Since the Spirit had responded to Yugi's letter, it seemed that all Yugi wanted to do was chat. Bond. Coax the Spirit even further out of his golden shell. Yugi made overtures for conversation day and night, and the Spirit did his level best not to remind Yugi that he didn't have anything to say.
Yugi first decided that the Spirit was a male because its voice was so deep, and the Spirit tacitly agreed. Yugi then moved on to names. He recalled that the Puzzle had come from Egypt, but didn't know any Egyptian names outside of a handful from ancient mythology. The Spirit had no response for Yugi's suggestions here, either – he doubted very seriously that he'd recognize his real name, even if Yugi somehow managed to select it.
Yugi was debating between Seth and Jarrod ("A modern one with Egyptian flare!") for several hours one afternoon, and the Spirit had had just about enough of this one-sided game of dress-up. He retreated as deftly as he could into the Puzzle. Yugi was too preoccupied to notice.
The Spirit wandered through the maze-like passages of his mind, not intending to go anywhere or find anything – only wanting to think.
He knew instinctively that a challenge approached. He could sense it in what would have been his bones. He could taste it with his memory. There was a storm brewing. Someone, somewhere, was clutching a gauntlet, and was preparing to throw it down.
The Spirit just didn't know how he knew. Perhaps he might broach the subject with Yugi. Yugi would likely be thrilled to talk about anything, as long as they were talking in the first place.
More pressing, though, was the strange feeling the Spirit suddenly felt tugging at his gut. He scrambled against the polished floor, lost his footing, and was swept up and out of his mind with the force of a whirlwind.
"What the—"
"So this is the Spirit of the Millennium Puzzle."
The Spirit's vision swam into focus. He forced his breathing to calm. He felt stiff and confined in his hands and feet – he was back in Yugi's body. In front of him, looking him up and down appraisingly as one might consider an item at a pawn shop, was an old man who curiously resembled Yugi – Yugi's grandfather.
"Y-yes," stammered the Spirit in reply, glancing about himself to gain orientation. He was sitting opposite Yugi's grandfather at the kitchen table. Last he'd known, he'd been upstairs in Yugi's room.
Yugi's grandfather – just 'Grandpa,' Yugi calls him – continued to scrutinize the Spirit, as though he expected to discover some telling defect. The Spirit fidgeted under his gaze.
"Yugi wants to call you 'Seth,'" said Grandpa with a small chuckle. "But I don't think that'll do."
The Spirit blinked. "He can call me whatever he likes," he answered slowly.
Grandpa's eyes never left him as he shook his head and said, "My vote is for Jarrod. You heard it from my own mouth." He winked.
Before the Spirit could respond, he felt the tug in his stomach lurch in the opposite direction, and he was thrown back onto the floor of the Puzzle's inner chamber.
The Spirit staggered to his feet and brushed himself off. "Yugi," he directed to the ceiling, "What's going on?"
There came no reply. The Spirit could hear Yugi's thoughts distantly, a rushing garble of sound. He decided to make bold and re-enter Yugi's primary consciousness. But when he tried the handle of the golden door that led there, he found it locked.
"What on earth?" he muttered. He tried again, "Yugi!"
The only response was the tug.
The Spirit reeled once again, blinking back the glaring sting of daylight. This time he was standing outside some kind of restaurant, and staring right into a familiar young woman's face.
"Oh!" said Téa Gardner with a sudden blush. "H-hi."
"Hello," he ventured.
Téa continued to blush, but she straightened herself up and smoothed down her jacket in an effort to calm her outward demeanor. "I like both names," she said, "but my favorite is probably Jarrod."
She pushed a layer of brown hair behind her shoulder, and the Spirit realized she did it to look pretty.
When he didn't respond, Téa blushed again and said anxiously, "But if you like Seth better, it's up to you!"
"I—"
The tug.
He had been growing angry, but now the Spirit could pick up on what was going on. It wouldn't be long before the tug came again, throwing him into the arena like a gladiator at the games. But he was good at games – he could play along.
Sure enough, not a minute later, the Spirit embraced the tug and whirled into being. The same restaurant, a different spot. Two rough-and-tumble young men sitting across from him in a booth.
"Whoa. Next time you gotta warn me before you do that, Yug'."
This is Joey Wheeler...and his friend. Trevor? No...
"So whaddaya think, Tristan?" Ah. Tristan.
"I think I've been waiting so long for my food that I'm gonna eat it as tomorrow's breakfast instead of dinner!"
Joey elbowed Tristan in in the ribs. "Not about the food, ya nimrod. The names."
"Oh. Uh..." Tristan looked over the Spirit without really looking at him. He shrugged. "Just looks like a 'Yugi' to me."
Joey brought a hand to his forehead and massaged his temples. "You can be a real idiot sometimes, you know that?"
"Takes one to know one."
"Yeah, well anyway." Joey took a huge swig of his extra-large soda. He set it down, wiped his mouth, looked the Spirit square in the eye and said with conviction: "Seth."
The Spirit raised his eyebrows.
"...yeah," said Joey, nodding. "Seth. For sure."
Tristan glanced between their faces. Recognition dawned on his own.
"Yeah. Seth. I like it," he said, trying the name on his tongue.
Joey slapped his hand down on the table, and made Tristan and the Spirit jump.
"Dat's two fer Seth. You keepin' track of this, Yug'?"
The Spirit didn't bother explaining; he rode the tug back into the Puzzle, and placidly awaited the next round.
It was a while before he was summoned again. He was back at Yugi's home, the game shop, and he was holding a phone receiver up to his ear. Trying to throw him off, was Yugi? The Spirit did know what a phone was.
"Hello?" he said smoothly.
"Oh, hello," came a gentle voice. The Spirit recognized it right away – this was Bakura.
The boy with the Ring.
There was a great hesitation on the other line. "Which do you prefer, Bakura?" the Spirit prompted. More hesitation.
"...Jarrod," Bakura said at last. "Seth is taken."
"Huh?" Taken? This piqued the Spirit's interest. "What do you mean—wait—"
But Yugi, wherever he was lurking, seemed not to have heard. Fwump, and the Spirit lay face-down on his mind's golden floor. It was annoying, but ultimately fine with him – he now had something new to think about, and where better to think than in his mind?
Seth was 'taken?' By whom? Bakura was the only one of Yugi's friends who possessed his own knowledge of the Millennium Items. He himself owned the Millennium Ring, which housed another Spirit – a far darker one. Was Seth the name of the Spirit inside Bakura? And if it was – how did that spirit know? Had it kept its memories? Had it invented the name for itself, or had Bakura done it for him?
It wasn't until they met Ishizu Ishtar at the Ancient Egypt Exhibit, and bore witness to the weathered tablets of his history, that Yugi and the Spirit discarded both 'Seth' and 'Jarrod' in favor of 'Yami' – the name of Yugi's shadow, Yugi's other darkness.
Yami knew that this name was fitting. He had walked in darkness for so long; he would have to earn a name of light. Perhaps this new tournament - Seto Kaiba's gauntlet - was his chance.