n1: First NANA fiction ever. Haven't seen the series in forever. more to come? sorry if it's ooc or outright bad.
n2: poll. take. It's legit.
title: seven stars
Kids were always told to never smoke. Smoking could end your life before it even began. The smoke was like a toxin to human lungs; poisoning the air and sapping the life out of their lungs. Choking them until they could breathe no more.
But what if one was already poisoned? Smoking would only quicken the process.
It tore him up to see her cry. Her tears made his heart break into small pieces, each one jagged and ready to slice Yasu's soul into bits. Her eyes, red and puffy, would always crack open to give him that soft look, that look that pleaded for him to not leave her.
Though she'd always beg him to go.
His hands curled around her shaking form and it pained him to see her-his Nana- in such a state. Where was her power, her presence, all the elegance and authority that she was able enforce on anyone, where had that gone? Nana's soft hair was pressed against his chest, her tears staining his suit.
He didn't care.
Moments ticked by and neither she nor he made any motion to break from the embrace. Yasu's hands clung to her, if he left go he might lose her.
She might fall away from him again.
Nana's hands moved towards her pockets, her slender fingers stumbling for a cigarette- for a Seven Stars. Her mind was always on him, always, and no matter what Yasu did, he knew that would never change. He sighed, taking his hands away from her and standing, turning away as he saw the flame dance near her lips.
"You'll kill yourself like this."
He said the same thing, every time Nana broke like this. Each time, he'd get closer and closer to her, only to have the memories pull her back. And each time she'd give him that watery smile of hers and raise the stick to her lips before blowing out a curtain of fruity smoke to mask her tears.
His hands wrapped around the doorknob and Yasu gave a the shaking woman one last look before taking that first step out the door and that second step into the hall.
Where the third was meant to be, he had no clue.