( o n e ) [ Bad habits are easy to pick up, and hard to put down. That's what his mother had said, tossing his pack of Luckies on his bed all those years ago. He hadn't quit, because he was young and stupid and convinced the nicotine helped calm him down. Helped keep a distance between who he was and who he needed to appear to be when standing beside Koushi and Daichi, trying to rebuild the Karasuno name. To have it mean something. Asahi doesn't like hurting people, but he knows how to make it look like he does.
The cigarettes are probably killing him, but he's willing to bet that won't matter in the long run. ]
( t w o ) [ The real problem with the gang lifestyle isn't all the blood that ends up on your hands-- and there is a bit, whether it ends up there directly or indirectly. In reality, it's all the blood that ends up on your clothes. Bright red on white that fades to rust, and eventually, just a pitiful lackluster brown, like a reminder that everyone eventually returns to the dirt. Its why they tend to dress down when they think there will be trouble; leaving the pressed white shirts and waist coats at home for things more easily thrown away.
Pulling at his shirt in the quiet of the back room, Asahi thinks he might actually have to burn it. There's too much blood spatter for it to go unnoticed should someone go looking through his trash. A shame, given that it was a gift... ]
( t h r e e ) [ For all the fingers that Karasuno has in various pies, there's a lot of down time to be accounted for. A lot of it. Some members handle it better than others. Asahi enjoys these peaceful times (probably because he thinks of them as such) when they can just be regular people. The threat of being tailed or targeted is always present, in this life it's inescapable, but he enjoys the simple things. Running errands, perusing the market, picking up flowers. ]
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[ Bad habits are easy to pick up, and hard to put down. That's what his mother had said, tossing his pack of Luckies on his bed all those years ago. He hadn't quit, because he was young and stupid and convinced the nicotine helped calm him down. Helped keep a distance between who he was and who he needed to appear to be when standing beside Koushi and Daichi, trying to rebuild the Karasuno name. To have it mean something. Asahi doesn't like hurting people, but he knows how to make it look like he does.
The cigarettes are probably killing him, but he's willing to bet that won't matter in the long run. ]
( t w o )
[ The real problem with the gang lifestyle isn't all the blood that ends up on your hands-- and there is a bit, whether it ends up there directly or indirectly. In reality, it's all the blood that ends up on your clothes. Bright red on white that fades to rust, and eventually, just a pitiful lackluster brown, like a reminder that everyone eventually returns to the dirt. Its why they tend to dress down when they think there will be trouble; leaving the pressed white shirts and waist coats at home for things more easily thrown away.
Pulling at his shirt in the quiet of the back room, Asahi thinks he might actually have to burn it. There's too much blood spatter for it to go unnoticed should someone go looking through his trash. A shame, given that it was a gift... ]
( t h r e e )
[ For all the fingers that Karasuno has in various pies, there's a lot of down time to be accounted for. A lot of it. Some members handle it better than others. Asahi enjoys these peaceful times (probably because he thinks of them as such) when they can just be regular people. The threat of being tailed or targeted is always present, in this life it's inescapable, but he enjoys the simple things. Running errands, perusing the market, picking up flowers. ]