Kai didn’t know if he was more furious with himself or with Kirin. He’d been way too harsh, he knew, yet what Kirin was saying just didn’t make sense. It was crazy talk; completely manic.
His black mood had gotten him a slap upside the head when he had all but ripped off his tartan skirt-wrap, sending a safety pin flying. The torn tights with red lace patches, he still wore; simply tugging his slashed jeans over them. He’d been more sedate in discarding the “Punk iz dead” shirt, handing it to Sasaki, and squirming into his black sweater. “I’m going for a smoke,” he’d informed her, snatching up his pack and lighter, and making a getaway before she could lay hands on him.
His search for a place to smoke and be alone had led him down to the basement parking lot of the massive office block b
