This is a story from when I went back to visit my parents a while ago.

My parents live in a public housing complex in western Tokyo known as a "Toei Danchi."

I was sitting in the living room watching TV when I suddenly heard a knock at the door.

"Excuse me! Is anyone home, Mr. [Name]?"

Why doesn't she just ring the doorbell? I thought as I opened the door to find an elderly woman in her sixties standing there, holding a paper bag.

...Who is this?

Smiling brightly, the old woman began to speak.

"Oh... Are you [Name]'s son? Nice to meet you... Are your parents around?"

I went to get my father and returned to the living room, leaving the sound of cheerful chatter echoing from the entryway.

A moment later, my father walked back in holding the paper bag.

When I asked who she was, my dad explained that her name was "Mrs. Sato" and that she had moved into the complex about a year ago.

A few months back, my father had helped her carry some heavy luggage, and they had become friendly neighbors ever since.

According to him, Mrs. Sato had lost her husband at a young age, had no children, and lived all by herself, so she frequently brought over home-cooked food for us.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, my mother had an annoyed look on her face. "Oh boy... Not again," she muttered.

Apparently, every dish Mrs. Sato brought over was either overwhelmingly salty or completely tasteless. My parents couldn't bring themselves to refuse her, but nowadays my mother just threw the food away without touching it.

My mom was about to throw this delivery out too, but feeling a bit guilty after hearing about Mrs. Sato's lonely life, I said, "I'll eat it," and took the paper bag.

Inside, I found some croquettes in a plastic container and a pink Tupperware container.

Hey, this actually looks good, I thought. I microwaved the croquette, drizzled some sauce over it, and took a big bite.

Savory juices poured out.

Turns out it was actually a minced meat cutlet.

Thanks to the rich sauce, the flavor wasn't an issue at all.

...Crunch...

...Wait, what...?

I felt something hard and foreign near my back molars.

Gag...

I spat out the cutlet in my mouth.

What the hell is this...?

Mixed into the wad of chewed food was a long strand of hair... and something that looked like a fingernail.

Gross...

Disgusted, I rushed to the bathroom to rinse out my mouth, and I didn't touch another bite of that cutlet.

By the way, the pink Tupperware container was somehow packed tight with white rice and topped with a thick, green sludge, but I didn't have the courage to try that either.

The next day, my mother asked me to return the Tupperware, so I went to visit Mrs. Sato's apartment.

I checked the nameplate reading "Sato" on the corner apartment and pressed the doorbell.

With a cheerful "Coming!", Mrs. Sato answered the door, dressed neatly and beaming just as she had the day before.

I thanked her and handed back the Tupperware in the paper bag.

However, I just couldn't bring myself to let yesterday's incident go...

"...Um, excuse me..." I blurted out.

"...In the fried food you gave us yesterday... there was a weird... hair, or something..."

Instantly, the smile vanished from Mrs. Sato's face, replaced by a deep, flushed red.

"...YOU GUYS ALWAYS THROW IT OUT ANYWAY, DON'T YOU?!"

She screamed at the top of her lungs before slamming the door shut in my face.

Stunned, I stood there frozen for a while.

About three days later, while waiting for the elevator to head back to my own home, I ran into Mrs. Sato again.

I cast my eyes downward, unable to say a word, when—

"Hello there! Heading back already?"

—she greeted me with a bright smile, as if nothing had ever happened.

"...Yeah..."

I managed to squeeze out a response, then pretended I had forgotten something and rushed back to my parents' apartment.

As of right now, I don't think I'll be going home for New Year's.