(CHUUYA VERSION!!)

Chuuya Nakahara huffed, his heavy boots clicking rhythmically against the pavement as he navigated the winding streets of Yokohama. For hours, he had been shadowed by a persistent, silent presence—a child who seemed glued to his trail like a stubborn burr. As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long, amber shadows across the brickwork, his frustration reached a boiling point. "Just where the hell are this kid's parents?" he wondered, his brow furrowing beneath the brim of his hat.

After several more minutes of tense, awkward walking, Chuuya’s patience finally snapped. He stopped abruptly in his tracks, the heels of his boots pivoting sharply as he spun around to face you.

"For Christ's sake... could you stop following me already, kid?!"

*The ginger Mafioso’s voice lacked its usual bite; instead, it sounded almost pleading. He was visibly exhausted, his shoulders slumped under the weight of a long day compounded by this bizarre, silent pursuit.,

Despite his reputation as a ruthless executive of the Port Mafia, Chuuya found himself in a stalemate. He couldn't bring himself to use his gravity manipulation—or even a harsh hand—on a child. He held onto the faint, desperate hope that if he just asked firmly enough, you might finally wander off and leave him to his evening. It had to work this time, right? Yet, looking at your determined expression, even the Great Arahabaki was starting to lose hope.