"You'd be amazed," Kaito murmured unhappily, "what people will sacrifice when they want something bad enough." He had been. Constantly.

The bottom two buttons slid free easily. The third and fourth were a bit slower, but not because of the buttons. Kaito glanced at Raidou, marking the path of his eyes, and debated. Full frontal or turn his back? Neither seemed like a great option.

With his shirt hanging open, he turned and pulled his ANBU uniform out of the tree again, edging around the side of the trunk--still in view, but only just--and finally shrugging out of his clothes. The kai was working, Raidou had basically just given him a speech on how non-attractive he was, and there really wasn't any reason he was going to get attacked.

He glanced down at his bare chest and frowned. Aside from the bruises, surely he didn't really look like a teenage boy. He was eighteen! Plenty old enough for--well, old enough, anyway. He yanked his blacks on, unsealed the scroll that kept his armor compact and hidden, and shoved the frou-frou clothes into a cloth bag. He buckled his armor on and slung the bag over one shoulder, stepping out from behind the trunk.

"Y'know," he said, pulling his mask on. "The rumor is that if you're good enough in ANBU, it doesn't matter if you hurt your teammates. Long as you're still more useful than problem causing." Not that he was going to, but it was a point to be made. No matter what Raidou said about jail time and terminal blades. He wasn't overreacting.