Raidou didn't sigh. "Oh goody," he muttered, and glanced at the door again. The grating was still open, letting distant sounds bleed through. The fight seemed to be dying down. Taka definitely wasn't getting up yet--which was a shame, because Raidou had certain plans to kick him again--and there were still at least five living clones. They'd probably won.

All the time in the world to take his shirt off, then.

Damn.

He reached for his armour buckles, unlatching them slowly, and said: "They gave you camera shoes? That's really kind of special. Still, you should probably be grateful they aren't neon. Your shirt's close enough." He twisted up a grin, flicking a glance at the sheer blue material laminated to Kaito's upper body. "I especially like the pearly buttons. Very fetching."

With a grunt he dropped his armour and mask carefully to one side, bracing them against his leg, and reached for the hem of his ANBU turtleneck. Only someone paying very close attention would have seen the momentary hesitation.

But there wasn't much choice between battered pride and possibly bleeding to death.

Raidou gritted his teeth, stripped his shirt up, and angled himself so that Kaito could see nothing but his back. "But they didn't send you out in ruffles," he continued, crossing his arms stiffly over his chest. His shirt draped limply over one arm, staining his skin red. "They did that to a buddy of mine once. Bright pink ruffles. I almost hurt myself laughing."