It was easy to ignore. At first, at least.
It was easy to pretend it didn't matter at all. There were certainly other things that did matter: Mokuba's well-being and education, loads and loads of work, including: new projects, technological issues, financial issues, law issues, commercial issues, paperwork and etc without an end. Keeping his company first of firsts was crucial, after all he had been through.
But now that Mokuba was almost graduating from high-school, and his preparations to leave for a prestige college a short time later, and all the hustle-bustle surrounding his brother's usually mostly passive and sluggish persona were making Seto more and more uncomfortable.
He didn't like it one bit. He found himself more and more indulged in feelings he couldn't decipher. Is it some kind of a new syndrome? Parenting crisis, perhaps?
He felt himself straying from his doings into a void without a name or purpose. His eyes were leaving the screen of his lap-top to stare into the distances. His fingers stilled over the keyboard, or the phone, without a purpose, without even trying to remember the next thing to be done.
Then what is it? Is he merely going insane, or is it worse than it, is he suffering from some kind of early dementia? Is a lifestyle consisting of stress, nerves, rage and more stress finally getting to him? Should he get his medical check-up (mostly regarded by him as a nuisance up until now) brought forward before the original date it had been scheduled on?
His eyes scanned the constant restlessness of Domino city on the streets spread like a spider-web far below. People, like colorful dots from the height of his office, zapping chaotically everywhere possible. Cars, like colorful moving beads, flowing on the asphalt roads without notable directions, even when obeying driving rules.
A strange longing, an unexplained craving filled his heart and cramped it hard, and when he realized after long crucifying minutes it wasn't because of his brother's leave, a terrifying idea, a horrible realization came to his mind.
It was because of her.
After several millenniums, they all made it here, in one way or another…But where is she? Would she ever present herself before him in this lifetime? Wasn't it too late already, to hold her again, to have her? He doesn't believe in fate, after all, so should he take matters into his own hands?
# # #
~ Don't let me disappear into oblivion
I am here, even through the weight of countless years
I am the light born from a parhelion
I am the wind of hope to dry away your tears ~
# # #
FAB: I haven't written for my favorite pairing in what seems to be an eternity. So here I go now, for the last time…Enjoy. And of course you are all aware I do not own YGO.
# # #
Where Is My Love?
The day of his medical-tests results announcement was the day of his brother's leave. So the morning found Seto in the doctor's office, where he lost track of the conversation shortly.
"…fine. Everything seems perfectly normal, you have no reason to worry about. And your heart functioning was tested and nothing came up." Seto listened to the doctor with no actual interest. So there was nothing wrong with him, not physically whatsoever. So what were these spasms he's experienced?
The physician must have felt something was still off so he inquired softly "What is bothering you, Kaiba-san?"
Seto swallowed hard, with unease. A silence was kept for another moment, then he confessed "I feel…Well, sort of a pressure in my chest sometimes. It squeezes my heart pretty tight and I feel like it's stopping."
The doctor examined him for a long minute.
"These things are usually signs of stress, which is explainable due to your work." The doctor said, looking him straight in the eye "It is the emotional influence on our physique. Stress can cause different pains and ails all over the body." His eyes came back to the computer screen "I can recommend stress-relieving medications, but most of them have side-effects. Is talking effective for you? I can recommend excellent psycholog-" the doctor must have felt Seto's boring stare so he stopped midsentence "Guess not." He sighed.
"I heard your younger brother is leaving for college. It must be hard for you," the doctor noted gently "Because you are very close to him. What you feel is not different than what any caring parents feel watching their children grow up and eventually leave."
"I was practically a father to him, more than a big-brother," Seto said quietly in a moment of candor "You may think I'm growing a heart here." He added bitterly.
The doctor chuckled "According to your test results, you do have a heart, Kaiba-san, a well functioning one as I've mention before, but it also should be taken care of." He gave a little pause then said "I've known you for a few years, and what might be my only suitable advice for you right now is to maintain your routine as much as possible. And if you could find yourself a new project to work on to distract you it would turn out better than anything."
Seto nodded, mechanically, and made his preparations to leave.
"If you need anything else, Kaiba-san," the doctor said lastly "Feel free to contact me anytime."
# # #
There weren't tears, of course. Short hugs, Mokuba promised to call and text every day and not to cause any trouble (more than necessary anyway), Seto promised not to work too hard (completely useless). They mutually promised to spend Christmas together, and Seto tried not to think about how it was months away.
Finally, he watched his brother with his bags making his way out to the van ordered in advance to take him to the airport, stopping to wave one last time before disappearing: first into the vehicle, later around the corner of the gates of the manor. Mokuba wanted to take a commercial flight instead of using their private jet to not make a fuss over himself right away.
"I don't want to stand out, you know." He said with an unusual serious expression, while they were in a fancy restaurant after his graduation ceremony "I'm not good at the center of attention, anyway."
Seto sighed, and felt frustrated. And lonely. And Old.
The medical check-up was only this morning, and he hadn't done this in years. But he went up the stairs to his home-office. He opened the glassy cupboard with glassy shelves and mirror-back where expensive alcohol was kept. Yet he skipped the bottles filled with honey-like colored liquids, opening a hidden drawer and taking out a lighter and an old pack of cigarettes, not even the priciest. The ones he smoked in his early years. "Early years"! Make him feel even older! Goddamn it, is 30 today's 70?!
He went outside to the balcony. Lighted a cigarette, and took his first inhale in years. It burned his throat and lungs profusely but he suppressed the cough. The next few were more familiar, serving to relax him. Better than any medication the doctor could have prescribed him, so he thought.
What an irony, to give in to such a stupid act. And on the same day of the medical check-up, no less. If Kisara was here, I would never have to…Whoa! What kind of thought is this? If she was here right now. She is nowhere, right? She died long ago, right? She died in his arms thousands of years ago…Wait, in whose arms, again?
Seto closed his eyes and tried to find an order in his thoughts. He must have lost his mind completely, if this kind of ideas were coming to him. What reasoning was behind his dreams of this girl? Behind what seemed to be memories of his most ancient past?
No, not memories. Smoking in his younger days was a memory (and should stay a secret). Being enraged and intimidated and tortured by Gozabouro was a memory. Pushing the bastard out of the window was a memory (a terrifying one, at that). Raising Mokuba and making him study, and taking care of him was a memory. Taking Mokuba to the zoo, or to movies, or to games was a memory. Winning championships was a memory. Firing people indiscriminately was a memory.
Kisara's existence was never proved, on the other hand…Kisara was a dream, an illusion, a hallucination he had in Egypt due to a heat-wave or their brighter sun reflecting on the endless sands or the presence of insane, imbecile, brainwashed people. In no way she was real in any concept.
But a doubt was starting to gnaw at his heart (his well functioning heart, was it?). They were all here, the current era gathered all people from that old, false bedtime story in Egypt. Even the grave robber was present. So…She had to be here too, by the same illogical logic that made this whole story even possible.
But, if it was true, then where was she?
Seto noticed the cigarette was burnt through while he was lost in thoughts. Shall he light another one? No, this one was enough tempting with fate for today. Wait, what fate? He never believed in these things before. Was he really getting old?
But to convince himself completely, he shall give it a quick check, timid resources required. If there's no Kisara, then these memories, these dreams are also false. And if they are false, there's nothing to worry about except going insane, and that's perfectly normal for him. If they are false, he'd ask for this goddamned shrink's number and tell them go to hell with whatever childhood trauma theory they'd make up this time.
# # #
Mokuba called the next morning, and Seto snatched the cell-phone, almost dropping it, surprising himself. He was never sitting on an edge expecting a call.
Mokuba sounded tired after the flight but also excited after a tour he had throughout the college. Apparently he wouldn't be bored there, and his roommate seemed to be a nice guy too.
After the call, Seto tried to occupy himself in stock-related data while awaiting his first meeting. Soon enough his secretary called and said "Nishimura-san is here, Kaiba-san, as you've requested."
"Let him in." he answered shortly, and a few seconds later the PI entered his office.
Nishimura-san was a middle-aged man, with solemn walk and a spark of reliability in his eyes. He also was very confidential with any request Seto ever had. In the past, he helped on numerous occasions concerning lawsuits against Kaiba corp. Most of the times, his information proved to be extremely useful, not to mention nothing escaped his eyes.
"Good morning, Kaiba-san." he said when Seto stood up and they exchanged handshakes. The PI smiled warmly as he took his seat in front of Seto.
"Have you been well?" Seto asked. Usually he was not into an idle chat before getting to business, but the call from Mokuba lightened something in his mood so he felt like going roundabout a little.
The PI hid his surprise and replied "Very well, sir, thank you. In what way can I be useful to you today?"
Seto thought for a moment, about how to reform his weird epiphanies into unsuspicious requests.
Finally, he declared in a calculated tone "I need to find someone."
Nishimura -san took out his tablet, unwrapped it, and made himself more comfortable in his chair.
"Is there any circumstances I need to know about this man?" he inquired calmly.
"…Actually, it is a woman who I'm looking for." Stated Seto dryly.
"Ah…" Nishimura -san said "I see." He tapped on the tablet with secured fingers "What can you tell me about her?"
Seto contemplated his next words. He couldn't explain Kisara was a peasant girl from an unknown village in Egypt. It wouldn't make any sense.
"I can't be specific about her occupation, and her current location is also not certain."
"Then let's start with something certain first, anything that comes to mind." Said Nishimura expectedly.
"Something certain…" rehearsed Seto, "Well…" the silence was getting awkward, and he wondered if this was insanity to try to locate her "Maybe her looks?"
"Ok. How would you describe this woman?" asked the PI.
Seto tried to picture her. Her soft smile, the silver glitter of her white hair in the desert sun, the depth of her blue eyes when looking at him, the agony of death in her last glance, the color draining from her drying lips. He should have said he loved her, should have kissed her while he still could.
"Kaiba-san?" Nishimura's voice brought him back from memory-land and he coughed and said "She was…" beautiful? No, that's not a description that would lead to her locating. He straightened in his place and said "She had unique looks. Pale skin, long white-blue hair, and dark blue eyes." He saw Nishimura-san typing it into his tablet "She was average height, dressed extremely modestly."
The PI reviewed the details and said "OK. Let me ask few questions that might narrow the search. When was the last time you've encountered her?"
Seto put a hand to his forehead trying to figure out what to say. 5000 years ago? Not in this lifespan? In his last memory of Kisara, he had her dying form in his arms, holding her life-abandoned body before a stone with a duel monster beast on it. A very logical answer.
"I don't remember, but it must be many years ago," he managed.
"A childhood acquaintance? Could you guess her age?" asked the PI patiently.
"Well…" Seto said "She is couple of years younger than me." He skipped the denial of her being a childhood friend. They weren't even friends.
"Any criminally-related information? It can be useful for a search in police or military databases."
"No, no…I'm not sure though."
Nishimura-san look seemed pretty skeptical at this point, so Seto felt like he had to supply anything more to explain the situation.
"I know it's not much, but I can tell you this for certain: this woman isn't a celebrity, or a criminal or famous in any way. She had done nothing wrong and is no threat to Kaiba corp. I just have…" he almost regretted the next words, but let them out nonetheless "This uncertain memory of her, and wish to know if she's alright."
"Was she in any kind of danger in the past? An accident?" Nishimura tried to hold into a lead.
Yes, she died. She was abused by my mythological old man and died.
"I don't recall any specifics," lied Seto, trying to shake away unholy thoughts.
"Alright then. I will do my best with this current information. Physical appearance is hard to use in such search, even when it is unique. Modifications can be done and today they are simple and sometimes even inexpensive. I'll try to look for her and keep you updated if anything comes up." The PI stood up again and closed the leather coverlet of his tablet "If you'd remember anything else, please contact me anytime. And of course this would be rather confidential."
Seto watched him leave and realized again the futility of his search for Kisara.
# # #
Two weeks passed before the first set of results from his quest came.
Seto was growing accustomed to having Mokuba away, yet had his heart clench with every life-sign from him. Now-now, what an exaggeration! Is Mokuba on his way to Mars or just studying in a college for young boys and girls from well-respected families all over the country?
Mokuba kept his promise, and called and texted every now and then. Apparently college life was fun; some of the classes were boring of course, but it was no surprise for a math-challenged boy like Mokuba. But according to his stories he was studying together with friends and they helped him. Also he had been to a few parties and even sent some pictures. In most of them he was smiling and having good time with his friends, and one of them was extremely suspicious and showed him hugging a pretty girl, both laughing.
"Tell me you are resting well and taking care of yourself," Mokuba bugged every single time they talked.
Seto was working double hours in spite of his promise because he had nothing better to do and preferred not going back to the empty manor early every evening.
Then the email with the pictures came in.
The PI wrote short summaries attached to each photo. Seto regarded each one of them with long studying glance, searching for the familiar ocean eyes, the familiar smile. But he found none, and the exaltation he had experienced when receiving the message turned into grave disappointment.
He wrote back about his lack of recognition of any of those girls, and tried to convince himself that success right away was not possible with so little information.
And again, while in waiting for more results, he tried his best not to think about Kisara, but somehow she still managed to find her way into his dreams. She never talked to him, but he was just regularly finding her somewhere; sitting in his living room, for example. Or on the chair across him in the office, looking out the glassy walls. In the kitchen, standing near the stove with her back to him, hair cascading, glittering. And several times she was lying next to him in his bed, wearing off-white nightgown, with the saddest expression he could ever imagine her having. And he saw his own hands, tanned than usual, on her shoulders, cupping her face, closing in to a blur…Oh, these dreams were the worst.
When the second email came after a while, he was still hopeful. When it turned out none of them was Kisara, it was like another mood break that had him melancholic, staring outside the windows for almost a week any spare minute he had.
It became a routine (like the doctor advised). Hard work nonstop, few excited moments around news and short talks with Mokuba, hidden anticipation for updates from Nishimura, business meetings, steering committees, more work and restless nights following her shadow.
Kisara…Please tell me where you are. I won't even do anything, I guess. I just need to know you're there, somewhere. Where are you? Won't you come to me, like you've done before? You were the one who found me, weren't you? Who were you to me? I didn't get to know if we were friends, lovers, spouses, after all…I guess you were no more than a servant to me, but I must have seen you as special if I still carry your image in my mind, if I still think about you after an eternity. She just smiled sadly in his mind's eye, and he was trying to reach for her, to touch this pale skin with his contrasted tan arm.
Maybe she'd be completely different in this era. Maybe she looks nothing alike the vision in his dreams. Was it possible?
He couldn't believe he'd ever get to see her again. But he was too bothered to lose this hope, though he'd never admit its importance.
# # #
When three months passed without any progress, one day Nishimura called and said he'd like to come over to discuss the case. Seto knew the PI would want to terminate the search. Over those months, he sent data of 67 women fitting the description, and all of them were disqualified. There was no point in continuing the investigating without further information.
The evening before their meeting Seto felt the familiar tightening in his chest, only much worse. He thought about getting to the hospital but it would only worry Mokuba and have no effect. He took his coat and went outside to his office lobby, where his secretary sat.
Years of hiring young troubling girls then firing them every Monday came to end after hiring Mona. She was an old lady (Yeah, much older than him for a change), but well experienced, well educated, most reliable and had nerves made of steel. Everything she did was accurate. Everything was under control when with her. She raised her glance over her reading-glasses and waited for his instructions. Any other secretary would start talking immediately with no purpose and only annoy him.
"I'm going for a drive, alone." he told her. She smiled gently and said "Of course. Should I wait for your return?"
"No," he said "We're done for today. No meetings are scheduled anyway. Please dismiss the driver for tonight and tomorrow morning."
"Alright," she replied "Have a safe ride."
He nodded and made his way to the elevator. It had been a while since he drove alone. Most of the times the driver would take him anywhere, but driving could be a relaxing experience and he needed to be doing something mechanical to clear his mind.
The first few turns he took were sloppy and one was almost a miss, but he got used to it again soon enough. The tank was full, so he drove mindlessly without setting a destination. After a while he noticed he was approaching the Egyptian gallery where Ishizu worked.
He parked outside and sat unmoving, heart clenching in his chest painfully and irritation boiling in him. What the hell? What am I even doing here? And beyond the rage, his traitorous mind was suggesting asking the priestess about the whereabouts of Kisara.
He could picture her mocking smile, chuckling triumphantly when he came to ask for her help. No! He would not drop to such level as to ever ask for her assistance or for her advice, backed-up by some ugly distasteful necklace!
He started the car again and drove faster and faster to the round highway of Domino. He didn't even planned where to turn, just let the car sail through the mostly empty lanes till the pain in his chest eased a bit and he found a convenience-store opened all night in a gas station. He bought a can of coffee (black), and a new fresh packet of his cigarettes.
He drove farther to one of the observation decks he remembered taking Mokuba to when younger, though in daylight. There, he sat alone and drank his coffee and smoked and lost track of time. The smoke rose and swirled, creating her misty form, her eyes two stars in the unusually bright night-skies. She was sitting up on the rails, looking down on him with those sad eyes without saying a word.
"I've tried, you know," he whispered towards her "But it's you who wouldn't come to me anymore. You belong to the past, after all. I should be sorry for not being able to protect you then."
He sat and mulled over the mystery of her existence, of her venue.
Where is Kisara? Where is my love? Did she sail far across the lands, to a place I can never reach her again? Did she hate me in the end? Or did she looked up to me saw a weak, helpless man who'd be never able to regard her as a person rather than a powerful possession?
The hours ran, and the skies started to brighten over the horizons. When they reached azure-gray shade and her hazy form has long since disappeared from the rails, he finally got up, stashing the cigarettes into his coat.
He drove back home on the still empty roads. Went up the stairs to the third floor, to his bedroom. Passed by Mokuba's empty one, trying to ignore the bitter taste in his mouth (the cigarettes are to blame, maybe).
He took a quick shower, put on clean clothes, grabbed his coat again and headed back to the car.
He's better to thank Nishimura-san for his efforts so far. He's better to forget about her anyway. He's better to commit himself to his work and secretly count the days till Christmas vacation. He's better to sound normal when Mokuba calls, and not like a freaking lunatic losing sleep at night. He's better to throw away the goddamned cigarettes, ne?
# # #
If Mona had noticed his fatigue or a faint smell of smoke, she kept quiet anyway.
She also informed him Nishimura-san was already waiting for him. Seto made for his office, meeting the PI outside. They got inside, and took their respective places, same as on their last meeting.
The PI seemed in an extremely serious mood.
Seto's throat was dry and he cursed himself for his stupid ventures last night.
"I have another collection of photos to show you, Kaiba-san." Nishimura said and handed forward an USB memory stick "I kept this to when I run out of options for a very simple reason." Seto placed the USB into his lap-top.
"All the women in this file are deceased. "
Seto felt a painful pang in his strained heart, and opened the folder.
Long minutes of silence followed. Seto inspected photo after photo, each click for the next one was accompanied with a terrible throb of his heart, a terrible premonition that the next one would be her, dead. Dead in this life like last time. Those women seemed more two-dimensional, more doll-like, because of the knowledge about their passing.
How could he forget the fleeting feel of her dying breath, the withering love and adoration in her final glance before her eyelids gave in to her frozen heart? The fragility of her still form in his arms, the caress of her soft white hair? The scream he felt he couldn't hold anymore, he wouldn't be able to contain…
"She's not there," he heard his mouth mumble through the haze of heartache.
"I see," said the PI casually.
Another silence.
"You see, Kaiba-san, in this business it is wise to know when a lead is going to reveal itself even if no satisfying results came in. Yet it is even wiser to know when to give up. There are people who don't want to be found, who are good in leaving no trace behind to follow. They vanish into thin air, and only luck can create another encounter with them, or their own will."
It was one of the longest speeches Seto had ever heard the man giving. He nodded, halfheartedly, and let out "I see."
The PI apologized, of course. Said he'd list the case in his ongoing ones if anything happen to surface. Then he left, wishing Seto a good day.
# # #
Mona came in soon enough, with a double espresso and the newspapers. Seto let himself a little smile when she placed the cup before him and the papers next to it. She smiled back, without saying anything, and made her retreat.
Seto took a sip from the coffee and eyed his cell-phone. Usually, Mokuba would call by now, but maybe he had an early gym practice and couldn't make it.
He'd call later, surely.
Seto browsed the newspapers lazily, with no actual interest. While flipping pages here and there, a magazine fell from somewhere below and landed inverted on the floor. Seto made his bend for it, feeling his muscles protesting after the sleepless night of their abuse.
He turned the smooth cold booklet over, and inspected the featuring article. Some women's shelter received generous donations and opened a program for acquiring skills for finding jobs for its tenants.
The picture featured women who must have participated in the program. One girl…A white-haired girl on the right side of the photo caught his eyes.
For a moment, he doubted what his eyes showed him. He opened and closed them several times to see if her image would change at once. It didn't.
His heart seemed to break free from the fierce holding pressure and started beating, rapidly.
He tried to remember how to breathe, and succeeded, after some time. His hand shook when he reached for his phone, and he even missed the button in his first attempt. The second was better, and when Mona answered he discovered his voice was hoarse all of a sudden.
She came in immediately, and having one look at him said "Is everything alright, Kaiba-san?"
Her words seemed to hold in an "I know you haven't been sleeping or taking care of yourself lately and now you are on the edge." Without saying it.
He got up and handed her the magazine, pointing to the cover and saying "Is there any way to find out about this place?"
Mona took the magazine from his hands and put on her glasses that she wore on a silver necklace. She scanned the article and to his surprised said "No problem at all."
He must have been taken by complete shock when he let out "How so?"
"Well," Mona said "Our company's charity program makes various donations to several carefully-chosen institutes, foundations and scholarships. This shelter is one of them, chosen particularly because of their high rate of success in restoring women's lives."
"R-really?" asked Seto weakly and slumped back into his seat. He took the coffee cup back and contemplated his next move.
"Could you get me the address?" he inquired finally.
"Of course," replied Mona "I'll give it to you right away."
She went to her stand while Seto took mouthfuls of coffee and tried to no avail calm his wild heart by trying to read anything on his lap-top. The file he opened was a performance graph of the sales department, but it looked more like child's drawing at the moment.
When Mona came back he took a deep breath and regarded her. She held a note with the address and submitted it to his waiting palm. He inspected it and discovered it wasn't so far away. He raised his eyes back at Mona's worry-clouded ones.
"Cancel all today's meetings," he instructed "Move them to some other time. I'd drive by myself, so you can dismiss the driver for today. Tell him to take a day off."
"Are you sure, Kaiba-san?" she asked softly "Is there anything you need help with?"
"No," he said, more patiently the he used to. If it was a younger secretary, she would be scolded by now, but Mona's sincere tone lighted his mood and he added "Don't worry. Everything is perfectly fine. I just need to figure out something."
They walked together to the exit, she stood near her desk while he waited the elevator.
"Drive carefully," she said like the night before "I wish you good luck."
"If anything urgent comes up, call my cell phone." He said. Before entering the elevator he turned around and looked at her. She was already seated preparing to dial and move his scheduled meeting.
He thanked her, making her raise her eyes in wonder. It was the first time in a long while he did.
# # #
Seto threw the magazine on the seat beside him and started the car. He typed the address into the navigation app and drove by the instructions.
His heart was sizzling in his chest as thought it was fried in deep oil. Seto's hands were almost like jelly before entering the car, but once he had grasped the wheel it made him feel a little better.
Mokuba called on the way and Seto answered by the hands-free phone installed in the car.
Mokuba indeed had an early baseball practice, and sounded a bit out of breath.
"Are you on a drive?" he asked, curious and concerned at the same time from the other side of the line.
"Yeah, I have an outdoor meeting." Lied Seto after getting full update about Mokuba's home-run this morning.
"Really? You never had these lately…In years, actually!" said Mokuba in amazement "Are you the one driving, by the way? You sound too distant for someone talking normally on the backseat."
"Yeah, I've been practicing driving again," said Seto with no hint of seriousness in his tone. I've been practicing smoking too, but we don't need to discuss that.
"Is everything alright, nii-sama?" Mokuba sounded really worried "Are you feeling Ok? Has something happened?"
"No, no," said Seto while pressing the brake gradually to slow for a traffic light "Everything is perfectly fine, it's just that I've missed the feeling of driving."
"Have you fired the driver?" asked Mokuba in an earnest tone "You sound somehow strange to me. Do you want me to take few days off and come home for a while?"
"Certainly not, Mokuba!" Seto said quickly, yet with a faint sad smile on his face "You make it sound like I can't manage by myself at all. You should concentrate on your studies, be with your friends, seize the opportunity to have more independence." And likely not be like me as much as possible.
"Is that what you're doing?" asked Mokuba in a low voice.
"I don't know any other way," replied Seto "You know what I mean. Besides, you'd be back soon enough for the holidays, won't you?"
"I guess," Mokuba's voice sounded somehow even more distant, perhaps a gap in cellular reception "Well then. I'd take your advice and be back to class. Please take care of yourself and don't do anything stupid, Ok?"
"You sound like a grandmother, honestly," teased Seto affectingly "I promise. Take care too, Mokuba. Call me later, Ok?"
"Sure, bye!" he exclaimed in more cheerful voice and then came the disconnecting tones. Seto sighed and watched the multimedia screen as the navigation app reloaded back. He wasn't far away, but the traffic was slower at this time. He shouldn't worry Mokuba about his insane attempts at trying to meet with Kisara.
Kisara! The girl on the side of the photo, those distant graceful features…Her long white mane…Was it really her? Wasn't his mind playing tricks on him, again? Was it her or was it his lack of sleep, or his fear she'd be the next in Nishimura's deceased collection, or the leftover of her imagined form sitting on the rails, or the creases of her body on his bed-sheets?
Only one way to find out, I guess. And if it comes to nothing this time, then I'll stop. I'll stop for good. I won't even call the goddamned shrink, I'll just take the day off and come tomorrow with no thoughts of her at all, if she isn't there.
Seto promised this to himself as he looked for free parking spot near the shelter.
# # #
The shelter reminded him of their orphanage, only kept much better and with fewer kids around. Apparently he arrived when morning classes and support-group gatherings were taking place. He was guided to the director's office shortly, and met a middle-aged pleasant lady who failed not to recognize him. Even thought he came unannounced, he was received immediately.
There was no end to the director's excitement; she thanked him at length for the generous donations, pointed around at photos, diplomas, prizes and letters of gratitude. She offered him coffee and when he declined politely, offered an impression-tour around the shelter. When he said his time didn't allow him to take detours, she finally sat back in her chair behind her desk and eyed him inquisitively.
"Then what can we do for you, Kaiba-san?" she asked finally.
His heart started its clench all over again when he took out the magazine and showed her the front page.
"Ah, you read the nice article they did about us the other day. Yes, it increased the donations a little, and we've got more applications on the wait-list than ever…"
"I'm interested to see this girl right here," said Seto, and with an effort pointed on the planar image he thought was Kisara's.
The director observed the picture without any response for a long minute, and Seto almost lost hope and felt a stroke coming by leaps and bounds.
"You see, Kaiba-san," she said ultimately, as by lack of choice, and placed the magazine down "I'd be difficult to comply with your request."
"Why? Is it really difficult to call her for a moment?" his voice seemed to come for faraway distances as he refused to back down.
"I'm sure you can understand, Kaiba-san," she insisted gently "That the women housing here were through a lot. We have drugs or alcohol addictions, isolation from society, young mothers with no families or pregnant teenager girls with nowhere to go and even victims of severe forms of abuse. These women came here for a shelter, to find a safe place from prying into their issues, and we try to create the conditions and the atmosphere and give them tools to resolve those issues as much as possible in order to start a new life, clean and clear of past hindrances, difficulties and mistakes." It seemed like a rehearsed speech, but she managed to sound sincere and caring rather than a money-beggar.
"So I'm indeed truly sorry, and it forces me into a difficult position by refusing, but the girls' benefit is what standing in front of me." It sounded so final that Seto felt his heart tearing from within, artery after vein peeling to rest somewhere in his gut.
She looked him straight in the eyes, and though he understood her point perfectly well, he still couldn't believe this long journey would end in failure.
"Can I do anything else for you, Kaiba-san?" her tone was consoling but decisive.
He considered changing his mind and asking for a tour to get an opportunity to search for her by his own means, but when he looked outside the window and saw a group of teenage mothers-to-be on a stroll outside, he felt he mustn't disturb the fragile peace of the women here. It would be like disturbing a prayer in a temple in screams, like throwing a firecracker onto a stage during a monologue in theatre play, like sawing the branch of a tree-house.
"No…No, I just…" he stuttered, and was amazed he can still talk through the pain in his chest, he said quietly "I understand. I must have been mistaken. I should leave now."
She accompanied him to the lobby, where he thanked her again and managed to find a word of praise for keeping the shelter in great shape and taking care of the girls.
"This is a home to me, just as it is to them," she said warmly "And they are my daughters, each and every one of them. Even the real troublemakers." She turned and called a girl who walked aimlessly through the entrance "Karina! Come here, please."
The said girl looked like she'd better hang herself than do what she was told, but she dragged her feet in their direction and let out somewhat grumpy "Good morning, Mashima-san."
"Please escort this young man to the exit, and then please rejoin your group once more, shall you?" she in a soft tone.
Karina nodded reluctantly, and when she looked at Seto he knew this girl was an addict. And to his surprise, she didn't seem to recognize him.
"This way, please," she said, gesturing with her trembling hand.
The director nodded one last time, and made a retreat towards her office.
Seto trudged gloomily after Karina, when she suddenly stopped on her tracks and eyed him in wonder and interest. Then she asked "So…Are you Hina's brother?"
Seto was so startled by the question that he emitted "No, why?" without much thought.
"Well," Karina said "Hina's my roommate and she said her brother would be visiting soon, and that he's the one who bringing her cigs from time to time and I just wondered…"
When she felt Seto's reprimanding look she immediately switched to defense-mode "It's been really hard, Ok? It's been a whole month now, and it's not a picnic, like, at all!"
She looked extremely disappointed and huffed to herself "Let's just go."
She made few steps turned over to him "Are you coming or not?"
Seto felt the offensive pack of cigarettes smoldering in his pocket.
"Listen…I'll make you a deal," he said in a low tone before he could stop himself.
"What?" Karina eyed him suspiciously.
"Let's find a place no one can hear us, and I'll tell you."
# # #
They strayed aside a bit, into a small orchard where orange trees were growing and was on the farthest side of the buildings.
"What do you have?" asked Karina in hostile tone.
Seto took out the magazine again in one hand, and the pack of cigarettes in the other.
Karina's eyes widened in surprise and wanting.
"I will give you this pack if you answer my question."
"What is it?" said Karina, without taking her eyes off the pack in his other hand.
Seto rolled open the front page, and pointed on the white-haired girl on the side.
"Where is this girl?"
Karina stared at the picture for a moment. Then she stared at the pack of cigarettes, clearly contemplating. And, to his ultimate surprise, she retorted angrily "No way! What do you need from our Kisa-chan? Who are you to ask about her?"
Seto almost dropped everything in his hands. Ki-Kisa-chan?!
"I won't tell you anything." rebelled Karina, her voice quaking and hoarse "Not even for the cigs." She crossed her hands over her chest and closed her eyes ostentatiously.
Seto observed her reaction and as harsh as it seemed, it was pitiful. A long, awkward moment of silence ensued.
"I've just wanted to see…Kisara for a minute. I'm a childhood friend who happened to see her photo. I would have never ever done anything wrong to her." Was Karina listening to his unreliable explanation? Guess not. Time to give up, after all.
"Here," Seto said finally "You can have these. I didn't want to upset you." He handed her the pack "Just don't tell anyone I gave them to you, and don't waste them all at once. Give some to your roommate."
Karina again eyed him suspiciously. Then came closer, like a scared animal, and took the pack from his hands. She studied it for a minute, then looked back at him.
"Are you really a friend of Kisa-chan?" she asked in somewhat unstable voice.
I guess I was more her master than friend, but I've loved her for longer than a millennium.
"Yeah," Seto smiled bitterly, and made his way back to the main path leading outside. From the corner of his eye he saw Karina hiding the pack in her pocket.
"Kisa-chan is the best girl I've ever met," she offered, catching up with him in several seconds.
"Really? It doesn't surprise me at all," said Seto without thinking.
"After all she'd been through," added Karina, clearly feeling she should do her best after receiving the cigarettes.
"What happened to her?" inquired Seto secretly, trying to take a slight advantage from Karina's change of heart.
"A man locked her up in his basement," provided Karina in a barely audible voice "…H-he isolated her, abused her…" Seto felt his insides drowning in acid, and tried to keep his uneasiness concealed to not scare Karina, but she felt silent all of a sudden.
He hoped she would pick the conversation up again, that she would say something, anything, but she kept silent and was deep in thoughts till they came to the gates. Would it be alright to try to extract anything more out of her? Guess not. She looks anxious and confused as it is already.
"Take care of yourself," said Seto heavily, and made his way outside. Karina still stood and stared at him. Then, she ran and held into the painted bars of the gate.
"Kisa-chan left already, you know!" she called after him.
He turned around abruptly, and walked back. He examined her sternly, noticing her big grey eyes, the slight blush on her cheeks, the way her hands trembled while holding into the metal for the first time.
"When?" he asked, impatiently, urgently.
"Today," she said "Kisa-chan was discharged this morning."
"Did she say where she's going?" inquired Seto.
Karina shook her head sadly.
Seto looked at her one last time, then turned around and made his way to his car.
Karina continued to watch after him for a long time more.
# # #
Left? But where? Where are you, Kisara? I feel like you are running away from me. Disappearing on purpose every time I feel I'm getting close. Do you really hate me after what has happened?
Seto removed the hand from his face, and started the car mindlessly. He sat for a long minute, staring into the blanks, without having the slightest idea where to go from there. I guess I can still take the day off. Rest it and forget, like I've promised. She clearly was through a lot and wouldn't want to see me.
The very thought of Kisara, his Kisara, going through an isolation and abuse fractured something in his mind. He expected to find blinding rage as at the previous time, but instead he found only a tormenting worry for her well-being.
He took a deep breath, and engaged the drive gear. He decided to drive the long way home, try to calm down his nerves. He was almost sorry he gave the cigarettes away. Opening the window, he watched the ocean resting to his side, its waters blue-green-serene.
Wouldn't it be nice to watch the endless oceanic horizons? To feel the caress of noon's breeze? For no more than a moment, thought Seto as he parked by the road-side, and went outside once more.
It was definitely a pleasant feeling, and the air was great, so different from the Domino's smoke and soot. And most importantly, since it was the late morning of a working day, he was completely alone save a fisherman on the far side of beach boardwalk an old lady practicing yoga on a mat down on the shore. When he toured farther, he saw the railing of the promenade, and thought about resting there for a while, trying to dispose of all the heavy, burning thoughts clouding his mind.
He got closer and viewed the shining clean sands, the line of sparkling fresh sea-shells, resting down on the shore. Against his will, it reminded him of Egypt; the Nile bank, the swaying reed, Kisara's pale feet on the sand, her hand in his…
He sighed heavily, shaking his head. Gods in heaven! Will I ever be able to forget about her?
And then something came into his sight from the right.
Firstly, he saw a gray suitcase with a raised handle, hosting another small bag on top of it. Ahead of it stood a girl…He didn't see her face but her white, long hair was blowing around her like a veil.
He blinked several times, no knowing if she'd disappear into thin air.
The girl wore a dark blue long skirt and a white short blouse. And her sight made the air in Seto lungs escape and his heart gave new-found, painful beatings. He was so astonished he couldn't move at all for the first few minutes. The familiarity made watching her unbearable.
At long last he was able to detach his feet, one at a time, to take his steps towards her. She still didn't notice him, transfixed on the beauty of the ocean. On his way to her he tried to make out her features, prayed for her to be real and not another delusional imagery.
He didn't even know what to say. Hey there? Long time no see? Hisashiburi-desu ne, Kisara? Where the hell have you been, for so long?
When he reached her side, he held into the railing and stared at her, unable to find his voice. Finally, a slim, pale and scarred wrist reached out to remove the hair from her face as she turned to him, sensing his presence. When he witnessed those unforgettable blue shining eyes, he felt a breath hitching in his throat, a most genuine smile creeping to his face, and slight moisture in his eyes (it's the salty waters, right?). There was no mistake.
Kisara…
She smiled lightly too, in a mix of disbelief and acceptance.
"Are…Are you…?" she tried to ask, and her voice made his heart expand and his ears hum with the murmur of the waves.
"It's me, Kisara," he replied in a low and somewhat hoarse tone, reliant, excited to no end but at ease all at once.
She came closer, took her place by his side, watching the ocean together, her shoulder almost touching his forearm. For a long moment neither said anything, when she eventually admitted "I'm so glad to meet you again, Seto-sama."
Their eyes met, for the second time. He saw a lone tear crossing the way from her blue iris to her upper lip. He noticed she had a tiny scar over her cheek-bone, under her eye.
He couldn't take it anymore; he reached for her, from a distance of many ages but a mere few centimeters, and had her in his arms for the first time in this lifetime. The definite fragility of her body (she is too thin, he noticed) the welcomed softness of it nonetheless, the well-known position of his arms around her waist and on her back, her head resting on his chest, the silvery glitter of her hair, the smell…
"You're here now," he whispered almost holily, trying to reassure himself more than her at the moment "You are here, you are here with me again, Kisara."
She nodded, startling when he placed a gentle hand on the back of her head. He wanted to regard this, but at the moment he felt he didn't have the time, the right, the ability.
He was sure she could hear his thumping heartbeats, and he held her tighter to never let her slip away from him again.
"I've waited for a really long time, you know." He mentioned after a while.
"Me too, Seto-sama. When everything seemed hopeless, I still had a dream, a memory of you." Her words crossed his chest, ringed his heart, got caught in his soul.
A long time passed like this, holding into each other; idle and rush, tide and ebb, rise and fall, cold breeze and hot breath. Together, alive, real.
"Let's go home, Kisara," he put his hands on her shoulders, aligning her to meet blue with tearing blue. She nodded once, unable to speak.
# # #
They walked the way back to the car, her hand in his, his other one rolling her trunk after them.
She sat beside him this time, body and spirit, not a shady photo of a ghost on the cover of a magazine.
She fell asleep on the way home, and as he navigated the car into a smooth sail on the highway, he glanced at her every once in a while, making sure she was still there.
He carried her sleeping form on the way to the doors of the mansion, ignoring the bothering feeling he'd done this before. Of course, he must have carried her like this to his Egyptian palace in their other life. He watched her in her sleep after gently placing her on the couch in the living room on the first floor, spotting scars marring her skin here and there. That's also matching the past, isn't it? She was beaten and abused back in Egypt, badly hurt.
A terrifying idea, a horrible realization made their way to his mind. It seemed too good to be true right now, too similar to what has already happened. It froze his heart.
Is it possible I'd lose her again? He mused anxiously.
This time she would not take a step outside my sight, he promised to himself, watching her sternly. Just in case. Finding her seems to be the easy part as of now. Keeping her, on the other hand…
He kneeled beside her and took one of her wrists, examining it closely. Still no rage arose, but a sickening solicitude.
She's here, she's here, she's here was all he could think about, bringing the defaced skin over to his lips.
She's here to stay with me forever…Right?
# # #
A/N: This is the first part of a 3shot (I sure get my hopes high, ne?) I plan to write, featuring the miraculous discover of Kisara. This is my favorite pairing in YGO so I've tried my best to describe Seto's feelings over missing Kisara and wishing to be reunited with her in the current timeline.
I'm not doing my best in writing lately (probably never had, huh), and English has been rude to me, words seem to hide from me and I seem to wait hours for them to come. So if you have any comment or correction, feel free to tell me. Anyways, thank you for reading so far.
In the next part we'd explore the lives of Seto and Kisara soon after her arrival. Stay tuned in, and take care!