Noah knew he was dead.

It was the only thing he knew forsure, now. He couldn't feel, he couldn't see, smell, hear ... and yet he still was. He was here, but he was gone. But still something.

It was a frightening sensation. But he did his best to ignore it, because really, what was more frightening than dying willingly and falling into what was next?

He looked around – well, he thought he did. Noah couldn't be sure of anything, here. Wherever "here" was. He guessed the afterlife. How disappointing. A place where you could search all you wanted, but there was nothing. But there was, as well, and it frustrated him that he couldn't understand it.

He was avoiding someone. A voice Noah couldn't really hear called out to him, told him to wake up and follow him through the door.

"No, Father." Who is Father? "Leave me be."

There were arms opened to him, beckoning him, even begging for him to follow them to another place. But Noah knew he couldn't. It would be wrong, after everything that had happened.

"We can be together, Noah. I was wrong, I-I swear to you. Come here, now!"

"I don't believe you. Just go! Go!"

He didn't know why he was telling Father to go, but he must have been fierce about it, because the presence faded away, still begging, until he was alone again. All he knew was that he couldn't go away, not with him. It would be unbearable for both. So he would stay here. He still couldn't decide where here was.

Just as he was about to accept his purgatory (what else could he do, after all?), he felt a sharp, sudden jolt, and found himself lying on the floor, in a room. A real, tangible room, with four walls and a floor.

It was a start, a least. Noah stood up, rubbing his eyes and looking around.

What an odd place. So big and empty. How he had gotten here, and why, were lost on him. He had an idea about brothers and fathers, but no faces or names. There was no past, or present. Everything Noah knew, he felt for a moment, before it slipped away again and he looked around the room in confusion, until he knew it again and the cycle continued.

After some time had passed (he couldn't decide if it had been a minute or a year), Noah noticed the man standing at the room's other end. The extravagant clothes and gold jewellery, he didn't understand. It was the man's face that sent a jolt of recognition through his form.

"Seto?"

The man turned around, and the face that looked back at him indeed belonged to the name he'd called. But a knot churned in Noah's stomach when he realized it didn't add up with what he had seen and done before. Seto and Mokuba had gotten away. He'd made sure of it.

He didn't question how this had come flowing back, because Seto (was it Seto?) had turned towards him, and was looking down at the boy's small form.

"... That is my name."

Slowly, haltingly, he was realizing that this couldn't be the Seto Kaiba he had known. This man was older, darker, than the Seto he had fought so hard against. "One of my names, at least."

Noah watched him for a long moment. He certainly had the same fierce gaze. It was hard to look at for very long.

"You look just like my brother."

The knowledge of that brother was fading again. But he still knew this man, so it didn't scare him when he couldn't figure out why. Whatever mattered always seemed to stay with him. The man blinked, and Noah sensed surprise.

"Do I, now? How strange." Seto glanced around the room. "I have been here a very long time. I think. It must be pure coincidence." His eyes fell on Noah again. "You know my name. I do not know yours."

"Noah." The only word that he could say that still really felt his. "What is this place?"

The man sighed heavily. "I cannot say. But I do not believe it the afterlife either of us was promised." Another long look. Noah shifted uncomfortably. "It saddens me that someone so young is waiting here as well."

The boy blinked. This man's clothes were definitely not of Noah's time – just how long had Seto been waiting here? To Noah, it already felt like a thousand years. Or maybe just a day or two.

Noah shook his head. "But I can't be waiting," he said, unsure. "If I am, I don't know what I'm waiting for."

Seto looked away, stepping away from Noah and to the middle of the little room. "My mind is not in the right place. I find myself forgetting and remembering. Perhaps it is to keep us sane in our solitude."

The new arrival already knew what he meant. Important names and events came and went; there was very little that he could keep constant. Noah wished he was his old self again – it was so hard to converse, when memories couldn't stick and nothing that seemed familiar.

He found himself approaching Seto again. The man looked down in surprise, to see Noah at his side. "I ... am also unused to people coming so close. Though why is rather clouded."

Some of Noah's education, of all things, was what was slowly bringing insight. The regalia, the outfit's style, the designs on his headdress ... Seto, clearly, was from somewhere very different than Noah's land.

How did Noah even have a thought of where he came from, when he could hardly remember his last name?

"Your clothes." he said suddenly. "It looks like ...you're ancient. Or something. Where are you from, Seto?"

Seto blinked, giving the boy another long, surprised look. "I ruled a kingdom called Egypt. Kemet. When I passed it to my son, it was a thriving place, and many more of my line were to rule after."

That explained it. Noah wasn't even surprised, only nodding his head and looking at the wall. A Pharaoh. His stepbrother was a mighty king reincarnate, and it didn't even faze him.

"But Egyptians believed in an afterlife."

"I have not had the good fortune to reach it, yet. Perhaps it is a penance. Or," he glanced at Noah again, briefly, "maybe this is just what we get. I can never think about it long enough to know."

Even if you've been here some thousand-odd years. But Noah understood. He knew what Seto meant, young and new to this place as he was.

"What are you waiting for?"

The look in the man's eyes changed, and how sad they were surprised him. "...Sometimes I remember, sometimes ... she eludes me." Seto made a motion with his hand, and when Noah saw the walls again he almost jumped.

Hieroglyphs had appeared, under their feet, snaking up the walls to cover the ceiling. They were brightly painted, as if brand new, but somehow Noah knew that they were even less real than the walls. He didn't question it, crouching down to run his hands over the designs. They were in his subconscious but not, and by this point something like that wasn't about to bother him.

"These are my dreams of her. They fill the walls, so I can remember." Almost lovingly, Seto's fingers passed over the carving of a young woman's face. The only part of these pictures that seemed old and faded was her – and yet, she was the centre of them all.

Noah was about to ask who she was, but then his eyes caught the dragon. Another shock of recognition explained to him, without even having to open his mouth and ask.

"That's Seto's card," he said softly. "It's the one he'd always use." Standing up, he made to walk towards it before a hand grabbed his shoulder.

The sensation of someone else touching him in this in-between world was unexpected, and Noah pulled away roughly, defensive.

"Don't," was Seto's only reply. His voice didn't waver, but when Noah looked up and saw the light in his eyes, he knew it was the most real thing he had seen since he got here. "That's her. Don't."

Noah shifted uncomfortably. "... It's only a picture. A hieroglyph."

Another sigh. He looked so much older when he sighed. "This ... 'card' ... what was its name? Did it have a name? It belonged to the brother who resembles me, did it not?"

The boy glanced again at the dragon. Its (her?) eyes seemed to glitter, waiting for his answer.

"The Blue-Eyes White Dragon. I didn't see much of it, but it seemed important to him. It was only a card – a game piece – but it was almost as if they werepartners. Important to one another."

Where had this insight come from, that drained the colour from Seto's face and began to piece these hints together in Noah's mind? Had he always known these things, and did only death have a key to them? What else can I unlock? Or is this all just a fluke?

Seto's hand brushed over the girl again. On the wall, Noah caught sight of her bright blue eyes. She seemed so alive, static and painted as she was. "Your brother and I ... we seem to have more in common than our looks. This girl and the white dragon are one."

Noah could see long white hair in his mind. Pale skin, small hands, blue eyes. A gentle smile. He could only wonder if Seto saw the same.

Noah forced himself to meet his eyes. "What happened to her?"

In seconds, quickly and soundlessly, the hieroglyphs were whisked away. Once again, the two were alone in an empty room, and neither of them could really remember how or why.

Seto turned away, his robes billowing out behind him. His eyes were on the wall that had once held the dragon girl. "She died long ago. Kisara had power, – power that not even she was aware of. She used it all for my sake, and not since she left me have I felt such love for another being." The look on his face wavered between grieving and reminiscent. Or both, together. "Maybe it marks me a failed father – though I would like to disagree – but not even my children brought me the joy she did." He smiled faintly. "And Pharaohs have many children."

Noah was taken aback, and he looked around the room again, hoping, praying that he would catch Kisara's eye again. Now she had a name, and it proven to him that she had once been real. It scared him, that he couldn't understand why her loss hurt him so much.

Seto didn't seem to notice Noah, though his agitation hung thick in the room. He had eyes only for a picture, a picture of a girl that was no longer there. "I wait for her here. Whatever is on, through that door-" How had Noah not noticed the door? Painted off-white, and plain as day on the farthest wall. "-it isn't mine to have unless she can share it with me."

Noah could feel his pain, and grieved with him, because now he knew where Kisara had gone. She could not be with Pharaoh Seto, because she was bound to Kaiba, her love incarnate and the wielder of her prison.

It was not a fate that would pain her, he realized, because she was still with Seto, whether Seto and Kisara knew it or not. But here was someone who denied himself an afterlife, because he waited for her instead. But she was no longer the girl she had been.

The carvings were back, but now the girl's face looked back at him, sweet and beautiful. She was no longer a girl, he realize. She was the white dragon.

"You know something I don't." It wasn't a question. Noah looked up. Seto was expressionless, but the boy could still see everything.

"Yes. You're not going to like it."

"But how could you know her fate?" There was a current of desperation beneath his level tone. Noah swallowed hard.

"I think she still loves you," he began. What an odd time to become diplomatic. "But ... she can be nothing but the white dragon, now. She can belong to you or my brother, but as long as her card is on the mortal Earth, that is where she stays."

He understood all of it, Noah knew, even if he didn't, because not even he knew all of it as he said it.

"You could wait here forever, and she would never meet you."

A week passed in their minds, dragging on like a bad school day, before Seto could answer him. "And how can you be so sure?"

Noah felt as though he was only guessing the right answers. "Because I know she would wait for you, had she died as a human being and you had followed her."

He hadn't expected Seto to sink to the floor. Not in this place, where their emotions were stretched out and pressed into something flat and grey. It only proved to Noah just how deep Seto's love for Kisara ran. All of this waiting, all for nothing.

Seto's knuckles were white, his hands balled into fists. Noah wondered if he should reach out, help him off the floor, but decided against it when he saw the look in Seto's eyes. He stayed back, waiting for it to pass.

"I should hate you," he said flatly. "I should hate you, for what you have said. But ... I cannot hate the truth."

Noah didn't move. He waited quietly until it seemed right to reach out his hand, and help Seto off of the floor. As soon as this was done, he seemed to return to the way he had been. They could no longer see the hieroglyphs.

They were both silent for a long time. It was as if one of their number had died, though she had never really been there, not tangibly, standing in the room. Noah felt an unfamiliar, aching guilt. Like he had taken her himself.

He was almost surprised when Seto looked his way again, his eyes unreadable. "And you. Why are you waiting here?"

He asked as if none of what had happened had occurred, as if Noah had only just questioned Seto about who he was and why he was here. What did this place do to one's mind?

"I..." He looked away awkwardly, mentally tracing the lines between the tiles. (The floor had gone from sandstone, to oak, to the marble from Noah's first home.) "I was afraid, I think. Of what was next."

Seto snorted. "Afraid? There's nothing to fear from death." He gestured to the rest of the room. "Only this place that's neither alive nor dead."

Noah shifted uncomfortably. He almost wished he couldn't remember, but these memories were clear as day. Was it because they were his last?

"My father," he said finally. "He wanted me to come with him ... wanted me to forgive him." He looked up, his hands shoved into his pockets. "But I can't. Not after what he did."

Seto's eyes were still on him, but Noah saw nothing about the man's gaze that was malicious. It worried him, scared him, even. It was not one of Seto's expressions.

He was about to continue, but suddenly the only thing he could think of was Mokuba's young face, as Noah said goodbye and left him for good. Something caught in his throat and he had to turn away, his eyes squeezed shut.

"I hate this place," he snarled. "I hate what it does. I ... I ... damn it, Father ..." He sat down hard, but he felt nothing from it. There should have been a way for him to stay with his brothers. It felt so horribly unfair, to have had everything end like this.

Noah wouldn't turn to look at Seto. The petulance and temper of his old life had returned with a vengeance, and suddenly he hated this man as much as he hated his father. Just for being there, just for not knowing what he was going through ...

"Many sons have been betrayed by their fathers," Seto said suddenly. Noah was so surprised that he ignored better judgement to look over, brows furrowed.

"We seem to have that much in common. My own was greedy, power hungry. A liar. He got what he deserved."

Slowly, Noah stood up, his expression still dark, but not quite so closed.

"Did you kill him?"

Seto's eyes flashed. "He was a danger to Earth itself, a danger to the king. He killed Kisara." His words echoed in the quiet room. Sandstone floors again.

Everyone I meet has had to save the world once. "But he didn't beg you to forgive him, for the lies he told." Noah's eyes were bright, from the agitation that came with remembering. It was so hard to pull it all back. "I thought Kisara's power killed her."

The man acted as if he hadn't heard Noah, his sandals clicking on the floor as he walked to the room's middle. Seto looked down at the boy, once again carrying that expressionless look on his face.

"You had the chance to go on, even if your father – whatever he may have done to you – was there as well." Those blue eyes were cold and calculating, trying to understand Noah and his motives. As if he had missed Noah's panic from before.

The boy scowled. "I told you. I was afraid. I couldn't make myself go with him ... if only to hurt him one last time." He looked around the empty room, not really seeing it. "So I'll wait here too, with you."

Seto could almost feel pity for this small boy, who had lost everything, had been caught on the in-between's net instead. "But you have nobody to wait for."

That stung. But before Noah could agree with him, and get ready to settle in to an eternity of worse-than-nothing, a realization hit him, as real as Kisara's bright gaze. Of course there were people to wait for. Two people. How could he have forgotten them?

"You're wrong," he said. Seto blinked, his eyes on Noah again.

"I'm very rarely wrong."

Noah gave the man a long look. "My brothers. I told you before, remember?"

He could tell Seto didn't really remember. But he humoured Noah nonetheless. "What leads you to believe they will fail to go on the usual way?" He was sceptic, and he made it obvious. "We are remarkable exceptions."

To anyone else's ears, Seto would have appeared reasonable. What was stopping the Kaiba brothers from moving on with the rest of the world? Fortunately for Noah, he knew the answer. Funny how he could always find the answer here, when he needed it.

"One won't go on without the other." He forced himself to keep his gaze steady, in the wake of the man's fierce gaze. "I promise you that. And when the first one comes through, I'll meet him here, and we can wait for the third."

And then we'll go together. The door will open. The door will only open if we can be together.

That was when the pictures appeared on the walls. Not the hieroglyphs and sandstone, but framed photographs, mounted on expensive wallpaper above a mahogany floor. There were his brothers. There was Mokuba, playing chess. There was Seto, reading quietly. There were the three of them, smiling in a picture that had never really been taken.

They were gone in a flash, but Noah had still seen them all, stored them away for himself and for his brothers. He smiled. "And when they meet me, we can take you through the door."

Seto looked away, running his hand over the wall again. Noah recognized the spot where Kisara had once been carved and painted. "But I will not have met who I am waiting for."

"I don't think you will. But maybe my brother will have children, and he'll give one her card. She's safe with the Kaibas, I promise you that."

He could honestly say that he had no real idea what he was saying. He only knew, but that seemed good enough for this place. It was good enough for him.

Noah leaned against the wall, sliding to the floor and pulling his knees close to his chest. They still had a while yet to wait. Something told him that his brothers would not go down easily. He wondered if Seto would forgive him, once Noah met him here.

This Seto looked down at him again, then at the door across from them.

"You are certain you will meet them here?"

"Positive."

Another long look. "I ... will have to trust your judgement. It can be something to look forward to."

Neither would look forward to it, of course. Not because they dreaded the arrival, but because of how thoughts and memories faded in and out in this strange place. Maybe it would feel like a day, a year, even a century, before the next Kaiba joined them. It didn't matter to Noah.

If Seto could wait so long, Noah could do the same for a little bit longer.

/

A/N: Hello, all! Here's another contest oneshot, this time outlining a much stranger pairing than the last few. Nevertheless, I enjoyed writing it, as much as I hope you liked reading it. Cheers, and until next time.

Some stuff: I hope my interpretation of an "afterlife" was reasonable. Since nobody really knows what's next, it's basically a free-for-all. It seems like these two are likely to end up in a purgatory like this.

I also hope that my "fading in and out of memories" played over well, and didn't seem strange or forced. I liked writing those parts, and they made for interesting plot points. I hope you liked them, too.