."

For the next few hours, the apartment was a flurry of activity. Mr. Ren and Keigo worked diligently, their movements precise and efficient. The sounds of hammering, sawing, and the clinking of tools filled the air. Ryo, initially unsure of what to do, offered them drinks and tried to stay out of their way.

He learned a little about them as they worked. Mr. Ren had been a plumber for over thirty years, inheriting the business from his father. He was a quiet, unassuming man, but his hands were skilled and his knowledge vast. Keigo was his apprentice, eager to learn and full of youthful energy, even though he tried to hide it.

As they worked, the atmosphere in the apartment began to shift. The oppressive heat still lingered, but it was somehow less unbearable. The sounds of construction were no longer annoying, but rather a sign of progress. Ryo found himself feeling lighter, more hopeful than he had in weeks.

The sink was fixed, the bathroom floorboards replaced, and the new windowpane was installed. The only thing left was the ceiling fan.

Mr. Ren looked up at the fan, which was still wobbling precariously. "That's a tricky one," he said. "The wiring looks old and frayed. We might have to replace the whole thing."

Ryo sighed. "I was afraid of that," he said. "I tried to fix it myself, but I couldn't figure it out."

"We have a replacement fan in the truck," Keigo offered. "It's not the same style as your old one, but it'll do the job."

Ryo hesitated. He didn't have much money, and he hadn't expected to have to pay for a new fan. But he knew that the old one was a safety hazard.

"Okay," he said finally. "Let's do it."

Replacing the ceiling fan proved to be the most challenging task. The wiring was indeed old and brittle, and the screws were rusted in place. Mr. Ren and Keigo worked together, carefully disconnecting the old fan and installing the new one.

As they worked, Ryo noticed something about their dynamic. Mr. Ren, the experienced craftsman, patiently guiding Keigo, the eager apprentice. There was a sense of respect and camaraderie between them, a bond forged through years of working together.

He felt a pang of loneliness, a longing for that kind of connection. He had few friends, and his family lived far away. He often felt like he was adrift in the vastness of Tokyo, a solitary figure in a sea of millions.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the new ceiling fan was installed. Mr. Ren flicked the switch, and the blades began to spin smoothly and silently.

"There you go, Ryo-san," he said with a smile. "Good as new."

Ryo looked up at the fan, feeling a sense of relief. The apartment felt different, somehow brighter and more comfortable.

"Thank you," he said, his voice sincere. "You guys did an amazing job."

Mr. Ren and Keigo began to pack up their tools, their movements tired but satisfied.

"We're glad we could help," Mr. Ren said. "Just let Mr. Hayato know if you have any other problems." He chuckled. "Although hopefully, you won't for a while."

Ryo smiled. He knew that Mr. Hayato would probably ignore any future complaints, but he felt a sense of optimism that he hadn't felt in a long time.

He walked them to the door, thanking them again for their work.

"Have a good day, Ryo-san," Mr. Ren said as he stepped out into the hallway. "Goodbye."

Keigo nodded politely. "Goodbye, Ryo-san."

Ryo watched them walk down the hallway, their figures disappearing around the corner. He closed the door, leaning against it for a moment, a sense of quiet contentment washing over him.

The apartment was still small and cramped, but it was no longer broken. The sink didn't leak, the bathroom floor was solid, the window was intact, and the ceiling fan spun silently. It was a small victory, but it felt significant.

He walked back into the living room and lay down on his futon, staring up at the new ceiling fan. The cool air circulated gently, chasing away the oppressive heat. He closed his eyes, feeling a sense of peace he hadn't felt in months.