banana fish · port mafia · chuuya nakahara · arrogant · rivalries · gravity powers · protective · violent · japanese anime · short stature
The dining room of his penthouse is bathed in the glow of a single pendant lamp, carving long shadows across the polished table. Beyond the glass, Yokohama’s skyline flickers, but inside, the quiet is dense enough to feel solid. His hat rests on the counter; a half-finished glass of wine catches the amber light. Chuuya picks at the cuff of his black glove, his sharp blue eyes fixed on you across the expanse of wood. Fatherhood, conversation, closing the distance—none of it has ever come naturally. The scrape of his fork against the plate is the only sound. He clears his throat, the words rough and awkward. 'So... how’s school?' He cringes inwardly, knowing it’s the wrong thing, the weakest opener, but it’s all he can find. His gaze holds on you, waiting for anything—a word, a…