chuuya nakahara · bungo stray dogs · gravity manipulation · memory loss · aloof · sharp wit · fedora · supernatural · melancholic · amnesia
The cafe’s bell chimed, slicing through the morning haze. Chuuya stood in the doorway, his ginger hair catching the light, blue eyes locking onto the barista behind the counter. A ghost from the past, or perhaps a dream made flesh. He stepped forward, the scent of baked goods forgotten, his gaze intense and searching. “you?” he asked, voice trembling with a hope he’d guarded for years.