Incoming Doom

ch.25

The next day dawned with the sun painting the sky in hues of gold and pink. Kai, however, woke up later than the rest, his exhaustion evident in the heavy lines under his eyes. The others exchanged questioning glances as he entered the common area.

"Morning, Kai. You're up late," Jay commented with a friendly smile, attempting to ease into conversation.

Kai, still worn out from the restless night, shot them a glare. "Leave me alone, okay?" His tone was sharper than intended, and the room fell into an uncomfortable silence.

Nya, concerned, approached cautiously. "Is everything alright, Kai?"

"Just drop it," Kai snapped, frustration lacing his words. He felt a knot tightening in his chest, a mix of fatigue and the weight of unspoken emotions.

Zane, sensing the tension, tried to diffuse it. "Kai, we're just worried about you. If something's bothering you, we're here to help."

"Help?" Kai's retort came out more harshly than he intended. "You all tried helping yesterday, and it only made things worse. Just leave me alone, alright?" He turned away, avoiding their concerned gazes.

The room remained in an uneasy quiet as Kai retreated to a corner, grappling with the fatigue that clung to him. His teammates exchanged uncertain glances, unsure of how to navigate the delicate balance between support and giving him the space he seemingly needed.

As Kai sank into his own thoughts, the air in the room hung heavy with unspoken tension, the sunrise outside casting a warm glow that seemed at odds with the frayed atmosphere within.

Kai, isolated in his corner, felt a storm of conflicting emotions swirling within him. The lack of sleep had left him irritable and on edge, each glance from his concerned teammates intensifying the irritation that gnawed at him. The fatigue, coupled with the residual effects of the nightmares, made every attempt at conversation feel like an intrusion into a space he wasn't ready to share.

His mind, still haunted by the echoes of the night before, craved a sense of control. The urge for another cigarette, a familiar vice that had offered momentary relief, tugged at him. The idea of retreating into the quiet comfort of smoke felt tempting, a brief escape from the suffocating concern that surrounded him.

Nya, sensing the growing tension, cautiously approached Kai. "Kai, we just want to help. If you need anything—"

"I don't need anything!" Kai snapped, his frustration boiling over. He rubbed his temples as if trying to massage away the weariness that clung to him. "Just let me be, okay?"

The room remained silent, the weight of Kai's words hanging in the air. He could feel the gaze of his teammates, a mix of worry and confusion, but at that moment, he couldn't bring himself to care. The need for solitude, for a moment of respite, overwhelmed any desire for connection.

As he stood there, the internal battle raging within him, Kai couldn't shake the craving for a cigarette, a small rebellion against the helplessness that threatened to engulf him. The room felt too bright, too crowded, and the yearning for something to dull the sharp edges of reality grew stronger with every passing moment.

Kai pulled out his communicator, fingers tapping impatiently as he sent a message to Neuro.

**Kai:** Where did you get those cigarettes yesterday?

A moment passed before Neuro's response came through.

**Neuro:** Just a shop nearby. Why?

**Kai:** I need some. Where exactly?

**Neuro:** Kai, I'm not sure it's a good idea.

**Kai:** It's that or I'm heading out for a drink, like I used to.

There was a pause in the conversation, the tension palpable even through the digital exchange. Neuro hesitated, knowing the potential consequences of feeding Kai's habit, yet understanding the struggle he was going through.

**Neuro:** Fine, there's a convenience store a few blocks away. But promise me you won't overdo it.

**Kai:** No promises.

The messages hung in the air, a silent agreement tainted with the acknowledgment of Kai's coping mechanisms. Neuro, though hesitant, recognized that sometimes the choices offered were the lesser of two perceived evils. The digital conversation left an unsaid understanding lingering, a compromise born from a shared history and a desire to ease the turmoil Kai found himself entangled in.

Kai entered the dimly lit convenience store Neuro had mentioned, the neon lights casting an artificial glow over the array of cigarettes neatly arranged behind the counter. He scanned the options, his eyes flickering between the different packs as he fidgeted, each moment of indecision punctuated by flashes of the torment he had endured with the Time Twins.

The memories surfaced uninvited, a relentless tide that threatened to pull him back into the darkness of his nightmares. He shook his head, as if physically dispelling the haunting images, and continued his search for a pack that felt less conspicuous.

The receptionist behind the counter, a woman with a worn expression and a demeanor that suggested she wasn't one to question her customers, gave Kai a few questioning looks. She observed his restlessness but chose not to voice any inquiries. In a place like this, legality seemed like a flexible concept, and she had learned not to pry into the personal affairs of those who entered her establishment.

Kai finally settled on a pack, choosing one with a design that seemed less likely to draw attention. The act of purchasing the cigarettes brought a mix of relief and guilt. The tactile sensation of the pack in his hands became a grounding force, a tangible reminder that he had a choice—even if that choice was fraught with its own set of complications.

As he left the store, the neon lights casting long shadows on the pavement, Kai felt the weight of the pack in his pocket. It was a small rebellion against the memories that lingered, a way to regain a semblance of control. The receptionist's unspoken acknowledgment echoed in his thoughts, a shared understanding in the unspoken transactions of coping and survival.

Kai arrived home, the distant neon glow of the convenience store fading behind him. A sense of secrecy gripped him as he made his way to his room, swiftly locking the door before the others could catch wind of his return. He approached the window, the night air carrying the muted sounds of the city.

With a deep breath, Kai pulled out the pack of cigarettes, the crinkling plastic echoing in the quiet room. He fiddled with one, the internal debate about whether he genuinely wanted to go down this path again playing out in his mind. Annoyance at himself mingled with the undeniable pull of the past few weeks, the haunting memories that refused to loosen their grip.

Finally deciding, he placed the cigarette in his mouth. Flicking his thumb, a controlled burst of fire danced at the tip, casting a warm glow in the dimly lit room. The ember ignited, and Kai inhaled deeply, the familiar sensation mingling with a tinge of regret. The room filled with wisps of smoke as he exhaled, a silent acknowledgment of the complex dance between his need for control and the turbulent emotions that lingered in the shadows of his recent experiences.