Spinel

He was only partly right, that therapist.

Akane watched the wafting trails of cigarette smoke from where she rested her head on her desk. The smell of them wasn't entirely pleasant, but the existence of that smell was comforting. A crinkled SPINEL carton of cigarettes lay next to her ash tray.

Her holo jellyfish rose up, intoning in its bubbly AI voice, "Second-hand smoke is dangerous to your health!"

It said that all the time, ever since she walked back into her apartment with the half-full carton of cigarettes she found on her former Enforcer's desk. That was the only reason she had known what brand to buy; otherwise it would be like finding a lost nostalgia in the haystack of cigarette brands.

"I know," Akane said glumly, pushing back the chair to stretch out her arms. If someone were to ask her, she didn't entirely know why she had stolen the half-pack of cigarettes in the first place. It was late at night, and Unit 1 had been ordered to clear out Shinya Kougami's desk the next day, to make room for the new Enforcer's. She was just getting ready to go, her bag with the cute bow slung over her shoulder, when the four ashtrays piled on top of each other had caught her attention.

It smelled lonely, she had realized. Although she had complained about it before, Akane realized she missed the smell of the cigarettes at the desk next to hers. So, almost without thinking, she took the abandoned carton next to the stacked ash trays.

But don't get her wrong; she didn't smoke them. But when the flame of her lighter hit the tip of that cigarette, her shoulders had finally eased, and the crease in between her eyes and smoothed out. It was hard to understand why she needed the cigarettes to relax, but it wasn't like that bothered her. She didn't care about why; it worked. That was good enough for her.

From then on, it became an addiction.

Originally, she only lit one per day. Sometimes she would be okay with only half of the cigarette burned away, but after a while Akane noticed that not even a full cigarette would be enough. When she got home, she'd light one. After dinner, she'd light another one. And finally, when she went to bed, she'd light the last one.

For the last two weeks, Akane went to sleep with the smell of Kougami on her sheets. And even though she knew it was silly to imagine, she always pictured him right there with her when she closed her eyes. He'd be slumped against a chair at her bedside, casually blowing the smoke from his cigarette into her face. She could almost hear him sometimes.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't keep my promise."

Sometimes, she'd pretend he was really there and tell him:

"It's okay. I'll keep it for you."