Sometimes when he was fortuitous, but especially melancholy, the world would part beneath him. The ever shining sun of the afterlife would fade, his senses taken away with it. He had gained everything and lost really nothing. The part of his life he shared with his friends was fleeting, but he was grateful for it. And it wasn't like he would never have the chance to see them again. Sometimes, though, on darker days in his mind, he pined. He missed them. As a good friend would. As someone who had grown accustomed to seeing their faces every day might. As he did.

The smiling faces of the memories he'd returned to would always be just enough, but they could never cover for or replace the presence of his so-called future friends. The one he missed the most, unfortunately, was the one it was the hardest to find.

Atem was often dropped into weird places in the world. He couldn't make out what was happening any longer, sometimes the speech was garbled and he couldn't tell what anyone was saying, and no one, of course, could see him. The Gods were forgiving and loving but they were also playful. If Atem wanted to seek out that whom he'd left behind hardest, he'd have to do a little work. Nothing ever came without it.

He'd already forgotten the path to the High School. It seemed like his best opportunities would have come from visiting the Game Shop, which he did get to on two or three occasions. Yuugi was never there, though. He always came just in time for school. Something he'd never worried too much about when he'd been using Yuugi's space- rather, Yuugi didn't let him worry. Their adventure had been more important than grades. Atem at the time hadn't been so sure, but they weren't left with much time to worry about it.

One day when he found himself scrabbling to quickly parting clouds, failing, and falling to the pavement of a busy street, it hit him. He remembered walking to the museum in Domino City from the school one day. Now if he could only backtrack his steps. And he'd have to do it fast. These encounters never lasted long enough for him to cherish them. The ringing of a bell alerted him to the fact that he was probably going to find the school in just enough time for Yuugi to have already left.

Or to have disappeared in a crowd of faceless people. The sense of urgency propelled Atem's ghostly feet faster until he facetiously believed his lungs were burning with the need for air. Some physical senses when so set into his body he'd never forget. The school was daunting as he approached it, students leaving in droves, passing through him without realization. He didn't have time for them.

Instead he stood around looking for the hair that so closely resembled his own. The only marking he knew he'd have. His bond with Yuugi, the one comforting presence he'd held on to as a spirit, had been long since severed. Otherwise he would have walked across it like a spider's thread; to trace it back to its warmest source would be the best pleasure he would have been able to felt. But now in this world where no one could see him again, he felt barren.

As the crowd filed away down both streets he felt failure crushing in on him. He'd lost another chance, and he wouldn't know when he'd get his next. It wasn't entirely hopeless. It was just frustrating. Saddening.

Despite that his task had already long since gone, he entered the halls of the school. His steps didn't echo as they once did when he had control of his partner's body. When he thought about Duelist Kingdom, or when Yuugi had too much on his mind about a hidden date with Anzu, or the day before the tablet froze up- he had only a handful of memories to pick from. But somehow he felt like the school, unused as it was to him, held some sway. Maybe, he felt, it would be good to sit on the roof again, and pick open the wounds of remembrance that threatened to close.

Passing a doorway he finally saw that shock of tri-colored hair and stopped dead in his tracks. School was out. But there Yuugi was. Not waiting for him, but instead sleeping soundly on his desk. The sight drew a frown to the Pharaoh's lips. Yuugi looked positively pale; slack in his seat, slumbering away quietly even after everyone had gone. Why had no one thought to wake him up?

Approaching carefully, as if his ghostly presence had any authority at all to wake his partner, he spied a test face down on the desk. His fingers brushed over it, tracing the red-stained mark he could see bleeding through the other side. An F.

He wondered then if Yuugi was having trouble in school. Yuugi was bright, though perhaps a tad lazy in academic studies. …but could this have been because of him? Taking him away from school for so long? Was Yuugi having trouble? Staying up all night to study and still falling short because Atem had taken him away from his schooling to pursue the world's good graces?

Without thinking about it he wrapped his arms around Yuugi's back, threatening to fall through him. It was all an illusion still, but he could remember a few times when their souls were still twined… when they'd touch or hug just like this, and he could swear he felt Yuugi's presence as solid as anything. He was remorseful that his partner hadn't seemed to be able to adjust to life after he'd left. His story had rightfully ended, but had he stolen the promise of a future in Yuugi's by simply existing?

"Partner…" His voice echoed into the nothingness that had become his realm. He didn't belong here, and already he could feel the stirrings of being pulled skyward again. His presence was deteriorating. Departing back to where it belonged. Now that he'd finally found his objective, would the Gods refuse to let him wander again?

He imagined that might be the case. So he held tighter, pretending he could soak up everything and make it alright. Apologetic in his touch.

"Mou hitori…"

They'd promised. He'd seen Yuugi off as his own person. Then again, he had so easily fallen in to such an old habit of the word 'partner'. But even in death they were still twined, wasn't that right?

…had Yuugi called out to him?

Atem watched as a tired, shaky hand reached up to one of his ghostly ones around Yuugi's shoulder. Separated by so much, but could Yuugi still feel him? He wouldn't doubt it. He didn't, in fact, in that moment. He held tighter.

"I'm sorry." Yuugi had his own things to attend to. What right had he ever had to take that away from him?

His partner looked pained then, and yet managed a sleepy smile, eyes still closed. "Don't be. …don't like science much… anyway…"

A breathy one-note laugh left Atem, though it had tones deep in sorrow. Eons away, different planes of existence away and Yuugi still saw fit to tell him not to worry so much. How fitting.

How utterly fitting.

Leaning in he pressed a single but loving kiss to his partner's temple before he was torn away completely with a whisper of thanks. It felt like the first time all over again. And as Yuugi groggily awoke from his daydreams he could have sworn someone had been standing there… and that there were the faint imprints of wetness on the back of his hand. Yet nothing really seemed to be there. Had he been crying?

Or had these tears come from someone else long gone?