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Who Makes You Feel?

Summary:

"Things had changed. How could have Seto not noticed how things had changed?"

Atem stayed. Now Seto has some feelings to work out.

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He’d been awake for two straight days.

It started as an irritating disruption to his work day; then, it grew to a daily occurrence. It was almost expected, anticipated even. It would hit at the most inopportune moments of the day: during meetings, trying to eat takeout with Mokuba, the middle of a rare, restful sleep, silent moments by the fire in his home. Seto Kaiba was hearing voices, and he did not like it one bit.

The worst part? It was his voice.

“What’s the rush, Kaiba? This duel’s just getting started…”

“If you truly want to know, open your mind.”

“Penalty Game! Mind Crush!”

“Kaiba, we may not always agree, but I still trust you.”

What the hell? Just because things have quieted down in the past couple of years does not mean he was allowed to think about how it used to be. How it was before he decided to wipe the floor with Yuugi, to stay in the modern day. And then Isis pulled some bullshit, producing a body out of thin air.

Before that, Seto had a rival, an end goal. Crush him.

When the Other Yuugi claimed a body, rose amongst the living in the 21st Century, with his spirit free to walk the Earth once again, the end goal was suddenly not enough.

The memory rang out brightly in his mind: his personal jet packed with Yuugi-tachi, each of them shrieking like fools. They were screaming, “Pharaoh! Pharaoh, wake up!” It didn’t sound right, even coming from Yuugi’s mouth. Of anyone, at that moment, Yuugi should have known what name to use, to give proper respect to the risen Pharaoh. They used to share a mind, right? Is that how it worked? Honestly, it didn’t matter; all he knew at that moment, thousands of miles in the air, the King of Games had just split in two. And there was no question which one was his true rival.

It had been two years, and just as he did in the jet, he wasn’t sure of where he stood with the Other Yuugi. Once Yuugi-tachi deplaned, they disappeared into a limo he’d begrudgingly offered, and the Other Yuugi went off the grid. With their distance came a path Seto had never known.

He was undeniably and inexplicably bored out of his goddamn mind.

He’d used work as a distraction; spending a year in America to open KaibaLand Los Angeles; hosting a summer tournament in Tokyo 6 months ago; launching a brand new Duel Disk system for the holidays, with a revolutionary VR system close behind. And yet, he felt no more accomplished.

He didn’t want to admit it, but the only thing that could cure the boredom of this world-renowned gamer would be to declare battle against that mysterious, red-eyed champion once again. To feel the normal shove and tug of dominance until, just before he dealt the final blow, the Other Yuugi would wipe out the playing field with a stealthy power-play, would give him exactly…

“That’s enough, this is not a game!”

Seto leaned forward quickly, his palms slamming to his eyes as if to block out the sound. It just pissed him off – why he was even thinking about the dumb bastard was beyond him. It had to be the time of the year; last winter was rough too. Winter meant Mokuba was at school. Winter meant snow and rain for months. Winter meant cold. Winter meant isolation.

Maybe he would try planning a tournament in KaibaLand Los Angeles, give Disneyland a run for its money. No, he did one only a few months ago – he didn’t want to look that desperate. Or make sure all his bases were covered on the VR release? Nope, Mokuba did that with him last week. Even calling Pegasus to fight over the rights to the Blue-Eyes for 20 minutes sounded like something that would preoccupy his time better than sitting here, listening to that damn voice on repeat, rehashing every memory the two of them ever shared.

“Nii-sama?”

Seto snapped open his eyes. Mokuba, holding two mugs of coffee, was staring at him. He thought it was much too late to be drinking coffee as he looked to the clock. It was 7:30am.

“Good morning, Mokuba.”

Mokuba trotted over to his brother, smiling into the fire one of the maids had built earlier. “The fireplace was a nice addition, huh?”

“Keeps the heating bill down,” Kaiba snorted, taking a cup, “Thank you.”

Mokuba took one sip, and noticed when Seto sighed into his cup before taking that holy first sip. That’s all it took, really. “So what’s up?”

“Hn… Nothing.”

The younger Kaiba rolled his flashing grey-blue eyes. “Seto, we play this game every time. I’m not a kid anymore.”

It was true; Mokuba was going into his second year of high school. His head reached the tip of Seto’s chin. “It’s nothing you need to be worried about.” Seto let a pregnant pause go by, and then added awkwardly, “How did the simulator go this morning?”

Mokuba gave his brother a look. “You asked me to do that yesterday, and I told you it went great. Are you feeling okay? Do you need something to do?”

Damn kid was too smart. “No. I’ve got plans for KaibaLand.”

“Which means yes, please give me something to do before I die,” Mokuba teased, and his brother’s icy blue eyes glared. “You know it’s true!”

Kaiba stood up. “I’m going over your notes for adjustments.”

“You asked me to do that last week while you were arguing with Pegasus about his stupid American trip this summer. I finished everything.”

Kaiba’s eyebrow twitched. “I’m going to reprogram it.”

“Seto, why don’t you call someone? Have some company for once!” The brothers latched gazes, because they both knew exactly where Mokuba was going. “Like Atem?”

He wished, for one moment, that Mokuba wasn’t so good at reading him. He willed away the pink trying to touch his cheeks. But he paused just long enough for a huge, looming smirk to spread over Mokuba’s face.

“Should I get the phone?”

“No.”

His brother’s eyes rolled in a perfect circle. “Seto, come on!”

“I see no point. He’s busy learning to be a dork with the dork squad.”

“Now you’re being petty.”

“Why would I let him-?”

The voice crashed into his head.

“If you truly want to know…”

Mokuba’s head cocked to the side. “Let him what?”

“In the house,” Kaiba snapped, “Why you’d think of him, out of all the losers in the world, is beyond me.”

Mokuba had to smirk again. “Because he’s the only loser in the world that wins every time.”

Now the kid was playing against his pride, and that always worked. “Goddamnit, give me the phone.”


Riiiiiiiiing.

“I raise.”

“I check.”

“I’ll raise too!”

Riiiiiiiing.

Everyone looked at Atem, who’s crimson eyes were flat as lakewater. “Is it my turn?”

Jou growled, “Pharaoh, you’re killin’ me here! Just call!”

Honda rolled his eyes to Shizuka. “He never gives it up, does he?” She giggled.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing .

“Yuugi, the phone is ringing!” Sugoroku’s raspy voice called from the front of the shop, following the comforting sound of his broom sweeping the floor.

Atem threw his cards down – royal flush – and stood. “I fold, and I will answer the phone.”

Yuugi-tachi stared at his discarded hand as he padded to the kitchen, where the phone was ringing loudly. They exploded into disbelief.

“He just threw the game!” Otogi shouted.

“How does he do that!?” Honda complained.

“Aw yeah, I win! And now it’s my turn to pick the next game!” Jou celebrated, dancing around the table.

“That’s a damn good poker face,” Mai chuckled, glancing at Yuugi. The small Mouto boy watched his darker half pick up the phone, eyes brimming with worry.

Atem barely fumbled with the receiver this time, pressing the green phone button purposefully and raising it to his ear, like a robot. “Mouto residence.” His shoulders softened noticeably, and he turned his back to the counter, hiding his face.

Yuugi-tachi finished collecting the deck of cards, chattering and laughing, as a strong New Years rain pounded the glass of the windows. The rain had not let up for almost a week now; today was especially bad, with the wind and thunder clouds rolling in. Everyone finally had a day to gather at Yuugi’s house to play a few games together, like old times. Between Jou’s training and working at the Game Shop, Honda’s mechanics apprenticeship, Anzu’s dance classes, Mai’s business ventures, Otogi’s game design, Ryou’s archeology program, and Shizuki finishing school, it was increasingly more difficult to get the gang together all at once. But the Pharaoh always brought them together.

Despite their efforts, Yuugi noticed a change happening in Atem. He was restless, unable to focus during most games, and their Dark Magician must have felt very neglected with his gradual disinterest in Duel Monsters. He wandered around the shop for hours at times, and often just watched people pass through the front of the store. Atem was bored. And it worried Yuugi sick.

“What game are we playing, Jou?”

The blonde grinned. “Twister!”

Everyone groaned.

Yuugi picked up one thing Atem said on the phone, “As will I,” before hanging up. He exited the kitchen, jogged up the stairs and disappeared into their room. Yuugi tried not to call attention to him; Jou just had to.

“Atem! You can’t avoid Twister by hidin’ upstairs!” Jou called, shaking the box. Anzu smacked him.

“Jou, would you leave him alone?!”

“Is he alright?” Mai murmured to Yuugi. Yuugi-tachi had been great about keeping tabs on Atem since their return from Egypt. Atem was adjusting fairly well, as everyone expected, minus his vendetta against anything electronic that wasn’t a duel disk or a game board. Atem hadn’t revealed too much emotional stress in front of all of Yuugi-tachi, but Yuugi knew Atem struggled with his decision everyday.

Winning the final duel was something Atem hadn’t decided to do until the very last moment Yuugi revealed his trap card to negate Monster Reborn. He saw something change in Atem’s eyes, something huge that rattled their mind link as it passed. The Pharaoh decided to make an extra play that hadn’t occurred to him before. It tortured Yuugi at times, when he could hear Atem’s dreams about resting with the loyal priests, his father, and all the others he left behind, to remain in a world he did not know a thing about.

Why did he decide to do it? Not even Yuugi could know – it was locked deep in Atem’s mind. Their mental connection through the puzzle was miniscule now, only slight yanks and pulls of emotion between the two of them. Atem asked Yuugi to wear the puzzle - “As a reminder of your wish and my home.” - and Yuugi could sense Atem’s restlessness constantly from within it.

Atem remerged before Yuugi could say anything to Mai, his thick leather jacket wrapped around him. Yuugi looked surprised he was dressed to leave.

“Going somewhere, Atem?” Mai asked mildly. Atem smiled. It was a tired smile, but sincere nonetheless.

“I am going to see Kaiba.” He looked to Yuugi, who gave him a small, stunned nod. “I’ll be back soon.” And he walked out the door.

Jou’s mouth was wide open. Honda, Otogi, and Shizuka exchanged glances, Mai blinked confusedly at Ryou, Anzu moved to Yuugi’s side with a quizzical look on her face. Yuugi just looked a little… relieved, actually.

“Yuugi, you’re gonna let him walk out in the rain to go see that rich punkass??” Jou exploded.

“You guys, give Atem some credit – “ Yuugi tried to ease the confusion in the room, but Jou was on a rampage.

“What, we not good enough for him or somethin’? Playin’ Twister with us is way more fun that barking insults at that icy bastard!”

“To see Kaiba, of all people?” Ryou voiced. Honda scowled.

“Probably another scam for Atem’s title or some crazy, voodoo, Shadow Game again!”

Jou clenched his fists, “I’ll kill ‘em if he tries to mess with Atem! A one-two punch and richboy would go down!”

Anzu touched Yuugi’s shoulder, glaring at all the others, “Obviously Atem knows what he’s doing, he’s not our kid! Yuugi doesn’t seem concerned about it. Are you?”

Yuugi hesitated, looking at his friends’ concerned faces. He smiled, albeit nervously, “Anzu’s right. We should trust his intuition.”

Jou frowned as Honda helped Shizuka pull out the Twister game mat. “Doesn’t mean we gotta like it.”


Seto felt frozen solid.

He sat alone. His heart thrummed, pumping his nervous blood through icy veins. He was always cold; one gets used to the frozen feeling, after weeks of shacking up in his tall office building, or his home office, or hotel rooms. Home didn’t even bring the warmth in. The fireplace was useless.

But, when he picked up the phone, and that voice answered the phone ( “Mouto Residence.”) something in the air moved. There was a quiet rumbling underneath the ice, all because that voice set fire to his blood.

Seto glanced at the ticking grandfather clock in the room. His mouth was pulled taut; the shadows of the fire licked his skin. He worried for one moment about his attire, dressed in a slim-fit, dark blue button up, and black slacks, sans coat. He looked long, lean, and made of marble.

He opened his eyes when someone knocked on the French doors. "Master Kaiba, Atem Mouto is here to see you.”

Seto tried not to snarl. "Let him in."

Isono left and the regal King of Games took his place a few minutes later through the sliding doors. Atem looked… well, Atem looked the modern royal. Stark black against skin that was only fit of an ancient Egyptian – how Isis pulled that off with his body is a mystery in itself – glowed warmly, with framing bangs and his famous black and red spikes. Atem's thick lashes formed around his infernos, that irritating smirk on his lips that said…

Let’s play a game.

"Hello, Kaiba."

"Hn," the young billionaire grunted. The ex-spirit smirked.

"I have my deck and I am ready for our duel. That’s what the rush was about, yes?”

Was… Atem making a joke?   "I hope you’re ready to stomach defeat this time."

The red-eyed duelist chuckled, "Your Blue-Eyes that hungry for a futile fight?"

"My dragons aren't going to take that from you."

"May I ask why aren't we using the Dueling Arena?"

Seto blanched - he didn’t think his excuse through. "I don’t need to explain to you why I think my home is more suitable for defeating you.”

A weird, warmed expression crossed Atem’s face when Seto used the word "home." It wasn't a frequent word from the man's mouth, and hearing it made Atem look more comfortable. Almost shying away, Seto whipped his head around to hide his expression. And to quit staring.

Atem smirked as he sat down in the seat opposite of Seto's desk and crossed his arms, brows raised at the brunette. "As you wish." Seto reached out his hand, and when Atem offered his deck, he took the cards gingerly. He resisted the feeling rising in him when their fingers brushed. The game king grinned, taking Seto’s deck without fanfare.

The duel flowed rather gracefully; Seto and Atem had the usual yank and pull of life points, Atem always a few short points below of Seto, until final blows were dealt, and the King whipped out a simmering defeat. Seto was left with the satisfaction that he dwindled Atem's life points from 8000 to a mere 150, and it only took him an hour to do so.

The defeat came as expected, Atem whipping his own dragon against him and devastating his defense, easily the elder Kaiba’s least-preferred way to lose. Yet, Seto felt warmed by the presence of the Egyptian and his commanding voice. That voice had once forced a Penalty Game on his hardened heart. That voice shattered his inner darkness. That voice brought death to his doorstep. That voice haunted his dreams, and now his waking moments. The memories has Kaiba lost in thought.

The game was over before he could reclaim his head. The room was silent. Atem returned both decks to their respective owners, and sat in his chair to admire the rain. Or was he watching Seto from the corner of his sharp eyes?

“I will be on my way, then. Good game,” the winner said smoothly, holding out his hand. Seto scowled at it. He remembered why the duel dome may have been a better idea – easier to duck back into his hiding places and avoid dealing with contact.

Seto grasped his hand, and the warmth surprised them both.

Atem stood and made his way towards the French doors, Seto left stunned in his seat. Touching the handle, Atem turned around. His eyes were full of mischief.

“Call me again, Seto Kaiba.”

Then he waited at the door. The command echoed through Seto’s core. A response died on his tongue, and it infuriated him. His mind had never been so fuzzy before. And when was the last time he took orders? His brain reared at the thought. His cool, collected voice surprised him.

“I will.”

Atem genuinely smiled. Kaiba felt his face grow hot. The King of Games disappeared between the doors.

Mokuba came home from school two hours later and found his brother frozen at his desk, hands interlaced at his forehead, Duel Monsters deck stacked perfectly before him. One Blue-Eyes was face up, staring at him accusingly.

Things had changed. How could have Seto not noticed how things had changed?

_____ _________________________________________________________________________

No one was home that afternoon, so Atem had to answer the phone again. He sighed, took a deep breath, and pressed the dreaded green button.

“Mouto Residence.”

“...Stop saying that.”

Atem pulled his ear away from the phone with a strange cross of bewilderment and mischief on his face. “Kaiba?”

“Unless you changed your last name, you should just answer the phone like everyone else.”

“Well, I seem to remember you answering the phone with your surname and no one questions your identity.”

“You should just identify yourself.”

Atem, former Pharaoh of Egypt, King of Games, formerly the Nameless Pharaoh and Spirit of the Millennium Puzzle, was very amused at the idea of reciting that long list, especially over the contraption of the future he hated the most.

“What should I say, if you're the expert?”

There was a familiar irritated grunt. “I don’t have time to explain how everyday life works. That’s not why I called.”

Atem peered out the kitchen window. Clouds had rolled in, heavy with rain. “So why did you?” Atem could almost hear the words die on Seto’s tongue. He smirked. “It’s been three weeks since our last game.”

“Forgive me for being distracted by my entire corporation.”

There was a silence that was to be expected, but it seemed to say more than their words could. Atem swore he could heard Kaiba’s heartbeat through the receiver… or maybe it was his own.

“What’s the occasion this time?”

There was a small patter of rain on the window. Atem heard Kaiba inhale slowly. “I’m sending a car to pick you up in an hour.”

He chuckled; he was having way too much fun with this. “I can walk, I need the fresh air.”

“No,” Kaiba’s voice was firm, “I don’t need your excuse for losing to be you’re cold and wet from the storm. I won’t take anything from you but your best.”

Kaiba hung up before Atem could ask when he ever battled at less than his best.


It was the middle of the night. Atem’s chest rose and fell in perfect time. The air was silent; not a whimper or the aching sound of grinding teeth, a twitch under the sheet or a flailing foot against a wall. Yuugi hoped this would be a rare night of peaceful sleep, for both him and the ancient Pharaoh turned-roommate.

But Atem was too still, too quiet, and Yuugi knew that wasn’t right either. He tested it with a whisper: “Atem?”

Sure enough, Atem glanced over his shoulder, eyes wide as can be. Through the skylight, the moon cast a soft, eerie glow over his irises. The tiny single bed Yuugi was curled up into always felt the right size for him; but for Atem, the bed looked too small, too stiff, too uncomfortable. Yuugi was happy to share a room with his closest friend, but Atem seemed too large a presence to be held within such close walls. The distance between their beds seemed larger than ever tonight.

“Aibou?”

Yuugi sighed. “I thought you’d be asleep.”

It was the first time Yuugi had seen guilt flicker across Atem’s face, and not know why. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No,” Yuugi smiled, “I can’t sleep either.”

Atem rolled over to face Yuugi, a tired smile on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

Yuugi shook his head quickly, “Nothing! I just hope you’re getting some rest.”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

Courage flickered in his chest to ask his burning question; they were alone, no Yuugi-tachi to chime in, no Jii-chan to burst through the door, no phones ringing…

“Atem, are you happy?”

The pharaoh nodded. “Yes. I am happy I am here with you.”

That wasn’t enough for Yuugi. He frowned, studying Atem’s face for any flicker of expression, anything to give him away. “You seem… I don’t know…”

Atem rolled onto his back to look at the ceiling. “I know I have not been myself lately.” Yuugi almost lurched out of bed.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that-...”

“But I can sense it.” Atem glanced back at the younger boy. “You are distraught, and I am the cause.”

Yuugi finally sat up. “Well… friends get worried when someone they love doesn’t seem happy.” He shrugged with a soft chuckle. “It could just be I’m frustrated we can’t share our thoughts anymore.”

Atem also laughed softly. “I thought you would finally enjoy the privacy.”

“I do!” Yuugi said, “But, to be honest, I am a little worried.”

Atem sighed loudly, his chest rising and falling under the sheet of his tiny bed. “I learn something new about this world every day. I find another machine I have to master or another sight I’ve never seen before. It’s amazing, there is so much to know.” Atem paused, smiling at Yuugi. “But always know I love being here with you and Jii-chan. I love the time I spend with Yuugi-tachi. I would be lost without all of you.”

Yuugi couldn’t bite his tongue. “You don’t regret it at all, do you?”

Atem didn’t hesitate. “Not one bit.”

“Well… you’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?”

Atem waited too long to answer. “Of course.”

The silence of the lie was huge, overwhelming; Yuugi almost forgot to breathe.

“Is there anything I can do?” Atem gave him a confused look. “You know, to make it easier for you?”

Atem shook his head. “You have given me more than enough. I will be indebted to you forever, aibou.”

The conversation was swallowed by the silence of the room. Yuugi waited for sleep to try and steal his brain, but Atem’s answers buzzed in his head. He wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight… at least tomorrow was Saturday. He tried to think of things to make the ex-Pharaoh remember home… but maybe that’d make him homesick. Maybe they could take a trip to Egypt? He’d work extra shifts at the Game Shop, and take up another job tutoring or working with Duke on game designs, and ask Mokuba if…

Yuugi’s eyes went wide. “Kaiba called again today, didn’t he?”

He swore he saw Atem almost jump out of his skin at the mention of Kaiba’s name. “Yes, he did.”

Yuugi sat up on his elbows. He couldn’t help it; he had to know. “What did he want?”

“He asked me to meet him at his Duel Arena tomorrow, to test a new deck he’s been working on.”

“How was his ‘I will finally defeat you, King of Games!’ speech this time?”

Atem smiled. “No speech, thankfully.”

“Are you going?”

Atem’s eyes found Yuugi’s. “After my work tomorrow, yes.”

He wasn’t sure why, but Yuugi’s heart leapt into his throat. He grinned. “You enjoy Kaiba’s company now, huh?”

The air in the room broke with the sound of Atem’s soft laugh. “Kaiba had never let me down on a battle before. We have found some… common ground.”

“I bet that common ground is you always winning, no matter what he tries?”

“Yes, but with him, the win is never easy.”

Yuugi smirked. “I never let you win easily!”

Atem laughed loudly, with a flash in his crimson eyes. “Is that a challenge?”

Yuugi sprang out of bed. “You bet it is!”

Sugoroku woke at the break of dawn to the sound of the boys’ announced attacks and uncontained laughter.


He had been coming to the mansion once a week between shifts at the game shop. As much as he denied it, Seto called more often when it rained and snowed for days. Then, they would play game after game, until it was too late to be considered decent.

It was, in comparison to that brisk first visit, becoming warm and comfortable in the Kaiba manor. Seto almost said Atem’s name in the past few invites, only over the phone. They were inching, but it was forward.

"Where is Mokuba?" The Pharaoh’s voice echoed over the crackling fire, moving his rook two spaces forward. Check.

"Studying for a test tomorrow. Came home with a B- in Biology; I have him studying until I deem him free to do anything else." Kaiba’s knight took the rook. Check.

Atem had to laugh; the sound startled Seto. "Oh Kaiba, give the kid a break. He has to deal with school, keep a social life, be VP of your company AND live with you." He smirked when the blue-eyed CEO glared at him. The ex-pharaoh’s last pawn surprised his knight. Checkmate.

They replaced the chessboard to its proper alignment and exchanged Duel Monster decks without a word.

"Sometimes school seems unnecessary for him. Half those teachers can't even fathom the amount of intelligence my brother has in one brain cell."

"Don’t be arrogant," Atem crossed his legs comfortably and leaned back.

“I’m not. He’s brilliant.” The Game King liked the expression on Seto’s face when he talked about his brother. “He doesn’t need anyone to distract him.”

“Ah, but your brother loves his friends, and he needs them to be happy.”

If Seto had known the odd, painful expression that crossed his eyes when he gazed down at Atem's deck in his hand that night, shuffling it absentmindedly, he would have been mortified at the ease it emerged from his icy shell. He grew very quiet, and felt the prickle of Atem watching him closely.

"Is everything alright?"

"Hn."

Atem raised his eyebrow. "Did I say something to offend?"

“Nope.”

Another awkward pause. Atem was gripping his hands together. “You seem distracted.”

Seto straightened up and practically threw Atem's cards into his lap. "What’s it matter to you?"

Startled, Atem’s mouth shot off without his brain. "Because I care about you!"

All the air in the room froze.

Seto's pupils nearly disappeared. Atem’s mouth creased, not in a scowl, but as if he were trying to solve a difficult problem. His eyes were open and unmoving. "I can see something is on your mind. I can see it has been for a while."

Fuck, Seto thought. He didn’t deny Atem’s accusation, and the Pharaoh was much too smart not to notice. “Hn. Again, what’s it to you?”

“If it’s going to distract you from playing chess with me, then it must be something important.”

“I’m fine.”

That was when the jaw of the epic King of Games squared and his eyes took on a glint of determination. Seto had a short flashback of falling into the darkness of a Mind Crush. He felt sweat gather under his arms.

“A wager, then.” Seto’s heart leaped in his throat. “If I win at a game of your choice, you’ll tell me.”

The questions that attacked the elder Kaiba’s mind were relentless. What in the world was Atem thinking? But, again, the pride of victory was swiped under his nose on a platter. He knew, he knew , in the back of his mind he would lose; but he knew that look, he knew that voice, and he knew there was no surrendering.

“And if I win?”

“I’ll drop it.”

His heart hammered in his chest; he’d been a fool today. Mulling over this… this whatever he had with the ancient Pharaoh. But no, not just an ancient Pharaoh, but this person in front of him who had a new life, stark different from the one before. Letting his emotions play on his face like an irresponsible child; he tried not to look as angry at himself as he felt.

“Deal.”

Atem did not smirk at the acceptance. That should have been the first red flag. “Which game do you choose?”


Mokuba came home from his study group to shouts and peaked laughter coming from the gaming den. Once he deemed the situation had not turned homicidal, he smiled. He hadn’t heard his brother laugh like that in ages.

“Of all the things to chose, I can’t believe you’re losing to me at virtual Duel Monsters!”

“This is just a video game! Would you call already?!”

“I did call, it’s your move, Seto Kaiba!”


It had been a year.

He called more and more often.

Atem answered every time.

He felt like he needed to make this an occasion. A whole year of keeping his company was something worth even a tiny glass of champagne or a nice dinner. Mokuba offered a few ideas – “Light the fireplace, burn nice candles, get him a present. The works!” – but Seto knew that was definitely not the impression he wanted to make. He needed something for Atem. But what? Something Egyptian – no, that was too damn cheesy.  Maybe something new for his deck? Nope, that was Yuugi’s job at the Game Shop.

A memento of him? Something with a Blue-Eyes? That seemed even more suggestive than candles and a roaring, winter fire. It wasn’t a date; it was a meeting of…

Of...?

“Nii-san!”

“What?”

His little brother, now only half a head shorter than himself, rushed through the doorway, “Yuugi’s here! Did you invite him over on accident?”

Kaiba’s eye twitched at his brother’s sarcasm, and he stood from his desk. He was dressed as if he were going into the office for a meeting, in a light silver suit and a black tie, but he never went in. Mokuba wanted to poke fun at him, he could see it in the light of his eyes, but the brat knew to resist until further notice.

“What the hell does he want?”

“I wanted to see if I could help you.” Yuugi’s voice startled him. Mokuba’s look in his eye was no longer teasing, but completely guilty. Kaiba gave him the typical “you’ll-be-grounded-later” look, and stood tall. He could tell Yuugi felt uncomfortable, but the duelist stood his ground. Even he was grown a bit – last Kaiba remembered, the shrimp could barely reach his sternum at the hairline, and now he looked like he’d hit his shoulders no problem.

About Atem’s height.

Stop thinking like that right now.

“Help me with what?”

“Mokuba told me you were thinking about doing something for Atem,” he smiled at the black mop of hair, where the teasing-guilt look spread farther and father, “And I think I know what it could be.”

Kaiba growled, “I’m sure I have it handled without your input.”

“Seto, just listen to him. It’s a good idea!” Mokuba retorted.

“I don’t have time for friendship bull today.”

The younger duelist shook his head nervously, “Nothing of the sort, Kaiba! If you want to do something for Atem, you could consider this: come to the New Year’s Party tonight at Jou and Mai’s apartment.”

“Hn.” Kaiba was firm and unyielding, “You couldn’t give me enough money to set foot in that doghouse.”

Yuugi still looked as innocent as a kitten, but something gleamed in his eyes. “I know Atem was considering inviting you himself.”

Seto remained silent. Mokuba’s smirk spread along his face again, knowing it was difficult to stop the elder Kaiba in his tracks of an argument.

Brat.

“I’m sure he has the guts to ask me instead of sending a messenger.” Kaiba crossed his arms after a quiet pause. Yuugi let out the breath he was holding.

“I’m afraid Jou might have talked him out of it,” the younger duelist smiled, “But Atem loves being surprised.”

As much as he doubted that, he felt a spark of mischief, thinking of catching the King of Games off guard. And the added bonus of irritating the hell out of Jounouchi; it was sounding more like an excellent idea. He held his icy-blue eyes on Yuugi and took a seat behind his desk to distance himself. This is too easy.

“I’ll be fine to think of something on my own.”

Yuugi and Mokuba’s faces dropped. “Seto, come on!”

“Really, it would not be too much or too little Kaiba. You wouldn’t have the pressure to over-do it.”

The snarl crawling on the elder Kaiba’s face made Yuugi tremble in his winter boots. “Are you insinuating I would over-do anything, Yuugi Motou?”

Yuugi went a little white in the face. Mokuba tried damage control. “No! Nii-sama, Yuugi is just saying it would take the stress off you.”

“He would object to you buying him anything, anyway.” Yuugi agreed.

Seto keep his gaze frozen and distant. “I think the presence of your geek squad is what I most object to.”

Mokuba gave Yuugi the ‘he’s-about-to-give-in” look, and he went for it: “Nii-sama, think about it. You just have to dress up a little…”

“Which you’re obviously good at,” Yuugi tried not to overstep, but he had to point out the suit donned by the sleek, tall brunette. Seto’s lip curled a fraction.

“And I can come with you!” Mokuba chirped, “To be your wingman, and all!”

Seto sat back in his chair, eyeing Yuugi, who’s huge violet eyes were practically dancing. “I think this is going to be a great idea, Kaiba. You don’t know what it’ll mean to him.”

“Hn.”

They both looked hopeful, too hopeful. If he said no now, going back would look even worse.

“Will you do it?” Mokuba pleaded more than asked.

“So it would seem.” The two co-conspirators cheered and hi-fivved. “Now get out of my house.”

Mokuba’s face flushed with embarrassment. “I’ll walk you out, Yuugi.”

As he was pulled out from the study, Yuugi turned in the doorway and gave Seto a comforting smile. “Thank you.”

Seto frowned, but his shoulders visibly eased.

Watching his brother wave goodbye to the limo as it pulled from the snowy driveway, Seto felt speechless. His mind was undulating strangely. Calmness slowly swept along his veins, through the icicles in his blood, through the glacier wedged in his heart. The house was losing its biting chill, not enough to reach the pads of his fingers and toes, but somewhat close to keeping his core thrumming with a steady beat. The world was slowly piecing together into a rhythm that he faintly remembered. Seto Kaiba seemed to be thawing out his heart.

For what? 


 

Not for this, obviously , Seto growled in his private thoughts. The door in front of him was vibrating with the obnoxious rattle of whatever the mutt considered to be music. Mokuba was still clamoring his way up, thinking he could beat his elder brother in the elevator by running up nine flights of stairs.

If Seto thought he could feel a warmth in his blood after Yuugi’s proposal this morning, he definitely felt his heart pumping now. He was irritated for having to come to a stupid party for a particularly awful holiday, with promises of cheap alcohol and cheaper company. He growled as Mokuba audibly paused for a breath in the staircase.

“Mokuba, we can’t wait here all night!” he barked. Or we could.

“Two more flights, Seto!” Mokuba huffed back, “This wine is heavier than I expected…”

Sinking into his coat and glancing out the hallway window, Seto shook a little under his skin. He was not nervous, of all things, and especially not nervous waiting to be let into a hostile environment, for the sole reason that his rival turned… acquaintance was behind that door. This had nothing to do with Atem, or Yuugi, or anything, this sudden dropping sensation in his chest. If anything, he was shaking because it was fucking cold outside, and he’d much rather be inside his warm den by the fireplace, cracking at a game of chess with…

Stop.

He clenched his fists, staring intently into the brown paper bag nestled in the crook of his arm. These losers probably haven’t ever seen a bottle of vodka like this; it was from Gozoburo’s personal collection. Seto needed every excuse to get rid of all of it, that didn’t involve drinking it. He detested anything that would muddle his sharp mind, and had no reason to display it. It was still gathering age inside a dark, colder part of that haunted house.

Mokuba found the last step, doubled over and caught his breath. “I… made it!”

“It was a close race,” Seto replied, “Too tired?”

Mokuba rolled his huge eyes, “Please, aren’t you past poor excuses at this point?”

The elder Kaiba frowned deeply. “This dump is a poor excuse for a party venue.”

Mokuba shifted the few bags of wine he begged to carry, to feel a bit older and cooler. “But Atem’s in there.”

“This is not a way we like to meet,” Kaiba tried to explain; Mokuba was giving him the wolf grin again and he grimaced. “You are on such thin ice.”

“Nii-san!” Mokuba laughed, “Come on, I know you’ve been planning this all day. You spent three hours alone picking out your coat! I know you’re nervous, but - !”

“I am not nervous.” Seto was firm enough to make Mokuba stop in his tracks, “This is just not the way I do things.” He pointed to his clothing, a black turtleneck that made his blue eyes jump out like a vivid ocean view, and his usual long, slim-cut pants that clung to his skin and made his legs miles and miles long. A handsome silver trench coat topped off everything.

“You look great, you’ve brought your contribution to the party, and you’re here . Atem’s going to be very surprised.”

This also earned a frown. “I can hardly imagine him that fond of surprises.”

Mokuba shook his head, smiling. “Just knock on the door, Seto.”

He growled under his breath and rapped his knuckles on the dirty green door three times. He broke out into a cold sweat when the locks on the door started to click behind the thin door, and Mai’s huge, made-up eyes and blonde hair peeked from behind it. She looked relieved when Mokuba jumped in the air and shouted, “Hi! We brought wine and other stuff!”

“Thank God, I thought you were the cops.” She grinned, opening the door wide. “Come on in!”

The music was unbelievably loud, rumbling the entire apartment like an earthquake. Seto felt it through his sternum, every rib in his chest rattling from the heavy base. It wasn’t the best sound quality, Seto’s inner snob complained, but the party was thoroughly enjoying it anyway. People had plastic cups full and paper plates littered with snacks. Mokuba rushed straight in, handing Mai the two bags of wine and disappearing, most likely to rendezvous with Yuugi.

There’s no going back now. Seto straightened his shoulders and walked through the door.

“Thanks.” He didn’t mean it to come out so cold, but Mai was too busy looking at the wine to notice.

“Damn, Kaiba, these are nice! I’ll hide them for later.”

The bag he was holding suddenly extremely heavy. He didn’t want to hand it over in fear of Mai noticing the slight shake in his hands.

“Here.” He felt incredibly awkward; it cut through his mental state like a knife. Mai, again, failed to notice. Or the semi-nerd was being way too nice. He took the paper bag off the bottle of vintage vodka and Mai blinked at it, shocked.

“Kaiba, this is too much.”

“Well what do ya expect from rich boy?” Jou’s voice rang out sharply, “He has to come armed to the teeth with money so everyone can know whatta douchebag he is!”

Mai shoved Jou in the chest as soon as his arms went anywhere near her waist and her eyes glittered at Seto. “Ignore him, he wasn’t trained for good taste.”

The billionaire sneered in response. “Here I thought it was only his manners.”

“Hey, assface!” Jou snapped, “Watch your damn mouth in my house! Mai! Don’t side with money-bags! He-!”

“Just brought over a bottle of Stoli Elit vodka.” Jou didn’t seem that impressed. “It’s worth about ¥37000 on a bad day.” His mouth dropped open.

“Seto!” Mokuba’s voice never sounded so sweet. Seto’s eyes snapped around the loud party as Mai closed the apartment door behind him, bickering with Jou. Mokuba was just a bouncing head, trying to see over the dancing bodies of Shizuka, Otogi and Honda, and others Seto didn’t bother to recognize. Surrounded by all the noise and bodies, he felt out of his element. He hovered over to where Mokuba’s voice rang out, and his brother practically dragged him to the corner.

“Here, drink this and don’t move!” The younger, more-socially-adept Kaiba shoved a glass of wine in his brother’s hand and dashed off. Seto swore he saw Yuugi on his heels. He snorted and leaned against the wall, taking a sip of the wine. It was terrible.

Someone bumped into him and almost sloshed wine on his pristine coat. He practically growled at the young lady, who was about to apologize before she was dragged away by her friend, whispering, “That’s Seto Kaiba! I knew Mai had nice-looking friends, but damn!” He pressed his shoulders against the wall, as the music shifted into a slower song and some couples began to dance against each other. He felt someone else bump his elbow, and he whirled his head around to tell them what fucking idiot can’t see Seto…

“Kaiba?!”

Oh, fuck.

Atem blinked up at him. He was… damn he looked good. He was wrapped in a slim-fitted black turtleneck with no shoulders or sleeves, decorated in gold earrings and a choker, and even outlined his eyes in kohl. His gaze, wide and red and unmoving, crushed the breath from Seto’s chest instantly.

What?!

“What?”

Atem stared at him, dumbfounded. “What are you doing here?”

“I...” He swore he caught Mokuba and Yuugi watching. “Uh… surprise?”

Atem’s gaze unmistakably trailed from Seto’s eyes to his waist and back up. Seto stood straight and glared at him. A grin tugged at Atem’s mouth, then he laughed. He clutched his stomach and gave a burst of abandoned laughter, one Seto had never heard before. The fire that flared into his cheeks was almost unbearable, but he was lost in the sound.

“I’ve - haha! - I’ve never been this surprised before.”

Seto scowled. “Don’t get used to it.”

“What’s the occasion?”

The brunette swallowed hard. “Your ‘cousin’ and my brother arm wrestled me.”

But Atem’s eyes glittered. Seto knew he was made. “And?”

Seto tried his best not to spontaneously combust. “And what?”

“It’s been a year. Since you called the Game Shop.”

Everything was gone in a flash. Seto lowered his eyes for a moment. Then he lifted his glass between them. Atem, with a grin, clicked their glasses together. The noise seemed louder than anything in the room. Those crimson eyes bore into him, flickering from his face to hands to chest. The black against his dark skin, the blonde bangs framing the black around his eyes, the deep timbre of his laugh. Seto couldn’t hear the music playing.

He opened his mouth, not sure what was going to come out of it, but the ex-Pharaoh grabbed his wrist. “Let’s get some air.” And dragged him through the crowd. He glanced back at his brother and saw him high-five Atem’s violet-eyed counterpart, before they disappeared behind a hallway and Atem took him through a window. They climbed the fire escape, and Seto was a few seconds away from bitching about being seen on a rooftop for a man of his status.

But when they reached the roof, when the city unfurled itself before them like a huge chess board. Atem settled comfortably by his side on the edge of the roof, their feet dangling over. All his thoughts disappeared in the night’s impending snow.

Atem sighed audibly. “This city is incredible.”

Seto didn’t trust himself to say anything that made sense; he hadn’t had alcohol since the KaibaLand LA opening, and that was champagne he took one sip of and dumped in the bush once the cameras stopped flashing. One sip of wine was going to his head.

“It’s bright and loud. Every city is the same.”

Atem chuckled, his face tinged pink. “They’re all like that, aren’t they?”

“Get on an airplane and you’ll know.”

“Give me a little credit, Kaiba,” Atem sneered, “I’m an ancient Egyptian pharaoh, who took over the body of a teenaged boy who likes punk clothing and card games.”

Seto raised his eyebrows. “I will give you credit for knowing what ‘punk’ means.”

Atem scratched the back of his head, his voice highly amused and deep with his buzz. “It’s taken me some time, but I almost have my head wrapped around all this.” He gestured towards the buildings around them, random lights flickering on and off, a distant yowl of an alleycat being chased by a stray dog, the sounds of the party jingling alongside all the neighbors enjoying the coming of the new year.

It took a moment, but Seto finally realized he’d been giving crap to an ancient Egyptian pharaoh’s spirit who was dropped in the body of a teenaged boy that likes punk clothes and card games. Seto tried to imagine it. It was out of his grasp, despite his rather well-endowed imagination. Atem knew another reality before this one. He’d been telling a 3,000 year old spirit to get up to speed, before he even remembered his own name.

Seto Kaiba was not one to every admit his faults, but this was a rare moment.

“I’m a jerk.”

Atem stared at the side of his face, shocked into silence. He burst into a hysterical laugh, clutching his stomach. Seto felt his cheeks flare. He stared down the side of the building, trying to ignore the sensation crawling in his guts from Atem’s open laughter.

“Can I do that thing with a mobile phone where your voice can be saved forever?”

Seto had to smirk. “Record me?”

“Yes!” Atem guffawed, “I have to save that for the next 3000 years!”

Setting his wine glass to his side, Seto leaned back to look up at the sky. It felt odd to be so comfortably lax in an unfamiliar place, but it was easy this time. He tried not to think of why.

“That’s what I mean.”

Atem wiped a tear from a kohl-rimmed eye, and asked between giggles, “What do you mean?”

“I forgot you were that old.”

Atem smiled warmly, face tinged pink from the blood-red drink in his hand. “I never deemed you so forgetful.”

There was another silence, but it spread quietly and comfortably through the night air. There was no tension between glances, no furious thoughts rushing to find a next move, to build up a quick defense or deal a fast, final blow. There was no game between them. It was two companions, side by side, on a fresh winter night, simply enjoying the company. Seto was surprised at the calmness in his mind, his body, maybe even his soul.

It had been a long time since he thought he had a soul.

“We need a rematch,” Atem said into the darkness. Seto raised an eyebrow at him.

“For what?”

“Our game,” Atem chuckled a few times again, “It was a draw. The game where you were going to tell me what’s wrong with you.”

Seto know exactly which game he was talking about. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, Kaiba,” Atem rolled his eyes with a grin – the wine was making him more bubbly than usual. “Don’t insult yourself.”

Seto frowned. “What if I don’t remember what’s bothering me.”

“You do.” The pharaoh’s eyes glinted in the rooftop lights. “I can see it.”

There was another silence while Seto rearranged all his defenses, making sure his face hadn’t slipped even for a moment to give anyone the impression he wasn’t feeling his usual repelling, icy self.

“Don’t try to talk your way out,” Atem waved his hand as he sipped from his glass, “I know you.”

“If this is some voodoo bullshit about me in the past life while you were Pharaoh and whatever, then save it—”

Seto stopped himself when he caught those crimson eyes looking into him, not just at him. He sat up again, his back aching from the brick wall he’d been leaning on. Maybe something inside was aching. He wasn’t sure yet.

“You got to pick last time,” Atem smirked, “I think it’s my turn.”

Seto refused to let anything show on his face. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure how well he was doing. “Fine.”

Atem held out both hands, and made a fist to rest in his opposite palm. He grinned like a madman. Seto pushed away another flashback of his Penalty Game. “What is it?”

“Rock, paper, scissors.”

Seto blinked. Is he serious?

“Yes, I’m serious.”

Get out of my head! Seto blushed in the darkness, hoping Atem couldn’t see in the dim light as well as he could see Atem’s glimmering eyes. “What are you, five?”

Atem scoffed sarcastically. “It’s not childish. It’s simple”

Seto growled. And finally said, “Whatever.”

He presented his fist to match Atem’s, and they pumped their hands. 1-2-3. Seto chose rock; Atem, of course, had paper. The winner grinned, his nose pink.

“Best two out of three.”

The ex-pharaoh chuckled. “Never picked you to be a sore loser.”

Seto presented his fist again without any retort, his eyes glimmering in the lights. The hard blue they’d taken on since the days of Gozaburo’s tutelage safely tucked away any emotion other than the outright refusal to lose. His teeth were grinding together. He could tell Atem saw the clench in his jaw.

They played again. “Rock. Paper. Scissors.” Seto had rock once again; Atem switched to scissors.

They locked eyes. In the heat of battle, they couldn’t tear away. It felt just as exhilarating as a duel with the holograms infused with the ancient magic of the Millennium Puzzle, creatures roaring over the heat exchanged in their gazes. They were two forces that couldn’t be matched, and the collision of their powers was always devastating. As simple as the Roshambo game seemed, Seto had just as much riding on its outcome as he did when he fought for his brother’s life at Duelest Kingdom.

“Rock, Paper—” They chanted together, and as Seto said “Scissors,” Atem cheated.

“Devil’s Sanctuary.”

The taller man’s eyes darted up as his flat hand fell into his palm. “What?”

Instead of the winning hand signal of scissors Seto almost knew Atem would present, he held his playing hand open, upwards, fingers loosely extended towards Seto’s chest. The smile on his face was almost disturbing as much as it was soft.

“Devil’s Sanctuary; I win.”

Seto snatched his hand away. “Never pinned you to make up rules, just for the win.”

“I did no such thing.” Atem’s head swerved towards his, as if he were leaning in to headbutt him or…  “I returned your favor.”

The taller of the two colored pink in the face. “No return needed.”

Atem smirked, inches from Seto’s mouth. “Do you ever let anyone help you?”

“Unnecessary leg work.”

Atem shook his head. “How blind can you be?”

He felt his nostrils flare and his throat go dry. “What the hell do you know...” The glint in Atem’s eyes made him snarl. “About me?

If Atem wasn’t as smart as he was, he would have snapped and snarled and argued that the past year of their meetings and game playing must have showed him something. If he was anyone else, he would have complained that Seto didn’t notice all the time they’d spent together, or how much closer they’ve become, or even how they might be something like friends. If Atem didn’t know Seto as well as he did, he would have been offended or hurt.

But Atem knew him better than his frozen heart could admit. He merely grinned with another flash of a challenge in his eyes.

“I want to know everything about you, Seto Kaiba.”


“Hey, has anyone seen my brother?” Mokuba’s head popped into the conversation, and Mai clasped Jou’s shoulders to steady him before he opened his fat mouth.

Yuugi tried to hide a smile. “No, I haven’t for a little while.”

Anzu was a little more perceptive. “I haven’t seen Atem around either, for at least a half hour.”

“Maybe they’re on the roof screwing with each otha,” Jou had to add. Mokuba laughed way too loudly.

“Yeah right, Seto and Atem? Hah! They’d kill each other first!”

All of Yuugi-tachi exchanged glances, except Jou who was progressively getting more agitated at the thought of Atem and Seto alone somewhere, probably playing some weird Shadow Game-infused duel.

Mai glanced at Yuugi, who avoided her gaze, before she raised an eyebrow. “Okay, kids, what are you up to?”

Yuugi tried to hide his surprise. “What? Nothing! What’s so suspicious?”

Mai pointed to Mokuba, who was busy avoiding her eyes as well by scanning the room. “You two are so pointedly not looking for those two that it’s odd. Are you setting them up?”

Mokuba and Yuugi responded at the same time. “What?? No!”

Anzu joined Mai with her female intuition. “You are!”

Before they could pry open the short teen any more, Jou glanced down the hall and saw the window was open. He wore a huge scowl. “Hey, I think moneybags is hiding on my roof! I outta—!”

The younger Kaiba and Yuugi looked at each other, panicked. Yuugi whipped his head to Mai. “Mai, I need a favor.”

“On it, short stuff.” Yuugi couldn’t help but tinge pink at the look Anzu gave Mai for the jab (he was almost her height!), but Mai was already patting Jou’s head and leading him away from the fire escape with whispers in his ear. He was led away with cloudy eyes and maybe a bit of drool at the corner of his mouth, as Yuugi, Mokuba, and Anzu booked it for the roof, closing the curtains quietly behind them.


“That’s ridiculous - you know enough.” Seto crossed his arms.

Atem shrugged. “We keep each other company. I’ve told you details about me, and you’ve reciprocated. We have, dare I say it, fun together.”

Seto swallowed with no response, because Atem’s eyes were mere inches away from him and he was looking so deeply inside him, he thought he might read his thoughts. Don’t do this.

“I share whatever I feel is relevant — you’re not family, and you’re certainly not a friend. There’s nothing more you need to know.” It almost stung coming out, but his tongue held firm.

“We’ve plateaued, Kaiba.”

Please don’t do this. Seto said it with his eyes, which he knew were too practiced at hiding emotions to let Atem see.

“We’re just fine with where we’re at.”

“You’re doing everything you can to ignore it. And yet, you’re here, on a sentimental night of the year, at a party with Yuugi-tachi no-less, as a surprise to me. I know you see more than you’ll let yourself say.”

“All I see,” Seto snarled, wishing his mouth would just stop for one goddamn second, “is me kicking your ass one day at cards. Nothing more and nothing less.”

“If you’re not going to tell me what you’re hiding,” Atem completely ignored the quip, sipping the last of his wine, “Then I get a different reward for my triumph.”

“For fuck sake, Atem.” Seto balked at saying his name, though. “Give up. I’m tired of these mind games.”

“No mind games, this time.” It was a morbid joke, and Seto didn’t want to laugh. “I just want one thing.”

“What?”

Atem smirked.

“May I kiss you?”

Seto blinked. He anticipated throwing a huge fit, stiffening up, maybe even jump off the roof and never, ever face this in real life. Yes, he’d pictured once or twice or more than that, but it was always dreams and that’s besides the point! Atem would never ask this in person, never sober, and never mean it.

So, instead of flying off the handle, he rationalized. “Oh. I see.”

Atem giggled . “Is that a yes?”

The CEO set down his drink on the edge, and removed himself from his perch. Atem gave him a puzzled look, and followed suit. Then, they stood a comfortable distance from each other, as if they were preparing for a duel.

“I know what you’re doing.”

The former Pharaoh rolled his crimson eyes lightly. “This is much more dramatic than I imagined.”

“We’re done. Playing. Games.”

Atem straightened up, and crossed his arms in the familiar “It’s Time to Duel!” way. The fire was back in his eyes; the intense, passionate one that was unable to back down from any challenge. Those eyes had taken Seto Kaiba down many times — but not on this playing field. Not today.

“I’m not trying to upset you.”

“You’re not,” Seto scoffed as if his intelligence had been questioned, “You’re pushing me to break a boundary. This is a test.”

“No, no, Kaiba,” Atem dug his palms into his eyes. Seto was almost more irritated at the loss of eye contact, but it allowed him more focus. “That is the farthest from what I meant.”

“You expected a drink or two would loosen me up, make me spill my guts, and try to take advantage of us just… playing games with each other this past year. And now, you’re here to try and get inside my head again.”

“And how would this benefit me, this theory of yours?” The voices were sounding so familiar, as if they were barking about Dark Magician and Blue-Eyes attacks.

“You’ll make some proof up that I feel about you like your old priest or whatever the hell it is you’re trying to recreate. I will not play this game. This is my life, not yours, and especially not his.”

Atem was full of surprises tonight, because instead of becoming enraged or letting his own pride flare up into the battlefield, he threw his head back, and another deep, mirthful laugh broke from his smooth throat.

“That’s your excuse today? Because you don’t want to be hurt?”

But Seto was losing his cool; he could feel it in his teeth, his knees, his back – the cold was simmering. His brother could pry him open, sure. But not his rival, not the man who sits across the table and kicks his ass to the curb everyday, and has the balls to ask him to call again for next week. Kiss the man! His heart screamed at him.

“Oh trust me, the one who’s going to get hurt is you.”

The air was closing between them. Seto marched right up to Atem to tower over him. Red eyes latched onto his. He felt his blood rush in his pulse.

“You don’t see what I’m asking, do you?”

Seto knew what Atem was asking, he knew it as if it were the answer to life itself. Yes, I do.

“You’re asking for too much.”

Atem hesitated. The wine swirling in his eyes stilled for a moment. Seto felt a shudder whirl through his body. Please see that lie. Please.

He must have seen Seto’s wall go down. His red eyes narrowed. There was suddenly no space between them.

“No more games.”

He felt Atem’s palm on the nape of his neck. Before it registered that he’d leaned in, their lips were attached, and his tongue was squirming to get inside that mouth, his body broke into a wave of gooseflesh. His hands wrapped around the small of Atem’s back and shoulders. He gripped tightly, as if he were the wind. Atem’s free hand dug into fine fabric of his shirt. Kaiba had one moment, the moment to break away, laugh in Atem’s face, and turn on his heel with his point made. He was too busy wondering how he’d gone so long without kissing the King of Games, to see it pass.


“No. Fucking. Way.”

“Mokuba!” Anzu hissed under her breath, “Your brother would kill us if he heard you talk like—!”

Yuugi’s eyes were wide too, his grip tight on her hand. “No Anzu… look.”

She heard their shouting, she heard Kaiba’s voice raise and tighten, she heard Atem laugh. But when she saw, she gasped.

“No fucking way!”

She squeezed Yuugi’s hand back. Mokuba squirmed in triumph. “It worked it worked it worked, Yuugi!”

Anzu had never seen Yuugi’s eyes so wide before. “It makes sense.”

“What?” Anzu shook her boyfriend, worried, “Yuugi what’s – why are you crying?!”

Mokuba whipped his head around to see Yuugi’s eyes tearing up.

“I never knew why. I never knew why he beat me.”

The final duel , Mokuba thought immediately. “He defeated you so he could stay here, with us, Yuugi.”

“No,” Yuugi shook his head, wiping away the tears at his eyes. Anzu hugged him. “No he didn’t.”


When Kaiba pulled away softly, Atem hadn’t moved or even opened his eyes. In a loss of self-consciousness, Seto pressed his forehead to Atem’s. He felt a ripple, a strange tear, open in his chest. It caused him no pain, maybe a small amount of panic. But he’d only felt this when he was young, before the orphanage, held in loving arms. Kaiba felt hyperaware of the arms wrapped around his waist.  

Atem opened his eyes, and Seto felt it again, but stronger this time. They took a rare moment, their eyes catching. Atem chuckled, very slowly, very carefully. “I feel… lightheaded. Is that normal?”

Kaiba scowled. “Why would you ask me?”

Atem leaned in, connecting their lips again. Seto did not pull away. There was fire in his veins. Atem’s voice was so crisp and clear. It was a dream. It had to be.

“This is not a dream,” Seto confirmed aloud. Atem shook his head, Seto feeling his skin rub back and forth on his forehead.

“No.”

Kaiba pulled away, leaving Atem standing alone. “We crossed a line.”

Atem’s gaze burned into him. “Yes.”

“What happens now.”

Atem’s eyes rolled this time, but not in a condescending way. As if they rolled back on their own. “Now, we… by Ra, wine never made me so faint before.”

“What?”

Atem shook his head, and his pupils went wide. He clutched his forehead. “I...”

Seto watched Atem try to gather his footing, and his eyes fluttered back again. He didn’t think, he just lunged forward, and Atem’s limp body was in his arms. Hishands lifted the fading Game King from the ground before he could crash into the concrete. Atem’s eyes closed and the color drained from his face.

“I…”

Seto barely heard Mokuba, Yuugi, and Anzu rush from the stairwell. He didn’t bother to process how they were there so quickly. He just held Atem in his arms, and everything else fell away.


“All vitals are normal.”

“Blood pressure is low.”

“Does he have any conditions?”

“Does he speak Japanese?”

Seto wanted to throw the nurse’s clipboard at her face. He felt Mokuba’s hands on his arm. He must have twitched.

“He speaks Japanese, yes,” Yuugi said, his voice extremely fatigued and his eyes darkened underneath, “And he’s very healthy. He never even gets a cold.” Yuugi-tachi had slept, collectively, a mere few hours. Seto had been up, pacing the ICU, all night.

Atem hadn’t stirred 24 hours. His coma was severe. He looked as if he were sleeping, breathing fine on his own, but nothing would wake him. The doctors poked, prodded, pulled him, and pestered Yuugi for information. They were starting to ask things Yuugi wasn’t prepared to answer.

“We need his documentation if he’s going to stay here.”

“Any proof of insurance you can provide for him?”

“Any allergies we need to know?”

“Are you his twin brother? Oh… your hair is so similar!”

Yuugi answered their questions, and promised documents he did not have. Seto decided to leave the hospital for a few days, arrange some things, clear his head. The thought he’d been ignoring since the ex-Pharaoh went limp in his grasp filled his head like smoke: Was this my fault? He almost shoved Jou through a window for the look he shot at the CEO as he walked out the hall wordlessly, his brother on his heels.


When he entered the front doors of the hospital three days later, the voice crashed back into his mind like a train wreck.

“When this is over, you’ll be gone for good.”

He almost dropped the precious manilla folder gripped in his hand. It faded in and out, like radio static, but it was Atem. He was talking, and it wasn’t just the memories in his head. He did his best not to run into the room.

“There’s no change, Kaiba. They don’t have any ideas.” Anzu reported from the hallway. Seto frowned at her as she turned and took her seat next to a pale-faced Yuugi. Her blue eyes darted around the room fiercely, as if waiting to bark at the next doctor for answers.

“Dark Magician!”

Kaiba shook his head as if a fly had annoyed him. He stood rooted to the floor. Jou had seen him, his brown eyes wide and angry. As much as a fist fight might distract him, he ignored the stare and kept completely still.

“Where’s the doctor?”

Anzu looked surprised. “I haven’t seen him. But the nurse station is open, over there.”

Her eyes followed two Kaiba brothers approach the counter, and hand over the thick folder, talking low. Mokuba caught her eye and gave her a tired smile.


After the 7th day, Isis came, alone. She wore her loose skirts and the gold in her hair, and she greeted Kaiba with a friendly bow as she did with the rest of the gang. Everyone entered the room after she said her hellos.

“And you say he simply went unconscious standing upright?”

Seto crossed his arms across his chest as Yuugi answered, “Out like a light.”

“In the middle of a sentence, too!” Mokuba added. Isis moved to hover her hands over Atem’s still body. Seto saw Yuugi mirror his flinching reaction to the movement; she was the one who put his soul in the body, who was to say she couldn’t remove it?

“Well, rich-boy, you got what you always wanted, eh?”

“Jou, give it a rest,” Anzu groaned.

“No! Kaiba is the last person to see Atem before this happens, I bet he has something to do with it.”

“Back off, Jou, my brother helped Atem! He would never want to hurt him.”

“You know why we can’t believe that,” Otogi followed, crossing his arms.

Isis’ brow furrowed. “Enough!” She stood tall and stared deeply into Seto’s eyes. “I need to speak with Yuugi and Kaiba. Privately.”

Everyone in the room froze and stared at him. Seto shifted his crossed arms and scowled.

“Why me?”

“Let’s go, guys,” Anzu said, shoving Jou out. Honda, Otogi, Ryou, and Mokuba were close behind, with Mai closing the door on their way out.

“Why you?” Isis said, her tone strained, “Because you were there, and undoubtedly, you are connected to his disappearance.”

Kaiba was surprised to hear Yuugi speak, quick to defend. “Isis, Kaiba wasn’t doing anything to cause Atem to—”

“And yet, he stayed to speak to us, Yuugi,” she said, “He knows something.”

Kaiba watched Yuugi mouth open, then close, and turned to him with wide eyes. Seto’s body felt aflame from the worry with that stare. Yuugi may be privy to the world of sharing minds, but there was no way or reason for him to know Seto’s. Even if he did suspect what the tall brunette knew, it was none of his business either way. Maybe he was bitter about Yuugi spying with his dork girlfriend and Mokuba on the fire escape of the mutt’s house. Maybe he was angry Yuugi even suggested the party in the first place. Damnit, the whole thing was a straight fiasco, a mistake from the beginning, I should have never let—

Atem's scream ripped through his head like an alarm. His entire body seized at the noise, as he almost leapt to the unconscious man’s side. Isis and Yuugi both stared at him.

“Kaiba?” Isis asked.

He wanted to bite his tongue. “It was nothing.” He avoided her prying gaze.

“If you have something to help, now would be the time to speak,” Isis’ eyes lowered, “You, after all, have just as deep a connection to the Pharaoh as Yuugi does.”

Seto huffed. “I get so tired of repeating myself. There is no Fate, there is no destiny, and there’s no connection of us from the past. I don’t know what you want from me.” The strange look in Yuugi’s eyes - something like a mix of surprise, disappointment, and maybe a gleam of regret - made his stomach roll violently.

“If that is true, Kaiba, then explain how you accept Atem as a part of your life today. Years ago, you said the Pharaoh was just another Yuugi that helped him defeat you. Today, once an ancient spirit, he lives and breathes alongside you.”

Again, Kaiba’s tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth.

“Why did you look at him like that?” Yuugi’s voice, who had just defended him, was begging for a reason to trust Kaiba. There was a pause. He felt their eyes burn holes into the sides of his head.

“…I can hear him.”

Isis looked surprised.

“You can hear his voice?” Yuugi jumped on the idea.

“As a memory, perhaps?”

“No,” Kaiba said, “I can hear him as if he were speaking in this room.”

“Is it loud? Clear in your mind?”

“No,” Kaiba barked, “It’s echoing. Like he’s in a tunnel.”

Yuugi looked hopeful, but Isis’ expression turned dark. “That means he’s still in there somewhere, right?”

“I’m afraid not, Yuugi,” she replied, “Someone has taken him to the Shadow Realm.”

Both Yuugi and Kaiba flinched.

“What???”

“How is that possible?”

Isis floated towards the Pharaoh, the gold in her hair and clothes glinting in the low hospital lights. “If my research proves right against your recollections of the Memory World, where the Pharaoh defeated the Great Demon Zorc, it could explain what is happening.”

She went over the details of the final battle, Kaiba and Yuugi’s memories against her findings of the museum. It seemed like mere minutes clashed with hours, and once an expression of realization hit Isis, he wondered how long they had been deliberating. His backache gave him an idea.

“It’s true, then,” she murmured, “Zorc and the Thief King combined their souls together, creating the soul you may know that has possessed your friend, Ryou Bakura, in the past. Zorc also sealed a piece of himself in the Millennium Puzzle. The contents of the puzzle - that is, the soul of the Pharaoh - was transferred into the body of our Pharaoh when he defeated Yuugi in the Ceremonial Battle.”

“And now?” Yuugi asked nervously.

“When the Pharaoh came to this new world, I found him a bare vessel to house his soul for the remainder of this life. However, as with any blank vessel, his soul was not born into it due to the natural course of Fate. Because it was bound instead of birthed, the soul is not as firmly attached as it could be.”

“That’s the past, we can’t change that,” Seto snapped, “What is happening now?”

“Now, the Pharaoh may be locked in battle with the other spirit, the piece of Zorc, that hid in the Millennium Puzzle, for control over this modern body.”

Another uncomfortable, chilling silence fell upon them.

“How do we help?” Yuugi asked.

Isis turned to the expectant blue eyes glued to her. “It seems you are our only connection, Kaiba. You can hear the Pharaoh’s thoughts, despite his disappearance.”

“How is that possible?” Yuugi questioned. Isis shook her head.

“The bonds of Fate are stronger than I can ever know.”

Seto’s stomach churned angrily at the word.


Yuugi-tachi did not take to their only connection to Atem’s state very well. Jou was enraged, and also chose to remain in the hall. It took a hassled-looking Otogi and Honda to drag him outside for a cool off session. Yuugi sighed heavily.

“He’s worried, and that’s just how he shows it,” he said. Kaiba snorted, and avoided a murderous glance from Anzu.

Another half a week went past slower than the previous days. Every moment, someone was harassing him. “Have you heard anything?” “What’s he saying?” “Do you think he’s winning?” “The fuck are you hiding from us, rich boy?!”

Mokuba had been fighting them off, hoping to give his brother some much needed sleep. Seto wouldn’t have closed his eyes for a moment. If he missed something, would he forgive himself?

The lack of sleep wasn’t his main problem. Now, he was getting confused on what was memory, what would reveal Atem’s condition, and what was real. Sleep, he may miss something. Sleep, and he may hear things that he can’t bear to hear anymore.

“… Devil’s Sanctuary, I win…”

“Mind Crush!”

“… but, this is far from over…”

It was all his voice, it was all there, but sifting through what was already in his head and what was being broadcast across realms, was enough to make Kaiba want to tear off his head and leave it with someone else for a while. The white of the hospital no longer bothered his sensitive eyes, the antiseptic smell was long engrained in his clothes, he had the nurse's schedule memorized. His automated responses were barely noticeable.

“Nii-san…”

That was a new one. When did Atem ever call him that?

Nii-san… Nii-san…”

“Nii-san!”

Kaiba lurched out of his seat. “Mokuba!”

The younger brother sighed harshly. “Seto, why haven’t you been trying to sleep?”

“I… I can’t, with all this KaibaLand work to do.”

Mokuba had all the papers from Kaiba’s lap in his hand - he made this obvious by holding it up and waving it. “You barely noticed when I took it from you two hours ago.”

Seto sighed and covered his face with his palm. “Mokuba, I just need to be distracted.”

“No, you think you can’t sleep to make sure you don’t miss something.”

Seto leapt up from his seat. “Goddamnit, is it written on my forehead?!” His shoulders sank at Mokuba’s frightened expression. “… I’m sorry, Moki, I just…”

“It’s not the first time I’ve seen you sleep-deprived,” Mokuba said grimly, “I’m just better equipped to help.”

Mokuba set the papers away from his brother and sat next to him in a chair, motioning for Seto to sit on the floor. The elder Kaiba nervously fluttered his eyes towards the door.

“They all went for burgers a few minutes ago. No one else is here.”

It was a wonder why Seto even ran KaibaCorp anymore - his brother was so intuitive, the best mind reader of them all; he was much better with people. Seto gave him a small, gracious smile. He sat down on the floor, his lower back protesting fiercely with a few twinges. He cringed as he tried to keep his back perfectly straight.

“Here, use this.” Mokuba handed Seto the pillow from the nursing staff. He set it under his behind, and that soothed the twinge a little. Mokuba dug his fingers into Seto’s back and the elder brother almost melted instantly. His eyes closed and rolled to the back of his skull. The rustle of his clothes under his brother’s fingers was the only thing he wanted to focus on.

_________________

He didn't mean to fall asleep, but he knew he was dreaming. 


As if he were lying on the ground, he could see up through a thick forest of trees. Soft sunlight shone above the treetops; it felt like a wonderful spring day. The green pines were bright and healthy, and the ground was a rich, fluffy brown, full of life. The leaves beneath him were soft. The birds sang and a few insects chirped, but otherwise there was a gentle quiet around him.

He knew the roots of the trees were wrapping around his limbs, slowly, but with increasing force. He couldn't panic. The forest was too serene. He felt so tired, so quiet. Nothing else could touch him but the firm, reddish brown roots, green with moss. They squeezed his arms and legs, around his chest, pinned his hands, curled around his ankles. He felt the root ends wiggle in between his fingers, the smell of fresh earth in his nose.

But it wasn't ripe earth he could smell, no. It was the scent of someone, a person, he knew. It was new, something that sparked a very recent memory. The roots between his fingers squeezed his palm, as if to reassure him. He moved his head to the side, feeling the soft leaves under his cheek crinkle against his skin. The scent bloomed in his nose again. He inhaled deeply.

I’ve been waiting for you, nefer.”

Atem's tongue pressed against his ear. Seto moaned.

The thick roots curled around his chest and then hooked on his hip, slithering between his thighs. They squeezed, happily brushing the tall brunette's groin through his trousers. He could feel the rough bark.

“Can you feel me?”

Seto's voice came out hoarse. "Yes." Atem laughed. It echoed through the trees.

“Are you sure?”

"I want you." Seto couldn't remember being so forthcoming in his entire life.

“Oh, I want you too.” The roots smoothed out, retracting like scales, almost machine-like, and a flesh hand took the place of the roots between Seto's fingers. He was pushed further through the dirt. The earth pressed against his eyes and ears, and he had to hold his breath. But he was calm. The soft leaves brushed along his neck and hair. 

“Seto, would you be sad?”

No, Seto wanted to say. I don't want to be sad about you. He could only groan at the warmth digging inside him, pushed through the soil like a seed.

"About what?"

Atem sighed heavily. “If I was buried deep in the earth forever?”

The thought was revolting. There was a few rocks in the soil, and Seto had to do everything to avoid catching them in his mouth. He growled.

"No. I would follow you."

Atem let out a noise that was halfway between a laugh and a painful cry.

“I can’t let the worms have you too.”

Something crawled into Seto's mouth. He opened his mouth to scream, and jolted upright. The dream disappeared inside the white of the hospital; stark, clean, and dim. Seto stretched out on his makeshift cot and rolled to his side. Atem's pallid skin shone under the night light above his hospital bed. His eyelids were firmly closed. Seto couldn't bring himself to sleep again for the rest of the night.


Strange dreams peppered Seto’s mind for the next few days. He couldn’t remember some, others were so vivid, he’d wake crying or shouting or close to vomiting. It was one of those nights.

The world was shrouded in darkness, as if the sky was covered in black silk sheets. The wind was low but bone-chillingly cold, and then there were the dunes - endless hills of sand, rolling into the abyss, long shadows cast on the pale yellow grains. The moon was missing, Seto noticed. He wondered where the light was coming from. He was bad with dream logic.

There was strange tinkling in the wind, like chimes, and Seto looked closely to see if it was hanging off of a dead tree sprouting from the horizon. Instead, a gleam in the distance caught his eye. He focused on it, and it twinkled again. There was something moving in the shadows of the dunes, something billowing like a flag or a cloud of smoke. The sky trembled with a wave of the silk sheets.

The twinkle turned into an upright figure, either a short man or a woman. It was covered in a cloak of the finest silk to match the cover of the sky, and it was walking towards him. A set of footprints was left behind, definitely human, and the wind whipped the cloak to balloon behind them, as if to dance with the cloth. The figure drew closer, closer than Seto felt it should, for a feeling in his stomach didn't sit right. Once the figure was close enough, Seto opened his mouth to shout. Nothing came out.

The hood of the soft cloak fell from the figure's face. At first, it was a pearly white skull, with gaping black eyes and bared teeth. Then muscles, nerves, and skin grew on the skull, blood filling the veins. Eyelids covered the skull’s blank stare, and when hair sprouted at the root, dyed three colors and whipped in the wind, Seto knew it was Atem. But when his eyes opened, they were glassy, a dull maroon, a remnant of their past glory. Seto was instantly angered.

"Wake up!" he shouted, but the wind swallowed it. Atem turned his head to listen, but his eyes still held no focus. He looked dead, his skin the color of his hospital room.

"Wake up, you idiot!"

Atem looked back at him, through him. Seto was having none of it. He stomped up to the top of the dune that Atem had paused, their footsteps trailing towards each other, and the dune became slippery as ice. The sand swallowed his feet, the grains unable to support his weight. Seto slid back down on his feet to where he started. He growled.

"What the fuck do I do?!" he shouted, despite not even hearing himself, "What do you need to come back?!"

Atem arched his face up towards the sky, his body not casting a shadow on the pale dunes. The wind picked up slightly, tossing his cloak gently. The trees groaned, the chiming becoming more of a vibration in the ground. There was a terrifying scream, not of terror but triumph maybe? Seto curled a handful of pale sand  into his fingers and threw it at Atem. It felt cold as ice, and was blown back into his face. Seto suddenly felt soaked to the bone, freezing.

"Atem, answer me!"

At the sound of his name, the former Pharaoh seemed to regain a bit of recognition in his eyes. He looked back down to Seto. The brunette clenched his teeth against the cold.

"You heard me! Come back!"

The spiked hair fluttered in the wind. Seto remembered how soft it felt in his hands, how warm the back of his neck was, how firm his lips felt against his own. The eyes were focused on him.

"Wake up, damnit! You have too much to answer for!"

Atem reached out an arm from the cloak, in his trance. His voice came out songlike, echoing across the frozen desert landscape. Seto teared up at the sound.

“... Mind Crush!”

The cover in the sky was cut from its tethers and wrapped itself around Seto, tight as a snake, suffocating as water. He choked as the sheet forced its way into his windpipe. He couldn’t breathe.


"Watch out!!"

He lurched from the dream for the third time that week. He was drenched in water, freezing, and gasping for air. The first thing he saw was his little brothers grey eyes, close to tears. He felt warm hands on his shoulders. He realized the floor was inches from his face.

"Seto are you awake?"

He gasped for a moment. Water dripped from his hair. "Yes."

There was a collective sigh. Seto's eyes snapped to Yuugi and Anzu, who were on each side of him. He struggled against Mokuba's hold, but found himself so weak he could barely move.

"You were talking in your sleep." Mokuba said. "You took the ice bucket and threw it towards the ceiling. I couldn't wake you up." His voice cracked.

Seto knew what he'd said in his sleep. He knew everyone in the room heard him. He hoped he didn't sound as pathetic as he did in his dream.

"... I'm sorry, Mokuba."

His brother hoisted him up and helped him back into one of the hospital chairs. Someone handed him a thin towel, and it was draped over his shoulders. His eyes fell directly on the immobile form of Atem. The dream flickered before his eyes.

"Kaiba." He tried not to growl at the sound of Yuugi's voice. "Did he say-?"

"No."

Anzu frowned with a crease in her brow. "Anything could be important. Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Kaiba snapped.

“By the way you were shouting in here, he must have said something!”

“Back off, cheerleader."

Even Mokuba's expression made him want to crawl further into a hole and just die.

"Boys, could I have a moment with Kaiba please?" The tone in Anzu's voice was anything but polite. Mokuba looked stubborn to move from his brother’s side, but Yuugi gave him an encouraging tug on his arm. The two shorter boys left the room. Anzu's blue eyes followed them out with a soft, understanding glimmer. Once the door shut, she whipped her head towards Seto and face turned hard.

"Now is not the time to be full of shit, Kaiba."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Wow, your friendship speeches have grown up a bit, Mazaki."

She marched up to him, and he didn't even have the energy to stand up and meet her gaze, a few inches higher where he felt more in control.  He must’ve looked like hell from Anzu's perspective, the bags under his eyes felt like gaping holes.

"I’ve wanted to say this to you for years, Kaiba, but fuck you. Fuck friendship, fuck feelings, and especially fuck that empty pit you call your heart. You don’t care about Atem at all."

"What’s this about?" Kaiba sneered, "You feeling bad for your boyfriend because he's not the chosen one this time?"

Anzu's face screwed into a dark glare. "That’s low, even for you.”

"It's not my fault he's jealous."

There was a pause, and Anzu's sky-blue eyes almost watered. Kaiba was speaking without meaning any words that came out of his mouth, where he was usually most comfortable. But every word that came out hurt, ached, like he just bit his tongue on accident. He didn’t care if Anzu cried, he didn’t care if he was wrong about Yuugi, he didn’t care about anything except hearing Atem’s voice.

Kaiba covered his face with one hand. His cheeks were freezing. “He said ‘Mind Crush.’”

Her expression fell. “What?”

“My dream,” Seto ground out, “That’s what he said.”

She looked confused. “I don’t know what that means.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Seto’s eyes focused on the occupied bed once again. He tried not to see the body lying there, breathing on his own, but nowhere near where he was supposed to be. He heard Anzu’s feet tap across the room, and then she sat down right beside him. He felt the skin on his arms leap into gooseflesh. The anger burning in her felt like it was touching him, and he’d forgotten the last time he felt so sensitive to the others around him. He waited for her to scream into his ear, but the room was silent. Then she took his hand.

“I’m sorry.”

He looked at her. Her eyes were full of tears. If it were five minutes ago, he would have yanked his hand away, hissed at her touch. But she was warm. He wasn’t thinking straight.

“This has been hardest on you, out of all of us.” She sniffled. He definitely wasn’t thinking straight, because for a moment, he could see why Yuugi thought so highly of her. “Yuugi accepted the pain of being apart from him. He was ready to lose Atem to the duel, to say goodbye forever. But you… I don’t know if you were as ready as he was. But Atem stayed! He stayed behind to be with us. We brought him home, and everything was normal again. That’s what we thought, anyway.”

Seto couldn’t understand why he hadn’t shoved her away. He was mesmerized by her voice. She kept his gaze. Her hand gripped his so hard, it was starting to throb.

“After a while, he lost interest in most things. He couldn’t even keep up during a chess game, and he refused to touch his deck. Yuugi was freaking out. We thought he regretted his decision. Then you started calling.”

Seto snorted, and Anzu jumped a little, as if she forgot he was there. “What does any of this have to do with me?”

“Kaiba,” Anzu almost laughed, “You can’t be so thick. We all saw it on that rooftop; Atem feels something deeply for you. You want to know what Yuugi said when he saw everything?”

If Seto hadn’t been so sleep deprived, he might have been distracted by the anger of being watched by them in one of the most intimate moments of his life. But he hung on her words.

“He said, ‘That’s why he stayed. Atem stayed for him.’”

It seemed impossible, firm and unwaveringly impossible, for that to be real. But Seto acknowledged it. Somehow, deep in his frozen heart, he recognized her words as truth. The warmth spread through him, slowly. He looked down at their hands, and pulled his from hers. The defeat in her eyes dripped down her cheeks, tears hitting the arm of her chair.

“Kaiba?” She choked on his name. He did not meet her gaze, his cerulean eyes moving slowly to the bed across the room. The shadows danced along the corners of the ceiling, laughing around the former Pharaoh’s grey body. His hair was shiny with grease, unwashed for a days. His chest rose, then fell, rose, then fell again. The clock tapped many times between each breath. Seto tried to take a deep breath of his own. His lungs felt like they were made of ash.

He stood, and his knees buckled. He didn’t realize it, but he held Anzu’s shoulder to steady himself. Tears streamed down her face. Seto took the long steps across the room, feeling like he was gliding along ice, his lungs burning with each stride. He found his legs bedside to Atem. He didn’t hear Yuugi peak his head in the room. He didn’t hear his footsteps join Anzu’s side. He didn’t hear her quiet him. He didn’t feel their gazes on his back.

All he could hear, see, feel, was Atem’s still body. The emptiness was obvious on the King of Games’ face, as if someone had sucked out the life from his very mouth. A wave of regret fell over Seto’s limbs. This is my fault. The warmth from Anzu’s words washed over him again, and he couldn’t deny he believed her. Without thinking, he touched Atem’s shoulder. It felt like cold layer of armor was protecting his skin. It wasn’t the same warmth as his hands around that lean waist, their lips pressed firmly together, or their foreheads connecting each thought.

The memory of their foreheads touching surged under Seto’s skin, as if it were new blood rushing through his veins. That touch was the last thing he felt, before... “I feel… lightheaded…”

Atem said. That touch sent him into danger. Seto ached to pull away. “I… I want…” His voice, the lowest tones that rumbled over his mind, soothed away dreams, cured the darkness, was distant.

I can hear you.

Atem’s breathing paused for a moment. Seto saw it. He screwed his eyes shut. He was so tired.

Come back.

Seto leaned forward and pressed his clammy head against Atem’s pale skin. The tear he felt before, the panic of letting himself open up in the slightest, opened wider. He felt the sensation of falling, and the familiar black silk sheet wrapped itself around him.


It took a moment for him to recognize the scene, but he saw Atem, and the cloudy darkness of the Shadow Realm, and the Dark Magician. He saw a dark-skinned figure with jutting white teeth, and glowing red eyes. A blinding white light illuminated the room. He heard the gravelly voice scream, just like in his dream, but in absolute pain.

“Impossible!!”

But Atem’s voice was clear. “As I said, Zorc. You will lose, because your loved ones will never come for you at your darkest hour!”

The demon roared amongst the sound of explosions. “Make no mistake, Pharaoh. With or without your idiot friends, I will have that body!”

Seto was still blind, but he could feel Atem’s smirk. “Tell that to my Blue-Eyes.”

Seto felt a roar burst from his chest; it was the familiar cry of his beloved dragon. There was a tremble that rattled his concentration, a blast of fire and light, and the sound of Zorc’s screams. There was the calm rustle of Atem’s clothes, as if he were standing, and the image of his arm outstretched towards his opponent, one burned into Seto’s mind for all eternity, rose before him. His crimson eyes were almost glowing. His face was splattered with blood. His expression was firm, focused, unyielding. It was beautiful.

“Once and for all, I will crush out the darkness of your heart!” The light and smoke cleared from the battlefield, which looked like a chess board, with monsters alive and snarling in battle. Floating there was his magnificent Blue-Eyes White Dragon, it’s teeth curled towards the mangled lump of black char that remained of Zorc.

“What’s unfortunate for you…” Atem smiled darkly, “Is that there is nothing in your heart but darkness.”

The words went unspoken. Atem squeezed his fingers, the room rattled violently, and Zorc shrieked. The black sheet of darkness whirled, encompassing the room, blinding Seto to all around him, and everything disappeared.


Seto opened his eyes as his breath was crushed out of him. Atem’s chest twitched with a gasp of a breath, and the red of his eyes broke between his eyelids.

“...Se…”

Seto scooped the back of his neck, cradling his head. “You’re back.”

Atem’s mouth broke into a miniscule grin. Seto couldn’t catch his breath.

“Kaiba?”

Seto whipped his head. Yuugi and Anzu, violet and blue eyes wide and glimmering, were staring at Atem’s face. Seto pulled his hands away from Atem’s body slowly, standing tall.

“He’s awake.”

“What?!” Yuugi rushed to the bed. Seto stood still as stone by his side, still locked onto Anzu’s stare.

“You brought him back,” Anzu whispered. He couldn’t move to answer her.

The room erupted into a storm. Doctors, nurses, Yuugi-tachi, all flooded into the room with shouts and questions and charts. Seto felt his brother’s hands on his, his vision blurred by the white coats and green scrubs, and he was led from the room slowly.


Even Yuugi had been kicked out of the room, and they were standing in the hall, Anzu drying her face with a rough napkin from the coffee table. Mai was rubbing her shoulders, and Jou paced back and forth, elbowing Honda every time he passed. Otogi and Ryou sat shoulder to shoulder, murmuring. Mokuba sat beside his brother, who had his eyes closed. He didn’t want to look at anything.

“What the hell happened in there?” Honda asked.

Yuugi looked to Seto, eyes wide. “He just woke up,” he said.

Anzu wiped a tear from her eye. “He came back to us.”

Seto sighed and felt his brother’s hand on his shoulder. Everyone was looking at him. He took a deep breath.

“Isis was right. Zorc tried to take his body.”

It was all they needed to hear.

“I knew he’d make it!” Jou walked up to Seto, put a large palm on his shoulder, “You’re lucky. Now I don’t have to kick your ass.” Kaiba tried not to, but he couldn’t help it. He smirked and rolled Jou’s hand off his shoulder.

They all collapsed into their chairs with a deep sigh.

Within the hour, the doctor had emerged and shook Yuugi’s hand. He walked over to Seto to do the same, but the fierce blue glower he received had him retreat back to the nice looking, violet-eyed boy who was listed as the patient’s cousin. He announced Atem was stable, awake, and would need one more night for observation. He had a manilla file in his hand, which he gave to Yuugi. The doctor bowed, Yuugi thanked him for the hundredth time, and they were alone in the hall again.

Mokuba stood, stretching out his back. “I think Seto and I are going home to freshen up.”

Again, Seto silently thanked his brother for reading his mind so well.

“Yeah, you probably need a nap more than any of us, Kaiba.” Mai smiled at him. Yuugi and Anzu couldn’t stop staring at him.

Seto stood, straightening out his sleeves. “Yuugi, don’t lose those papers. They’re official copies, but I don’t feel like making you another set.”

“What are they?” Yuugi asked.

“His birth certificate, health insurance papers through KaibaCorp, his proof of citizenship and immigration record. Figured it was appropriate he was born in Egypt.” He secretly enjoyed the incredulous looks he was getting from the entire crowd. “I’ll be giving you the copies of his tax papers and employment record after he’s discharged.”

No one moved for a few moments. Jou’s face was the color of a cherry. Yuugi nodded.

“How did you get Atem on KaibaCorp Insurance?” Anzu asked.

Seto did everything in his power to keep a straight face. “He’s listed as an employee.”

“Woah, I’ve never seen any employee get treatment like that! Gotta get me a job,” Otogi laughed.

Mokuba’s eyes shifted up to his brother with that annoying little glint. “Yeah, come to think of it, our employee insurance usually wouldn’t cover all of a two week stay in the ICU…” He smirked with a hand on his chin. Seto noticed Anzu’s eyes perk up, but the rest of the dork squad was oblivious.

“I made an exception. I am CEO, remember?” Seto responded shortly. Mokuba just laughed.

“I promise, I’ll keep it safe,” Yuugi smiled, his face full and bright again, “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done.” He held up the papers, and Anzu plucked them from his hands. Seto tried to resist the sweat pooling on his lower back.

“If you geeks are finished harassing me, I have work to attend to before tomorrow,” he sneered, turning on his heel and walking out of the hall. Mokuba gave a thumbs up to Yuugi-tachi and ran after him.

Jou snarled once they were out of earshot. “That prick can’t have feels for Atem; he can’t even take a thank you! Whatta jerk.”

Honda patted his friend’s shoulder. “He’ll warm up to you, Jou - eventually.”

They all laughed except for Anzu. She had her eyes glued to the paperwork.

“What is it, Anzu?”

She snapped her head up to him, blue eyes wide with shock. He was getting worried - was there a mistake? Were they going to find out?

“It makes sense, to get that kind of reaction from all the doctors,” Anzu said, a small grin tugging on her lips, “The insurance papers have Atem listed… as Kaiba’s spouse .”

__________________________________

 

The next day, surprisingly, everything went according to plan. Atem was successfully discharged from the hospital, cleared by all doctors and considered a miracle. (“Yeah, but they always say that,” Mokuba laughed.) Yuugi-tachi showed up to help the former king of Egypt home, with a fresh change of clothes and bright chattering faces to welcome him back. Atem looked tired, but full of color again.

When the doctors shooed the friends from the room except Yuugi and Seto, Yuugi willingly left the room. Seto did not want to deal with this now. He hadn’t slept at all since Atem woke; he was sleep-deprived and seeing double.

Atem emerged from the restroom, looking back to his old self in black leather pants and a sleeveless top.  He’d been mulling around Seto as if he were just a piece of furniture. The tall brunette stopped his heart from squeezing uncomfortably at the thought.

“Seto.”

Blue eyes met crimson. Seto never felt so frozen. But Atem was in front of him, extremely close, looking up, broad hands reaching for his own.

Atem leaned up, kissed him briskly, soundlessly. Seto froze to his spot on the linoleum floor.

“I’m not sure a thank you covers this.”

“… It was nothing.”

Atem shook his head. “You risked much for me. There was no telling if your soul would have been pulled in too, or you could have been caught with the fake documents, or worse.”

“I said it was nothing.”

With a weak smile, Atem clasped his jacket around his shoulders. “Of course.” He turned to walk out the hospital room door, the bustle outside of nurses and patients and doctors beckoning them.

“Atem.”

The ex-Pharaoh turned his shining red eyes back on him. Seto shimmied his courage up his spine.

“Why did that wake you up?”

Atem blinked. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Why did that touch bring you back?”

Atem’s face lit up. “Well,” he grinned as Seto moved closer, like a suspicious cat warming up to another, “As much as you fight it, or deny it, our souls are intertwined. Whether that is from our past or our present, I can’t say for sure.”

For a moment, Seto regretted asking it. He did not want to think he was part of Atem’s ancient past. He didn’t want that dead priest taking over his life; today was all that mattered. Today was the day Atem woke up. Today was the day Atem walked out of the hospital. Seto sighed, and reached out to grab Atem’s hand. He leaned in, and rested their foreheads together. Nothing happened, other than a strong warmth spreading through his every limb. He was starting to like that feeling.

“So, do I have to change my last name?”

Seto burned bright red and jerked away his head as Atem laughed. He growled loudly, “I’ll annul it before you can even think about it.”

Atem waggled his finger. “You’ll have to defeat me at Duel Monsters before I let that happen.”

The taller man grasped Atem’s shoulders and smashed their lips together to shut him up.


Anzu smiled with a distant look on her eyes as they all exited the building. Atem was bombarded by Yuugi-tachi, Joey draping his arm over his shoulders, Mai straightening out his clothes, and Honda warning him never to bail on them like that ever again. It wasn’t obvious to the naked eye, but Seto was hovering around Atem much closer than ever before. His eyes were cloudless and clear – he’d catch the King of Games again if he ever fell.

Yuugi noticed, and softly bumped her side with his elbow. “What are you smiling about?” he teased.

She shrugged, a shy look gracing her eyes. “I just remembered seeing Kaiba catch Atem on the rooftop. The way Kaiba held onto him, the look on his face …” she giggled, “Don’t tell them I said this, but it was like the prince and Sleeping Beauty.”

“Hm… I’m not so sure.” Anzu was surprised; it was not like Yuugi to disagree with her. “I think he looked more like a knight who had just lost his king.”

She blushed, looking back at Kaiba walking beside Atem, his hands itching to wrap around those broad shoulders of the ancient Pharaoh, as they walked out the back of the hospital.

She grinned. “Now the kingdom is right again.”

Yuugi chuckled and put his arm around her waist.

THE END

 

 

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