It was a crisp Saturday morning, the kind where sunlight filtered through the apartment building’s narrow windows, casting golden streaks across the hallway’s gray concrete. Haruto Takemi, still reeling from last night’s lingerie catastrophe, stood outside Aiko Suzuki’s apartment, 2A, clutching a battered laptop bag. His navy hoodie was slightly less crumpled today, but his messy black hair and slipping glasses betrayed his nerves. She asked for my help. Aiko-san. The goddess of 2A. Don’t screw this up, Haruto. His stomach churned, half from excitement, half from dread of another disaster. He adjusted his glasses, muttering, “Just fix her tech. No sparks, no chaos. And definitely no underwear.”

He knocked, the sound echoing faintly. Aiko opened the door, her long dark hair now in a loose ponytail, framing her warm hazel eyes. She wore a fitted navy blouse and jeans, professional yet approachable, though a faint crease between her brows hinted at stress. Behind her, three-year-old Emi peeked out, clutching a stuffed rabbit, her big brown eyes curious.

“Haruto! Right on time,” Aiko said, her smile bright but tinged with relief. “You’re a lifesaver. My home office is a nightmare, and I’ve got a client presentation Monday. Come in, come in.” She stepped aside, gesturing to a small living room cluttered with moving boxes, some labeled “Emi’s Books” and one tucked in the corner marked “Old Keepsakes.”

Haruto shuffled in, nearly tripping over a toy truck. Focus. You’re here to help, not faceplant. The living room was cozy but chaotic, with a low wooden table covered in cables, a printer blinking error lights, and a laptop precariously perched on a cardboard box. Aiko led him to a corner desk where her computer setup was a tangle of wires and outdated hardware.

“So, I need my laptop to sync with the printer, and my email’s acting up,” Aiko explained, hands on her hips. “I tried setting it up, but it’s like the tech gods hate me.” She laughed, but her voice carried a nervous edge. “If I don’t get this sorted, my boss will have my head.”

Haruto nodded, setting down his bag. “No problem, Aiko-san. I’ll take a look.” Tech gods, I can handle. It’s the human goddess that’s the problem. He knelt by the desk, untangling cables, his fingers brushing a power strip that sparked faintly. “Whoa!” he yelped, jerking back, his glasses fogging slightly.

Aiko stifled a giggle. “Careful, tech wizard. Don’t fry yourself.” Emi toddled over, offering Haruto her rabbit. “Bunny help?” she asked, her voice a soft chirp.

Haruto’s heart melted. “Thanks, Emi-chan. Bunny’s my co-pilot.” He gave her a shy smile, setting the rabbit beside the laptop. Aiko’s eyes softened, watching them. She’s so strong, raising Emi alone. How does she do it?

He dove into the setup, connecting the printer and troubleshooting the laptop. The email client was the real mess—messages stuck in the outbox, including a draft to a client labeled “Urgent Proposal.” Haruto’s fingers flew across the keyboard, but as he clicked to test the sync, the draft email sent prematurely. His stomach dropped. Oh no. Nonononono.

“Aiko-san,” he croaked, turning to her. “I, uh, might’ve just sent an email by accident. The urgent one.”

Aiko’s eyes widened, but instead of snapping, she let out a playful groan, running a hand through her ponytail. “Haruto, you’re killing me! But honestly, I probably hit send too early myself last week.” She leaned over his shoulder, her lavender shampoo scent making his brain short-circuit. “Can you fix it? Maybe recall it?”

Relieved she wasn’t mad, Haruto nodded vigorously. “On it!” He pulled up the email server, his hands steadier now. Don’t mess this up again. He managed to recall the email, then configured the client properly, ensuring future messages wouldn’t misfire. The printer hummed to life, spitting out a test page with a crisp company logo.

Aiko clapped, her smile dazzling. “You’re a genius, Haruto! Seriously, I owe you big time.” She glanced at her phone, frowning slightly at a notification—a text from an unknown number, quickly dismissed. “Work’s been insane, and moving hasn’t helped. I was so stressed about this.”

Haruto flushed, pushing up his glasses. “It’s nothing, really. Just some basic configs.” Basic? I just saved her presentation! Okay, stay cool. He noticed Emi drawing on a box, her crayon scribbling over the “Old Keepsakes” label. Wonder what’s in there. Old memories, maybe?

Aiko knelt beside Emi, ruffling her hair. “You’re gonna love it here, kiddo. And Haruto’s our tech hero, right?” Emi nodded, holding up her rabbit. Aiko turned to Haruto, her expression earnest. “Thanks, Haruto. Not just for the tech, but for… being kind. It means a lot.”

Haruto’s heart skipped. Kind? She thinks I’m kind? He mumbled, “Anytime, Aiko-san,” and grabbed his bag, nearly knocking over a lamp. Aiko laughed, steadying it, her fingers brushing his arm. The contact sent a jolt through him, and he bolted for the door, muttering about a “big project deadline” for some tech competition he was prepping for.

As he stumbled back to 2B, Haruto’s mind raced. Aiko-san’s smile. Emi’s bunny. That spark. I’m in deep, aren’t I? Behind him, Aiko watched him go, her smile lingering, unaware that their lives were already tangling like the cables he’d just fixed.