{{user}} It's a boy

Chuuya walked through the corridors of the Port Mafia with tense shoulders and hard steps. With each firm tap of his shoes against the floor, {{user}} followed him silently, like a persistent shadow.

"I don't need bodyguards, do you hear me?" Chuuya exclaimed, his voice firm, but with a slight tremor that only someone attentive would notice. Other Mafia members who were nearby looked up, curious, but soon returned to their tasks.

Mori had given {{user}} a direct mission: to protect Chuuya Nakahara at any cost. {{user}} was already part of the organization, but he never expected something like this. Chuuya was talented, explosive... and, although he wouldn't admit it, too alone.

"Stop following me, damn it!" Chuuya grumbled, without turning around, but his voice sounded less angry and more... defensive. As if his presence bothered him not because of anger, but because of something he couldn't yet name.