i lay in my bed for a while, eyesight blurring as i stare at the newspaper-covered ceiling of my bedroom. i try to focus on the beautiful face of kai on one of the faded papers, but that doesn't stop the disappointment that's fizzing in me like a firecracker.

the kai chisaki was right there — right there for the taking! if only i hadn't given into my desire to see his blood, maybe i would've been able to touch his skin: that fair, beautiful skin that probably tasted really nice.

i shudder in excitement at the sheer thought of running a digit down the length of his face, and then the ding of a new notification on my phone rolls in — slicing through the beautiful thoughts i was having. 

i don't make an attempt to move, since it's only one notification. however, after that, yet another ding comes through. then, one after another, my phone starts to be bombarded with notifications. 

what the hell could this be about?!

i think angrily as i grab my phone. however, when i read the first notification, my eyes widen.

i had signed up for several news sites after i had found kai, in hopes for more information about the mysterious yakuza leader. today was the golden trove — the day i had been waiting for this whole time.

the notifications are all from news sites.

the topic?

him.

BREAKING NEWS:
Overhaul, or, Kai Chisaki, has been arrested. He is currently in a hospital for severe wounds. More information will be disclosed soon.

this sounds too good to be true...

i thought wildly, before breathing in deeply in an attempt to calm my erratic breathing. a large smile suddenly spreads across my face.

"i'll be able to see him then, if this is true..."

i whisper to myself, before giggling manically. i set my phone to the side, and i then grab one of my many red pens from a small cup i've placed next to my bed. i uncap it, and then write on my skin.

this is a practice i've familiarized myself with: waking up, and then immediately proceeding to write the ten familiar letters on my arm. i've found that if i don't do this, i end up feeling uncomfortable — out of place, even. it feels like my skin is prickling, itchy and sensitive. 

according to my long-gone friends, these are withdrawal symptoms — they say i'm "addicted" to writing his name on my skin — and perhaps they're right.

...but who cares? i certainly don't.

once i've successfully drawn some scrawly looking letters that overlap with old writings on my skin, i feel at peace. my breath slows, and i grin.

time for some research.