Chapter Text
I watch as the smoke flies as I breathe out. Watch as it starts as a gray cloud in front of my face and disappears into the surrounding winter air. Watch as the evening sky gets darker. Watch as my breath becomes visible as I take deep breaths.
My gaze falls to the cigarette in my hand. The cigarette I have lit. The cigarette I put to my lips when my life feels like it's falling apart. When stress gets to me. The cigarette I bought on a whim. The cigarette I know I shouldn't have.
But what could I say? It made everything feel better. It made my worries disappear. It made me calm down, even if it was only temporary.
Not many know I smoke. Six others. That was it. My brother, my best friend who tries so hard to get me to stop, my volleyball coach who watched me buy and light my first one, and the three others with addictions like mine. They don't smoke like I do. They're addicted to other things.
But their addictions are their stories. I'll let them tell their parts. For now, I'm relaxing in the park not far from my house. Relaxing as white shimmering snow surrounds me. Relaxing on a park bench that my best friend and I had deemed our bench when we were little.
We're both 16 now. Both teenagers. Both students at the Japanese high school Karasuno. Both members of the school volleyball team. He's a pinch server. I, a middle blocker. We've known each other since we were little after I saved him from a couple of bullies. Since then, he started following me and joined volleyball.
We became close and before either of us knew it, we were inseparable. Just like how my brother and I were before he told a lie that had broken the trust I had in him. My brother and I are still close, just not as close as we used to be. My best friend and I are still as close as we always have been.
We've been close for so long that we even rubbed off on each other. We both pick on the dumbasses of our volleyball team, and just our team in general from time to time. Not going to lie, our upper classmen sometimes do some pretty stupid shit. I chuckle at the thought of their stupidity.
We both have anxiety. However, his anxiety is a lot more evident to the team than mine. I bet you if you even brought up the thought of me having anxiety, they would respond, "But he doesn't seem like an anxious person," or "Tsukishima? With anxiety? That's impossible." My anxiety has gotten a bit worse since I started smoking, but I don't care at this point.
…
"It's getting rather late, don't you think?" I hear a familiar voice and look to my right to face the person who'd come to see me.
It's my best friend, Tadashi Yamaguchi.
"Hi, Tadashi." I greet him with a small smile.
He doesn't smile back. Probably because he noticed the cigarette I'm still holding. Instead he sits next to me on the bench.
He doesn't look at me, he just looks up at the sky. I do the same as I take another drag.
It's a comfortable silence for a bit until he speaks up.
"I thought we agreed that you need to stop smoking," he says.
"Yeah," I start, "we agreed that I needed to, not that I would."
"Tsukki!"
I don't say anything. I don't even look at him. I don't need to. I know he's angry with me. I know quite well. For this same scene has happened too many times to count.
He sighs and then scoots closer to me. I know he hates secondhand smoking, but I also know he has a low cold resistance. So, if he has to choose between secondhand smoking and being cold, he's going to choose secondhand smoking.
"We're going to stop this habit of yours." He says calmly. "And I'll help you through it. I promise."
And with that he relaxes as I put my arm around his shoulder and falls asleep next to me as I continue to smoke in the peaceful, December 10, evening.