The Pharaoh, Atem, Yami, Yugi, he'd known a thousand names, but none of them ever really meant anything to him. He was living in a stranger's life. He wanted to stay, and yet he wanted to go. He wanted to be his own person. Why was it he, who was chosen to carry all these burdens? Why did the Gods name him the savior and not some other great King or perhaps average Joe?
He had never truly gotten to have life. He was thankful for the time he had, but some people went their whole lives without a single threat… or adventure… and he supposed some of those people found their lives quite boring. But at least they had time to be bored. To learn, to love, to live.
He had never taken a wife as Pharaoh, or a long-term lover, he would barely say he had friends. He had a childhood he supposed, one he could barely remember, even now with all of his mind returned. He supposed he had a family and friends, but his life was filled with preparation to be Pharaoh, and work, and lies and doubt. And then that life was taken from him before he could even catch his bearings. He did not regret or resent the sacrifice for his people, or the manipulation of his soul, but there was a deep and hidden part of him that felt utterly robbed.
As much as he had been the great and powerful Pharaoh to Yugi's childish innocence, he himself was but a child. Never being given the chance to grow as a person, and having to learn and relearn how to control himself. In his life as the Pharaoh, that is all he was, Pharaoh. There was not Atem behind the Pharaoh. Pharaoh Atem was one entity. And in his new life, he was just another side to Yugi. And who was he to say that wasn't true? Was Yugi him, and he Yugi? It sure seemed so, but the difference was, Yugi would go on. Yugi would live a normal and beautiful life with friends, and family, and love. He would pursue his dreams and grow to an advanced age until he looked just like his grandpa. And that's what he found himself longing for.
He left now, not because he had to, or because he wanted to. He would miss Yugi and his friends dearly, but they were not the Pharaoh's friends, he had nothing but a life, long passed, and it was not that life he wished to go back to, and he did not walk through the door now because there stood his companions of a past life waving emphatically at him. He didn't leave these people he had spent so long with because the others mattered more, but because he could not stay. He could not imagine going back to a life of a ghostly apparition in a puzzle, sharing the joys of a young boy's body. He could not go back to a life so unreal, and he could not afflict Yugi with the complications he had weighed him down with for so long. He wanted desperately, what he could not have, and even though he saw something he dreaded on the other side of that door, he walked through with the hope that the Gods would smile upon him, and that in the afterlife, perhaps someday, someway, he would be given the chance at real life.
He would have given anything to fulfill what everyone kept shamelessly imagining. To have his own body in this time. To go back with Yugi and have Grandpa accept him as a second grandson. To help out in the game shop and maybe go get a job, exciting or menial, it didn't matter, he would love it. To hang out with Yugi and his friends and play casual games of Duel Monsters, where he could chat and laugh and barely pay attention… and lose… To go travel, and take classes, and buy random things he didn't need, and take pictures with people, maybe even make his own friends. Know people that were just his. To make his own life, without the fate of the world on his or the shoulders of the people he cared about.
Oh, to take his fingers, and his skin and feel others with it… to hug Yugi, and wrap an arm around Joey and ruffle Mokuba's hair and have them know for sure it was him and not Yugi. What would it be like to have no one ever call him Yugi, or Pharaoh, or Spirit, or other me again?
But he could not stay, for he didn't know what would happen if he did. He didn't know what it would be like, if he would ever get what he wanted, if he would regret his decision. This was right. This was what was meant to happen. And so he had to ignore the sobs of his loved ones. They could take this. They would be okay. It was himself he feared for most. But he hoped and he prayed that he would be okay and that the Gods plans weren't meant to hurt him, and he would find, not necessarily happiness, but the chance to pursue it.
Not just to reassure everyone losing him, but to reassure himself, had he lifted his arm to contort his hand into a thumbs up. He wanted them to believe this was for the best and be happy for his triumphant return, and because his mind willed them to, his blue school uniform turned into a flowing Pharaoh's cape. He identified with neither outfit, but he'd like his friends to believe he suited both. It was time. It was over. No more yelling, no more fighting, no more worrying, no more thinking, no more contemplating, no more looking to the future, no more going over the past. His nonexistent body was going numb, and then there was nothing, but he kept walking. He could still hear the sniffles and breathing behind him and the door seemed to be shutting. He got this sudden urge to turn back and run, sliding through the tiny space still left open in the powerful rock, but he kept going, showing no doubt or weakness. He would pursue this, whatever it was, and he would realize his way. He left the same way he had come, not knowing who he was, but hoping to find out.