The sharp echo of her heels clicking against the newly polished floor brings her small comfort as the passive-faced, silent officer leads her down the labyrinth of halls that occupy the Police Department. Her reflection shining back up at her through the waxy tiles shows determined eyes, yet the curve of her mouth, and the slight shaking of her hands proves otherwise. She stuffs her bitten-nailed fingers back in her pocket, hands fisting around the possession tucked inside to make sure it's still warm.
She gazes left and right at the rectangles of rusting doors that line the walls; each square, three-barred window passing behind her with an unfamiliar, sullen, grim face hiding beneath its shadows.
The Officer finally halts in front of a tightly locked cell, and she draws a shaky breath.
With a pull of the latch, the bolt unhooks, and the door grinds open with a high- pitched squelch that can only be from the excess metal layers due to extra precaution.
She frowns at this, for how can he be any physical threat when shut up all the way down here? Their unnecessary paranoia unnerves her.
"You have five minutes, Ms. Sato." the man gruffs, "Use it wisely." He fixes his eyes just towered her right; his gaze looking towered her direction seemingly making 'following orders' just that much harder. She locks her eyes with his, daring, and he flicks his away, jaw set.
He nods stiffly, "Very well. Good luck." and spins on his heels.
She listens as his footsteps fade just outside the hall where she knows he is waiting, and she approaches the bars tentatively.
The silhouette is slumped against a chair in the corner, his familiar frame looking thinner than she remembered, yet she recalls his flickering gold eyes narrowed in hatred when secured inside the Meca Tank. She doesn't recognize them now.
"...Hello, Dad."
"Asami..."