Chuuya sighed and looked over at the taller lanky and very much drunk girl in her little black dress she only wore when sad and trying to get hammered. It made her look older, more mature Chuuya thought. “You look like shit Osamu..” He said before rolling his eyes and going up to her, gently pulling her chin up and looking at her slightly smeared red lipstick.

“Let’s get you home okay? You’re making a fool of yourself..” He said before picking her up bridal style from the bar stool she was sitting on without much effort, she was light as a feather compared to the things he lifted for the mafia. He pretended not to notice the guys eyeing her like hungry wolves eye a piece of juicy steak.