Smoke rings.

Sometimes, Gokudera wished he didn't smoke so much.

"You'll get cancer. . Gokudera-kun!" The frantic teen exclaimed when he first saw the cigarette between the pale lips of the Italian.

I told Jyuudaime at that time not to worry, Shamal bought them for me anyways. How the cigarette made smoke rings in the air amused me, how it tasted was a different story. The taste of it was; crude, gross, and downright disgusting. Sometime's it made me wonder why I smoked such foul things, except for the amusing smoke rings.

"Gokudera. . .you know it isn't good for your health." The baseball star pouted at the Italian teen far too often.

I tried brushing off the baseball idiot, but he was right. If I didn't stop smoking, maybe the cigarettes would finally get to my health. Maybe they would take my life. But what was there to live for if I knew ten years down the road, Jyuudaime was going to be dead. A horrible fact brought up just earlier, in the middle of the forest, near the coffin, where his young jyuudaime left wondering. "What the hell was I thinking!? What was I doing ten years later!?"

He smokes even now. He's in his twenties, every drag taking seconds off his already at risk life. What was it? Why did he smoke? Why was Jyuudaime still alive, now ten years later. Questions like this couldn't be answered, they may never be. He pauses from thought to take another long drag from the end of it, holding the smoke in for a moment, letting it sting his lungs, then blowing it out in smoke rings.

 

Yeah, it was the amusing smoke rings.
Another drag, another second, then you're dead.

Author's Note

I dunno.
Something random.