[ shoulders rising and falling in a casual shrug, he finally taps a cigarette from the pack on the table and lights up.
his coffee is still too hot, but it's already nearly half empty. he'd swallowed it, mouthful by mouthful, because he'd wanted to be awake to think. it had burned his tongue and his throat, but he hadn't cared. it was Sensei who had conditioned him into that tolerance of pain. ]