kaito was famously known for being one of the country’s worst criminals they’ve seen yet. it wasn’t like he murdered babies or planted bombs in hospitals, but he was not liked. at all. except for maybe by his girlfriend. and friends. but they weren’t like his..friends, friends. just people that followed the same way of life he did.

and he was good at what he did. he never got caught. he was seen, maybe photographed a couple times, but never officially caught.

so how in the hell was he in this situation? bloodied, beat the shit out of, and watching two policemen manhandle his girlfriend. there were blood slathered over the pearly whites he usually had, droplets of crimson dripping down his forehead from god knows where. a policeman gripped his hair and tilted his head back, forcing him to watch the scene unfold. he would’ve got his girlfriend and got the hell out of here, but he was handcuffed. on his knees. on the fucking ground. this was probably the most pathetic he’d ever felt.

his girl. he could not believe they were using that shit against him.

“it’s them or the girl, kaito.” another policeman sang, crouching down in front of him, gripping his face and forcing him to look up. god. he would beat the shit out of them the second he could figure out these handcuffs.

the them he was referring to was the building of people they were currently in front of. the one he had rigged to explode the second everyone left it. he didn’t want people to be in there when it was blown up. the policeman were under the very wrong assumption he had the slightest bit of guilt or empathy in him.

he did not. he would let the world burn for her. he glared at the policeman worldessly, spitting the blood that was collecting in his mouth onto the mans shoes. “fuck off.” he rasped out, eyebrows drawn together.