He falls asleep in a chair at the police station, and the endless rounds of questioning smear together in his mind. He catches glimpses of stringy-haired, exhausted Kisara throughout, and as he finally collects his belongings to leave, he spots her sipping from a styrofoam cup, reading a magazine in the lobby.
"I was was waiting for you," she remarks, standing up and crossing the room to stand shoulder-to-shoulder as soon as she sees him.
"Why on earth would you do that?"
Kisara smiles softly, draining the contents of her styrofoam cup and tossing it underhand into a waste bin. "Because you've been through hell," she says simply. "And because I was wondering what you were going to say, about how I saved your guts, and all."
Seto is too exhausted to feel or say anything, and stands frozen before Kisara, his eyes blankly fixed on her cable-knit navy-blue cardigan. Despite her disheveled state, Seto has to admit that she is really very pretty.
"Alright, you don't have to say anything, for now. You know….I could really use a drink, huh?"
X
He agrees numbly, allowing himself to be herded by the young woman as she guides him into a taxi and from the taxi into a quiet booth at a bar at the edge of town, where strings of Christmas lights hang from the ceilings in a pseudo-elegant fashion that he would be inclined to mock, if he weren't so tired. She orders a whiskey sour from a light-haired cocktail waiter, and when Seto finds himself struggling for words, she smiles sympathetically at him and orders him a black coffee.
"How did you do it?" Seto asks numbly as the waiter disappears into the kitchen.
Kisara tilts her head, frowning. "It was Mr. Wheeler, actually, who called me. He said that something felt off about a conversation he had with the director of the Children's Sanctuary. And starting from there, it wasn't too bad; he wasn't too good at covering up his tracks, because I think he was operating on the assumption that he wasn't going to get caught." She sighs deeply, loosening her snow-white hair from it's tired, frazzled braid and shaking her head to let the strands settle onto her shoulders. "I'm sorry I didn't figure it out earlier."
Seto shakes his head. "I couldn't ask for more from you," he responds.
They sit in silence for a moment. Seto stares at her, taking in her smudged charcoal-gray eyeliner and milky-pale skin and wide, gentle, dark blue eyes.
"Can I ask you something?"
He watches the pale pink lips purse into a slight, curious pout. "Mmm-hmm?"
"What made you believe in me?"
"What?"
Seto leans back, closing his eyes briefly. "Why did you go through all these lengths to try to clear my name? It would have been so much easier to start from the assumption that I was truly what the records would have you believe that I was."
"Hmmmm…" Kisara pauses, motioning with a quick flick of her eyebrows at the cocktail waiter, who sets a glass of amber-colored liquid in front of her, and a steaming mug of coffee in front of Seto. When he leaves, her lips tug into a thoughtful, asymmetric grimace, and a quiet, thoughtful noise purrs from the back of her throat.
"I just knew," she says finally. "When you called me into your office, something about your eyes told me that you weren't the one."
Seto frowns, taking a long sip of coffee, which burns like acid as it pours down his throat. He shudders at the weak, sour taste, but says nothing, narrowing his eyes at Kisara. "I've done bad things, Kisara. You'd be a fool to trust in a man's innocence based on a mere hunch."
Kisara sighs, running her hand through her hair. "I know," she sighs. "Gavin's computer…there were records of him cracking into your account and manipulating the records, but it had those…" she shudders, shaking her head violently, "...videos. I saw."
His heart sinks, and he feels a bitter taste rise in his throat. "I see."
She frowns, pushing her cup in a small circle on the table. "Don't worry, I deleted them before I turned the evidence over."
Seto can feel his eyes stretch wide. "Why….why would you do that?" he demands incredulously.
She frowns, pressing her tongue against the side of her cheek. "I….I'm not sure," she says uncomfortably, dipping her head to avoid his gaze. She stirs the melting ice in her glass, and Seto drums his fingers against the handle of his coffee mug as they each wait for the other to speak.
"Okay, I do know," she confesses finally. "I just...I've heard so much about you, Seto. I watched you when you were just a kid hosting Battle City. I remember all of those speeches you used to give, about how we aren't defined by our past." She lifts her glass, sipping delicately at her cocktail through the thin plastic straw. "When I met you in person, you were so shaken up. It wasn't because someone was planning to drag you through the mud, it was because of what they'd done. I could tell." She tilts her head, twirling a strand of white hair around her index finger. "So, um. That's it."
A smile manages to break through Seto's hard, exhausted veneer. "I appreciate that."
Kisara's eyebrows furrow for a moment, but her eyes meet his, and she lifts her chin as he returns her stare, proudly and confidently matching his gaze. "Well, that's what you believe, isn't it? That everyone deserves a second chance?"
Her eyes are a startling dark blue, a subtle sapphire hue that challenges him to look closer. He frowns at her words, remarking, "Well, it's up for you to make your own decisions. What do you think?"
"Of course," she responds evenly. She breaks their unspoken staring match to take a sip of her drink, and the pang of disappointment he feels to have her eyes off of him unsettles him a little bit. "I mean….that's got to be the worst of it, right? Maybe you finally have your second chance."
His lips press into a wry smirk. "We'll just have to see."
