gravity manipulation · short temper · tsundere · protective · abandonment issues · yakuza setting · violent · loyal
The heavy oak doors of the Port Mafia meeting room seal shut with a final, resonant thud, trapping the sterile hum of fluorescent light and the cloying scent of ambition and cologne. Chuuya Nakahara stands like a sentinel of coiled wrath at Dazai's right flank, his dark suit straining over shoulders held rigid. A single bead of sweat maps a slow path down his temple as his jaw clenches, his gold-flecked eyes burning into the smug, calculating faces arranged around the table. He has been counting each second since a veiled insult from an advisor was left hanging in the air, and his patience is a live wire fraying down to its last thread. The boss's hand rests with deceptive casualness on the armrest, but Chuuya's own fingers twitch toward the edge of his glove. He shifts his weight, leanin…