It's nothing too noticeable at first-a few cigarettes here and there, a singular 12 count pack sitting on Makishima's drawer, sticking out like belligerently to Toudou's eyes as Makishima kisses him, softly and slowly, then all at once. The taste of smoke isn't prominent yet, just a slide of candid bitter to the taste of his sea salt popsicle lingering on his tongue. It's not exactly a pleasant mix, but it's Makishima, so Toudou accepts it.
Makishima starts smoking more.
More and more cigarettes are scattered around his house, and the second time Toudou comes over, he notices an ashtray sitting in Makishima's living room. He doesn't question it.
The cadence of Makishima's pedals are un-affected, still as steady as ever as they chase Toudou up the mountain. There might have been a slight rasp in his habitual call of Jinpachi! but Toudou dismisses that as part of his frivolous imagination.
It's a week later that Makishima smokes in front of him for the first time. They're walking by the street to Toudou's inn and the sky is warm with dappled orange and red, sun following a trajectory route across the sky as usual, as always.
Toudou just finishes describing Shinkai's new rabbit, when Makishima pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, casually putting a stick in his mouth and lighting it with a practiced flick, looking back and smiling at Toudou like nothing happened.
What did you say, Jinpachi?
He's not sure how to equate this, how to turn this into the norm.
Nothing too important. he replies. When they reach his inn and Makishima kisses him goodbye, the bitterness is stronger.
It's come to the point where every time someone even mentions a cigarette, Toudou thoughtlessly crushes whatever he has in his hand and walks away, bereft of balance and void of sense.
It's come to the point that the only thing that Makishima can think about on dates is getting a cigarette from the drugstore on the corner, avoiding Toudou's pleading gaze as he asks for his opinion on the new outfit he had chosen; avoiding his gaze as he accepts a 16 pack from the cashier, ducking his head in shame.
Toudou's insatiable gaze as he tangles his hands in Makishima's hair, slender body entwined in his bedsheets as he holds him close, whispering in his ear I love you, Maki-chan as Makishima bursts out in a fit of coughing.
It's come to the point where they can't race anymore, because halfway up the mountain Makishima has to stop and catch his breath; each wheeze incinerates Toudou's heart.
Toudou hides every cigarette pack he can get his hands on, shoving them in his baggy pockets before Makishima turns around. Makishima's voice has lost its intones, and Toudou can't help but feel that he's lost him already.
He tries to confront Makishima.
It's killing you, Maki-chan. Toudou says, looking at him with sad, sad eyes.
Don't be ridiculous, Toudou. Makishima brusquely replies, waving off a hand in dismissal.
They never have that conversation again.