Author's Note: Hello to whoever is reading this! I would like to apologize for the messiness of the prologue. I really should have formatted it better before clicking that submit/publish button :,) Anyways, I decided to change the title from "White Lightning" to "Second Chances" because the former was really just a filler title. Who knows, I'm so fickle I might change the title for a third time, however, I really do think "Second Chances" will fit my plans for this story.

Seven years have passed since the prologue.


Monday morning, Kaiba pulled in his car, some expensive model Mokuba recommended, in front of KaibaCorp, got out, and tossed his keys to the valet as he did any workday. He never really had much care in what kind of car he had, as long as it was efficient and sleek. At one point during his teenage years, he wanted the front of his car to be in the resemblance of the blue eyes white dragon, with the headlights as the eyes and everything, but that idea crashed fast due to security reasons. Kaiba was secretly relieved his younger self didn't pull through with that idea, and he already had a jet in the model of his favorite monster, anyways.

During high school, he would have a chauffeur to drive him in a limousine, but long gone were the days he sat in the back. He used to shove in work time on his laptop during car trips between home, school, and KaibaCorp, but during his college commute days, he decided to cease work during car rides in favor of driving himself. Drives gave him a temporary peace before officially starting another work day, and of course, he drove in silence. He didn't care for music or news broadcasts on the radio, he just needed another break in his 7 to 7 job.

After entering the building, Kaiba zeroed in on the elevator, finding himself without the company of anyone else inside. As the doors closed, he caught his reflection staring back at him. Despite dressing quite the part of a handsome businessman in suit and tie, he never really spent much time in front of the mirror. If anything, the most he did spend looking at himself was when he brushed his teeth. He wasn't looking too hot in the mirror sheen of the elevator doors. His dulled blue eyes were heavily accentuated by dark circles, which day by day got darker, probably from all his time in front of the screen, stress, lack of sleep, etc. At this rate, he wouldn't be surprised to wake up one day in his twenties to look like he was in his fifties, not that he really cared. He had no one to impress, nor did he care to have anyone to impress. Alas, according to an online study that surveyed approximately 300 affluent CEOs, their weekly work hours averaged to around 60 hours (not including weekend business calls), and they all admitted to sacrificing sleep for that. He was just another CEO doing his job, a strenuous job that looked easy in the eyes of the public because the job produced him billions.

The ding of his office floor and the elevator doors opening conceded Kaiba's self-reflection. As soon as he stepped out of the elevator, Roland greeted him.

"Good morning, Mr. Kaiba. 7 o'clock sharp as usual," Roland bowed and joined his boss' journey towards his office.

"Of course," Kaiba's normally placid lips furled into his trademark half-smile, never full, but always half for his most loyal employee, which was more than he gave anybody, aside from his little brother. Actually, Roland was more than an employee at this point; He was more like a family friend, always looking out for the Kaiba brothers beyond the business field. He even offered to cook dinner for the two when Mokuba ratted out his older brother's routine of skipping dinner by immediately sleeping after work.

Kaiba, however, had gotten better ever since Mokuba had started cooking dinner for the two. It might have been easier to hire a personal cook, but Kaiba had seen it as a waste for him and the cook since the only meal he'd need to be cooked would be dinner. On weekdays, he had his secretary deliver breakfast and he ate out on his lunch break, and weekend meals were usually doable or also bought for his weekly outside dinners with Mokuba. Personal chefs were only worth it if they cooked a five-course meal each night, and Kaiba's habit of shortly sleeping after dinner made a too-full stomach feel grotesque.

Roland opened Kaiba's office door. Kaiba walked in expecting to smoothly settle into his desk but stopped within three feet of entering.

"Is there something wrong?" Roland closed the door and walked up to his boss.

"What is that?" Kaiba pointed towards his office couch. The couch was usually reserved for important people with elusive appointments, which mostly consisted of assholes in suits with egos parallel to his. The only other person that had ever sat on that couch was Mokuba. On that couch was a figure laying down, and it had been years since Mokuba came around to nap on that couch. Therefore, it sure as hell wasn't his little brother.

The two men cautiously strode over to the seating area to find a person rather comfortably situated on their side. It was a figure of what appeared to be a woman, or maybe a man with slender, hairless legs. They couldn't tell because the upper half of the intruder's body was swallowed by his or her oversized beige hoodie, and his or her face was completely hidden by the tightly strung hood.

"Can they even breathe in that?" Kaiba grimaced, unamused at the sight of this intruder. The figure could have mistakenly been dead if Kaiba hadn't bent over to catch the tiniest motion of his or her chest to indicate life. He sighed, feeling easily aggravated by this unfortunate occurrence. Perhaps this person was important, but the way they dressed said otherwise. He didn't even want to wake the person up and question him or her, and he'd probably end up with more questions than answers, and trivial questions only led to wasted time, and no one was important enough to waste his time.

"Roland, open the door," Kaiba firmly instructed as he rose up, "I'm personally going to dump this idiot in the elevator, and I'm going to enjoy it."

Roland could have suggested a nicer, alternate solution, but he knew opposing an irritated Seto Kaiba in the morning wouldn't fare well. He silently nodded and made way for the office door to be open.

Kaiba lowered himself and slipped his arms underneath the sleeping figure, securing one arm underneath the bend of the person's soft, cold legs and the other underneath their torso. Underneath the mass of the hoodie, he could faintly make out a rather delicate frame simply from his touch. He raised himself, body in arms, which unsurprisingly didn't feel heavy. The position in which he carried the figure would have been a romantic bridal style if not for the corpse-like state of the one being carried. Instead of arms draped around the carrier's neck, her arms flowed down aimlessly, as if she had already passed away. She was a heavy sleeper.

At that point, Kaiba could tell she was definitely female, as her hoodie better outlined what appeared to be breasts. They were invisible in her side sleeping position on the couch but were much more apparent as she was carried by him. For a very brief moment, he felt odd noticing but quickly and firmly assured himself he only did so to confirm her sex.

Kaiba walked swiftly out the door and approached the elevator while Roland followed closely behind.

"This must be what Duke Devlin does every morning," Kaiba jokingly surmised to his right hand man, "dump off unconscious women after another debaucherous night."

Before Roland could even chuckle, the elevator doors sprung open and a flustered public relations manager nearly dropped his plate of coffee cups at the sight of Seto Kaiba bridal carrying his client. Seto Kaiba bridal carrying anyone was strange.

"HOLY SHIT!" were the only words, rather ear-piercing words, that Reo Hamada could sputter at the unsightly display in front him. His dark brown eyes gaped at the couple, and his free hand ran through his wavy flaxen hair. The sound of his shrill screech was enough to elicit a dazed moan from the sleeping woman in Kaiba's arms. Her arms, once spilling past her sides, struck up and her legs propelled up in a dramatic stretching motion. Her sudden movement caused Kaiba to tighten and adjust his hold on the woman, but as soon as she uncovered her head, he began to lose all his strength.

Her eyes were the first feature he noticed. After her fingers loosened her hood strings and released the mask, her eyelids began to flutter. They revealed a beautiful set of light blue eyes, but they weren't beautiful in an admirable way to Kaiba. They were hauntingly alluring, and he could not tear his own eyes away from hers. In his peripheral vision, he caught sight of her snowy white hair flowing freely from the hood. Kaiba felt his heartbeat and his body temperature increase simultaneously, and his arms felt like gelatin. She too appeared flustered at the sight of her carrier, cherry blossom pink graced her pale cheeks. He had no idea why he suddenly felt so weak and nauseated. He refused to believe he was attracted to this woman, this woman that looked so familiar. Felt familiar.

Hamada noticed his boss' weakening strength and shoved his tray of coffee into Roland's hands. As soon as he did, Kaiba tossed the woman into Hamada's arms, who Hamada fortunately was able to support but shrieked in response to be so callously tossed.

"Get out," Kaiba brusquely demanded toward the pair. His looming six foot figure bullied average height Hamada back inside the elevator after Kaiba had pushed the elevator button to open again.

"Oh, but sir!" Hamada exclaimed and his voice sped up underneath the sheer presence of Seto Kaiba, "I've actually got an appointment with you first this morning! You can check with your secretary, and I can totally explain this situation, you see, I escorted her here twenty minutes ago, and you see this woman is my client, and I was getting coffee for her and you, but the coffee machine broke, and then I didn't want to go to another machine because those produce shitty coffee, and everyone knows you don't like your coffee from the machines because it's too watery, so I had to make a run to the KaibaCorp cafe all the way next door, and see while on the topic your cafes-"

"Hamada, shut up!" Kaiba growled, feeling as though he was about to pop a vessel at the incessant ramblings of his employee. "You're fired."

Hamada felt his soul release from his body at the those mere words. He couldn't even argue against his boss because he was so replaceable as the public relations manager of KaibaCorp. It wasn't a job field that Kaiba highly regarded in his business, but the job sure meant everything to Hamada.

"Wait just a second," an insistent voice erupted from the woman in Hamada's arms. He had forgotten about her. "Ah, could you please let me down now? I think I'm getting tired of being held today," she warmly requested and followed with a nervous laugh. After being put down by Hamada, she straightened herself, attempted to brush her hair with her fingers, and then glared toward Kaiba's displeased face.

"Please don't fire Mr. Hamada!" She insisted, "I know he's quite young, and you being the great big tech gee-," she quickly tried to prevent herself from saying geek by wrongly pronouncing "genius" with the hard "g" instead of the soft one. The white haired woman bit her lip as she noticed Kaiba's already thin patience get thinner by her poor speech recovery but quickly continued her point after, "- that you are, you probably don't value his job position, but he's saved your public image in more ways than one!"

"I don't care about my image," Kaiba snickered at her pathetic argument, "Nice try, but I already know several people call me a dick behind my back. Actually, I've had it frequently told to my face as well, and I still don't care."

Kaiba had had enough of this nonsense, so he jabbed the button for the elevator doors to close and walked out the elevator shaft. He motioned Roland to follow him, but the sound of elevator doors opening again caused him to stop in his tracks.

"If you fire Mr. Hamada, then who will you replace him with?" She coolly asked loudly.

"Any idiot paid with a good salary can act as PR manager," Kaiba refused to turn around as he shouted back angrily.

"But Mr. Hamada isn't any idiot. He might be an idiot in your eyes, but he must be a damn good one to cover up most of your nasty personality and paint you as some technological saint. You might not care about how the common public thinks of you, but he's made you appear more approachable and appealing to even "important" people like your shareholders."

Kaiba kept silent, back still facing the girl.

"I've heard it's pretty difficult being head of KaibaCorp's public relations, and it's even more difficult to find someone as passionate and dedicated as Mr. Hamada to constantly save your ass in the eyes of the people, the people who buy your company's products. You can bribe a third rate PR person with fourth rate communication and journalism skills, but you'll find yourself regretting it when they fail to solve your future scandals."

Kaiba could hear the woman run out of breath after she finished her speech. He turned around and crossed his arms. Getting rid of this woman was going to be annoying.

"What's your name?" Kaiba demanded it rather than asked.

The woman's eyes widened as she brushed her hair behind her ears and straightened herself up once again.

"Kisara Amano," she answered softly and her face blushed once more. From her tone and voice, Kaiba closed his eyes and took her to be the same woman that left him stranded at a coffee shop all those years ago. It pained him to actually still remember her and the unexpected embarrassment she had caused, and he could feel his head start to ache. Despite having repressed any thoughts of her that emerged in the subsequent years, all those unpleasant emotions from that initial emotion bubbled in Kaiba's mind.

"From your reaction, I'm guessing you remember me personally," Kaiba snidely remarked, opening his eyes, "You make a good argument for Hamada. I would tell him to take you out sometime, but knowing how you treat your dates, I feel bad. He'd be stood up on top of being still fired."

The impervious CEO walked towards the elevator again. Hamada looked immobile as he stood behind Kisara, feeling his life force fade away the closer Kaiba neared. He should have defended himself instead of Kisara doing so, but being the one targeted made him lose all the courage he had. Normally he was able to smoothly talk with corporate goons similar to Kaiba, but they weren't the ones who paid his salary. Hamada closed his eyes and prayed that once he got fired, he'd at least still get paid for the month. When he opened his eyes, he saw Kisara grabbing Kaiba's hand.

Kaiba reached for the elevator buttons, but Kisara quickly captured his hand with both of hers. As soon as her delicate hands wrapped around his single one, he felt a surge of electricity generate from that simple touch. His eyes slightly widened as hers stared up at his. Hers were still so captivating.

"Please, Mr. Kaiba," Kisara's voice toned down from her previous, louder words but kept the same sincerity, "You admit I gave a good defense on Mr. Hamada, so why are you still insistent on him being fired? I think you're letting personal resentment held against me blind your judgement, and I also think that's quite...unprofessional of you."

"Why, y-you," Kaiba stuttered in the face of Kisara's words. Her hands began to tighten around his hand, increasing his heart rate and making his face feel warm. How could this woman tell him how he treat his employees?

"Mr. Hamada and I have been scheduling this appointment with you weeks beforehand concerning a business venture. Before you decide to fire him, please listen to us first. If you don't like his business proposal, then I guess you have the right to finally fire him for wasted time," Kisara sighed before continuing, "and I'm so very sorry about wasting your time as well, now….and seven years ago. I know there's no way we can just walk over to your office and continue, so can we please reschedule?"

"Fine," He curtly responded, but he still could not bring himself to forgive her for what happened years back. Kaiba took his hand back, freeing himself from Kisara's hold.A part of him was scared at the possibility that her hands had taken notice of his sped pulse, which was ridiculous because her hands held his actual hand, not his wrist where his pulse was. He desperately didn't want her getting suggestive thoughts at his uncontrollable heartbeat.

"S-sir!" Hamada spoke up as he moved up a bit more and bowed, "Thank you for your reconsideration!" He rose and continued, "I'm sorry for wasting your morning! It was my fault for being late with the coffee and thus was unable to explain my business proposal. I know how you value punctuality! I really want to talk with you soon, and since your schedule is probably filled in the coming weeks, may I suggest going out during your lunch break later this week? I will pay! Or maybe meet on the weekend?"

"I like to value my time on the weekends away from idiots like you," Kaiba scowled, "but I'll see to it my secretary notifies you when I'm available for lunch. Your job is on the line, so you better make it worthwhile."

With one last glance at Kisara, Kaiba pressed the elevator button to close the door before exiting and strode toward his office with Roland trailing behind, with the coffee tray Hamada brought.


Kisara felt a lump in her throat as she watched the CEO walk away and the doors eclipse his figure.

"Oh my gosh, I think I'm going to DIE of embarrassment!" Kisara's face was boiling and her cheeks were redder than the faint rose that graced her cheeks when previously in front of Kaiba. Her hands started to cover her face and her words started to jumble, "I can't believe he remembered after all theseyearssrbeuahkewj-"

Hamada stared at the young woman blankly. Just a mere seconds ago, she had been braver than most employees, or even other corporate heads, could ever hope to be in front of the overbearing Seto Kaiba, and here she was now, nearly fainting over in.

"Ms. Amano, if it helps you...you have my deepest thanks," Hamada spoke up, making sure to speak loudly enough to override Kisara's wailing.

Kisara lifted her head and peered sheepishly at Hamada.

"I couldn't let him fire someone as qualified as you, and I really do want our business deal to work out," a faint smile started to form on her lips. She pressed the lobby button, and the elevator transported them downwards.

"Ah, also," Kisara brightly grinned as she started to take off her hoodie, "Thank you for letting me borrow your hoodie. I forget how cold office buildings get to combat the summer heat!" She took off the hoodie, revealing a simple navy blue polka dotted tank top and white shorts, and handed it off to Hamada just before the elevator doors opened at the lobby.

"No problem," Hamada flashed an equally grateful smile toward Kisara as he caught his hoodie. The two walked out the elevator, but he paused shortly and grabbed Kisara's wrist.

"But word of advice, when we go out for that lunch meeting, wear something more serious. Mr. Kaiba isn't as easily lured by, uh, the likes of your current outfit," he nervously glanced at the woman's chest area, hoping she'd realize what he meant. Her tank top was at a decent length, but Kisara's, for lack of better word, larger than average bust size made it appear skimpy.

"Ohh," Kisara caught on and smoothly replied, "I understand." It wasn't the first time she was told to dress into something that appeared more appropriate for her body. She should've known better than to appear in front of some hotshot CEO in a simple tank and shorts. God she felt stupid, probably because her hasty dress choice was stupid.

"It's not that you look bad, in fact I think you look...beautiful," Hamada confessed, feeling his face get hot, "But I'm afraid that would look down on you, and we really need to make better impressions the next time around."

"Then what does Mr. Kaiba prefer?"

"Safest bet is professional clothing, or something elegant," Hamada looked to the side and furrowed his brows, "And I hate to sound shallow, but you looking good for would help greatly with our business proposal. It's relevant."

"You're absolutely right," Kisara agreed, "Gosh, I only dressed like this because it's boiling outside. I'm an actual idiot. I hope I can find something really nice and suitable for summer and your boss. Maybe it's a blessing in disguise we got rescheduled, huh?" She giggled, and Hamada joined in on the laughter. It took her awhile to notice that his hand was still gently embracing her wrist.

"Well," Kisara placed her other hand on his grip before continuing, "I have to leave for work soon, and I assume you have to go back to yours. You still have my number, right? You can text me all the rules I need to follow in order to satisfy thee great and powerful Seto Kaiba." She flashed him that pearlescent smile of hers, transforming his stomach into butterflies. It had been a while since Hamada felt that way.

"Of course," Hamada let go of her wrist and smiled back once again, "I'll contact you about the date, see you!"

She waved goodbye and walked through the spinning doors of KaibaCorp. Hamada returned the wave and proceeded to turn back around into the elevator. It was the start of another work day, and hopefully, not one of the last ones.


Dead and lifeless. She was newly deceased and laid across his arms. A torn, ragged beige dress clothed her expired body. Her face was serene and appeared to have been satisfied with what she had done. Her arms and legs lifelessly spilled over.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

There went the pulsating of his heart and mind, thundering audibly, feeling as though his heart could have leapt from his mouth and onto the very ground where her blood had spilt. It was as if every single beat dedicated itself into waking her up, each beat increasingly getting louder and louder, crying out to the Gods themselves.

And then, she changed.

Her clothes were no longer torn but completed in the form of a hoodie, and she gasped as life had been blessed back inside. Her eyelids popped open and her brilliant baby blue eyes became visible.

And then, she changed back again.

The same woman alternated back and forth and forth and back, each version appearing in smaller psychedelic intervals.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Kaiba's eyes shot wide open as he laid flat against his bed that night, and he felt the wind in his throat get knocked out by an invisible fist. A cold sweat had begun to form on his entire body from his dream.

The same yet different vision. How annoying.

He groaned and slipped underneath his blanket, disregarded his hallucinations, and prayed he'd get enough hours to function for tomorrow's work day.


More Notes: Although Kaiba was 18 during the prologue, he is 24 now. His birthday is October 25th, so the prologue was staged in the later half of the year whereas right now it is staged during late June.

I was hesitant to add the last part to this chapter, and I really hope it's not too fast to dip into the whole Ancient Egypt segment. I will say that even though I've already delved into the Egyptian memories and whatnot, I don't plan on it being a huge factor off the bat.

Thanks for reading!