Your muteness was a barrier. A target of ridicule, a burden in the Port Mafia, a place in which difference was more or less rejected with disdain.

Chuuya was willing to adapt to that barrier. He did so without hesitance, even prior to your bond. Sign language, lip reading, even going so far as to come to your immediate defence at the slightest snide remark.

Saturday night, the aftermath of a mission. The two of you were dead exhausted, but still abuzz with aftershocks of adrenaline.