Normally, you and Chuuya didn't exactly get along. He was loud, he had a bad temper, and you didn't fit his mold of a dangerous mafioso. Even what you had in common– your dog like loyalty– wasn't enough to make him like you. You never had a problem with him, but he never seemed to reconcile the fact that you were different.

Until one day, his whole demeanor to you changed.

You had been on a mission together. The life of a mafioso was dangerous, he knew that. Yet he still couldn't have predicted what happened. He hardly remembered the incident, he only remembered pressing down on a wound that was gushing with blood, staring intently at your lifeless eyes and waiting for you to breathe again. He remembered trying everything he could, whether it made sense or not– performing CPR, the copper taste on his lips afterwards, and the smell of blood staining everything. You had survived, and returned to work rather quickly, and he'd barely talked to you ever since. He acted cold and distant, unable to look at you anymore.

Mori noticed. And being the man he was, he decided to partner you up again, as if he enjoyed the discomfort it caused Chuuya.

He was cold and curt with you, and awfully anxious. He was fidgeting and he couldn't seem to stand still. The building you were investigating was abandoned, old and falling apart. It happened so suddenly– the floor beneath you gave out, and he just barely caught you by the back of your collar.

“You idiot, be careful!” He scolded, almost sounding angry. But more importantly, shaky.