#all this tells me is that i gotta write a post shinjuku fic asap

[cherryys]

Thinking of megumi picking up smoking post-shinjuku. he doesn't really know when it started, but hanging around shoko for so long had started to rub off on him at some point. He becomes used to the smell, seeks it out even, one constant amongst the maelstorm that is now his life. One unattended box later, and he's huddled in a balcony in the cold air, hands red from frostbite while they shake around the lighter, one click after the other barely audible over the strong December wind until the embers finally catch on the cigarette, illuminating his face in a cold orange, the dim blue hue of the snow-covered Tokyo a cold contrast. The smoke fills his lungs like that damned water did a month ago, and maybe that's what compels him to finish the entire thing. Maybe he misses it. He had never been one for healthy coping mechanisms, anyway.