Title: Bad Habit
Category: Digimon
Rating: T
Pairing: Ami/Arata
Summary: Smoke lives in their intertwining their stories. Arata cannot stand people who smoke because that is how he lost his family expect for his little sister. Ami smokes twice a year to get past the traumatic memories that almost took her life. She's not proud of it but it's the only way she can cope. Can they find solace after so many years?
Disclaimer: I do not owe the rights to the Digimon franchise. I also do not support underage smoking but it is mentioned in the story. Please do remember that this is a work of fiction.
Please enjoy the story and let me know what you think about it.
~~Story Begins~~
Prologue - Haunting Fire
He couldn't breath. It was just a nightmare. That was the only explanation his mind had for not being able to breathe. He was in a nightmare where he was being chased by shadows of fires dancing on the walls. He could hear the crackles of the fire getting closer. He had to wake up now or it was going to be too late.
It was a yell that woke him up. A yell from a female he didn't know, her voice roared through the sounds of the crackling, dancing fire causing him to jolt upright into a scene that was worse than his nightmare.
He could hear the fire coming closer to his room, his black matted hair that reached his shoulders was sticking to his sweat covered face as his black eyes grew in size at the grey smoke crawling its ways under his door. He crawled out of bed and ran to the door opening it. He let out a startled yelp as fire was climbing up the stairs, destroying every little memory of those stairs.
He vaguely heard the yells, cries, and screams of terror and pain as the crackling fire grew closer to his trembling form. His firefighter pajamas wasn't scaring the fire away as it danced closer to the frozen boy.
A cry startled him and he looked at the door across the hall and away from the fire. Than, the boy felt his body remember how to move and ran to the door opening it and shutting it. He knows it's pointless, but it will bide him a little bit more time. He hopes at least. He stood on the kid's step stool to peer over a pink baby crib where a young infant girl with a head full of black hair and wide grey eyes were staring at him as she calmed down.
Next thing the boy remembers is sitting outside watching firefighters try to drown the angry flames which had destroyed its home in rage. The flames were finally extinguished five hours later, but they had already extinguished his family's life, save for the two young survivors.
He closed his eyes, hoping that this was a dream. A very bad nightmare. There was a call on the radio, the young boy overheard. A car crashed into a tree and went up in flames.
Tires skidded to a halt as a mid-thirties young man tried to control his vehicle. His red hair looked ragged from staying up all night as his blue eyes watched the tree come closer. He had zero chance of escaping his fiery doom as soon as the car hit the tree but he was in a small town. A small town that knew him and loved him deeply. They rushed to pull him out of the fiery vehicle while others called for medical assistance.
Thirty minutes later, the fire was extinguished, but the vehicle was nothing more but framework.
During those precious thirty minutes, the hospital in the small town tried to save the man. The continuous beeping sound was music to their ears, the beat of a drum, until the beat picked up in speed before -
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The scent of smoke woke up a nine year old girl whose red hair covered the hospital pillow, her blue eyes were dull, glazed over with pain and fever as her skin was drowned of any color. She turned her head to stare at her visitor.
The smoke covered the shadow figure making it impossible for the girl to gaze upon the figure. A soft, ember glow was the only light she saw as her eyes started to close again, her body demanding her to go to rest.
She saw the glowing ember move up and down as the scent of smoke, nicotine, vanilla, and coffee lulled her back to sleep, unaware of all the chaos going on during this night.