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After learning some of the truth from Annan, Dmitry seemed lost in thought.
He slumped into the sofa seat, like a pearl lava cake sliced open, slowly collapsing in on itself.
"So it was like this..."
He murmured to himself in realization, "No wonder..."
Clearly, he had finally untangled some of his past confusions.
The information Annan had given him was like a key piece of the puzzle—only after picking up this piece did Dmitry realize that the picture he had put together before was altogether wrong.
"...I'm sorry, Annan."
Dmitry said softly, "I need to smoke."
He took a new cigar from the case on his chest, cut off the end with a guillotine-like cigar cutter, very carefully lit it with a match, took a slow drag, and then exhaled deeply.
Mixed with fatigue, regret, sadness, and reminiscence... the murky air that had clouded his chest also dispersed with the smoke throughout the room.
Drawing a deep breath, indescribable complex emotions overflowed from Dmitry's heart.