"Weep Not For the Memories"

After a few glorious hours exploring the wonderful creation of man known as a museum (at least Atem thought so… Malik became bored long before he did), both men decided to take their dinner in the museum café. The prices, according to his friend, were "outrageous" but Malik was feeling too peckish to seek elsewhere for sustenance. They found a booth in a cozy little corner away from the rest of the patrons, easy to do since this was the low end of the tourist season, and there weren't very many people around.

Malik sipped distractedly at his milkshake, kind of staring off into space, alternating between that and disinterestedly plucking at his own food. Atem was enjoying his first grilled cheese sandwich made with mozzarella and American cheese. Every bite he took sent him to proverbial heaven. He had to admit, despite his earlier griping, some of the foods of this era were incredibly delicious! He couldn't help getting a constant kick out of that fact. Every fruit and vegetable was always fresh, the meats were always well-cooked, and the food combinations that were available seemed beyond endless. The café alone seemed to have quite a global smorgasbord of meals. Gone it seemed was an Egypt where its citizens' welfare depended on the annual flooding of the Nile. In its place was something that had proven to be a far more effective survival strategy: international commerce.

"Atem. Napkin." Malik snatched one from the small container on the table and tossed it at him.

Unperturbed, Atem licked his lips, grabbed the papery tissue, and wiped at his mouth. "Thank you. I admit my table manners are not the best."

Malik affected a slight smile and went back to his fries. "No worse than some of my other friends. You eat like a high-born English courtier compared to them."

Atem was pleased, and just a little proud. "You would be half right. I am quite high-born." Putting down his sandwich, he used the same napkin to wipe the butter that had been on the toasted outsides off his fingers. The affects of the wine had gradually worn off over the course of the afternoon. By the time the both of them had sat down to eat, Atem was completely, and thankfully, sober. Never again, he swore. Those lingering feelings of loneliness and sadness that remained in small remnants in his soul had been amplified by the alcohol. For that reason, if for no other, Atem apprehended no desire to cling to a drink that brought these negative emotions to the surface. Forward, not backward. Today, not yesterday: that was how he was living, how he must keep living.

He noticed Malik listlessly pushing the rest of his food around on his plate, and frowned. He opened his mouth, and then closed it. Perhaps it was best not to ask. In his months of living with the Ishtars, Atem had learned a lot about his new family. If Malik needed to talk and get something out, he would. Thoughtfully Atem stirred his straw around his ice cube festooned Diet Coke, looking into the space hanging over his friend's head. His mind was back at the exhibit. He went over the things he'd told Malik. To his own ears, none of what he'd pulled out of the depths of his inner core lived in the village of good sense. Feeling like he'd known Mai, dreaming about Malik, that unexplainable bit with his self-identity issues, and the bizarre vision with the green light… Why had he said all that? It couldn't just be because he had been feeling a little tipsy. Moreover why had his craziness worked Malik up so much? Why the strange questions? Why…?

Why seems to be my word for the day. All right, self, here goes… In for the kill! Resolute to the task, Atem reached across the table and covered Malik's wrist with one hand, feeling the cool metal of his own golden arm bands against his palm. The other glanced up. He froze when he saw the flint in Atem's dark red eyes. "What do you know about what I've told you?" His voice was the rolling of distant thunder.

Malik drew away, appearing doubtful, unsure. "I'm… I don't know," he mumbled lamely.

He wasn't buying it. Atem peered more closely at his companion and narrowed his gaze. "You said you were keeping things from me." He paused, gathering his thoughts, trying to assemble what he wanted to say into something meaningful. "I am… I am still afraid. I still do not want to know. However I have never been one to live willingly under the wool, no matter how pleasant the bliss of ignorance is. Pray tell… Has this new life of mine been a lie, Malik? Is this me," he gestured toward himself, "this man who sits before you, who plays card games, who wears his gold proudly, and dresses in Western regalia, a pharaoh from the ancient past? Or is he merely an elaborate fiction you have warped me into believing?" His voice turned pleading. "Malik… please… if you are truly the friend and the brother I have come to care for…" He leaned over, desperate to get his point across: "Who am I?"

Hesitating only once, Malik finally raised his eyes to him, resolute and firm. "You are Pharaoh." His fingers curled into his palm, trembling slightly. "Everything you were in that life, every moment, every person you ever loved and knew, was real. It all happened the way you remember it. I swear it upon my mother's grave." Atem let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, biting his lips together. His pulse began to race. "You have been here in this world before, Atem." Malik took a long, slow, shaky breath. "When you died 3000 years ago, you sealed your soul into the Millennium Puzzle, the object you once called the God Pyramid. When we met you, Atem, we only knew you as the Spirit of the Millennium Puzzle. Before that, most of us only knew you as a seventeen year old Japanese high school student named Yuugi Mutou."

Atem paled. "What?" his voice sounded small and faraway. "I… Did… I don't understand. Is, or was, this Yuugi Mutou person my reincarnation?" He held up his hand then, warding Malik off for a moment. "Wait, then if I was this boy, how could I have been inside of the Puzzle too? I remember breaking it into pieces."

Malik slowly began to shake his head. "No. Yuugi is not your reincarnation. You would not have been able to come back to life if he had been. Yuugi is… You mentioned to me that there is a face that you see in the mirror that is not your face but you think must be. I think what you're remembering is the face of the boy whose body you once inhabited." Malik leaned over the table and lowered his voice. "Is any of this making sense so far?"

Atem sat back, feeling the strength drain from him. Abruptly it leapt upon him with the ferocity of a lion, sinking its claws into his brain and gorging a hole in his conscious mind. Atem's fist clutched over his heart. "I want a friend who will never betray me, a true friend…" a shy, timid voice whispered. Enlivened he lit up and smiled, feeling lighter and giddier than he ever felt in his life. Another voice, two voices, chimed: "Something you can see but you can't see it..." At last, he slid out from behind the booth, energized, restless. "We need to get back to my exhibit," he declared grandly. Not waiting for his companion, he made across the café at a fast clip, leaving poor Malik to scoop up their trash and unfinished sandwiches and toss them hurriedly.

"Wait, whoa, would you hold your horses… Don't run!"

But Atem would not be dissuaded nor slowed down. "If what you say is true," he called back over his shoulder, "then I know where my answers lie!"

"What do you mean?"

By the time they reached the exhibit, Malik was leaning on his knees out of breath. Ignoring his own heaving for air, Atem ignored him and stepped up close to where the Puzzle was displayed. He turned back to his friend. "I need to get this out of there. It's important that I touch it directly."

Malik feebly flapped his arms up and down like a bird. "I can't, not without breaking the display and setting off the alarm."

An alarm, he conveyed the display with an eyelid threat. More of this confounding modern-day magic! Atem growled quietly under his breath in aggravation, and turned back to the exhibit, opening and closing his hands rapidly, before he straightened, and held both fists tight at his sides. I vowed never to call upon them again in this world however I will make the attempt… He closed his eyes, inhaled slowly, deeply, and exhaled the same way. He felt the dark whispers lick against his skin and mind. He would open the door only a crack, just enough to get the task done…

"No!" Seeing what his charge was doing, Malik forcibly inserted his body between the Puzzle and the former spirit. He grabbed hold of his friend and gave him a healthy shove backward and away. "You gave up your life to seal those damn Shadows away, and I'll be damned if I ever have to watch you walk through those doors again!" he growled darkly.

This devastating proclamation froze Atem stark still, effectively slamming the door on his mind and his will. A faint hiss marked the final retreat of the Shadows back into the oblivion they were meant to remain in. He stumbled, encircling his own body with his arms, unable to believe the havoc he had almost wreaked. How could he have extended a willing hand to the very Shadows that had caused so much death and suffering? For the sake of his memories, had he really been so prepared to force the world to go through that again? He stared at the Puzzle, aghast at his own actions. The cost of his desire to know himself completely was simply too high of a price to pay. No, he would not do it in this way. Bringing up his chin, he glanced back at Malik, who was watching him, worried and angry.

Finally he arrived at a solution. "You must secure permission from the museum authorities. It is vital that I be allowed direct access to the Puzzle."

Wiping a few beads of sweat from his brow, Malik nodded, appearing vaguely relieved. "Big Sis has a lot of pull around this place. She might not have any say about what can or cannot be dug up but she can grant you access to the Puzzle provided you don't need to take it outside of the museum."

Well hell… Supremely annoyed, Atem grunted, reddening. "Why did you not tell me this sooner?" he muttered.

"Well, you weren't giving me much time!" Malik replied peevishly. "You kind of just started breaking down the door without asking me if I had the key first."

True. He let it go. "How long will obtaining permission take?"

At this, Malik grinned, and reached into the pocket of his pants. "For as long as it takes for someone to pick up a ringing telephone."

Atem smiled.

It took a lot longer than Atem liked, much to his thinly veiled impatience (he had never been known to be an especially long-suffering king). A lot of lies about their reasons for wanting admission to the Puzzle had to be told. Obviously there wasn't any way under the sun the museum authorities were going to believe that a 3000 year old pharaoh wanted access to his own personal affects! Eventually while succeeding, they still had to wait for the museum to close by the end of the business day. Even with Malik flashing around his handy ID card and security clearance, they were still forced to be enclosed inside of a locked room with a security officer standing guard outside by the door.

"So are you sure the Puzzle is all you need?" Malik asked, nervously checking behind him, as if he expected the guard to come in any moment. He really needn't have worried, since the small room they were sealed in had no other exits other than the one door.

Calmly, Atem held up the Puzzle by its metal chain, watching it sway gently to and fro. The restore artists had done a marvelous job cleaning the artifact up; it shone like the sun itself under the milky bulbs of the room's artificial lighting. "Yes. The other objects are mine, however; they are imprinted by the priests who wielded them. For instance, the Rod you once claimed to have used would know you better than anyone else, barring High Priest Set (May he live forever in Re's light). I could surely handle it without harm, of course, but it was not made for my use." He frowned, at last asking, "Why is there a metal chain attached to it?"

Malik shrugged. "I wouldn't know. Yuugi is the one who put it on there. Maybe he wanted to keep from losing it." There was a long laden pause. "What exactly do you plan on doing with it? I thought you said its power was gone?"

Atem nodded. "The power is gone. It can no longer be used to invoke Shadow Games or switch souls within a living body, this is true. However, my connection with it remains strong as it ever did." He cradled the upside down pendant between his palms and held it close to his heart, closing his eyes. And maybe, just maybe, it can help me again now… Murmuring an Egyptian prayer to the gods for their guidance and protection, Atem reached out a tentative mental finger, and tapped the weak consciousness of the Puzzle. At first, there was nothing. He felt its presence, for certain, but there was no actual response. Then he felt a tiny mental movement, a stirring, a sense of sensing, of recognition. Freed from its formerly dark trappings twisting it around in staircases of twisting agony and torment, there was a hidden conveyance of joy and acknowledgment. The Puzzle readily tapped back, its dimness growing stronger, brighter and more tangible to taste. Elated by the welcoming response, Atem smiled and allowed his mind to become drawn into the Puzzle…

When he opened his eyes again, he was struck by what he saw. It was his soul room! The nostalgia it evoked bit harshly, for it was the bedroom of a per'aa - his bedroom - exactly as he remembered it from millennia gone by. The bed itself was rich and large, made from the finest linens and the silkiest cloths. The tapestries were sweeping, vibrant displays that wrought his mouth open at their beauty and number. All of the furniture in the room, from the tables, to the chairs, were made of the finest polished woods and inlaid with intricate gold and shimmering precious stones. A room fit for a pharaoh.

"I was wondering if you were ever going to show up." Brutally removed from his reverie, Atem gasped and spun on the source of the intruder. Behind him, there was a man was seated on a beautiful throne directly situated against the wall, dressed in a blue jacket, blue leather pants, and on his feet a pair of black leather shoes with buckles. He had one leg crossed over the other, and he was leaning on one of the armrests, propping up his head. An arrogant smirk twisted his pale, almost white face. His wicked red eyes perused Atem from head to foot, and the expression on his face seemed almost downright jaunty between jagged shining golden locks of familiar-looking bangs.

Atem regarded him warily. "Who are you?"

The man chuckled heartily for such a cold looking persona. "You truly don't recognize your own face? I can't say I'm not hurt. I'm you, of course."

"Me? But I never looked like that! I mean you! I mean… Ah!" He paused, recanted, "Well, at least when I was myself." He shook his head, completely mystified. "No, how could that be? There can't be two of me at the same time!"

"You would be correct. I'm not really you. I'm the memory of you. This is what you looked like when you were just a spirit who lived within the Puzzle. But, that's only the beginning." He uncrossed the leg, stood, and descended the stair to his throne with more regal carry than Atem could remember himself ever having. He felt microscopic under that gaze. He forced himself not to back away when the other stood close to him. Seeming amused by Atem's lack of retreat, he folded his arms, a serenely pleased expression on his face. "How interesting," he remarked impressively, "you came in here even though you're afraid of what you might find."

"Fear is the first step to courage." Atem heard himself reply confidently, matching smirk for smirk with his Other. "You cannot know one without the other."

His Other chuckled. "Very true." He smiled then, gently, softly. "I am so glad you've come back. You have no idea how much it hurt when you left this world without me. I don't know if you intended to do it, but I know you crossed over less of a man than you were when you dwelt on this earth." He reached out suddenly then and seized Atem into a fierce embrace. "Accept me," he whispered passionately, "for when you do leave this place again for the Land of the West, only then you may be truly whole."

Overcome by the emotions bleeding over from the Other, Atem clung helplessly to the memory. "I shall never be whole," he murmured sadly. "I am only half a soul in this mortal shell of mine."

"But you know where to find the other half, do you not?" the Other whispered close to his ear, as both of them blurred, converged, and became one. "If you are the darkness," he echoed, "then he is the light. Remember?"

When Atem opened his eyes again, he was back in the small room inside the museum. Malik hovered nearby, waiting, anxious. A slow, sure smile began to stretch across his face. He set the Puzzle down and turned to his friend.

"I remember."

Confused by the statement, Malik blinked. "Remember what?" He was taken aback when Atem began to laugh, and yelped in alarm when Atem abruptly swept his friend up into a bear hug. "Hey, hey, watch it, no bouncing! Stop!" He pushed Atem off him, looking at him charily, guardedly. "Are you okay? You were really quiet for a while there."

"I'm fine, I'm wonderful!" Atem felt warm and glowing and happier than he'd ever felt. "Malik… Malik, I remember everything! I do! I… I remember Duelist Kingdom, (dear god that Pegasus character was a strange fellow!) and I remember, oh wow, I remember Battle City! And the pier! I remember Jounouchi, and I remember Kaiba's blimp, and Kaiba, ugh, horrible man! and I remember the God Cards, and… and..." Atem was having a hard time containing himself. "I remember other things too, like Death-T, and… and the green light." Here he lost steam, hot guilt burning him from the inside out like a fire-brand. "I shouldn't have played the Orichalcos, I should have never…" He shook his head to remove the thought, realizing it was a memory that was painful, yes, but that it had been dealt with and moved beyond. Something else had displaced it. "I remember searching for my memories. I found them, and then…" His face cleared of expression, as something hit him, his last memory before a bright light blanked out the rest of his thoughts.

"I'm gonna miss you!"

"You do realize we'll never truly be apart right?"

"Huh?"

"The gift of kindness you've given me and the courage I've given you will remain with us, and that will forever bind us together."

"Well Pharaoh...good bye."*

"Aibou…" Atem felt the strength leave his legs and he leaned forward on the table in front of him so that he wouldn't wind up sprawled on the floor. "I left Yuugi… and the others," he said quietly. "I went on to the afterlife. I was truly gone, wasn't I?"

Malik nodded solemnly. "You were. Until Sarah."

Atem lowered his head, silently acknowledging his words. Until Sarah. "This shouldn't have happened," he whispered between his braced arms, "I shouldn't be here."

"Maybe." Atem glanced up at him. "But clearly you were meant to do more. You've been given a second chance, Atem. Not many people get those after what you've been through."

Atem was touched by his newfound brother's words. "Thank you. I… I cannot begin to express how grateful I am to you, your brother, and your sister. It is more loyalty than I feel I have any right to."

"Hey!" Malik smacked him in the shoulder, hard. "None of that crap now. Guys like you who save the world from evil only come along once every 3000 years. You've earned every friend you've got in this world." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Are we done?"

Atem smiled fondly down at the Puzzle. "Yes. Yes, I think we are."


Author's Note: Per'aa is the Egyptian word for pharaoh, which means "Great House." Most of my information on ancient Egypt, unless otherwise indicated, comes from www . touregypt . com. The site is a vast wealth of information on Egypt. I highly recommend it.
Disclaimer: The italicized dialogue Atem recalls at * comes directly from Yu-Gi-Oh! Episode 224 and is from the English dub script, as I understand more fans are familiar with it. I make no claim to authorship of these words.