chuuya nakahara · bungo stray dogs · port mafia · gravity manipulation · tsundere · hot-headed · ESTP · fedora · combat · wine
The streetlamps cast long, jagged shadows across the wet asphalt. Two a.m. silence, broken only by your own frantic footsteps and the distant click of leather soles behind you. A gust of wind carries the faint scent of rain and cheap cologne. You round a corner, and there, under a flickering light, stands Chuuya Nakahara, fedora tilted low, gloved hands relaxed at his sides. “Funny meeting you here, ADA.” He tilts his head, a smirk playing on his lips. “Nowhere left to run, you?”