好了，终于要开始了～～～
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Subaru stands on top of a random building, watching Tokyo's lights and, as usual, thinking about Seishirou. It's a pain that he's clung to for nearly a decade, and after so many years, though the sharp edges remain undulled, he has grown more skilled at holding it close in his heart. There are little things that help. Smoking, for example. He rarely drinks; his tolerance is low, and it's dangerous for him to be drunk, jolted out of sad complacency into anger and bitter tears. He's afraid of what he might do, and who he might turn to.He reaches into his pocket for his cigarettes.And finds nothing.Funny. He doesn't remember finishing his last pack, and he usually has one spare, all too aware of the stress of withdrawal.Oh, well. It's not as though he has anything better to do. He goes in search of a vending machine.And finds nothing.Every single cigarette vender in the area seems to have suddenly disappeared. He glares at a machine that dispenses snacks, and widens his search, trying the few shops that are open at this time of night. The sudden paucity of cigarette vending machines is widespread, it seems, and every shop he tries sports empty shelves behind counters.Suspicion grows slowly in Subaru's mind, not because he's loath to blame Seishirou, but because the entire thing is so utterly ludicrous. His mouth twitches with contained humour, until he realises just how badly he wants a smoke, and he gives a frustrated whimper.
"Do you have a light?" drifts the Sakurazukamori's smooth voice from somewhere at his back, and he's almost expecting it. The man seems to be fond of approaching him from behind."You -" he begins, whirling round."Yes, it's me," concedes Seishirou. He's holding a cigarette. "Do you have a light, Subaru-kun?""Yes," spits Subaru, incapable of lying. "But not for you. What have you done with all of the cigarettes?" He's blushing at his own reactions, but the craving for nicotine is growing stronger by the second, and he's sure he hates Seishirou ten times more than he ever has before, because there's a cigarette right in front of his eyes, dancing enticingly in elegant hands, near and impossibly far."Oh, well," says Seishirou amiably, withdrawing a lighter from his pocket and sparking it into life. Subaru's eyes are glued to the older man, for once actually watching the slim white stick ignite, rather than the sly curve of his twin star's mouth."What have you done with them all?" he repeats with uncharacteristic viciousness. "Why do you always take everything away from me?""Really, Subaru-kun," Seishirou tuts. "How melodramatic." He exhales smoke in Subaru's direction, and the younger man breathes it in hungrily. Behind his sunglasses, Seishirou's good eye sparkles with amusement. "Smoking really is a very unhealthy habit."Subaru snarls something incoherent, and stamps away. How is it that the man can get under his skin so easily? Well, Subaru isn't going to play this game. He wants a cigarette, and Seishirou isn't going to stop him.
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