Ashen slung his spear over his shoulder and stepped out, drifting toward the training grounds.
But when he got there… nothing came. No drive, no edge… just that familiar weight pressing down, smothering every spark of intent.
His eyes wandered without purpose until they landed on a bench tucked off to the side. That was enough. His body moved before he bothered to think, carrying him there on autopilot.
He sat, let the spear slip from his hand, and dug out a crumpled pack of cigarettes.
Tick. Tick. Tssh.
A flame caught, smoke curled, and he drew it in slow.
The drag slid through him like a long-forgotten lullaby… empty comfort, cheap release. Months without it, and already his veins welcomed the poison like an old friend.
Leaning back, he exhaled in lazy spirals toward the rising sun, the taste flooding his mouth with a strange blend of nostalgia and filth.
He wasn't sure which one it was. Maybe both.
A faint buzz at the back of his mind nudged him to get up. To go back to the grind. To stop wasting time.
Ashen flipped that thought a mental middle finger. A slow-motion "fuck you" wrapped in paper and set ablaze.
Then came the distant voice of his mother, whispering warnings; how smoking would be the death of him, how she begged him to quit.
He puffed out another cloud.
Yeah, well. Not today, Ma.
With a cigarette between his fingers and a haze of defiance curling around him, he felt like telling death, "I'll meet you halfway, asshole."
Really, with the images of lungs turning into jerky, the sexy cough that sounded like a dying walrus, and a wallet bleeding out with every pack, he never quit before… so how the hell had he stopped for three months?
No idea.
Life's too shitty to not have a vice.
Ashen figured this—this—was his last bastion of not giving a shit in a world that got crazier by the day.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Footsteps approached, soft and unhurried.
Tilting his head slightly, his gaze landed on Seraphine.
She walked toward him, bathed in the golden glow of sunrise, looking like some kind of celestial being gracing mortals with her presence.
"Hey there," she greeted, her voice laced with that sultry innocence that was only unique to her, "I knew I'd find you here. Back to training already? You just got discharged."
Ashen exhaled a slow puff, his lips curling slightly.
"You have to take it easy," she added. "That's what Miss Sabrina said, remember?"
He gave her a vague smile. "Hey there, Cupcake."
She paused, eyeing him carefully.
Something about him felt… off.
She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but the moment she saw him lift his hand and take another drag, realization clicked into place.
"Since when did you start smoking?" she asked, an eyebrow rising.
"...A while."
She took a seat beside him. "Oh? So you were a smoker from the start? That's weird; I've never seen you with cigarettes before."
"Yep," Ashen muttered, exhaling another slow stream of smoke. "It's been heretic lately. Didn't even have time for it. Can you believe that?"
Seraphine rolled her eyes. "Well, since you stopped, why start again now? Wouldn't it be better to just quit altogether?" She frowned. "You do know it's bad for your health, right?"
Ashen glanced at her, lips quirking in mild amusement.
"You're cute."
Yellow teeth and bleeding wallets never stopped smokers.
Neither did governments taxing it like gold.
Hell, they could slap rotting lung pictures all over the packs, and all that did was make people light up twice as hard.
Nicotine was a clingy bitch. Quitting was a war most people lost.
And here was Seraphine, thinking a simple "It's bad for your health" speech would do the trick.
"Hey!" She pouted. "I'm being serious! C'mon, gimme that."
She reached for the cigarette, but Ashen deftly dodged her attempt, placing a hand on her head and lightly pushing her away.
"Stay put, Bunny. I'm trying to have a moment here." His voice was lazy, almost amused.
Seraphine huffed, crossing her arms. "What are you talking about? It's just smoking. Why are you acting like it's some kind of sacred ritual—"
Her complaint was cut off as a thick cloud of smoke hit her square in the face.
Seraphine gagged, swatting at the air.
She shot Ashen a fake glare. "Ash! Don't you know about secondhand smoke? How can you have the heart to harm your dear Sera…" she finished in an overly dramatic tone, clutching her chest like a tragic heroine.
Ashen chuckled at her antics. "What? Are you part of the anti-smoking brigade too?"
"Anti-what now?" Seraphine gave him a curious look.
"You don't know about them?" He flicked some ash off the tip of his cigarette, shaking his head.
"Those guys are practically a cult back in Esperra nowadays. 'Secondhand smoke!' Always shrieking like you're a damn terrorist for lighting up on a park bench. Meanwhile, they're guzzling soy lattes and driving SUVs that choke the planet harder than a carton of Marlboros ever could."
"…Really?" Seraphine tilted her head. She still had no clue what he was on about, but one thing was certain: this Ashen was acting weirder by the minute.
"Really, really," he continued. "They're hypocrites, I tell ya. They just can't let us have our cancer sticks in peace while they're over there vaping cotton candy clouds like goddamn clowns."
Seraphine stifled a laugh. "I don't think they're as bad as you're making them out to be. With how many people smoking kills every year, I'd say they have some right in the matter, no?"
Her twitching lips gave away her dumbfounded amusement.
Ashen didn't notice… or maybe he just didn't care. He leaned back, exhaling another slow puff. "Tsk. Smoking's a dying art, my dear Sera. And I'll salute it with every flick of my lighter… fuck the Reaper, I've got a pack left, hehe."
He twirled his lighter between his fingers, flicking it open and shut like he was proving a point to the universe itself.
Seraphine's smile faded slightly. "…Okay, you're just being weird now. Ash, is everything okay?"
"…"
Silence stretched between them before he finally muttered, "...Yeah. Don't worry, I've been a little frustrated lately. Just getting it out of my system."
He forced a small, sheepish grin.
Seraphine laughed softly, shaking her head. "It's okay. Moments like these are kind of fun, too. Just… don't push yourself too hard. No one's invulnerable."
She reached out, gently brushing the stray strands of hair from his face. "No one will blame you for taking a moment to breathe, you know?"
Ashen stared at her, something unreadable flickering behind his tired eyes.
She always did this.
One second, she was a teasing little gremlin, and the next, she was this—a doting mother indulging her unruly son.
And maybe that would've annoyed him.
But he was the recipient of her warmth, her care… so he would never complain.
Seraphine swiftly stood, dusting off her pants. "Well, I'll give you a moment to sort out your thoughts. Looks like you've got a lot on your mind."
She shot him a wink before turning to leave. "See you later~"
"…See you."
Ashen watched her go, her words lingering long after she vanished from sight.
He closed his eyes.
For the first time this morning, he felt himself relax.
The guilt of skipping training… the nagging voices in his head telling him to push, push, push—all of it faded, drowned out by the last thing Seraphine had said.
The cool morning breeze brushed against his skin as he let himself indulge in the rare moment of stillness.
'…Just being lazy is the best feeling, after all.'
His thoughts dulled, slowing to nothing.
The world faded to black.
.
.
.