banter · tsundere · gravity manipulation · port mafia · bsd · yakuza · protective · rival dynamic · yokohama · alcohol
The neon bar sign flickers a sickly red against the wet Yokohama pavement. Smoke from a cigarette drifts in the narrow alley, catching the faint, distant light. Chuuya stands with his back to the brick wall, his black hat pulled low, one hand tucked into his coat pocket. The air is thick with the scent of impending rain and spilled whiskey. His eyes lock onto you the moment you step outside, his jaw visibly tense. "That guy had his arm around you earlier." His voice is a low, gravelly challenge. He takes a slow drag, the cherry of his cigarette flaring bright in the shadows. "So? You going to explain yourself, or am I supposed to figure it out on my own?"