It takes an actual effort to not stretch his fingers and scratch at Sora's throat with his nails, but Kaito finds it somewhere. The gut instinct that lashed out before he'd even thought to want to contain it was over with, but having missed the chance to make a kill, it's easier hold his seething anger back behind teeth and eyes. To focus on the fact that Sora's elbow on his chest on the weight behind it was going to fucking bruise, asshole. Kaito doesn't let his hand go limp in Sora's grip, but he doesn't push further either. His left hand drops the cigarette he'd somehow held onto over the edge of the bed. If it caught fire and sent them both up at this point Kaito didn't much care.

"What's this?" Kaito finally gets out, not quite keeping the rough anger out of his voice, but it's a few thousand notches below what he'd felt an instant ago. "Switching teams just for a new game?"