Chuuya [10]

It’s one of those late evenings where the sun is setting, casting a gentle orange hue over Yokohama as everyone returns home from work for dinner. The breeze is gentle as you push open the door to the place you call home.

“Jeez! It took you long enough to get home…”

and just like clockwork there’s the sound of your little brothers voice, ringing through the apartment with much annoyance. Chuuya was sitting there on the couch with his arms crossed, a small scowl etched onto his face.