#bsd chuya

His smile widens, his eyes sparling. "Ah! You noticed! See, I thought of it myself. They're pretty, are they not?"

Of course he chose venomous plants. His morbid passion for death couldn't just stand out of a way of his romantic gesture towards the person he loves the most.

You look back and forth between him and the bouquet. Your frown turns into a bemused smile as he cups you cheek with a bandaged hand. "That's... Weird." You add, even more confused, "I'm... flattered?"

He grabs your hand and places a kiss on the back of it. "Of course you are, your handsome boyfriend got you a personalized bouquet. Who could not be?"

"Yeah... let's say... next time try to be romantic without trying to kill me, and I'll be a little more flattered."

He smiles, shooting you a charming smirk. "Ah, is it so? My soon-to-be-corpse didn't appreciate my advances?"

CHUUYA is probably the most old fashioned man in Japan. He grew up without a proper education if not for what he heard from Kouyou, once he was already a teen, so as soon as he obtained the title of Executive and started actually living the classy life reserved to the high-ranks members of the Port Mafia he felt like he had to fill that gap instantly by obsessively learning everything about good manners.

This inevitably includes knowing how to treat a romantic partner.

Chuuya loves to spoil you. In every way possible. It makes him feel good, knowing he's making you happy. And of course this means he will bring you flowers almost every day when he comes back from work.

He likes to suprise you with different arrangements, but his most favorite flowers to gift you are red orchids, sunflowers, wisteria and pink peonies. Deep passion, adoration, devotion and romance. He bought them so many times the florist knows his order by heart.

"I'm home," he says kicking off his shoes.

You help him taking off the coat and he hands you yet another bouquet with the softest eyes you've ever seen on him. "For my beautiful doll," he whispers placing a kiss on you lips.

You kiss him back muttering a "welcome back" and look at the flowers with smile "hu-ho, I wasn't expecting this at all." You say giggling, already walking in the kitchen to put them in the water.

"Hey, not my fault I'm a damn gentleman." He replies following you.

Who's the smartes guy you know? Easy, your boyfriend, RANPO EDOGAWA. Who's the dumbest guy you know? Easy, your boyfriend, Ranpo Edogawa.

This man has the emotional intelligence of a mosquito.

As a matter of fact, you know he loves you, but he's also very annoying. Sometimes he'll look at you with the most nonchalant smile and tell you your deepest secrets as if it were the weather report, just to then add "I just noticed because I pay a lot of attention to you", sometimes he'll steal your stuff because he says he likes having something of yours with him, sometimes he'll throw tantrums at the stupidest things just to get your attention. And sometimes, when he really feels like he has to make it up to you, he'll come up with something romantic. In his own way.

He showed up at your office, in front of your colleagues, with a giant bouquet of candies and sweets of all types.

"Sweetheart!" His voice rigs through the stunned office as he holds the bouquet and the opens his free arm, expecting a hug. "Guess who wanted to see you!"

You stay still on your chair, face burning. You can feel the eyes of all your coworkers on you. Finally, you get up in silence and lead him outside, trying to ignore everyone's stares.

"What the-? You can't just appear in my office like this, have you seen their faces? They will never let this live down." You tell him once you're out of sight.

He stares at you, eyes eyes fully open and the strange bouquet still clutched in his hands. "What? You're not happy to see me?" He looks... genuinely disappointed, as if he doesn't understand he just embarrassed you if front of everyone you work with.

"I..." You sigh. "It's not that I'm not happy to see you, it's just... you can't make these grand scenes in front of everyone."

He looks down at the candies. "But... I wanted to be nice."

You look at him for a moment. Damn, he's to cute to be mad at him. You sigh and cup his cheek with a hand. "...I know. It's... it's okay. Just,, don't show up with bouquets of sweets in front of everyone again."

He leans in your hands and smiles. "Hmm... okay..."

AKUTAGAWA is extremely new to the world of human relationships and he did not grow up in a very caring environment. As much as he likes you he absolutely isn't the type to show it in very visible ways, but you can still see it —he buys your favorite food without a word when he senses something is wrong, he always makes sure to have time for you even with his work, and he even waits for you (something he absolutely hates) without complaining while you get ready for a date.

However, he knows that you like flowers. And he's been more absent lately due to a sudden amount of missions and paperwork. And Gin told him that gifting you flowers would make you happy.

So here he is, is front of you, holding a bouquet, completely mute, with the biggest frown ever.

You look at the flowers. They're really nice —daisies, dahlias, roses and chrysanthemums— if you ignore the fact that he looks like he wants to throw them out the window.

You raise your eyebrows at him confused. "Uh... Ryunosuke? Are you okay?"

He looks down at the flowers he's holding, still frowning. "Yes." Then he extends them a little more towards you. "They're for you."

You suppress a laugh as you take them. "Yes- yes, I guessed it, and thank you, but... What's with your face?"

"... Nothing." He mutters, trying to relax.

"Yeah? It doesn't look like nothing?"

He's silent for a moment, then he sighs. "They're pink. I walked around with pink flowers."

You burst out laughing. "Ohh! That's why! Wow, playyeah, they're pink..." You look at the flowers, then back at him. "Well, thank you for your sacrifice. I really appreciate it." You say placing a kiss on his cheek. "And you don't have to do it again if it makes you uncomfortable."

That soothes him. His shoulders relax and lets out a breath. "Thank you."

You were the last person he ever expected to run into right after finishing a mission with the Flags.

You had recently landed a modeling contract following the massive success of your debut novel.

Well, you might just be the prettiest girl Chuuya had ever seen. But seeing you in real life—off the magazine cover—felt strange. Not that you were unattractive, heaven forbid; it was just that he had thought of you somewhat like those movie characters you inevitably never run into on the street.

His eyes lock onto you as you stand there, turned almost away from him, watching a dog; meanwhile, his ears tune out the voice of Albatross, who has an arm draped around his shoulders and is talking about work. He keeps walking but no longer sees where he is going, and Lipman is forced to yank him back from the road just as a car drives past.

"Hey, Chuuya, what's wrong?" The actor's voice and grip snap him back to reality.

He turns to look into Lipman’s light-colored eyes, still vaguely dazed by what just happened.

Was he about to get run over? Because he saw a pretty girl? His mind immediately berates him, and he knows Albatross and the others will tease him mercilessly the moment they realize what he was looking at.

"Uh? Nothing. I'm just..." he thinks for a moment. What to say? "I'm... Just a little tired." He hisses, trying to suppress the embarrassment of having to come up with such a pathetic excuse.

"Chuuya? Tired after such an easy mission?" Doc’s voice makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"I think I have a better answer to that question," Iceman says coolly, though a faint, knowing smirk plays on his lips. "I saw her too."

"Hm?" Lipman glances around for a moment, his hand still resting on Chuuya’s shoulder since Albatross had stepped a few paces away. "Ah," he exclaims when he spots you. Naturally, he knows about you; after all, knowing people is his job and you aren't quite hidden from the eyes of the public. "Well, look who’s caught our Chuuya’s eye... Good taste from a young age!" His sweet and mellifluous voice soaks into Chuuya’s ears, making them flush of red that spreads on his cheeks like a drop of blood in water.

Doc smirks. "Didn't know you read magazines, Chuuya."

"Ah?! No! I don't know what you're talking about!" He yells, stepping away from Lipman and pushing his hand away.

Albatross chuckles, then makes a vague gesture in your direction. "The young lady isn't deaf, Chuuya, don't yell!" he singsongs, rocking him back and forth.

Chuuya shoots you a glance, then looks away the moment your eyes lock and tries to get rid of Albatross. "Shut it, shut it, shut it!"

But it’s too late. You’re staring at him with those wonderful eyes while he’s in a state like that... Not only does he look like a stray dog ​​after fighting his way through the mission, but on top of that, he’s blushing and surrounded by the Flags —who, let’s face it, don’t help matters.

Lipman places his hands on Chuuya’s shoulders with a fatherly smile, leaving Chuuya confused and making him pause for a moment.

"Come on, our Chuuya can't possibly not know how to talk to a girl." he says and, before Chuuya can react, he spins him around and pushes him toward you.

He stumbles and stops a few steps from you, cursing under his breath sensing that the Flags ran away to hide and watch.

You stares at you for a moment.

You stare back at him.

His cheeks are flushed, and beads of sweat still linger on his forehead from the earlier fight.

You're just like a dream.

He furrows his brows, trying to regain some dignity as he adjusts his jacket. Your gaze seems to burn his skin.

"Sorry, but you're... the girl on the magazine covers, right?" He asks trying to look at you, but his eyes dart away.

Damn. He's speaking to you and he's making a mess. Dazai would've been so damn smooth, how the hell does that fishboy flirt with fricking everyone?

You stare at him, perplexed. Where did he come from? What happened to him? Then you smile and suddenly burst out laughing, hiding the lower half of your face in your hands. "Sorry! Sorry, it's just... no one has ever called me that before."

He looks at you wide eyed for a moment. You're laughing? You're laughing at him, right? It's bad... right?

"Really?" He tries to regain his composure.

He looks at you unsure, but you're just... smiling at him. You look... genuinely happy?

He can feels the heat of his cheeks slowly dissolving. You're... you haven't told him he's a creep, and that's a good thing already. Maybe it's not a totally lost case. "What do they call, you then? Genius writer? Superstar?" He asks, forcing a smirk.

You look at him for a moment, turning a little shy. Usually people aren't so brave with you. "I mean, yeah, my parents do, but... everyone else just calls me Y/n."

He raises an eyebrow. "Your parents do?" He repeats without thinking. "Cute."

There's a moment of silence. It's not uncomfortable silence, really, but it's enough to let him register what he just said. And...

DID HE JUST CALL YOU CUTE?!

"I- I mean! It's nice that your parents support you! It's right! And... uh... I am reading your novel..." he stutters, scratching the back of his head. Damn! Things were just getting better!

You raise your eyebrows. "Are you? What do you think of it?"

He stops. "What do I?..." He reflects for a few moments. "I like it so far. You're clearly someone who reads a lot. I mean, not just by how you write, but I can see references to great literature classics. And the characters... They're... Real. I mean, problematic, but real." He shoots you a glace. Did he go too far? He didn't even realize what he was saying. "I mean... That's what I think, at least."

But you don't look annoyed.

"Is it so? I'm glad you like it. I am very... I see parts of myself in my characters."

He falls silent.

"Y'know, it's a way of... letting things out. Things I couldn't say in a conversation."

He stares at you, mesmerized. "I guess it is. It's hard to communicate about serious matters in a dialogue face to face."

"Yes, it is."

Your eyes gaze at him with the intensity of fire. They are alight, alive, seething with beauty and intelligence. It is rare for someone to behave this way in a place like the Port Mafia.

And you don't consider him a weirdo. Which is... Surprising, considering the situation.

"So... you read magazines?" You ask, titling your head to the side.

He coughs, surprised. "Uh, no I don't. I mean, I just saw it. And... Remembered your face."

You raise your eyebrows with a slight smirk. "Mhm, sure. What's your name?"

"Chuuya. Nakahara Chuuya."

You smile widely. "Well, Chuuya-kun, I must go now. But if you see me again and want an autograph feel free to ask."

He blinks, then stares at you wide eyed as you wink and turn around, already walking away.

He stays still fir a few seconds after you've left.

Y/n Y/ln. Talking to him. And smiling to him.

In less that a minute Albatross is running up to him laughing at loss of breath, Lipman and Doc following more calmly but still smirking.

"So, so? How did it go, heartthrob?"

Chuuya shoots them a glance. This might just be the time when he starts hating them. "Shut up. It's your fault things went this way."

"Oh, but it didn't look so bad." Says Lipman. "At least, she looked flattered."

The redhead looks back in the direction of where you were. Flattered? Were you really? Or were you just being nice?

Albatross stares at Chuuya for a moment. "Hey, guys. Forgive me for my ignorance, but it looks like I should know who she is?"

Doc's eyes fix on the guy with the braid. "You really don't read the news, do you?"

Albatross smiles and shales his head. "I might forget to sometimes."

"Chuuya, come on. What would you say about her, hm?"

He stares at them in silence. What would he say about her? He looks away, face flushed, and clears his throat. "She's... smart, and fun and pretty.... Beautiful. She's got these eyes… and this hair, wow… and her smile... And... And anyway, she wrote a novel. And she's a model."

You take the elevator.

One floor, two floors, three floors, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve. Ding.

The elevator doors slide open.

Straight ahead, through the windows, you see the city in motion, bathed in sunlight; cars travel along the streets like aphids on the veins of a leaf.

Today, you feel positive. It is as if the night gave you courage, and sleep allowed the information you received the day before to sink in; now, everything is clear, illuminated by the sunlight.

That morning, on your way to work, you spent a long time thinking about how your life would turn out. Naturally, you know there is no going back to the way things were before you joined the Port Mafia, but you refuse to give up; you have decided to continue your studies at all costs. In the end—one way or another—once you have what you are looking for (revenge), you will manage to escape it all. Everything. Even the memories of that day. The past month is sealed inside one single bubble, and once you win, you will pop it. That is what you have decided.

You knock on the door. Chuuya should be already there.

"Come in."

You open the door, bow, and close it behind you.

Chuuya's not sitting at his desk today.

He has his back to you, his eyes fixed on the rooftops outside the window. He turns his head slightly and glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

"The documents were fine."

His head still hurts a little. Had he really drunk that much? It hadn't seemed like it... Fortunately, there were no missions scheduled for today.

You nod. "I'm glad."

Finally, he gestures with his head for you to come closer, and he sits down himself.

"We needed to decide on your schedule, right?"

You approach the wooden desk. "Yes."

"So, I’d say it’s best if you’re here both morning and afternoon, and as for the lunch break..." He keeps talking, though he remembers what Hirotsu said yesterday, and he knows you can't accept such a schedule if you're still attending lessons. Maybe he wants to test your courage. To see if you will say something. He doesn't exactly understand why he's so desperately trying to throw a wrench on the gears of your hiring in the Port Mafia, but he knows for sure he won't let you become his 'personal assistant' without at least some difficulties. Besides, it's also a way to make sure you know what you're gonna get after you take your revenge, right? Or at least that's what he tells himself. Though it doesn't sound so right.

He stops when he sees the way you’re looking at him.

"What is it?" he asks, feigning annoyance.

"No, nothing, it’s just... If it were possible..." You look away, fixing your gaze on the corner of the desk. What do you do—tell him? Won't that convince him you don't care about this job? Shouldn't you just accept it?...

"It’s just... You see, I go to college, so I can't be here... All... All day long..."

Chuuya’s blue eyes stare at you for a moment. Of course, he already knew that, but he hadn't expected you to say it so openly. Usually, people in the Port Mafia are much more guarded about revealing anything regarding their private lives. And anyway, he can't let you know he already knew, right?

"College? You're a student?"

You nod. "Yes."

Chuuya leans against the back of his chair. He does it continuously, you notice.

"Kids who go to college usually become waiters to pay for their studies, not criminals." He says sharply. What’s gotten into him? It’s not a problem for him if you come only in the afternoon or only in the morning—why does he keep tormenting you like this? And what's more, he already knows everything. But he can't help but take a dig at you.

You rub your heel against the floor.

A nervous tic? Chuuya takes note of it.

"Yeah, but that’s not why I’m doing it. It’s a personal matter."

The man across the desk raises an eyebrow. You really can't let those digs slide, can you? He wonders if you're also willing to reveal… "Oh, really?"

"Yes."

"And you won't tell me anything else?"

"As I said, it’s a private matter. I’d prefer it stayed that way."

Chuuya looks at you in genuine surprise for a moment, then a small smirk plays across his face. Few people refuse to answer his questions. "Ah, I see. Being mysterious." He sits back up straight. "As you wish."

There's a moment of silence where Chuuya stares at you, then he looks back at the documents on his desk. He is willing to let you come here only in the afternoon, but he knows they will take advantage of your presence to bury him under three times the usual workload. He can't simply agree to have you as an assistant and let you come in for—what—four hours? No, you wouldn't be able to complete the necessary paperwork in such a short time.

"Six hours per day, from one in the afternoon to seven in the evening. Every day, weekends included. Can't do better than this for ya."

You stare at him wide eyed. He actually accepted this? Without... complaints or anything?

"It's perfect." You say with a bow.

He sighs, tapping his fingers on the table. "So, shouldn't you be in class right now?" He asks, feigning disinterest.

"Well, yes, but it doesn't matter. I'm staying here today. One day won't kill me."

He studies you for a moment, then nods. "Fine. Then read this." He hands you a stack of five sheets of paper held together by a clip.

You take it. "What is this?"

"It contains the information you need to work here."

You blink a few times, surprised. "You have… instruction manuals for the Port Mafia?"

He frowns. "Huh?! They aren't instruction manuals! And no, we don't have those. Usually, people know how things work, or they figure it out as they go. But we can't have you working like that—otherwise, you'll just keep getting in Hirotsu's way. So, that's... that's something special." He hisses. "And don't you dare bringing it home with you. If someone outside found this we'd be in a lot of trouble."

Your eyes stay glued to the sheets of paper. This thing didn't exist before you started working here? Who wrote it? You must not have made a very good impression if they needed to write an instruction manual for you…

You nod, but the gesture automatically becomes a sort of bow. "Yes. Thanks." Then you add, "Do I have to give it back to you after I read it, then?"

Chuuya thinks for a moment. "Yeah, give it back to me later."

He stares at you for a few seconds, then, since you don't move, he gestures to the documents in your hand. "It says up there where your office is. You only need to come here at the end of your shift to report to me, y'know?"

"Ah-" You clutch the documents in your hands. Right! "Yes, I'm going." You bow one last time and leave.

Right after stepping out, you look at the papers. Your office is in Building C, on the fourth floor. Building C… Where is it? You seem to recall seeing a map of the skyscrapers at the entrance.

A metal panel hangs on the wall right next to the door.

Five skyscrapers: A, B, C, D, E.

From the first floor up, Building A is dedicated to the executives and the Boss. It is also where meetings are held, but access from the thirteenth floor upwards is controlled by armed guards; the floors from the thirteenth to the fifteenth—the top floor—are considered the Boss's private domain, and only executives with his permission may enter. The underground floors are dedicated to interrogations.

Access to Buildings B and C is restricted to the direct subordinates of executives and to sub-units tasked with eliminating witnesses or rival gangs entering Port Mafia territory or otherwise challenging the organization. The underground levels serve primarily as storage areas.

Building D does not have a particularly specific function; it primarily houses the cleanup crews—those who eliminate the traces left after premeditated murders—or personnel involved in minor missions who mostly handle paperwork.

Building E is dedicated to managing the Port Mafia's external properties, such as buildings or premises. Travel and missions to other regions or abroad are also organized here, as well as the hosting of figures from other organizations who are staying in Yokohama under an agreement.

It’s a really well-organized facility, you think. Everything has its place…

You enter Building C.

When you open your office door, you find the room… well, empty and clearly unused. Everything is covered in dust; it looks as though it has been abandoned for weeks—perhaps more than two months—without anyone touching a thing. Is this office meant for Chuuya's assistant, or is it just a spare room? If it is designated for an assistant, then how long has he been without one?

You sigh and set the papers down on a drawer that looks less dirty than the rest. Before you start working, you’ll have to do quite a bit of cleaning.

In the days that followed, nothing out of the ordinary happened. You returned the manual to Chuuya—who reiterated that, no, it wasn't an instruction manual—and then filled out the paperwork you were given. As expected, you learned the ropes and where to find the necessary information quite quickly, so you aren't nearly as slow anymore. Balancing the Port Mafia with college is also working out surprisingly well. Sure, you don't get as much sleep as you’d like—or as much as you really need—but you’re surviving and managing to handle both worlds.

Two weeks have passed by now. It is clear that Chuuya no longer wants to stand in the way of you securing a permanent position at the Port Mafia—if one can even speak of permanent jobs in a place like that—and he no longer minds all that much returning from missions to find the paperwork already filled out on his desk.

"Come in." It was a daily ritual he had forgotten in the months he spent working alone. "Yes, leave them there." He would stare at you while you left, wondering why he felt like he couldn't ask you about your studies or your day or what you would do once you find the people who killed your father. Ah, right. He hasn't told you he knows that part. It's not like he cares about you, anyway. He barely knows you. But you're the least annoying assistant he ever had and it would be a shame if you left.

To be honest, it seems your colleagues in Building C don't mind having you around, either. They’re a rather odd bunch, but not bad people—at least not in their dealings with you. There is one blonde woman in particular who has been very friendly toward you from the start; she said her name is Higuchi. Thanks to her—or because of her, depending on how you look at it—you met Akutagawa—who doesn't seem to appreciate your existence on this planet at all—, Gin, Tachihara, and—well, you already knew him—Hirotsu.

You’ve noticed that Tachihara, in particular, loves talking about the times Chuuya gets drunk—perhaps because he’s your boss, or maybe just because he finds it genuinely amusing. You find it rather strange to think that someone like Chuuya could become so different, yet you trust Tachihara’s word.

In any case, you don't let a word slip in front of Chuuya. Heaven forbid—you wouldn't dare. Not only does he scare you, but there would be no reason to bring up the subject, seeing as he's your boss.

That man from the first day also works in section C. He's on the floor above you and sometimes comes to visit you in your office. He's actually nicer than he first seemed.

Yes, everything is turning out well, and to be honest that was the last thing you would've expected.

Another week went through. You even managed to go the the cinema and hang out with your friends.

Today Chuuya looked distracted when you put the paperwork on his desk. Usually he would shoot you a glance or nod in acknowledgment, but today he just stared out of the window and ignored you completely.

"Sir? Is something off?" You ask hesitantly, not being sure you could take the liberty of asking him if something was bothering him.

He doesn't answer.

It is weird how much one can get to know of someone without them noticing.

In the past three weeks, you had carefully observed him, trying to catch every sign that could tell you something about his mood. By now, you know he's tired when his hat is resting on the desk, you know he's thoughtful when he plays with his pen, you know he's angry when he's tapping his foot under the desk, you know he just got assigned a mission when he keeps fidgeting with his lips, even if he's not picking at it.

But this, you don't know what it means.

"Rookie," Chuuya gestures for you to come over to his desk just as you’re about to leave his office after handing in the completed documents. He has made a habit of calling you back when you're about to leave, in these last three weeks.

You turn toward him and step closer. "Yes?"

"I'll be off for a mission for the next two days. I want you to compile the documents Hirotsu will give you and leave them in your office. I'll drop by when I'm back. I've got the keys, so it's not a problem if it's not your shift."

A mission? So that behavior was because... he was tense?

"I can bring them here if it is less of a bother for you."

He shakes his head. "That would require you having the keys to my office."

"Oh. Right. Sorry."

He waves a hand in the air to dismiss your apologies. "'s fine." He looks back at the city outside the window.

It's seven in the evening. The end of your shift.

"You'll go home?" He asks, his eyes unmoving.

You look at him perplexed. "Yes. Why?"

I wonder if I can see your house from here.

"Nothing. It's the end of your shift and I'm keeping you here for stupid chatter. You can go."

You look more perplexed that before, but nod and turn around.

You open the door and close it behind you.