The cards scattered across the living roomâs floor were the first to greet himâ  however unsurprising such sight was,  recent events considered.  There was little to be found within the impassiveness of his blue gaze as it lingered for a moment longer;  a short lapse to be interrupted by a hand which came to rest upon his shoulder,  forcing his attention elsewhere and toward the one who now stood at his side.  The look in Kisaraâs eyes was soft as only she could manage,  silently encouraging him to do what he had already decided.  It would serve no true purpose for her to offer words of comfort to their daughter,  when they both knew it was his opinion and her fear of an unfavorable reaction on his part at her performance that weighed heavy on Setsunaâs mind.
   Thus why he found himself standing in front of his daughterâs room moments after,  the door emitting a soft sound as he opened it,  before he came to stand in the doorway.  And without a doubt,  the sight of cards scattered across the floor was one he would prefer over the one now before him,  Setsunaâs words as vulnerable as her current position.  He was certain she continued to replay the last duel in her mind,  endlessly so.  He would know,  after all.  Heâd done that himself each time heâd faced defeat at Yuugiâs hands.   Â
   Admittedly,  what happened that day wasnât the result he had expected and certainly not one he had wanted either.  He would lie if he said he was pleased.  It was unavoidable.  But the only thing that truly succeeded in eliciting an emotion akin to disappointment was the sight he had before him now.  He wasnât a complete stranger to defeat,  and to this day Yuugi still kept the title heâd once coveted.  Yet defeat was naught but an obstacle to be overcome.  Stand again,  try again;  become stronger.  In and out the dueling arena,  it was this what he wanted her to learn.Â
   â  Enough of this behavior.  â  Albeit stern as circumstances demanded,  his tone did not carry a hint of its usual coldness.   â  You will gain nothing from sitting here,  wallowing in self-pity over what cannot be changed.  âÂ
    It was easy, in the seclusion her room provided, to let weakness seep in; faint dampness collecting in her eyelashes, which she blinked away the moment the door had opened. She could cry on her own time, in her own space; but the thought of her dad seeing her in tears--- over the loss of a duel--- would have been worse than losing the duel itself.Â
    The sternness of his voice is what draws her out of her curled position; she took a deep breath, subduing the well of emotion that threatened to spill over in the form of tears. Kaibas were not supposed to cry over something as trivial as a duel. After the brief moment of collecting herself, she straightened her postture into something at least resembling the confidence sheâd always admired in her father. As much as a part of her would have liked to roll over, perhaps scream into her pillow, she knew he was right. Lingering on the mistakes sheâd made would not change what had happened out on the duelling field, would not change the outcome. Still, it took a great deal of effort on her part to finally lift her gaze so that she could meet his own.Â
    He wasnât mad--- at least, she didnât think he was mad. Observant as she was, it was still a little difficult, even for her, to read him sometimes. He was the master of keeping his emotions under wraps, where she was prone to cracking under pressure. His gaze was as harsh and glacial as it had always been, but it was his voice that told Setsuna he was not angry; and that, at least, made her relax a little.
    âIâm sorry,â she said at last; though she wasnât sure what she was apologising for at that particular moment. For losing the duel, and subsequently the tournament? Perhaps. For wallowing? Maybe. For letting him down? Definitely. Her gaze slowly averted to her hands, closed into fists, in her lap. Find your edge, Setsuna. âIâll... Iâll do better next time.â Firm and resolute. There was no point in adding anything further that wouldnât come off as excuses. Making excuses for her mistakes in a duel would have been just as disappointing as the self-pity percolating her thoughts just minutes earlier.