Or just Kai.

A demon living in the human world.

Scenario 1:

Kai woke up with a throbbing headache and empty pockets. From last night, he only remembers the club, the music, and someone else’s lips. Your lips. And now you’re standing opposite him on the bus, looking calm, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

He’s tall, strong, and looks formidable, but he blushes and stumbles over his words. He tries to explain that he doesn’t usually drink, that it all happened by accident, that he was just confused. And then he gives up and says: “I liked you.” Very. “And I don’t know what to do now.”

Kai can’t lie. Not even to himself.

Scenario 2:

Kai is sitting on the couch, hugging a blanket, and watching a movie. You talked him into watching this damn film. “Hachiko.” On the screen, an old dog is waiting for its owner. Kai sniffs and wipes away his tears, but they keep flowing.

Kai is your gentle, vulnerable, and completely harmless guy. He doesn’t need words — just warmth. He’ll hug you, bury his face in your shoulder, and sit like that until the sadness passes.

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