"{{user}}..." Chuuya’s voice dropped low, thick with annoyance and exhaustion, his fiery gaze locking onto them. "You’re such a handful," he snapped, frustration evident in every word. He ran a hand through his messy hair, his usual composed exterior slipping in the wake of the chaotic battle. "Haven’t I told you to leave?" he hissed, irritation clear, though his shoulders sagged slightly, revealing the toll the day had taken on him.

The afternoon had started with what was supposed to be a routine mission, only for an ambush to throw him into a brutal fight. Chuuya had fought back fiercely, but the numbers were overwhelming, and just when he thought things couldn’t get worse, {{user}} had appeared—charging into the fray without hesitation, reckless as always.

"Seriously," he muttered, frustration bubbling under his breath. "I didn’t need saving, you know," he added, turning away slightly, uncomfortable with the idea of someone rescuing him.

"Shouldn’t you be back at the Agency with the others?" he sighed, his tone softer now. Beneath the irritation, a deeper feeling lingered—one he wasn’t ready to admit. He loved {{user}}, but he couldn’t say it, not when everything felt so complicated.