LOG: Yuuta and Akutsu
Who: Yuuta, Akutsu
When: Jan. 4th, Late Evening
Where: Corner Store near the University
Summary: Smoking shouldn't be this much a hassle, if you know I mean.
Warning/Rating: PG, for potty-mouths and cigarette choking
Player Comments: Yuuta-mun says: I ♥ Akutsu-mun.
Akutsu-mun says: Standard Akutsu warnings apply.
Comments/Criticism Allowed: Yes, but be nice! We're not bad people, I swear.
Tobacco in the Air and on your Breath
It was getting late, and the city was cold despite the fact that Yuuta was wearing his jacket--a rather warm one too, or so he'd thought before stepping out into the cold night air. So much for that. It wasn't as bad as he was making it sound, really, but he was already on edge.
He'd needed a cigarette a few hours ago, but had ignored the craving when he'd realized that his zippo, somewhere in the confusion of moving into his new room, had disappeared. He'd ripped through all his boxes, checking too many jean pockets for the missing lighter. It really sucked ass--that had been his favorite lighter. Zippo was the best.
And now he was stuck running down the street towards a corner store near the University, because even if it was just a cheap ass lighter, Yuuta needed one until he could go out and look for a new zippo. (It took time, looking for a good lighter.)
The door jingled as he opened it to go inside, and he was glad that they had a small heater. It was warm in the store.
It was late and it was freezing, but Akutsu didn’t care. He didn’t care because his need for tobacco to make his smokes. Because he was too cheap to buy a real pack. Real packs of cigarettes were treats. He got them for things like his birthday or Christmas or whatever. But it wasn’t fucking Christmas and he would kill someone if he ran out. He was going to run out too, because between work calling him in and moving into the dorms, he’d smoked quite a bit. And the patches and the gum weren’t doing much of anything for him. Which was why he was here in this shop. He was a regular there, had been since he had started going there. Then again, no one dared question him. It was suicide. As was interacting with Akutsu when he’d not had a smoke in a while.
He was looking for his brand of loose leaf and his rolling papers. They were out. It pulled a very normal sentiment from the punk. “Fuck.” Because he liked that brand. It tasted good. He would have to go for another brand and deal with it. But he didn’t have to like it one little bit. “God damn it.” He pulled out his pack of hand rolled cigs and scowled. This wasn’t time to be picky. Not at all.
He was about to pick up the tobacco when he heard the merry chime of the bell. He hated that sound. It was to damn happy for a place like this. It made him look towards the door with his usual harsh glare. But he said nothing, because everyone was entitled to come to this store. He didn’t own it or anything and he’d be shit out of luck if he got kicked out of the place and ran out. His eyes turned back to the selections and he just grabbed the first thing close to what he was used to. It would do.
Yuuta quickly asked the clerk near the entrance where the lighters were, and with a "over there" as a response mixed with a wave of the guys hand, Yuuta assumed towards the left. His sneakers were making that annoying squeaking noise and he tapped the toe on the tiled floor to get it to stop--well, to attempt anyway, since it doesn't always work that way. It stopped being quite so obnoxious though, and he, satisfied with the noise, turned a corner that already had someone in it and leaned down to see the different styles of lighters.
Most were plastic, he noticed. He grabbed a shiny silver one, figuring any of them would work, and a typical pack of Lark cigarettes while he was at it.
With each squeak of the tennis shoes, Akutsu could feel his temper rising. It was an annoying sound. Very annoying. It wasn’t like the awful nails of a chalkboard sound. He didn’t mind that sound. That was actually a rather nice sound. That sound reminded him of the music he liked, the kind that was more screaming than actual music. This sound just grated his nerves and a part of his wanted to go over to the one making it and break some legs so it would stop. But the sound went away just a little, enough to spare the other student’s legs.
He glanced again out of the corner of his eye as he stalked towards the man at the counter. He all but slammed the tobacco and papers on the counter.
“This.” He demanded. His eyes dared the man at the counter to ask for an ID. He was old enough. He’d been old enough for a while. But hell, he’d been smoking since he was 15, even before that. So he didn’t see the big deal. Besides, he didn’t have anything like a wallet to hold that shit. Wallets were for rich bastards. His money was shoved into his jeans in a big, messy wad of yen. A wad he was now pulling out and leaving on the counter, in a crumbled pile, so he could fish for a few coins. His eyes kept sliding to the other, if only cause he wasn’t used to anyone else being in the store with him.
Holding the lighter and cigarettes in his hand, Yuuta fished out his wallet while slowly walking towards the counter, waiting behind the other man in the store who appeared to be buying, well, tobacco, apparently. Yuuta didn't know how to roll your own--it was interesting, for sure, but he decided to look back at his own hand instead. It was shaking slightly, and he grinned, chagrined. He really needed a cigarette. Maybe it wasn't a good thing, needing a cigarette so badly, but then, he hadn't had one in a whole damn day--that was a long time.
"I can help you here," an older woman said, motioning around to another side of the desk, and Yuuta nodded, stepping up. "Just this?"
"Yeah, thanks," he said, pulling a few bills out--straighter, he noticed, than the tobacco guy's money had been. 'Course, the whole man looked a bit worse for wear--well, sort of. He just looked like anyone who messed with him would finish a lot worse than when they started. At least, the man counting the money seemed to think so. His hands were shaking worse than Yuuta's, and he looked a bit... well, scared might be a bit too strong, but it's close enough.
"Here's your change," the woman said, and Yuuta looked back at her again, only having been distracted for a second. "Oh, yeah, thanks. No ID check?"
"That'd be losing a sale, kid." She turned around, leaving Yuuta to grab his lighter with an annoyed frown. He was old enough to buy cigarettes, legally.
Akutsu finished his counting. He still had enough for a beer. That was good. A man had to have his vices. And so what if Akutsu’s vices would probably kill him before he saw 25. It wasn’t like there was a point. Life fast, live dangerous, don’t fear death, let death fear you. It was a good way to live really and honestly, if he were going to die young, he would have already kicked it by now. So if he wanted a good smoke and a cheap beer, then damn it, he was going to have that, and nothing in the world was going to stop him. It was probably the one and only thing in life that he’d ever allowed himself to become committed to.
Having paid, he took what was left and started to shove the cash and his change back into his pocket. He didn’t care if the other person in the shop show. He wasn’t afraid of some college kid. He wouldn’t be jumped by a mugger. If anything, he would mug the mugger. Might even make a quick buck that way. But that was pointless and a waste of his breath. He had better things to do, like get himself a nice long hard smoke. He was sure what he’d just gotten would last at least two weeks, if he was stingy with himself. Damn, but school books had really killed his cash flow.
Akutsu turned on his heal, with his purchase, all but shoving his way past the smaller male. Sure the other wasn’t really in the way and Akutsu could have stepped an inch to the left or to the right to have avoided such a thing, but Akutsu moved aside for no man. He didn’t apologize or anything. He just kept right on walking. After all, he wasn’t about to light up right there. Not because it wasn’t allowed, but because he rather pollute the nice fresh air outside.
Following the other man's steps, ignoring the fact that he'd been somewhat pushed aside--well, Yuuta was starting a fight he'd probably--well, that guy was definitely stronger than him, so probably was an iffy term to use--lose just because somebody was pissed at the world--which is what it looked like to Yuuta, but it wasn't any of his business anyway.
He felt the cold air hit his face and hands before he even got outside, the door previously having been held open by the other guy. Moving just a few feet from the door, Yuuta grabbed a cig from the box and stuck the leftovers in his pocket before putting the cigarette between his lips.
It felt good already, he decided and quickly took the new lighter by the hand, carefully--and somewhat patiently, because plastic lighters were a bitch to deal with, especially when they weren't used to lighting up yet--trying to get the fire to start. His hand was shaking enough that he had to flick it a few times, and it wasn't helping at all, and while just the comfort of having the cigarette against his lips was amazing, it really wasn't enough. Really.
"Damn it," he muttered, covering the lighter with both hands. It sparked, for a minute, but not long enough to do anything.
It had only taken three steps outside before Akutsu had one his own smokes dangling from his lips and about two more seconds for his to fish his lighter from his pocket to set fire to the tip. He took in a deep breath and for a moment, all the world was right and good again. There might have even been the ghost of a smile upon lips that only seemed to have one setting; pissed off. That was better. Oh so much better. Those patches and that gun didn’t compare at all to the taste of the smoke that burned it’s way into his lungs. Later, he would have to take the time to roll his next batch, but for now, he was contented to just lean against the wall of the building, ignoring the way the wind bit at his bare arms and quietly suck upon his cancer causing pacifier.
He was in the perfect position to watch the person who has also been in the store. It would seem he hadn’t been the only dumb ass jonesing for a smoke. It was nice to see someone else equally addicted to Sweet Lady Nicotine as he was. But it would seem that the other was a little more pathetic than anything else. Probably just some kid. After all, they had those stupid kiddy locks on those plastic lighters now days. He always broke them before he had discovered the joys of Zippo. And wasn’t’ it just so funny to watch the other trying to give himself a light and failing miserably. It might have brought a since of pity to Akutsu’s heart…if he had possessed such a thing. Instead, his eyes remained trained on the other, wondering just how long it would take before it light and also wondering how dumb an idiot had to be to by a defective lighter in the first place.
Obviously very dumb. And he just couldn’t help himself. His voice came, a little stunted by the fact that he had mastered the ability to talk with a cigarette still hanging from his lips. “Oi. You know, you gotta be smarter than the fucking lighter…”
Yuuta almost jumped, not expecting to be spoken to. He gave a chagrined half-grin, holding the lighter up, "Plastic is my enemy. When it comes to lighters anyway. I hate these things." Giving his thumb another flick, the lighter seemed to respond with an eerie quiet. (It was probably just laughing on the inside.)
Yuuta was half-tempted to just throw the damn thing on the ground and go buy a new one. He'd probably run into the same problem though. Besides, he liked the silver coloring, and damn it, he'd seen a spark so it could totally light up if it felt up to it. If, being the keyword there.
It was cold, so he put his hands back around the lighter, trying to get it to burn.
Akutsu smirked when the other jumped. It was always hilarious to watch people jump out of their own skin like that. He remained on the wall now, taking a long drag and blowing the smoke at the other man. Now that was something. Someone who had balls enough to talk back. Most people there days just ran, or screamed for the police or whatever it was cowards did. It was a nice change of pace in a way, but he hoped it didn’t become a habit, because it might mean he was losing his edge and that would be a fate worse than death. “I’m sure the feelings fucking mutual.” It seemed so as the lighter was not behaving itself at all. If he was like his old teammate, he might have shouted about how unlucky the other guy was, but Akutsu didn’t believe in luck the same ways. Because he played with loaded dice.
Sharp eyes caught the other trying to force the lighter into submission. It was really pathetic. “You know…staring at it and shit ain’t going to do you no fucking good. This is the real word and you don’t got fucking force skills. You got a crap lighter and it ain’t going to fucking light shit for you.” He finally took the half smoked stick from his mouth, but even with one hand occupied, he as still as dangerous as ever, leaning against the building like that. “I’d even go back in there and tell grandma that she better cough back up my fucking cash cause she sold me a piece of shit like that, but you did it to yourself, and rolling old ladies ain’t my style.” Oh there were rumors of course, in Yamabuki, but even the biggest hellion, such as himself, had some sort of code.
“But you’re starting to fucking annoy me with that bright eyed hope of yours. Hope ain’t going to make it light that. And your in my god damn way…“ But Akutsu didn’t’ look like he was going anywhere. “So you better fucking catch this.” His other hand moved, fast. Always fast. Like with tennis. He’d not lost it, even after retiring like he had. He had just thrown his own lighter at the other.
Dropping his own lighter, barely keeping hold of the cigarette now in his hands, Yuuta managed to fling an arm out and catch the lighter the other had just thrown, the zippo smoothe against his palm and Yuuta already loved it ten times more than the stupid lighter that was now at his feet. He looked up at the guy, somewhat still questioning what the hell he'd gotten it thrown at him for, but he wasn't about to give it back until he'd used it either.
"And here I'd got the feeling you weren't big on generosity. Thanks," Yuuta said, easily flipping the cap and lighting the zippo, put it against the end of his cig with what felt like the best relief he'd had in months. Inhaling immediately, loving that the crave was finally being satisfied. God, it was good. He lifted the cigarette from his mouth, breathing out and shivering slightly, partially from the cold and partially from the way he felt now with a burning cigarette in his fingers and lungs.
Akutsu was going to keep an eye on his lighter. It was a nice lighter. Probably the most expensive thing he had. It had been a gift. He wasn’t about to admit from whom. But it was very nice and it was so him. Dull, gunmetal gray with what looked like a very angry skull etched into the metal. It also light like a damn charm. Never thanks the giver, but then again, Akutsu didn’t say sappy words like “thank you”. They just weren’t a part of his vocabulary. He had better words that he used far more often. And right now, he was going to be using them without much effort or thought put into them. “No. No I ain’t. So I best be getting that back from you, or I’ll have to fucking come over there and break your damned face.” Not that the other boy hadn’t had such a thing happen before. There was a rather obvious scar at the temple. But it wouldn’t stop him if the dumb ass was idiot enough to think of taking something that belonged to Akutsu Jin, even something lent as this had been.
He watched the other light and waited for that first beautiful smoke. Oh, he knew that feeling very well. The feeling he had just seen go through the other. He pushed off the wall, lanky limbs taking him ever so easily towards the shorter male. It wasn’t a walk, it was a prowl. A hunter going steadily towards something it thought was delicious to eat. “So…my fucking lighter…” He suggested, rough hand going out in a demanding fashion.
Yuuta looked at the lighter, admiring it's feel--it had obviously been used often--and felt a pang for his own long-gone zippo. He went ahead and held it out for the other guy to grab--he wasn't going to throw it and have it break if the other guy sucked at playing catch. He smiled around his cigarette, and then spoke after he finished another round, "I like my face the way it is."
Oh, Akutsu didn’t like that at all. Didn’t like the way the other eyes his lighter. Did the other man have a death wish? If so, the punk was going to be very happy to be the shorter boy’s grim reaper. Because he was serious. Sure, he threatened people a lot. It was almost a hobby of his. He didn’t think there was a day that went by that he didn’t threaten someone with bodily harm. And yes, while a great many times, he didn’t get through with it for one reason or another, that was the exception, not the rule. His bite was just as bad as his bark, if not worse. So when he said he was going to break some strangers face, he meant every single word of it. And he didn’t like that for a moment, it looked to him as if the kid was going to keep his lighter. Yet, after a moment, a hand reached out and his lighter was offered back to him.
He snatched it up with a violent grab. It immediately went into the pocket that held his crinkled money. It would be safe there, away from kleptomaniacs with death wishes. Once he was sure it was safe, he smirked. It did nothing to make Akutsu seem any more pleasant than he already was. In fact, it detracted from him a great deal. “Bet you do. Not that you got nothing to be fucking proud of.”
Really, he had no room to talk. Akutsu wasn’t all that attractive, all sharpness and feral danger. Sure, this boy might have been attractive to some people, just as Akutsu himself might have been, but here, in the cold, sharing a common addiction, there were just two nicotine strapped bastards. So strapped that Akutsu was actually lighting a new cigarette off of his old one. Chain smoking…the newest from of his unhealthy lifestyle.
“So you smoke Larks…fucking pansy ass smoke.” Then again, if someone brought something like that, something brand, he wouldn’t complain about it one bit. In fact, he’d happily smoke them. He’d bitch after, but while he had then, he’d not have a word against them. Such were the ways of the cheap.
Yuuta shrugged, a little unnerved by the somewhat frightening guy now next to him. He was fairly sure he wasn't going to get hit or anything, but it was still a bit daunting to be next to someone who seemed to use 'fuck' as much as 'hello'--more, actually--and make threats as easily as someone else would talk about a movie they'd seen recently.
He responded after watching his cigarette slowly shrink, "They work. Larks, I mean. I just needed something. Anything." He didn't bother answering the comment about his face being plain--it looked a lot better than when it was covered in blood and bruises, and Yuuta had had his fair share of fights in high school, so he knew what that looked like. (Not to mention felt like.)
"I've never wrapped my own," Yuuta said, after a moment, contemplating his neighbor. He thought it looked interesting--he'd probably screw up and burn himself if he tried it though.
So the smaller male wanted to talk with him. He supposed he’d have to put up with it. After all, he had started it. It wouldn’t do to just walk away. Besides, he had another cigarette lit. He was here, at least for the duration of the new smoke. And really, whatever conversation would there be, but the topic of the thing that junkies had in common…their drug of choice. And for once, Akutsu couldn’t say a thing about how pathetic it was for someone to be so desperate. After all, he was in the same boat. In fact, it was probably in a worse boat. If this boy’s addiction was a blow up raft, then Akutsu’s was the damned Queen fucking Mary. So, instead, there was an abrupt nod of the head, as if to say he knew the feeling all too well.
“You ain’t never rolled your own?” He supposed it was a lost art. Only the real hard core bad asses rolled these days. And even then, not so much. After all, done wrong, a rolled cigarette looked just like a joint. Akutsu did not do his wrong. Because he refused to be thought of as a stoner. He rather liked the labels he had been given and those he had attached to himself. He was fond of them.
“They fucking taste better for one and there more pure than that shit. Nothing added. Just the good shit.” He returned to his leaning wall and returned to his former position against it. “Cheaper too. Those fucking things you have cost more. I can roll forty or fifty of mine for what you paid for the one pack of yours.” Well, it was sort of true, but only if he was being stingy with the amount of tobacco he used per smoke. “You should fucking try it some time. Best fucking smoke you’ll ever have.”
Yuuta made a 'hm' sound from the back of his throat as he blew smoke from his mouth, the cigarette closing in on his fingers now. The warmth from the cigarette was dissapating now, his crazy need for a smoke damped down now that he'd had one. He sighed and took one last lungful from his cig before dropping it to the ground and crushing it with his sneaker for good measure, "Maybe I'll have to try that some time." He turned and took a step back, tugging on his jacket to bring it in closer to his body. "It's fucking cold out here."
It would seem their pleasant…or at least as pleasant as a talk with Akutsu got…conversation was over with. The other finished his smoke and Akutsu was nursing this one a little more than he had the last one. He shrugged, and from behind the smoke, Akutsu mumbled. “You’ll fucking thank me for it.”
Not that the other man would, because they had never exchanged names. Akutsu wouldn’t either because he was just rude like that. There was no need for name exchanging. It wasn’t like they were friends or anything. They had been just two guys talking about smoking. He just continued to lean and ignore the biting cold against his bare arms. It would have to be colder before he resorted to a jacket of any kind. He’d had enough of jackets when he’d had to wear the Yamabuki white. He hated it, because blood was a bitch to get out of that uniform.
But the other man was right, it was cold. But he wasn‘t going to move from his spot, because he was sure that this guy when to his college. Last thing Akutsu wanted was to walk all the way back with someone. He was a loner and preferred it that way. “And you’re a fucking pussy, for bitching about it.” He added at the comment about the weather.
Yuuta shook his head, "I bet you never got your mouth washed out with soap when you were a kid, huh?"
He stuck his hands in his pocket, feeling the cigarettes with his fingers. He pulled it out and tossed one to the other guy as a last thought, "I'll try your style some time. You should try that--probably not as fantastic, but I like them. I'm gonna' head back." He started to walk away, his sneakers almost leading the way by themselves.
Akutsu’s eyes narrowed. That was dangerous territory the other man had nearly stepped into. Very dangerous. He understood the implications of course. The bastard was telling him that he hadn’t been raised right. And that was a very quick way to find Akutsu trying to figure out how best to rip your spine out of your body. Because, as shitty as his home life had been, his mom had always tried very hard for him, for them both. And he wouldn’t let anyone, not anyone say shit about her. Not even hidden in an implication like that. No…it wasn’t his mom’s fault he was like this. He was just a bad son. Still, he didn’t let it get to him. It had just been a saying. Not a real insult.
He pulled the cigarette from his lips and preceded to put it out using his own palm. The sound of sizzling and the pain was enough to keep him from doing anything too violent. “Fuck no.” He finally stated. “There ain’t a bar of soap big enough for a bastard like me.” He was surprised when a smoke flew his way, he caught it, unconsciously. Caught it and stared at it as if it was going to bite him. He found himself tucking it away among his own smokes.
“You do that.” He stated. And as an afterthought of his own, the punk threw out something. Something that wasn’t a smoke but equally important. “Oi…bastard…name’s Akutsu…and you better fucking remember it.” The other was going in the direction of the school and now he was certain the brunette was a student. Surely, he’d run into the other again. Maybe when he did, he’d return the favor with a rolled smoke…if he wasn’t still pissed off.
When: Jan. 4th, Late Evening
Where: Corner Store near the University
Summary: Smoking shouldn't be this much a hassle, if you know I mean.
Warning/Rating: PG, for potty-mouths and cigarette choking
Player Comments: Yuuta-mun says: I ♥ Akutsu-mun.
Akutsu-mun says: Standard Akutsu warnings apply.
Comments/Criticism Allowed: Yes, but be nice! We're not bad people, I swear.
Tobacco in the Air and on your Breath
It was getting late, and the city was cold despite the fact that Yuuta was wearing his jacket--a rather warm one too, or so he'd thought before stepping out into the cold night air. So much for that. It wasn't as bad as he was making it sound, really, but he was already on edge.
He'd needed a cigarette a few hours ago, but had ignored the craving when he'd realized that his zippo, somewhere in the confusion of moving into his new room, had disappeared. He'd ripped through all his boxes, checking too many jean pockets for the missing lighter. It really sucked ass--that had been his favorite lighter. Zippo was the best.
And now he was stuck running down the street towards a corner store near the University, because even if it was just a cheap ass lighter, Yuuta needed one until he could go out and look for a new zippo. (It took time, looking for a good lighter.)
The door jingled as he opened it to go inside, and he was glad that they had a small heater. It was warm in the store.
It was late and it was freezing, but Akutsu didn’t care. He didn’t care because his need for tobacco to make his smokes. Because he was too cheap to buy a real pack. Real packs of cigarettes were treats. He got them for things like his birthday or Christmas or whatever. But it wasn’t fucking Christmas and he would kill someone if he ran out. He was going to run out too, because between work calling him in and moving into the dorms, he’d smoked quite a bit. And the patches and the gum weren’t doing much of anything for him. Which was why he was here in this shop. He was a regular there, had been since he had started going there. Then again, no one dared question him. It was suicide. As was interacting with Akutsu when he’d not had a smoke in a while.
He was looking for his brand of loose leaf and his rolling papers. They were out. It pulled a very normal sentiment from the punk. “Fuck.” Because he liked that brand. It tasted good. He would have to go for another brand and deal with it. But he didn’t have to like it one little bit. “God damn it.” He pulled out his pack of hand rolled cigs and scowled. This wasn’t time to be picky. Not at all.
He was about to pick up the tobacco when he heard the merry chime of the bell. He hated that sound. It was to damn happy for a place like this. It made him look towards the door with his usual harsh glare. But he said nothing, because everyone was entitled to come to this store. He didn’t own it or anything and he’d be shit out of luck if he got kicked out of the place and ran out. His eyes turned back to the selections and he just grabbed the first thing close to what he was used to. It would do.
Yuuta quickly asked the clerk near the entrance where the lighters were, and with a "over there" as a response mixed with a wave of the guys hand, Yuuta assumed towards the left. His sneakers were making that annoying squeaking noise and he tapped the toe on the tiled floor to get it to stop--well, to attempt anyway, since it doesn't always work that way. It stopped being quite so obnoxious though, and he, satisfied with the noise, turned a corner that already had someone in it and leaned down to see the different styles of lighters.
Most were plastic, he noticed. He grabbed a shiny silver one, figuring any of them would work, and a typical pack of Lark cigarettes while he was at it.
With each squeak of the tennis shoes, Akutsu could feel his temper rising. It was an annoying sound. Very annoying. It wasn’t like the awful nails of a chalkboard sound. He didn’t mind that sound. That was actually a rather nice sound. That sound reminded him of the music he liked, the kind that was more screaming than actual music. This sound just grated his nerves and a part of his wanted to go over to the one making it and break some legs so it would stop. But the sound went away just a little, enough to spare the other student’s legs.
He glanced again out of the corner of his eye as he stalked towards the man at the counter. He all but slammed the tobacco and papers on the counter.
“This.” He demanded. His eyes dared the man at the counter to ask for an ID. He was old enough. He’d been old enough for a while. But hell, he’d been smoking since he was 15, even before that. So he didn’t see the big deal. Besides, he didn’t have anything like a wallet to hold that shit. Wallets were for rich bastards. His money was shoved into his jeans in a big, messy wad of yen. A wad he was now pulling out and leaving on the counter, in a crumbled pile, so he could fish for a few coins. His eyes kept sliding to the other, if only cause he wasn’t used to anyone else being in the store with him.
Holding the lighter and cigarettes in his hand, Yuuta fished out his wallet while slowly walking towards the counter, waiting behind the other man in the store who appeared to be buying, well, tobacco, apparently. Yuuta didn't know how to roll your own--it was interesting, for sure, but he decided to look back at his own hand instead. It was shaking slightly, and he grinned, chagrined. He really needed a cigarette. Maybe it wasn't a good thing, needing a cigarette so badly, but then, he hadn't had one in a whole damn day--that was a long time.
"I can help you here," an older woman said, motioning around to another side of the desk, and Yuuta nodded, stepping up. "Just this?"
"Yeah, thanks," he said, pulling a few bills out--straighter, he noticed, than the tobacco guy's money had been. 'Course, the whole man looked a bit worse for wear--well, sort of. He just looked like anyone who messed with him would finish a lot worse than when they started. At least, the man counting the money seemed to think so. His hands were shaking worse than Yuuta's, and he looked a bit... well, scared might be a bit too strong, but it's close enough.
"Here's your change," the woman said, and Yuuta looked back at her again, only having been distracted for a second. "Oh, yeah, thanks. No ID check?"
"That'd be losing a sale, kid." She turned around, leaving Yuuta to grab his lighter with an annoyed frown. He was old enough to buy cigarettes, legally.
Akutsu finished his counting. He still had enough for a beer. That was good. A man had to have his vices. And so what if Akutsu’s vices would probably kill him before he saw 25. It wasn’t like there was a point. Life fast, live dangerous, don’t fear death, let death fear you. It was a good way to live really and honestly, if he were going to die young, he would have already kicked it by now. So if he wanted a good smoke and a cheap beer, then damn it, he was going to have that, and nothing in the world was going to stop him. It was probably the one and only thing in life that he’d ever allowed himself to become committed to.
Having paid, he took what was left and started to shove the cash and his change back into his pocket. He didn’t care if the other person in the shop show. He wasn’t afraid of some college kid. He wouldn’t be jumped by a mugger. If anything, he would mug the mugger. Might even make a quick buck that way. But that was pointless and a waste of his breath. He had better things to do, like get himself a nice long hard smoke. He was sure what he’d just gotten would last at least two weeks, if he was stingy with himself. Damn, but school books had really killed his cash flow.
Akutsu turned on his heal, with his purchase, all but shoving his way past the smaller male. Sure the other wasn’t really in the way and Akutsu could have stepped an inch to the left or to the right to have avoided such a thing, but Akutsu moved aside for no man. He didn’t apologize or anything. He just kept right on walking. After all, he wasn’t about to light up right there. Not because it wasn’t allowed, but because he rather pollute the nice fresh air outside.
Following the other man's steps, ignoring the fact that he'd been somewhat pushed aside--well, Yuuta was starting a fight he'd probably--well, that guy was definitely stronger than him, so probably was an iffy term to use--lose just because somebody was pissed at the world--which is what it looked like to Yuuta, but it wasn't any of his business anyway.
He felt the cold air hit his face and hands before he even got outside, the door previously having been held open by the other guy. Moving just a few feet from the door, Yuuta grabbed a cig from the box and stuck the leftovers in his pocket before putting the cigarette between his lips.
It felt good already, he decided and quickly took the new lighter by the hand, carefully--and somewhat patiently, because plastic lighters were a bitch to deal with, especially when they weren't used to lighting up yet--trying to get the fire to start. His hand was shaking enough that he had to flick it a few times, and it wasn't helping at all, and while just the comfort of having the cigarette against his lips was amazing, it really wasn't enough. Really.
"Damn it," he muttered, covering the lighter with both hands. It sparked, for a minute, but not long enough to do anything.
It had only taken three steps outside before Akutsu had one his own smokes dangling from his lips and about two more seconds for his to fish his lighter from his pocket to set fire to the tip. He took in a deep breath and for a moment, all the world was right and good again. There might have even been the ghost of a smile upon lips that only seemed to have one setting; pissed off. That was better. Oh so much better. Those patches and that gun didn’t compare at all to the taste of the smoke that burned it’s way into his lungs. Later, he would have to take the time to roll his next batch, but for now, he was contented to just lean against the wall of the building, ignoring the way the wind bit at his bare arms and quietly suck upon his cancer causing pacifier.
He was in the perfect position to watch the person who has also been in the store. It would seem he hadn’t been the only dumb ass jonesing for a smoke. It was nice to see someone else equally addicted to Sweet Lady Nicotine as he was. But it would seem that the other was a little more pathetic than anything else. Probably just some kid. After all, they had those stupid kiddy locks on those plastic lighters now days. He always broke them before he had discovered the joys of Zippo. And wasn’t’ it just so funny to watch the other trying to give himself a light and failing miserably. It might have brought a since of pity to Akutsu’s heart…if he had possessed such a thing. Instead, his eyes remained trained on the other, wondering just how long it would take before it light and also wondering how dumb an idiot had to be to by a defective lighter in the first place.
Obviously very dumb. And he just couldn’t help himself. His voice came, a little stunted by the fact that he had mastered the ability to talk with a cigarette still hanging from his lips. “Oi. You know, you gotta be smarter than the fucking lighter…”
Yuuta almost jumped, not expecting to be spoken to. He gave a chagrined half-grin, holding the lighter up, "Plastic is my enemy. When it comes to lighters anyway. I hate these things." Giving his thumb another flick, the lighter seemed to respond with an eerie quiet. (It was probably just laughing on the inside.)
Yuuta was half-tempted to just throw the damn thing on the ground and go buy a new one. He'd probably run into the same problem though. Besides, he liked the silver coloring, and damn it, he'd seen a spark so it could totally light up if it felt up to it. If, being the keyword there.
It was cold, so he put his hands back around the lighter, trying to get it to burn.
Akutsu smirked when the other jumped. It was always hilarious to watch people jump out of their own skin like that. He remained on the wall now, taking a long drag and blowing the smoke at the other man. Now that was something. Someone who had balls enough to talk back. Most people there days just ran, or screamed for the police or whatever it was cowards did. It was a nice change of pace in a way, but he hoped it didn’t become a habit, because it might mean he was losing his edge and that would be a fate worse than death. “I’m sure the feelings fucking mutual.” It seemed so as the lighter was not behaving itself at all. If he was like his old teammate, he might have shouted about how unlucky the other guy was, but Akutsu didn’t believe in luck the same ways. Because he played with loaded dice.
Sharp eyes caught the other trying to force the lighter into submission. It was really pathetic. “You know…staring at it and shit ain’t going to do you no fucking good. This is the real word and you don’t got fucking force skills. You got a crap lighter and it ain’t going to fucking light shit for you.” He finally took the half smoked stick from his mouth, but even with one hand occupied, he as still as dangerous as ever, leaning against the building like that. “I’d even go back in there and tell grandma that she better cough back up my fucking cash cause she sold me a piece of shit like that, but you did it to yourself, and rolling old ladies ain’t my style.” Oh there were rumors of course, in Yamabuki, but even the biggest hellion, such as himself, had some sort of code.
“But you’re starting to fucking annoy me with that bright eyed hope of yours. Hope ain’t going to make it light that. And your in my god damn way…“ But Akutsu didn’t’ look like he was going anywhere. “So you better fucking catch this.” His other hand moved, fast. Always fast. Like with tennis. He’d not lost it, even after retiring like he had. He had just thrown his own lighter at the other.
Dropping his own lighter, barely keeping hold of the cigarette now in his hands, Yuuta managed to fling an arm out and catch the lighter the other had just thrown, the zippo smoothe against his palm and Yuuta already loved it ten times more than the stupid lighter that was now at his feet. He looked up at the guy, somewhat still questioning what the hell he'd gotten it thrown at him for, but he wasn't about to give it back until he'd used it either.
"And here I'd got the feeling you weren't big on generosity. Thanks," Yuuta said, easily flipping the cap and lighting the zippo, put it against the end of his cig with what felt like the best relief he'd had in months. Inhaling immediately, loving that the crave was finally being satisfied. God, it was good. He lifted the cigarette from his mouth, breathing out and shivering slightly, partially from the cold and partially from the way he felt now with a burning cigarette in his fingers and lungs.
Akutsu was going to keep an eye on his lighter. It was a nice lighter. Probably the most expensive thing he had. It had been a gift. He wasn’t about to admit from whom. But it was very nice and it was so him. Dull, gunmetal gray with what looked like a very angry skull etched into the metal. It also light like a damn charm. Never thanks the giver, but then again, Akutsu didn’t say sappy words like “thank you”. They just weren’t a part of his vocabulary. He had better words that he used far more often. And right now, he was going to be using them without much effort or thought put into them. “No. No I ain’t. So I best be getting that back from you, or I’ll have to fucking come over there and break your damned face.” Not that the other boy hadn’t had such a thing happen before. There was a rather obvious scar at the temple. But it wouldn’t stop him if the dumb ass was idiot enough to think of taking something that belonged to Akutsu Jin, even something lent as this had been.
He watched the other light and waited for that first beautiful smoke. Oh, he knew that feeling very well. The feeling he had just seen go through the other. He pushed off the wall, lanky limbs taking him ever so easily towards the shorter male. It wasn’t a walk, it was a prowl. A hunter going steadily towards something it thought was delicious to eat. “So…my fucking lighter…” He suggested, rough hand going out in a demanding fashion.
Yuuta looked at the lighter, admiring it's feel--it had obviously been used often--and felt a pang for his own long-gone zippo. He went ahead and held it out for the other guy to grab--he wasn't going to throw it and have it break if the other guy sucked at playing catch. He smiled around his cigarette, and then spoke after he finished another round, "I like my face the way it is."
Oh, Akutsu didn’t like that at all. Didn’t like the way the other eyes his lighter. Did the other man have a death wish? If so, the punk was going to be very happy to be the shorter boy’s grim reaper. Because he was serious. Sure, he threatened people a lot. It was almost a hobby of his. He didn’t think there was a day that went by that he didn’t threaten someone with bodily harm. And yes, while a great many times, he didn’t get through with it for one reason or another, that was the exception, not the rule. His bite was just as bad as his bark, if not worse. So when he said he was going to break some strangers face, he meant every single word of it. And he didn’t like that for a moment, it looked to him as if the kid was going to keep his lighter. Yet, after a moment, a hand reached out and his lighter was offered back to him.
He snatched it up with a violent grab. It immediately went into the pocket that held his crinkled money. It would be safe there, away from kleptomaniacs with death wishes. Once he was sure it was safe, he smirked. It did nothing to make Akutsu seem any more pleasant than he already was. In fact, it detracted from him a great deal. “Bet you do. Not that you got nothing to be fucking proud of.”
Really, he had no room to talk. Akutsu wasn’t all that attractive, all sharpness and feral danger. Sure, this boy might have been attractive to some people, just as Akutsu himself might have been, but here, in the cold, sharing a common addiction, there were just two nicotine strapped bastards. So strapped that Akutsu was actually lighting a new cigarette off of his old one. Chain smoking…the newest from of his unhealthy lifestyle.
“So you smoke Larks…fucking pansy ass smoke.” Then again, if someone brought something like that, something brand, he wouldn’t complain about it one bit. In fact, he’d happily smoke them. He’d bitch after, but while he had then, he’d not have a word against them. Such were the ways of the cheap.
Yuuta shrugged, a little unnerved by the somewhat frightening guy now next to him. He was fairly sure he wasn't going to get hit or anything, but it was still a bit daunting to be next to someone who seemed to use 'fuck' as much as 'hello'--more, actually--and make threats as easily as someone else would talk about a movie they'd seen recently.
He responded after watching his cigarette slowly shrink, "They work. Larks, I mean. I just needed something. Anything." He didn't bother answering the comment about his face being plain--it looked a lot better than when it was covered in blood and bruises, and Yuuta had had his fair share of fights in high school, so he knew what that looked like. (Not to mention felt like.)
"I've never wrapped my own," Yuuta said, after a moment, contemplating his neighbor. He thought it looked interesting--he'd probably screw up and burn himself if he tried it though.
So the smaller male wanted to talk with him. He supposed he’d have to put up with it. After all, he had started it. It wouldn’t do to just walk away. Besides, he had another cigarette lit. He was here, at least for the duration of the new smoke. And really, whatever conversation would there be, but the topic of the thing that junkies had in common…their drug of choice. And for once, Akutsu couldn’t say a thing about how pathetic it was for someone to be so desperate. After all, he was in the same boat. In fact, it was probably in a worse boat. If this boy’s addiction was a blow up raft, then Akutsu’s was the damned Queen fucking Mary. So, instead, there was an abrupt nod of the head, as if to say he knew the feeling all too well.
“You ain’t never rolled your own?” He supposed it was a lost art. Only the real hard core bad asses rolled these days. And even then, not so much. After all, done wrong, a rolled cigarette looked just like a joint. Akutsu did not do his wrong. Because he refused to be thought of as a stoner. He rather liked the labels he had been given and those he had attached to himself. He was fond of them.
“They fucking taste better for one and there more pure than that shit. Nothing added. Just the good shit.” He returned to his leaning wall and returned to his former position against it. “Cheaper too. Those fucking things you have cost more. I can roll forty or fifty of mine for what you paid for the one pack of yours.” Well, it was sort of true, but only if he was being stingy with the amount of tobacco he used per smoke. “You should fucking try it some time. Best fucking smoke you’ll ever have.”
Yuuta made a 'hm' sound from the back of his throat as he blew smoke from his mouth, the cigarette closing in on his fingers now. The warmth from the cigarette was dissapating now, his crazy need for a smoke damped down now that he'd had one. He sighed and took one last lungful from his cig before dropping it to the ground and crushing it with his sneaker for good measure, "Maybe I'll have to try that some time." He turned and took a step back, tugging on his jacket to bring it in closer to his body. "It's fucking cold out here."
It would seem their pleasant…or at least as pleasant as a talk with Akutsu got…conversation was over with. The other finished his smoke and Akutsu was nursing this one a little more than he had the last one. He shrugged, and from behind the smoke, Akutsu mumbled. “You’ll fucking thank me for it.”
Not that the other man would, because they had never exchanged names. Akutsu wouldn’t either because he was just rude like that. There was no need for name exchanging. It wasn’t like they were friends or anything. They had been just two guys talking about smoking. He just continued to lean and ignore the biting cold against his bare arms. It would have to be colder before he resorted to a jacket of any kind. He’d had enough of jackets when he’d had to wear the Yamabuki white. He hated it, because blood was a bitch to get out of that uniform.
But the other man was right, it was cold. But he wasn‘t going to move from his spot, because he was sure that this guy when to his college. Last thing Akutsu wanted was to walk all the way back with someone. He was a loner and preferred it that way. “And you’re a fucking pussy, for bitching about it.” He added at the comment about the weather.
Yuuta shook his head, "I bet you never got your mouth washed out with soap when you were a kid, huh?"
He stuck his hands in his pocket, feeling the cigarettes with his fingers. He pulled it out and tossed one to the other guy as a last thought, "I'll try your style some time. You should try that--probably not as fantastic, but I like them. I'm gonna' head back." He started to walk away, his sneakers almost leading the way by themselves.
Akutsu’s eyes narrowed. That was dangerous territory the other man had nearly stepped into. Very dangerous. He understood the implications of course. The bastard was telling him that he hadn’t been raised right. And that was a very quick way to find Akutsu trying to figure out how best to rip your spine out of your body. Because, as shitty as his home life had been, his mom had always tried very hard for him, for them both. And he wouldn’t let anyone, not anyone say shit about her. Not even hidden in an implication like that. No…it wasn’t his mom’s fault he was like this. He was just a bad son. Still, he didn’t let it get to him. It had just been a saying. Not a real insult.
He pulled the cigarette from his lips and preceded to put it out using his own palm. The sound of sizzling and the pain was enough to keep him from doing anything too violent. “Fuck no.” He finally stated. “There ain’t a bar of soap big enough for a bastard like me.” He was surprised when a smoke flew his way, he caught it, unconsciously. Caught it and stared at it as if it was going to bite him. He found himself tucking it away among his own smokes.
“You do that.” He stated. And as an afterthought of his own, the punk threw out something. Something that wasn’t a smoke but equally important. “Oi…bastard…name’s Akutsu…and you better fucking remember it.” The other was going in the direction of the school and now he was certain the brunette was a student. Surely, he’d run into the other again. Maybe when he did, he’d return the favor with a rolled smoke…if he wasn’t still pissed off.