Katou is beginning to realize, for the first time since he got here, that this is, in fact, hell.
His hand worries the empty cigarette pack in his pocket. He’s not sure why he still has this, considering he’s dead and all; and besides, the pack in his pocket when he died had definitely been at least half full. But even though he’s dead, he still wants a smoke, and he still has the pack in his pocket, but it is empty.
This is definitely hell.
The fucking ghouls are laughing at him. He can totally tell, even when they’re faceless, that they think it’s funny. Enn’rao doesn’t even try to hide his amusement. His many faces are all full of smug satisfaction. Kind of like the expression on Kira’s face every time he denied him a smoke, really. Except when he was alive, he could just go pull a knife on some unsuspecting shopkeeper and empty their till as well as their tobacco supply, and he was in business. Or he could pull a knife on Kira, instead, and though that progressed a little differently, he could usually manage to get a smoke at the end, anyway.
Enn’rao may have Kira’s annoying smugness down, but he’s not Kira and Katou knows that pulling a knife on him probably wouldn’t end very well. Not with a cigarette, certainly.
Then again… “You’re saying all I have to do is knock him off for you, and you’ll get me out of this damn hole?”
“That’s right. What about it, human?”
Kato considers it. A one-way ticket to heaven. He never particularly wanted to go there. Just like he could have cared less about going to hell, until he ended up here. But hell isn’t fire and brimstone. Fire and brimstone he could manage. Hell is nicotine withdrawal and an empty pack of cigarettes in his pocket.
Maybe there are cigarettes in heaven. He sighs and resigns himself. “Yeah, whatever.”