Cigarettes
Swallowing the first cloud of smoke and airbourne cancer held in his mouth, Dan doubled over, clutching at his sides as though he thought he could squeeze the breath back out again. The smoke crept up the back of his nose, stung his nostrils, his eyes, his throat, and he spat out the cigarette with a choking cough.
It wasn't worth it, he decided, his throat still tight and straining. There were parts of his senpai's persona that Dan could never have, or even emulate, and even a breath of burning tar made him gag.
… before he could even straighten up, nicotine-stained fingers grasped his chin, tugging him upward.
Dan fought.
He couldn't breathe.
Chapped lips pressed against his, parting as Dan let out a desperate cry for oxygen, and firm hands pushed him against the wall, trapping him. A cool breath of air rushed into his mouth, the sensation unbearable, sending him weak at the knees.
He could feel thin tendrils of smoke curling at the roof of his mouth.
As soon as the attack had begun, it ended. Dan was released to stumble onto his knees, choking on smoke as soon as he inhaled again. Through tear-filled eyes he could just make out Akutsu, like cigarette ash himself, washed-out gray and intoxicating, standing over him.
"Keep the fuck away from my cigarettes, Taichi," he murmured, hoarsely, turning on his heel. "Smoking's bad for your fucking health."
Dan didn't know if it was a warning or a threat.