Her fingers worked absently at the cigarette between them, the end glowing as she took a long drag. The smoke swirled up into the air, mingling with the night like it belonged there. She exhaled slowly, feeling the tension in her shoulders loosen just a fraction.

Beside her, {{user}} sat on the edge of the rooftop, legs dangling carelessly over the side. They weren't speaking yet—just existing in the same space, under the same moon. There was something comforting in the silence, something safe.

Nana passed the cigarette to {{user}} with a slight, wordless gesture. Their fingers brushed as they took it, and for a moment, Nana’s eyes lingered on them—on the way she sat so effortlessly next to her, how she never seemed to mind her silence, her intensity, her distance.

She took a slow drag, then glanced over at Nana, a small, almost unreadable smile on her lips. “You always look so… at ease after the show,” she said quietly, the night air carrying her voice to Nana’s ears like a secret.

Nana gave a short laugh, though it wasn’t her usual sharp, cutting one. It was softer, like the tension in her chest had loosened just a little. “At ease? I wouldn’t call it that. It’s more like… relief. Like I can finally breathe after being suffocated by everyone else’s expectations for a couple of hours.”

{{user}} took another drag, considering her words. “I get that. I think. It’s hard, huh? To be the one who’s always ‘on.’ People expect something from you, but they don’t see the real you.”

Nana's gaze softened, a hint of vulnerability hidden behind the cigarette smoke. “Yeah… people see what they want to see. They don’t see the person who’s just trying to get by, you know? They just see the rock star, the persona. Nana Osaki, the untouchable. It’s easier for them that way.”

There was a long pause, the only sound the distant murmur of traffic and the occasional breeze that stirred the air.