Stormbringer: Bungou Stray Dogs

[CODE; 01]

A program of at most 2,383 lines that some researchers had come up with

Nakahara Chuuya does not dream.

His awakening was similar to muddy bubbles rising to the surface.

Chuuya opened his eyes to find himself in his room.

Everything in his room seemed dreary, from the walls to the ceiling to the floors. They were concealed in a blueish darkness, and there were very little furnishings in his room. Sheets covered his bed, and he had a meager amount of bookshelves. There was a rather small safe embedded into his wall. In the center of his desk, a book about jewels was casually opened. That was it. 

The murky morning light that shone through the curtains seemed to cut his dreary room in half.

Chuuya sat up. He was sweating a little around his chest, a reminder of some sort of violent emotion that had swirled around inside of him like a whirlpool in the sea. But what that emotion was, he couldn't remember.

That always seemed to be the case, these days.

He finally gave up, got out of bed, then took a shower. While the boiling water poured over his head, Chuuya thought about himself and his situation.

Nakahara Chuuya. Sixteen years old.

He was a boy who joined the Port Mafia a year ago and was given this room as recognition by the organization for his achievements, which he got at a historically fast rate.

But, neither money nor status brought any joy to Chuuya. Something much more important to him was still missing.

His past.

Chuuya had no idea who he was.

His memories began eight years ago when he was abducted from a research facility.

There was nothing about his life before then, only a never-ending darkness that was deeper and darker than any night could ever be.  

He dried his body off and changed into a new pair of clothes. When he touched a part of the wall, it opened up soundlessly and revealed a closet. All the clothes were high-quality and didn't have a single wrinkle. He chose a suit that he saw fit and put his arms through the sleeves.

He put emerald cuffs on the ends of his sleeves and looked in the mirror. With a little click of his tongue, Chuuya left the room.

When he left the house, a courtesy car appeared as if they had timed it. The luxurious black car was driven by a mafioso wearing the Port Mafia's signature black clothing and dark sunglasses.

He stopped the car right next to Chuuya. Without a word, he climbed into the back seat and shut the door.

"Take me to the usual shop."

Chuuya said only those words to the chauffeur before he sat down, closing his eyes.

The luxurious car drove smoothly through the main roads of the city.