Seto touched his bruised cheek and grimaced as he leaned against a column outside the Opera.
He'd to fix it, this had become a personal matter. The old man will meet Yami, whatever he liked it or not.
Seto made his move as he saw Solomon leaving the Opera before the ballet ended and going to his car. While the driver -who was the same brown-haired jerk from earlier- opened the rear door for Solomon, Seto snuck into the driver's seat and set in motion the car once the back door had been closed.
Tristan watched in horror as the car took off without him. "What the hell-Hey!" he shouted, chasing the car. "Stop!" But it was too late, the car had already turned around the corner and disappeared from his sight.
"Great!" Tristan cursed. He had lost Yugi's grandpa!
"Tristan! Slow down, I'm too old for this," Solomon requested as the car ran on the streets.
Seto turned around and smirked at Solomon. "I'm not Tristan and I won't slow down. Not until you listen."
"You!" Solomon shouted when he recognized Seto. "You're going to give me a heart attack! Stop this car immediately!"
Seto ignored his words and continued to drive until he reached his destination. He got out of the car and opened the back door where Solomon was stubbornly ignoring him.
"You have to talk to him! Just look at him!" Seto said and then grimaced as he added, "please."
"I won't be badgered by you a moment longer," Solomon replied solemnly.
Seto wanted almost to drag the old man out of the car but then he remembered his trump card. "Do you recognize this?" he asked as he showed the precious box to Solomon.
Solomon's eyes widened as he took the offered item.
"Where did you get this?"
"Just go see him," Seto said. "You'll not regret it."
Solomon sighed. "You young people are so stubborn nowadays."
Seto grinned and moved away from the door.
Yami decided to gather the few things he had and leave before the others came back. He didn't know where to go but he needed to get away as far as possible from here. Kuriboh observed his master quietly, sitting on the bed, as Yami tossed angrily his things in the bag.
Suddenly someone knocked on the door and Yami groaned.
"Go away, Kaiba!" he shouted.
The door opened anyway to Yami's displeasure. He turned around ready to chastise the intruder but he was taken aback as he saw Solomon Muto.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Yami said, "I thought you were. . ."
"I know very well who you thought I was," Solomon replied. He briefly looked at Yami as he stepped into the room. "Who exactly are you?"
"I was hoping you could tell me," Yami answered sincerely.
Solomon chuckled. "My dear, I'm old and I'm tired of being conned and tricked," he said, wandering around the room with his walking steak.
Yami could tell how the man felt after what happened earlier. "I don't want to trick you."
"And I suppose the money doesn't interest you either?" Solomon questioned him ironically.
"I just want to know who I am," Yami said, after a pause. "Whenever or not I belong to a family." He looked at Solomon hopefully. "Your family."
Solomon glanced out of the window and shook his head. "You're a very good actor. The best yet, in fact, but I've had enough," he said with a tired tone.
As Solomon walked away, Yami smelt a familiar scent.
"Cologne?" Yami wondered loudly.
"It's my favorite scent," Solomon answered casually.
"Yes," Yami recalled lost in thought. "I spilled a bottle," he continued, fiddling with his necklace. "The carpet was soaked and it forever smelled of cologne. Like you."
Solomon had stopped on his track and stared at Yami shocked as he sat down on a coach.
"I used to lie there on the rug," Yami said, focusing on the memory. "And I really missed you when you went away. . . when you came here. To Paris." He frowned at his own words and touched his temple confused.
Solomon patted the place beside him and Yami sat down. Solomon observed Yami again for the first time from head to toe.
"What is that?" Solomon asked, noticing Yami's necklace.
"I've always had it, ever since before I can remember," Yami answered.
Solomon hold out his hand. "May I?"
Yami took off the chain and gave it to him.
"It was our secret, Atem's and mine," Solomon confided, his voice was full of emotions. "Only Yugi knew about it."
Solomon took the box from his coat and Yami's eyes widened.
"The music box." Yami took the small item carefully in his hands. It was the same one that Seto had but now Yami remembered what it hid. "To sing me to sleep when you were in Paris." He then took the pendant, no the key, and inserted it in the small keyhole, turning it.
The lid of the pyramid opened and two dancing little figures appeared as a sweet music started to play.
"Here this song and remember, soon you'll be home with me, once upon a December."
Yami and Solomon looked at each other as the music ended.
He remembered now. Yami- No Atem- he reminded himself, felt breathless as a warm sensation rush through him.
Solomon's eyes were wet with tears. "Oh Atem!" he sobbed, wrapping his arms around his nephew.
Finally, he was back with his family.
Outside, on the street, Seto looked up at the opened window with keen eyes.
Since Muto hadn't come out he could guess that this time the plan had worked. The pain on his chest deepened but Seto ignored it. Yami was back with his family and now his job was done.
This is where we part ways. . .
Instead of going back to the hotel, Seto bid a silent farewell to Yami and walked away, down the streets of Paris.
Yugi paced back and forth as they waited for the news about his grandfather.
They had called the police after Tristan told them what had happened and then came back at the Muto's estate.
Yugi ran a hand through his hair. First, he'd missed the con man during the intermission and then someone kidnapped his grandfather. He couldn't lose another family member.
"I really don't understand how did you lose him!"
"I told you! Someone entered the car while I was distracted!"
Yugi touched his temple as he heard Joey and Tristan still arguing.
"Stop you two!" Tea shouted. She had come as soon as possible after the ballet had ended. "Arguing doesn't help now."
Mai had a thoughtful expression on her face. "I think I know who took your grandfather."
"Who?"
"That man, Seto Kaiba. . ."
"Who is Seto Kaiba?" Tea asked.
Mai and Joey sighed and told them everything that happened since that afternoon.
"I'm sorry, Yug," Joey said at the end of the story. "But this guy looked a lot like you and he'd answered all Mai's questions, he'd even know how you had escaped."
"And we thought it was a good idea to let him meet you," added Mai.
Suddenly the door opened and Yugi felt relieved as his grandfather stepped in.
"Grandpa!"
Solomon smiled cheerfully. "Good to see you, kids."
"Thank god, you are safe!"
"What did happen?"
"Did the police find you?"
"Did you escape alone?"
Solomon raised a hand, shutting them up. "It's not important now," he told them kindly, "look who I found." Solomon moved away from the door to let another person in.
Yugi's eyebrow raised as his eyes' widened.
"Atem?"
His cousin smiled awkwardly and nodded. "Hi, Yugi."
The news of the found Prince traveled fast and by the next day all the journals had Atem's picture on the front.
That day the rain poured down in crazy chaotic drops together with thunders. Inside an old tower clock, Bakura smiled madly as he read the journal.
"We have to get ready for tomorrow night, Marik," he laughed, slamming the journal on a table.
Marik looked away from his claws annoyed. This story about killing was starting to bore him.
"Ready for what?"
"A party!"
"Here in Paris?"
"Yes!"
Now, this was interesting.
"We'll let the Grand Duke Atem have his moment," Bakura continued. "And then we'll kill him!"
Ok, never mind.
"What happened to the party idea?
"That's where we're going to kill him," Bakura answered. He took the journal and ripped it apart in tiny little pieces. "Crush him at the height of his glory!"
"And we're back to the crushing," Marik grumbled, watching the tiny pieces of the journal fall on the table.
The pictured of Atem remained intact, like an omen. All the attempted murder had always failed and Bakura should start to take the hint that probably he'll never be able to kill the prince.
Marik took the picture and waved it. "You know what, just forget the boy and get a life."
"Oh, I'll get a life, Marik," Bakura said as he grabbed the paper, crushing it in his hand. "His!"
Bakura started to laugh again and Marik rolled his eyes.
Atem spent the next day with Yugi and Solomon, talking about the last years they spent apart and remembering the old times. They were in Solomon's bedroom now, going through old pictures and things Solomon had stored.
"This was our favorite," Yugi told him, showing him an old puzzle. "We solved it in like three days."
The two cousins were sitting on the carpet while Solomon sat on the couch.
"I remember!" Atem said. "We were so focused on it that Mahad had to force us to go to sleep every night."
Atem's eyes fell then on an old picture and he picked it. An air of melancholy surrounded him as he stared at a family portrait. His fingers brushed over his siblings' faces. He missed them so much.
"They would not want us to live in the past, not now that we have found each other," Solomon said, sensing Atem's thoughts. He looked at the box that contained his belongings and took a piece of paper. "Oh- look here, the drawing you gave me. Remember?"
Atem grinned at that. "Oh Yes! Mana made me so mad, she said it looked like a pig riding a donkey!"
Yugi giggled as he peeked at the drawing. "She was right, you never were good at this kind of things."
Atem tried to glare at Yugi but then he started to laugh as well.
"In your laughter, once again I hear your dear mother," Solomon told Atem, standing up. He led Atem to a counter where a big box stood and opened it. Inside was a golden crown with a triangle in the middle that held a ruby.
"But you have the fiery spirit of your father, Akanamkanon" Solomon affirmed, placing the crown on Atem's front head, "Emperor of all Russia."
Atem looked at his own reflexion on the mirror as he held his head high and back straight like it was expected of a prince. He'd found his identity, the place where he belongs, but he couldn't help to feel that something wasn't right, something was missing.
Seto adjusted the wrinkles of his blazer before entering Solomon's studio.
"You sent for me, Mr. Muto?" Seto asked, not hiding his annoyance.
Solomon nodded. He stood up from his place behind the desk and opened a case which was full of money. "Ten million rubles as promised, with my gratitude."
Seto glanced at the case. There it was, the reason why he had started this journey.
-It was all a lie, wasn't it?
-You used me
-I was just a part of your con to get his money!
No, he couldn't take it, not when painful words and hurt eyes haunted him. Mokuba will understand. . .
"I don't need your gratitude and I don't want the money."
Solomon looked surprised at that. "What do you want, then?" he asked.
"Nothing you can give," Seto answered, starting to walk away.
"Young man." Solomon stopped him, walking before him. "Where did you get that music box?"
Seto looked away from the old man's inquisitive gaze.
"You were the boy, weren't you?" Solomon continued when he didn't get an answer. "The servant boy who got us out. You saved my nephews' life and mine. Then you restored Atem to me, yet you want no reward?"
"Not anymore," Seto answered.
"Why the change of mind?"
Seto didn't answer but his eyes betrayed him for a second. "My brother is waiting for me, I've to go," he said and left the room.
Solomon stroked his beard and smiled as he realized the young man's motivations.
This place looks more like a palace than a house, Mokuba thought as he waited for his brother, sitting on the stairs. The guardian near him gave him a dirty look but Mokuba ignored him. He looked around bored before a familiar figure showed up.
"Mokuba?"
"Yami?"
The young man looked really like royalty now. He was dressed in a white jacket with golden details, white matching pants, a blue sash, and dark polished shoes. The golden crown shined under the light and the dark blue cape fell elegantly over his shoulders.
"Ops, I mean Prince Atem or is it- your Highness- now?" Mokuba fidgeted with his hands.
Atem chuckled and shook his head. "You can just call me Atem."
If Mokuba is here then also Kai- Atem cut off the thought.
Mokuba nodded and stood up. "I thought you didn't want to talk with us anymore," he whispered. "I'm really sorry for what we did, Ya- Atem, we didn't want to hurt you."
"It doesn't really matter now, it's not like your fault."
Atem couldn't deny that he had been really upset at first, but the two days had helped him to cool down. He didn't feel angry anymore with Mokuba, or Pegasus. Mokuba was just a kid and Pegasus had given him a heartfelt apology just before he came here. And despite everything, without them, he would have never reached Paris. But with Kaiba. . . it was different.
Speak of the devil. . . Seto was coming down the stairs that led to Solomon's office. Surprised, he slowed down when he saw Atem at the end of the stairs with his brother.
They looked at each other with sharp eyes that hid much more than they revealed.
"Kaiba."
"Atem."
Mokuba watched them with eyes full of hope for a reconciliation.
"Did you collect your reward?" Atem asked, bitter.
"My business is complete," Seto answered dismissively.
Mokuba sighed at the exchange.
"Young man." The guardian scolded Seto. "You will bow and address the Prince as Your Highness."
"No, that's not nec-"
"Please, your Highness," Seto interrupted Atem deadpan and bowed. "I'm glad you found what you were looking for."
Atem looked startled for a moment at Seto's action. "Yes, I'm glad you did too," he replied, regaining his composure.
"Well then, goodbye, your Highness." Seto bowed again and started to walk away. "Come on, Mokuba," he tossed over his shoulder to his brother.
Mokuba shoulder drooped. He looked uncertain but then he hugged Atem to the guardian's horror. "'bye, Atem," he said against his chest and then ran after his brother.
Atem raised his hand but then he closed it against his chest. "Goodbye. . ." he muttered softly, more to himself.