★彡[ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ]彡★

Chuuya's Home!

A gust of wind rolled over the helm of the sparkling front liner, lifting a certain black hat off of a certain orange head and sending it on a one way route to the blue water below. 

"Ah, crap!"

 The one and only Chuuya Nakahara swore under his breath,  immediately lurching against the golden railing and reaching out a gloved hand.

Before his iconic hat could quite make contact with the waves, it froze midair and with the unmistakable force of gravity, spun back along its previous trajectory and safely into the little man's hands. 

"Mm, that really is a neat trick you've got there."

Chuuya carefully placed the hat back over his head, then turned to see who had spoken. Standing behind him was a sweet young woman with a cascade of brown curls. There was nothing outwardly threatening about her. But after their shared assignment in the States, Chuuya knew better.

"Miss Shelley," Chuuya said, "I didn't realize you were on this ship."

"Really?" Mary Shelley said, joining him at the rail, "I thought it was quite obvious. Besides, someone had to escort you back to Yokohama."

Chuuya turned so that his back was now facing the ocean, the spot where his shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows bracing against the railing. 

"Yeah?" He said in a voice louder than probably necessary, "Well, we both know I'm more than capable of handling myself." 

He glared irritably at her in the corner of his eye, "I know you're just here to give the Boss his money."

Mary closed her eyes and giggled in response. 

Chuuya huffed. 

While it was true that his undivided loyalty was sworn to the Port Mafia  -- that didn't mean he was happy about having been ordered to go all the way the United States of America for an assignment. Not to mention that after that whole debacle with the country's own diabolic set of ability users, the Guild, he was less than fond of the place.

However, the quickly recovering Guild had offered quite a sum of money in exchange for his services. So who was his Boss to refuse? That man had practically hurled Chuuya at those foreign fellows. 

While Chuuya did have to admit the vintage in the States hadn't been at all bad, as the frontliner he was currently on pulled into Yokohama harbor --the only feeling that filled him was relief. 

Finally, that assignment was over.

The ship docked. Mary offered Chuuya her hand, which he promptly walked past. Unfazed, she followed him off the liner, same cheery smile on her face. 

"So Chuuya, excited to be home? Are they having a big fancy party at the Mafia?" she asked as they walked through the crowd on the dock, headed for the city.

"A big fancy party...?" Chuuya echoed. He was momentarily distracted by the image of the mafia's boss, Ogai Mori, cracking open a new cask expertly aged wine before being ground in reality He shook his head, "Nah, that's not like Port Mafia. You should be able to get to the Boss uninterrupted."

"Oh?" Mary said, eyes tracking something at their side, "just a welcome committee then?"

"Of course not," Chuuya said, angrily for some reason, "We're the damn mafia, why would we waste time with a welcome committee? "

He would do what he always did. Report back to the Boss then head out for whatever job came next.  

Not many people were excited to see him. After all, he did have a reputation as a ruthless commander of gravity with an affinity for total destruction. 

Although. To be fair, the last time he had returned from a trip overseas, he had been greeted by a certain captured Detective Osamu Dazai, who had promptly tricked him into providing information before escaping the mafia's clutches in a fit of laughter. 

But that wasn't the type of excited that Chuuya was thinking of.

He shook his head again.

Where were these thoughts coming from? He was Chuuya Nakahara! Since when did he care what people thought of him?

"No welcome committee?" Mary Shelley said, "Then what's that over there?"

"Ha?" Chuuya said, coming to a stop and following her gaze.

Standing a short way from them in the midst of the crowd -- could it be? The Mafia's Akutagawa and Higuchi?

Why were they here?

"Ugh, I don't see him anywhere." Higuchi said, "Are you certain this is the place Akutagawa-Senpai?"

"Yes," Akutagawa said. He was being less obvious than Higuchi, but it was clear that he too was surveying the crowd. "That is exactly what Mori-san told me."

He was holding some sort of funky looking poster for whatever reason.

Chuuya elbowed his way through the crowd to the two of them, Mary at his heels. "Akutagawa, Higuchi," he said.

The two of them turned, and eyes immediately lit up. "Chuuya!" They cried in unison.

Chuuya looked back and forth between them, "is there something wrong? Did something happen? Does the Boss have any orders from me?"

"What?' Higuchi said, blinking rapidly as if coming out of a trance. "What? No! We're just here to welcome you home!"

"Oh." Chuuya said, "Er, I mean, thank you." A strange feeling filled him. Something light and almost warm. But, it was being overshadowed by something else...

Perplexion. Chuuya was perplexed.

That sort of behavior wasn't uncommon for Higuchi. She tended to be a lot nicer compared to most of the mafia. 

But still...there was something off. 

Right.

That 'nicer' behavior. Wasn't that...only ever aimed towards Akutagawa?

Chuuya looked to Akutagawa, who was coughing quietly in his hand. Ah. That made sense. The poor girl probably just wanted an excuse to hang out with the guy. That seemed about right.

Higuchi elbowed Akutagawa roughly.

"What?" he snapped.

"What do you think?" she hissed back.

 Chuuya blinked. Did she look, mad at him? No no, he was seeing things. Higuchi idolized Akutagawa. She would never...

"Show him the poster you've been working on all week!"

Akutagawa scowled, then blushed and turned away, flipping over the poster. It was sparkly and covered in glitter glue. A badly drawn collection of stick figures that either represented the members of the Port Mafia or celery stalks were scattered around the paper. 

In bright, big bubble letters it read: WELCOME HOME CHUUYA!

And in slightly smaller text below it:

EVERYONE LOVES YOU!!!

"Aw," Mary said, clasping her hand together. "So the Port Mafia really is just a bunch a softies!"

Chuuya turned bright red at the insult to his livelihood. "Like hell they are!" he shouted and punched a whole through the poster. 

The fearsome, murderous, stone-faced, depraved dog of the mafia, Ryunosuke Akutagawa, looked down at Chuuya with a look of blatant betrayal on his face. 

He sniffled.

"Uh," Chuuya said, taking a step back. Oh no. Higuchi was going to murder him.

"Don't cry in front of Chuuya-san!" Higuchi exclaimed. She ripped a handkerchief out of her pocket and thrusted it in Akutagawa's face, "Chuuya-san deserves better than your tears!"

Akutagawa took it and yelled into it, "I'm sorry I'm a failure!"

Mary Shelley placed a hand over her mouth to hide an amused smile. 

Meanwhile, Chuuya watched his subordinates in horror.

Something very very wrong was afoot.