Ok, let's go through the drills.
This takes place after Yami had left for the afterlife. It is important that you consider this as you read through this fic.
Prideshipping (Seto Kaiba x Yami Yugi); Scandalshipping (Seth x Atem); Slight rivalshipping (seto Kaiba x Yugi Mouto) if you squint.
Yu-Gi-Oh! belongs to Kazuki Takahashi, therefore, Zin does not own any lovely characters from that show.
This contains shonen-ai (malexmale relationship). Please do not force yourself to read it if you do not like it. Zin would not want anyone's head to explode into tiny pieces.
This is an extension of the dabbles I have written for the Fragile Balance double dabble contest. As Shadow Over Egypt had remarked, it is not clear "what the hell happened," so hopefully, this will make more sense.
Thanks Hathor and AnimesoulxD, for giving me the push needed to actually write this. Thanks everyone, for reading this and voting on FB.
And now, the fic:
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He was supposed to be happy.
Atem should be feeling nothing but contentment right now. He had everything within his grasp: his kingdom, his family, his friends.
And most of all: his High Priest, cousin, and lover.
There should be no room for regret. He was living in paradise, finally resting for eternity after several thousand years of suffering in the "other world." Yet, he was ill at ease. His nights were filled with restless sleep; his dreams were filled with voices that he faintly recognized but could not identify.
Atem's mind started to wander—his thoughts drifting listlessly as he tried to gather and put the pieces of memories together.
Atem had told Seth of this—confided in his lover—revealing every trouble that plagued his mind. Seth simply nodded, brushed his lips across Atem's, and told him not to worry.
"I will take care of it," Seth had said.
******************
The stranger came every night.
Atem could feel the man's presence, trench coat whisking behind him as he approached the bed, hot breath just inches away from Atem's face.
Every night he came, but Atem did not dare to open his eyes, for what he felt was only an illusion created by his restless mind. He knew that, yet, a part of him wanted so much to open his eyes one night and touch his lips upon the stranger's.
Atem dreamt of him. On a dragon's back the stranger would ride, flying for him—just for him. The man's blue eyes would bore into his, white coat tails whipping in the wind, as a hand reached out toward Yami. Yami, not Atem, for the stranger could only see him as one who carried the name of darkness.
The stranger's lips would part as he whispered, his voice clear despite the harsh winds, "Fl—"
Atem was awakened from his dream by a warm hand caressing his face. For a fleeting moment, his heart was hoping that hand belonged to the man of his dreams.
But alas, it was only Seth. "Bad dream?" he asked.
"No."Atem replied as the images of his dream faded away.
********************
Seth was the one that told him about his tragic past.
Atem was not Atem in his past life. He was one without a name, and he had to share a vessel with another soul. "Like a parasite," Seth had aptly remark.
His spirit was trapped in the Millennium Puzzle, and he was only summoned when needed for battle. "A slave," Seth had said.
His existence was not real.
In his past life, everything Atem owned was a borrowed item. His soul—his only possession—was in pieces, voided of its memories. According to his High Priest, the pharaoh's past friends were but strangers, attached to him only by their connection with his host. In his heart, they had placed a feigning love.
When Atem repeatedly asked Seth if he had love anyone in his past life, Seth had repeatedly responded, "Do you really think that you had loved anyone in that life, if you had swiftly left it, coming into this world carrying nothing but grief and broken memories?"
That answer, which really was not an answer, did not bother him as much as another. One time, when Atem had asked the same question again, Seth replied with, "Who would love someone that does not exist?"
Atem stopped asking that question ever since.
*******************
He was dreaming again.
Atem dreamt of him—that man who was a stranger, but not really a stranger. The man's image sent a warm rush of memories through Yami—not Atem—of colors, of duels, of battles, of friendship, of million flavors of emotion.
Yami felt as if he could taste everything.
He felt as if he could fly.
A warm tingling feeling was spreading on his back. Something was itching to sprout, begging to be awakened from its sleep.
When Yami turned around, he was surprised to find a pair of wings.
The stranger, with his white trench coat and his three headed blue eyed dragon, gave Yami a challenging smirk.
He threw a smirk back to the stranger. The familiar exchange brought another wave of memory flashing through his mind—clearer, more intense. This man was something to him. The old emotions rushed through his vein—of challenge, of wanting, of needing, of lo—
Yami frowned as he struggled to open the final piece, only to find that it was locked. What was this blue eyed stranger to him? Yami was fairly sure that he was his rival and a reliable partner in battle. However, there was something else.
What was it?
********************
"Seth."
"What is it?"
"Who did I love in my past life?" Atem asked, trying to watch the scenery outside his balcony to brace for the impact of the answer that he knew was going to come.
Shocked at repetition of this question, Seth carefully observed his lover, looking for any signs that Atem had remembered his past. Finding none, he repeated the same answer that he had given his pharaoh before, "Who would love someone that does not exist?"
But Atem did not retreat. He was determined to know—he had to know—the identity of the man in his dreams.
"I dreamt of him," Atem said, testing Seth's reactions.
Catching the second wave of shock for the day, Seth restrained himself, trying not to show his raging inner fear. Atem should not be able to remember— Seth would not let him.
He will not let Atem fly from him.
"Who?" Seth asked, feigning ignorance.
"He bores your appearance," Atem remarked. "Yet, he is not you."
"There is only one me."
"Did I love him?" Atem dropped the question that Seth had been dreading.
Searching for an answer that would not reveal too much, Seth settled with:
"He did not love you."
********************
They were taking a walk, finally stopping for a break underneath a tree that stood by a small hill, overlooking a creek. The two sat in silence, enjoying the peace and one another's company.
"How did you know?" Atem asked.
"How did I know what?" Seth was confused with the ambiguity.
"That he did not love me," the pharaoh whispered, not having strength to voice the thought any louder, afraid that the statement might be true. He turned to his lover, waiting for a response.
"Do you remember when I told you about your final duel with your host?"
"With," Atem tried to recall the now unfamiliar name. "Yugi? The duel that decides whether I belong here or in the other world?"
"Yes," Seth paused, contemplating whether or not to voice what he was going to say next.
"He was there," the high priest continued with a tone of distaste. "Watching and cheering on the sideline."
Before Atem could comment on this, Seth delivered the final blow, "It was not your name that he had voice with faith and support."
"It was the name of your host that escaped his lips."
*******************
"Fly with me," the stranger said.
The smirk faded away from Yami's face at the sounds of those words. He had waited for them for a long time.
But....
**********
"Is it necessary to erase his memories?" Mahaado asked. Finding no response from the other priest, he continued, "You can't keep him away from his past forever."
Seth's eyes flickered to the other priest. Rather than a direct response, he replied, "He can't fly without his wings."
Atem was dreaming again.
"Fly with me," the stranger said.
The smirk faded away from Yami's face at the sounds of those words. He had waited for them for a long time.
But....
"Who are you?" Yami asked desperately, but the image was fading away. "Wait for me," Yami cried out as he reached for the man. But, just as he stepped off, he stumbled onto the ground. Glancing behind him, he realized that he had no wings.
Yami turned back to the stranger. His eyes traced the tall form, white tail coat fluttering in the wind, blue eyes darkened with passion. But the image was fading away, even as Yami tried so hard to cling to it. Why was it so difficult to remember?
"Wait for me; I can't fly" Yami pleaded. Perhaps if the man stayed, he would remember.
"I can't fly."
END.