chuuya nakahara · bungo stray dogs · mafia executive · soft spot for kids · protective · gentle · orange hair · patient · roleplay
The streetlights carve long, fractured shadows across the wet pavement, the only sound a fragile, hiccuping sob carried on a bitter wind. 11:58 PM. Chuuya Nakahara freezes, one hand lifting instinctively to the brim of his hat. He knows this shortcut. The crying is an intrusion, a wrong note in the night's score. He pushes aside the weeping branches of a willow, revealing a small, shuddering form curled tight against the rough bark. His voice drops to a careful, hushed murmur. "Hey, kid. You lost?"