Work Text:
“one bottle of sake and a pack of cigarette please.”
Shin who currently man the counter eyed the tattooed man suspiciously.
“i didn't know you smoked, Nagumo-san.”
“occasionally.” the man shrugged lightly. The look in his eyes is darker, not a trace of his usual playfulness in view. Sakamoto, who was observing not far from the counter only stared at his old time friend.
“wait, Nagumo.” Sakamoto rummages under the counter searching for something. Nagumo heard the clinks of two shot glass that Sakamoto took out from under the counter as he handed it to him. “for sharing, if you need to.”
Nagumo chuckled. “with who?”
“if not with her, just think it as my representation as I can't visit her.”
“are you visiting your girlfriend, Nagumo-san?” Shin asked teasingly. “nah, just an old friend.” the dark haired man only shows a strained smile and left the store.
after walking a few steps from the store, Shin heard a thought.
‘just a dear old friend…’
as Nagumo arrived, there’s already a fresh stem of flower the color of her eyes. Maybe it was from the niece she always talks about.
He sat there, back resting on her tombstone. he poured the sake to both glass he got from Sakamoto. One glass he put beside the flower, the other one he gulp down immediately, starting his yearly custom.
Minutes turns into hours. He's there when the sun was right above his head, and still there now that it was replaced by the moon. his cheeks flushed a little, but his eyes as dark as ever. the bottle of sake was empty but his head was still full.
full of regret. full of anguish.full of what ifs. full of her.
it's the 8th anniversary of Rion Akao's death. it's the 8th year he's done this. it's the 8th time he spent a day by her grave. it's the 8th time he let his tears falls freely.
if Shishiba or Sakamoto saw him now, they will award him for talking the least sentence in a day as he usually talks their ears off.
as the night turns colder, Nagumo was on his last cigarette. he light it up, head as hazy as the night. he can't differentiate the smoke from his cigarette and the night fog. he mumbled “one last puff…” as he ihale it and turn off the cigarette. he got up, picks up the shot glass and empty bottle, and turns away.
“see you next year, Akao.”