THE BOSS OF YOKOHAMA (PM BOSS CHUUYA NAKAHARA)

EMPIRE (Prologue)

Clouded and starless night, the cold that penetrates the bones like a sharp knife, chills all over the body, the skin that asks for warmth.Dazai Osamu is back to Port Mafia after months.

How many?

He doesn't even remember.

The motive?

The only reason now he's crossing with measured steps the threshold of the main building and meanders towards the elevator to reach the top floor, it's due to a specific request of the current boss at the time.
Chuuya Nakahara.
His ex partner, and ex lover, is now the head of one of the most powerful organizations in Yokohama.

How could it have happened?
How could it have been all fucked up since he was away?

And yet, to hear the rumors and the timorous murmuring of Chuuya's subordinates, which he had heard from the first moment he was back to the city, he's changed.
He's changed a lot.
He's almost petrified to cross the door that led to his new office.
He, Dazai Osamu, ex Mafia executive and feared by everyone in Yokohama, is almost scared to talk to the person with whom he spent almost seven years of his life, the person he knew better that anyone else and of whom he knew every secret - or at least he thought he knew.
Now it's no longer the cold that makes him feel the shivers, it's the thought of seeing Chuuya again, the images of him flowing in his mind like a print.He isn't ready.

His icy hand rests on the knob of the door, pressing firmly it opens it and takes a few steps into the room where Chuuya resides.Although all the building's room have artificial lights that almost hurt the eyes, the boss's one is gloomy, detached, as if a veil of melancholy enveloped it.But just that room.

And Chuuya. Chuuya is sitting at a huge mahogany desk at the back of the office, the smoke rises in a spiral and surrounds his face.
If that midget old lamp that leaning over hadn't lit his body, completely dressed in black, he wouldn't have even noticed him.And then, his lips change position - "Well, well. Look who we have here"

Dazai can discern an almost grinning smile spread down his face.

"Chuuya ..."

Now that his eyes are slowly getting used to the twilight of the ambience, the ex executive can notice how profoundly different Chuuya is from how he remembered him in his mind.
Two blue spheres without light frame his face, unlighted circles adorn them, probably born from sleepless nights.As a boss, he certainly has many issues to deal with and many responsibilities on his shoulders.The ashen of his skin stands out in that vast sea of raven, broken only by the red locks of his loose hair that falls long over his shoulder blades.He sits like a King on his throne - ready to judge those who lack respect -, legs apart, he holds a glass of wine in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

Dazai knows that Chuuya smokes when he's nervous. But will it really still be like this? Or has that vice increased, until it became a normal routine, since he left?

The hat - which is also completely black-, collapse on his face obscuring his forehead, the choker has the gold loose buckle, it almost seemed like the sign of a dog that got rid of its masters.

"What happened Chuuya?"

His turquoise irises slide down his body like a hungry predator.The ex executive stares at him while he gets up for the chair with extreme slowness, the paper cylinder still in his fingers, reaching the front of the wooden desk and leaning his body with an amused look on his face.

"What happened, you say? As you can see I'm the boss now," - Chuuya's arms are raised, as if that office represented the magnitude of his actions, the zenit of his success.