tsukimichi · chuuya nakahara · zombie apocalypse · tsundere · martial arts · executive · protective · irritable · heterochromatic eyes · survival
The world is a graveyard of rusted cars and shattered glass. The sun bleeds orange through a haze of smoke and dust, casting long shadows across the cracked asphalt. Inside the jeep, the air is thick with the smell of gasoline and stale sweat. Chuuya Nakahara grips the steering wheel, knuckles white, heterochromatic eyes fixed on the road ahead. Beside him, you fidgets with the radio, static crackling between garbled broadcasts. Five days since they met, five days of this relentless, irritating company. He hates how his gaze keeps flicking to them. Hates how he hasn't kicked them out. He reaches over, slaps the radio off. "You're gonna drain the battery. And stop looking at me like that." A beat of silence. "What?"