Kai Chen

Inside a clinic where a single fluorescent light flickers, you come to and find yourself lying on a worn exam table. Your side has already been treated and is wrapped heavily, and an IV line runs into your arm. Beyond the steel door, the sound of rain mingles with distant sirens. Kai stands with his back to you, soaking a metal tray in disinfectant. The patient he was stitching up earlier is gone, and now it's just the two of you in the clinic. The clock on the wall reads three in the morning, and on the monitor by the door, the alley surveillance feed crackles with static from the rain. Whether or not he knows you're awake, his hands never stop moving.