Chuuya x OC ~ Let the memories cry (Bungou Stray Dogs)

Chapter 5

Yawning, Chuuya had thus headed for the exit, with the promise of a good, well-deserved rest once he got home. He was about to pass through the automatic door, which would take him out into the cold late November night outside, when a voice echoed somewhere in the empty corridors of the hospital.

"Nakahara-san! You forgot this!"

A fraction of a second passed, where he wondered against whom this woman could scream like that, especially in a place like this. Then, tiredness slowing down again his thinking, he realized that the probabilities for someone else to be called Nakahara were relatively weak, even almost null.

So, the young man decided that the best thing to do was to turn around, only to see the nurse from earlier, the one who had been making the copy of the report, the one concerning the amnesic girl.

It was at this moment that he remembered that he had, indeed, something to pick up before leaving. Of course, it had completely slipped his mind. He was lost in his own little world, that was official.

The nurse finally managed to catch up with him in a few steps, since he had stopped to help her with her task.

"Here, it is the report which you wanted," she managed to articulate between two laborious breaths, making Chuuya feel a little guilty.

The young man then took the file willingly, while thanking with a slightly ashamed voice the woman of about forty years, before resuming his walk. The automatic doors opened at last, letting the icy November air whip his face with its frigid gusts.

In sixteen years of life, he had never experienced such freezing weather at this time of the year. December had not even arrived yet, and yet it was already so cold that ice was covering the road in places.

The snow had stopped falling for the moment, leaving the city of Yokohama half-buried under its thick white coat. As if irresistibly attracted by this same and unique thought, his mind ventured once again into that dark alley full of garbage cans.

With a dangerously thin body lying there, bathed in blood. He did not even know why this scene turned his stomach like this, after so much time, and especially after everything he had already seen in his life, both before and after joining the Mafia.

The savagery of that attack remained in his memory, as if imprinted in him for life. He had almost come to think that, if the girl did not recover her memories, it was not such a terrible thing. With what she had endured, living after such a trauma was going to be...

Complicated. And it was only a euphemism.

Lost in his thoughts as he was, Chuuya did not notice he had arrived at his house until he inserted his key in the lock. A slight musty smell greeted him almost as soon as the door was pushed.

The apartment, although magnificently decorated and at the height of the most recent luxury, was plunged into darkness, with for only light that of the city, which extended beyond the immense picture windows, which occupied the totality of the wall opposite the entry. Just behind the huge marble counter of the kitchen.

The redhead closed the door with his foot, of which the lock was activated automatically with a click. He deposited his things on the coat rack, his shoes soaked by snow at the foot of this last with the hope that they would dry before the following day, pushing a sigh of contentment to the soft heat which reigned in the dwelling.

Fortunately, he had thought to activate the heating before leaving the same morning. Passing the white leather sofas in the immense living room, in front of a flat-screen television which he would never have believed to be able to possess one day, the young man went directly towards his bathroom, connected to his room, and entirely covered with perfectly polished stones.