"I am sorry we weren't there, Pharaoh," Isis apologized, her voice heavy with regret that Atem was quick to dismiss.
"You couldn't have known. It caught us all by surprise, and it was largely my own doing."
"Though Zorc probably would have tried something like that before we got here."
Atem grinned for Yuugi's indirect defense of him, looking at his partner out of the corner of his eye. Yuugi was just a couple steps away from him, leaning his back against the deck rail with his arms crossed over his stomach, a faint smile on his face. Atem was glad to see it.
They and their friends were all standing on the deck of a large ship. The Ishtars had brought it up the Nile to meet them, and as Cairo faded away behind them, the sun was just beginning to set. It had taken some time to leave the city because the Ishtars had to intervene with security to even get them out of the airport. Once freed, though, the group had moved swiftly to reach the port and depart, before any awkward legal questions could come back to haunt them. That possibility seemed more distant with every mile put between them and the city, though, and for the first time since they left the plane, Atem felt like he could relax.
Everyone apparently felt the same, slumping on their feet or leaning over the rails to marvel at the view as Atem spoke with the three Ishtar siblings, Isis visibly relieved by the pharaoh's easy dismissal of her apology. "Nevertheless, I am glad all of you made it through that attack safely."
"So, Bakura, the other Bakura, he is really gone?" Malik asked, frowning between Atem and the true Bakura with an edge to his expression that Atem didn't quite understand.
Bakura didn't seem to either, his gaze exhausted but curious as he stared back. He said nothing.
"I believe so," Atem answered for both of them, frowning himself as he looked from Malik to Isis. "As I said on the way here, he chose to disappear along with the Millennium Items rather than destroy us, since it would cost him his freedom, and… leave his people to suffer. But I think he would have paid that price, if not for Bakura," he added, the weight in his gut lifting as he smiled towards the pale-haired teen.
Bakura offered him a tired grin in return. "I just had the benefit of insight, Atem-kun."
"It was still very brave of you."
"That being the case," Isis cut-in, giving Bakura a quick smile before focusing again on Atem. "I assume you still wish to proceed, despite this hiccup?"
…The smile slid from Atem's face as his mind went stark blank. "Is that even possible now that the Items are gone?"
Isis's gaze was soft, her voice reassuring. "If we had not kept in contact with the team back at the ceremonial site, I would have assumed not. However, it seems that is not the case."
"The last two Items were already there," Rishid explained, stepping forward from behind his siblings to pass Atem something from his pocket. "The Key and the Scales. The workers saw them disappear, and they turned to gold dust, just as you described back at the airport. But, at the same time–"
Atem accepted the photo Rishid offered, and a confused, familiar understanding twisted in his gut when he saw the pictured stone door, an Eye of Horus and countless hieroglyphics etched into its surface. "…This is where we're going."
"Yes," Rishid confirmed. "But it doesn't look like that now."
"The tablet meant to hold the Millennium Items sits just below that door." Isis pointed at some of the hieroglyphics in the image, and said, "Here, this inscription says, 'when the Items are placed within the tablet, when the pharaoh lays down his sword and proclaims his name, the door will open and he will reclaim his crown.' That is what has guided us regarding your departure.'
Atem stared at the eyed door, and knew in his heart that they were right. He looked away the photo, back to the Ishtars. "But the Items are gone."
"It looks like that doesn't matter." Malik frowned at him, a disinterested sort of wonder on his face as he explained, "The tablet and door started to glow after the Items disappeared."
"…It has activated."
"I believe it simply awaits your approach, Pharaoh Atem," Isis said, smiling as he looked back to her. "When you fought the being within the Ring, you said you offered your surrender to him, correct? To protect your friends and make amends for the crimes against his people?"
"…You believe that fulfilled this inscription. The 'lay down my sword' part."
"I can only speculate. It could also be a natural result of the Items disappearing. Or perhaps it was an act of kindness on the part of the spirit of the Ring. We may never know, but whatever the truth of it, this fact remains: The door glows. By all appearances, it is waiting for you."
So. It was still so.
Atem had had no time to consider the matter, tossed into the shock of his partner's distress and the security's demands and the need to move once the Ishtars came to their rescue, an exhaustion and dizziness that seemed magical in nature plaguing him all the while. But still, Atem had assumed everything was thrown off by his folly on the plane. That the path before him had been shattered, and if he was to leave, it would be by some other means, assuming it was possible at all.
Apparently, that wasn't an issue. Items or no Items, he was still on the same path he had known since the beginning, since before he understood the weight on his shoulders and the sense of wrong that struck anytime he considered anything but leaving. He could still go.
No, he was still meant to go.
But the weight of that truth had never truly left, so Atem endured it easily, and his smile and voice were light when he said, "I suppose I should go open it, then, since someone was kind enough to leave it unlocked for me."
Isis didn't reply beyond a continued smiled, and Rishid merely nodded. Malik chuckled for the joke, but the mirth did not touch his eyes. And when Atem looked to his friends, to Sugoroku, they smiled, too.
For his benefit.
But when he turned to his partner, Atem found Yuugi looking out over the waters, his eyes on Cairo as it disappeared over the horizon.
He didn't speak.
None of them did.
"You're exhausted."
"I will be fine," Atem insisted, every word as fond as it was dismissive.
Yuugi smiled, charmed even when he was sure the pharaoh should be in bed, not sitting up at the cabin table. Yuugi didn't encourage his stubbornness by sitting down with him, but hovered behind the facing chair as he insisted, "I know that duel was hard on you. You didn't finish it, but it was sapping you somehow, wasn't it?" Looking back on it, Yuugi thought the effect seemed a lot like what hit him when they were dueling Pegasus, though he wasn't how that made sense. Atem should have been immune to that darkness, just as he was last year. But Yuugi remembered the pain well enough to recognize the signs of it, and while he could only wonder at the whys, he was just thankful Atem came through it one piece.
That he was alive.
Atem eyed him, then turned his smile on the table, playing a familiar leather cord between his fingers. The pendant with his name etched on it was the only thing left dangling from his neck, now that the Puzzle was gone. "It's passed, along with the dizziness. I'll go to bed soon, and be fine by morning."
Yuugi looked away, out the porthole window, watching as the shadowed outline of a shore passed by. "…Malik-kun said we should reach the site by dawn."
"…Then you should get some sleep, too."
"Yeah, I should." But he wouldn't. He'd likely pass the night just as he was now, looking out a window. Except in his own cabin. The rooms all had single twin beds, so the Ishtars had offered them each a cabin of their own. And while Yuugi was tempted to leave one of them unused, to stay, a part of him was grateful for the chance to be alone. He needed the space to react honestly and collect himself again, to move forward without any fear of cracking and doing something silly, or selfish at the last minute.
Like last night in Domino. In his bedroom.
"…The Puzzle disappearing, it hurt you somehow, didn't it?" Yuugi turned back to the pharaoh, searching his eyes. "When it disappeared, I was afraid… but it still affected you somehow, didn't it?" Yuugi had been wary to ask, afraid the question would turn to him, and how he reacted at the time. But he had to know.
Atem didn't bring up his behavior, though. Or his distress. He just looked at him, his gaze molten warmth… and after a delay, he admitted, "I don't know why. Perhaps it was just the connection I've always had with the Puzzle being severed, or whatever role the Puzzle played in Zorc pulling me into reality… But I suppose it doesn't really matter in the end."
Yuugi shook his head, tired and deeply grateful for that truth. "No, I suppose it doesn't."
Atem smiled, but then a shadow fell across his face as he said, "I am sorry, aibou, that you and everyone were put in that position. Giving him the chance to attack us, and worrying you… I won't say I regret offering myself to save you. I would do it a thousand times over again, for any of you. But that it was ever necessary in the first place–"
"Atem." Yuugi walked around the table to Atem's side and took his hand, prompting him to drop the cord to return the hold as Yuugi looked down on him. "I've told you, I want to share your burdens. And I never blamed you. And I've made my own mistakes." Everything from watching strange videos sent to him in the mail to encouraging Atem to let the Items out of their sight on that plane. Yuugi liked to think he would have avoided the first mistake and spared his grandpa a magical kidnapping if he had seen that 'ring' movie last year, but the fact remained, if they really wanted to play the blame game… But that was pointless. It was better to just be grateful. Yuugi squeezed Atem's hand with a smile. "It's no one's fault, or else it's both of ours. So we should really both just be thanking Bakura-kun, you know?"
"…Yes…" Atem's surprise melted into quiet appreciation as he focused on their hands, a relieved wonder in his eyes. "You're right."
Yuugi nodded, still smiling, and let his chest swell with the wonder of the contact, of simply touching… then let go.
Atem caught his hand as he pulled away. "Aibou."
Yuugi stopped, struck by the intent in the pharaoh's gaze, and his throat grew tight as he wondered– "Yeah?"
Atem searched his eyes in turn, as though he were looking for something. Something in Yuugi, or himself, he wasn't sure. But slowly the clouds and the fervency cleared away, and Atem's gaze grew simply beseeching. "Will you duel me, one last time?"
The simple request took Yuugi's breath away, and he smiled to keep himself from crying. "Of course I will." Atem's joyous smile only made it worse, and Yuugi forced himself to relax his grip on Atem's hand, before he could notice it shaking. "Right now?"
"No." Atem smiled down at their hands a moment before releasing Yuugi's, freeing it to drop to his side, where he could press it against his thigh to still it. "Tomorrow, once we arrive. I don't think anyone would mind waiting."
"No, I don't think they would." And that would be a good memory.
One last good memory to hold onto.
Atem's eyes said he was thinking the exact same thing… and that thought left no room for anything else.
There was nothing left to say.
Everything else stuck in Yuugi's throat as wrong, or unwise, or full of consequences he wasn't free to face.
Not if he wanted to keep smiling.
Not when Atem needed rest.
"You should sleep," Yuugi said, smiling as Atem sighed and eyed the bed.
"I know."
"Promise me."
"I will rest," he promised, looking back at him with a serene sort of exhaustion in his eyes, and a short silence fell, full of their mutual want to linger.
A want neither of them could indulge.
Atem made no protest when Yuugi turned to go, and simply offered a smile when he paused at the door to look back, his hand on the knob. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"You will." It sounded like another promise.
Yuugi took one last look, drinking in the sight of Atem smiling, acceptance and warmth in his eyes… then walked out the door.
He lingered on the other side once it was shut, hand still on the knob, aching to turn it and run back inside. Run back into Atem's arms and cry and scream things he had no business screaming, say things that could only come out broken and senseless.
He stood there with all of those desires, fighting them… and jumped when someone said his name.
"Yuugi-kun."
He whirled about, then relaxed when he saw it was his grandfather, standing in the doorway of a cabin a few doors down. "Jii-chan," he breathed, finding a smile in his relief that it was only him. "Don't scare me like that!"
His grandpa didn't answer, nor laugh. He just stared at him, like he saw things Yuugi knew he couldn't see. Yuugi hadn't actually allowed himself to cry, after all.
He still sobered as Sugoroku kept staring, though, eyeing him anxiously back. "What?"
"…Nothing! it's nothing." Clearly it was not nothing. And if Yuugi wasn't so wary of what it could be, he might have asked. Instead he kept silent, unsure of himself as his grandfather smiled at him and asked, "I was about to go to bed, but did you want to talk with me first? You could come in."
"Oh… No. I mean, not unless you want me to. But you're obviously going to bed, and I–" Yuugi touched his deck holster, looked down at it with fogged eyes, then shook away the thoughts threatening to bubble up. "I need to do something."
"Alright then," his grandfather accepted, but instead of saying good night and shutting the door, he crossed the hall, walking right up to Yuugi to grasp him by the shoulders.
Yuugi tensed at the touch, because what–
"I just want you to know," Sugoroku said, his voice quiet and intent as his eyes bore into Yuugi's, paralyzing him. "Whatever happens tomorrow, I will be here to listen if you need me. And I won't ask. When or if you want to talk about it, I'll be here."
Yuugi didn't breathe. Didn't speak. Just stared at his grandfather, not asking.
Sugoroku kept smiling, his gaze fond and sad as he patted Yuugi's cheek. Then he turned away. "Good night, my boy." He walked into his room, shutting the door behind him without a second glance.
Yuugi stared at that shut door for a good five seconds… and then the tears came.
He forced them back, clenching his teeth and his fists and sniffing sharply until he could relax into his skin without crying.
When it passed, he walked back to his cabin, stiff with the effort not to stumble.
"How long do you think they've been together?"
"We shouldn't talk about this," Honda said, frowning at Otogi even as he accepted a soda from him.
"Why?" Otogi countered, completely unfazed by the scolding as he took a seat in a deck chair between Honda and Bakura's. "It's not like it's something to be ashamed of. We'd talk about it if it was some girl you were dating, wouldn't we?"
"It's just private."
"They did keep it to themselves if it's true," Bakura agreed, his eyes tired but thoughtful as he stared out across the waters… then Otogi tapped him on the shoulder with a second soda can. He accepted it with a smile, letting it drop off his face the second he looked down to pop the drink open. "I suspected there might be something going on, given the way they looked at each other the night they had sushi at my place. And then I noticed other things, later on… But I was never sure, and it didn't seem right to ask."
"I wondered myself," Otogi said, taking a sip from his own soda before adding, "Given how they acted at the amusement park, and the mall the day before when they helped me out? Then at Atem's birthday party? It all just screamed couple to me–"
"Again, why are we talking about this?"
"Why are you being so prickly about it, Honda?"
"Because!" he snapped, glaring at Otogi and Bakura as they both gaped at him. "If it's true, think about how hard it must be for them! Realizing they have feelings for each other, having to hide them, having to part now?"
Honda knew he wasn't being fair. He was letting his own guilt and doubts color his opinion of Otogi and Bakura's innocent curiosity and acceptance. And Honda had believed Atem when he said he shouldn't feel bad about it, bringing up his suspicions of his feelings. Their feelings. But then Honda saw Yuugi's distress at the airport, and his quiet smiles since…
And Atem.
Honda didn't apologize. Just turned away from Otogi and Bakura's baffled eyes, grumbling into his drink, "Just, don't. If they wanted us to know, they would have said something."
"I guess…"
"…If they thought we would accept it."
Honda looked up at the quiet words.
Bakura was staring out across the water again, a haunted look on his pale face.
He'd been making that face off and on ever since the airport.
Honda shared a short, worried look with Otogi, then asked, "Hey, Bakura? You alright? That stuff you said to the other Bakura–"
Bakura turned back to him with a smile Honda wasn't sure he should trust it. "Yes, I'm fine. It was all stuff I already knew, after all. In a way, I'm glad. Glad that he's free. I just wish we could have done more for him."
"…Inside knowledge or not, though," Otogi said, breaking the short, thick silence that followed. "It was pretty ballsy of you to go out there and talk down a demon."
Bakura blinked at Otogi's smile, then looked away, a faint grin on his face. But his eyes remained serious. "He wasn't a demon."
Honda shared another look with Otogi, and earned a faint shrug.
Neither of them knew what to say.
So they just sat there, with Bakura, offering their company and whatever comfort it might bring as they stared out across the waters.
Jounouchi knocked on the door, frowning at the wood until Atem called through it, "It's open!"
He let himself in, walking inside and leaning his back into the door to shut it. "Hey."
Atem was sitting at a table covered in cards, one still in his hand as he smiled Jounouchi's way… but that smile faded quickly when he saw the look on Jounouchi's face. "…Hey."
Jounouchi nodded, but stayed where he was, staring at cards he couldn't even see properly as he gathered his thoughts. Eventually, he gave up on finding some delicate way to say it, and just looked Atem straight in the eye. "You and Yuugi. You're together, aren't you?"
Atem's expression blanked out, shock and rage and panic all playing as possibilities over empty eyes– but Jounouchi knew he was just imagining all of those emotions. In truth, Atem was entirely unreadable. His body language spoke volumes though, his entire form stiff, that card in his hand hanging unnaturally in the air, like he wouldn't let himself move even to put it down.
The silence dragged on, Atem offering no answer.
Which was all the answer Jounouchi needed.
He sighed loudly, scratching his head with both hands as he slumped back against the door. "Talk about feeling like the last to know."
Atem turned away to face the table, the secret being out and stated sapping all of the tension out of him until he was blank-faced and quiet. "How did you know?"
"It was kind of hard to miss, what with that hug back at the airport." Not that hugs meant anything on their own: Jounouchi would hug Yuugi any day of the week, especially crying. But he'd never been tempted to hold Yuugi like that, or whisper in his ear or rub their cheeks together. And the look Yuugi gave Atem when they finally relaxed their grips on each other! Jounouchi didn't know he knew what an 'I'm dying to kiss you right now' face looked like until he actually saw it, but that was definitely it. If the security hadn't cut in and dragged them off at right that moment, Jounouchi suspected Yuugi might have actually done it.
Seriously, Jounouchi was not sure how Isis got them out of that mess.
He snorted at the memory, but quickly tensed, focusing back on Atem. The pharaoh was staring at him again, like he was waiting for something, his eyes dark and guarded.
And Jounouchi eventually realized… did Atem think he was confronting him or something?
He shook his head. "I just wanted to know. What with you leaving, and…" he waved awkwardly between them, unsure how to put it.
Atem did relax a little at the assurance, but his gaze remained insistent. "He doesn't want any of you to worry about it."
Jounouchi scowled at the claim, irritated affection in his voice as he snapped, "He would make a huge call like that just to–"
"Jounouchi-kun."
He focused back on the pharaoh and saw that, finally, some open emotion had touched Atem's face.
Anxiety. "Please, I understand why you'd want to help him, but let him bring it up in his own time, when he wants to. If he ever wants to. Once I'm gone–"
"I get it, don't push him over it," Jounouchi interrupted, and the fear faded instantly from Atem's face. He nodded, Jounouchi mimicking the gesture as he frowned at the carpet. "I'll tell the others."
"Thank you."
He nodded again, mind a murky blur as he processed the conversation. Because his suspicions were true. And he would have to look after Yuugi, find ways to help him without directly talking about it, after Atem–
"Is that why you came to see me?"
Jounouchi looked up, saw Atem still watching him, more curious than guarded now– and shrugged, forcing his back off of the door to walk a couple steps into the room. "Sorta. Just, knowing that? It made me think even more about what will happen once you're gone." The veil fell back across Atem's face, a thick film of… determination? Whatever it was, it obscured Atem's reaction as Jounouchi spoke. "And I just wanted you to know, I've got your back."
Atem frowned, searching his eyes as though he expected more. As if that couldn't be all he meant.
Jounouchi ignored it, shaking his head against whatever Atem might say, because he just needed to get it all out while the words were still in his head. "If you're going, if it turns out that the Ishtars are right and that door opens for you, and you go? We'll accept that. So you shouldn't worry about us. Or Yuugi. Because I'll be here."
…
Atem smiled.
And though it didn't quite touch his eyes, they were still warm. "I know that."
Jounouchi gave a stiff nod as he stared into those veiled red eyes, not sure if he wanted to see past Atem's calm or not. "…What do you think you'll find there, on the other side?"
Atem looked surprised by the question, but turned thoughtful eyes on the window, playing with the card he still held: Spiral Spear Strike. Jounouchi recognized the art when it caught the light. "My place. The people I lost, and don't remember to love. My memories, and a proper… my original sense of identity. Who I was as a person, before Zorc." Atem said it all distantly, with a sort of wonder in his voice. Like he knew it all, but had forgotten the truth of it until he himself said it.
And Jounouchi watched, relaxing a little at what he saw in Atem just then. It wasn't yearning, nor excitement, but– "Thanks. I pretty much knew that already, but it still helps to hear it. I'll keep it in mind tomorrow. It'll help… And I suggest you do the same."
Atem looked back at him, an uncertain tension to his stare. But Jounouchi kept talking, his own gaze pointed. "If this is what you want, then the best thing you can do is move forward without any regrets, right? So, don't regret. Don't hesitate, for your own sake. For all of ours. It won't help anything."
Atem nodded, then found a smile for him. "You're right. Thank you."
Jounouchi nodded, and found a smile of his own, crossing the length of the room to embrace the seated king.
Atem was stiff in his arms, but slowly hands clasped his elbows, reciprocating the hold as Jounouchi lingered, bent over the smaller man, prolonging the contact a few heartbeats before finally straightening.
When he stood, Atem was still smiling.
Jounouchi beamed back, nodding again. "Okay! Then, I'm not going to say goodbye. Not until the very last second. But I promise you, I'll see you off the right way. No tears."
Atem fell into a smirk, good and familiar and him. "Aa."
Jounouchi huffed, said, "That's right!" with only a grin, then made for the door with a wave over his shoulder. "See ya tomorrow, Atem!"
"Until then."
Jounouchi shut the door behind him, still smiling… but as he stood there, the solitude and the silence of the hall sinking in, his smile fell. He turned back and stared at that door, the bare facts blaring back to life in full color, without comfort or message, and–
He shook his head, grit his teeth against the burn in his eyes, and turned away, brushing a hand against a still dry cheek.
No tears.
Anzu leaned over the rail and stared into the river, watching the waves swell and break and fall in the wake of the ship. The movements were rough, but endless and predictable and easy to follow as she remained lost in her thoughts… even though there was nothing to think about.
Nothing at all.
Everything was settled. Everything decided. Nothing left to do but wait for the end. An end that she had fought every step of the way, turned over and over again in her head in a desperate search for an alternative, any alternative, until it could be called nothing but self-torture.
And now it was all for nothing. It was going to happen.
"Ah–" The sound of another voice was almost a relief, but Anzu still jumped in surprise before looking back– into Yuugi's smiling face. "Couldn't sleep either?"
"…Yeah," she confirmed, breathing out the word on a shaky sigh as Yuugi offered her an apologetic grin.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you… Do you mind if I join you for a minute?"
"No. No, of course not."
Yuugi nodded and crossed the deck, leaning his elbows over the rail beside her. His stance prompted Anzu to retake her own position, and she looked out again over the water… and at Yuugi, out of the corner of her eye.
He looked calm, but distant, his stare pointed fully forward, gaze fogged and pinned on something out on the horizon that Anzu suspected wasn't even there.
Behind them, their friends' voices hummed in the distance over the waves, and Anzu glanced back when a sharp new addition marked Jounouchi among the group. She couldn't see any of them, though. The others were all at the front of the boat, on the main deck… and the fact that Yuugi had come to the stern deck when he could have joined them– "Did you want to be alone?" Or was he perhaps looking for her?
Yuugi shook his head, eyes still on the river. "Just some fresh air and leg room. I'd say hi to the others, but I only wanted to come up for a minute. If I met with everyone, we'd probably end up talking a while, so… if it was alone time I wanted, I would've stayed in the cabin."
"…Is Atem-kun not there with you?"
"Hmm? Oh, no. He's in his own room."
She was already looking at him, so it was impossible to do a double-take. But Anzu still sucked in a breath and stared at him, searching for… but there was no shift in Yuugi's demeanor at the topic. No sign of distress at his own words.
He was just as distracted and distant as before.
"…I thought… I assumed you two would spend the rest of the trip together."
Yuugi smiled then, but there was nothing happy about the look, and he glanced at her only a moment before turning back to the river, dodging her worried eyes. "He needs his rest, if he'll take it. I don't want to keep him up… and we said our goodbyes back in Domino."
He said it like that was supposed to be reassuring.
Satisfying.
And Anzu just stared at him, tension growing in the quiet until she asked, "Is that really alright?"
Yuugi didn't dismiss her. Not instantly. He stalled, staring down at the arms he'd folded on the rail. He looked caught in some internal search. Or, perhaps a debate. Either way, he nodded after a moment, voice subdued but steady. "Yeah, it's okay."
"But–" she started, and Yuugi smiled. Looked at her with kind eyes, like he had expected some sort of protest or push. Like a part of him even appreciated it. It twisted her heart to see it, and she fought back the urge to look away, stared more pointedly in her insistence to keep his gaze. "Are you really okay with this, Yuugi-kun?" Was he just being brave? Selfless? He had to be hurting! She knew he had to be, no matter how calmly he looked at her. She knew him, after all, and saw what everyone else did back at that airport.
She knew him.
As he knew her.
It was there in his eyes. Fondness for her care, and the shadow of feelings he would not share, because they would only worry her… and sympathy for what she herself must be going through.
Given her own feelings.
It was hard to keep meeting his gaze, seeing that in him. If she was seeing that in him, and not just painting those feelings there.
But then Yuugi actually asked, "Are you alright, Anzu-chan?" So gentle about it.
She glowered, frustrated. Eyes burning. "That's just like you, Yuugi-kun! It's the worst and the best part of you. Worrying about everyone else, never yourself!"
Yuugi grinned, eyes dancing in the dark. "I could say the same about you."
Anzu pinched her lips against a reply, tense with barely contained thoughts and regretting that she ever spoke– and then not. Why weren't they speaking of this? Why had she herself allowed defeat and despair to strike her already? Why were they all just quietly accepting that this was the way things had to be? Was there any reason for all of this dread and pain? Was there not some way–
But, despite that aching urge to speak, to protest… she didn't. Couldn't when Yuugi smiled at her like that, with such quiet, hard-earned peace. And he didn't give her time to second guess herself, letting the silence hang only a beat before stepping back from the rail. "I should go. I need to finish something in my room. I just wanted to step outside for a minute. Get away from it all for a second."
Anzu grimaced to hear that, silent as he stepped away… then she turned and called his name, prompting him to look back. "I'm sorry." He had meant to take his mind off of the matter for a while, and she had just–
But Yuugi shook his head. "Never apologize for caring, Anzu-chan."
And he smiled at her. For her. So sweetly and genuinely that Anzu could only stare.
The brightness… that brightness that always, should always touch his smile.
That soft, laughing air that was simply Yuugi.
It wasn't there.
She held it together barely long enough for him to turn and walk away… then she let the tears fall. Turned away, back to the waters, as they fell freely down her cheeks.
She thought she was done with tears. That she had no more to spare. But no, whatever peace she had found in the last few weeks, it could never change what was about to happen. That she was going to watch two people precious to her walk into their own heartbreak without a single protest.
There was no peace be found in that.
The weight of the cape was a comfort.
Atem straightened the folds about his neck and his golden shoulder guard, his eyes on the table as he dressed without much thought for the task. Donning the garb of a king proved to be surprisingly easy, as though he had done so countless times before, though logic said servants must have helped him with the process every day of his life, a lifetime ago.
Perhaps he had not had many direct attendants before he took the crown. He assumed he did, but he hadn't actually read much about the daily life of royals who weren't the king. Perhaps it was usual for a prince to do such things for himself.
Or, perhaps he had been uncomfortable with most touching him back then, too.
Whatever the reason, he flowed seamlessly through dressing, hesitating only when he considered what remained on the table.
There was no reason to bring anything with him, save his cards. Jounouchi had promised to loan him his Duel Disk for the battle first thing that morning, so that was taken care of.
And he didn't need his glasses. Atem knew his cards' text by heart, and there shouldn't be enough time for a headache to develop. So he didn't pick up his violet specs, still on the table where he'd left them from the night before.
But, the other accessories…
It was a quick decision to toss the leather cord he'd been using for the Puzzle into his duffel, for as much as he liked it, he had no real attachment to the thing.
His ankh pendant, though, he could easily excuse taking with him. It had been at his neck in the world of memories, after all, been his conduit to Horakhty and helped him stop Zorc after the museum collapsed. Never mind it was also a gift from a dear friend. It was a simple decision to put it back on and tuck it beneath the collar of his tunic.
The earrings, though… they were a different matter.
Atem played with the rings of gold and blue already on his fingers as he stared at the crank game prize, the false gold and modern Tetris shape a sharp contrast to the heavy earrings already dangling from his ears. If he wore what the memory world granted him, he could not wear those earrings. And he had no pockets to carry them in.
Logic and common sense said he should leave them behind. And beyond that, he couldn't shake the sense that things of the present should not be taken through that door. For whatever reason, it just shouldn't happen.
…He picked them up anyways. Pinned them to the inside of his cape, where the drapes at his neck would hide the earring backs.
The sense of 'shouldn't' lingered on, like a person present in the room, staring at him as he gave into his own foolishness, and Atem dodged their nonexistent eye as he stuffed everything else into his bag.
His glasses were the last to go in, glinting in the folds of a wrinkled t-shirt as he zipped it shut.
Atem left the bag on the table, picked up his deck holder, and walked out of the door, down the hall and down the same path he took the day before to board the ship– to the ramp leading to land.
Everyone was there, waiting for him.
They looked up through the light of the morning sun to face him as he left the ship, a ripple of surprise passing across their faces before they settled back into quiet, subdued stares and smiles.
Atem smiled back as he reached the bottom of the ramp, stepping out onto the sands, but frowned as he quickly noticed a crucial absence.
Yuugi wasn't there.
He searched the faces quickly, already knowing he wouldn't find him, but the motion must have spoken for itself, for Jounouchi volunteered, "He hasn't come out yet. Neither has his grandpa."
"Do not worry," Isis assured, smiling reassuringly at him. "If they do not come out momentarily, I will go back and look for them myself."
"No need," Atem said, dismissing the embarrassment that rolled through his gut as he realized Sugoroku wasn't there, either, and he hadn't even noticed, offering the Ishtar lady and the rest of the group a confident smile before focusing back on the ship. "They will come."
And he was right. It took a few, unnaturally quiet minutes, but soon enough Sugoroku and then Yuugi walked out of the ship, the elder of the two smiling Atem's way as they stepped off the ramp. "We stopped by your room to walk you out, but you were already gone."
"Sorry, I would have waited had I known," Atem apologized, eyes drifting and catching on his partner.
Yuugi offered him a smile. Small, and silent, but steady. As kind as always.
And Atem was caught… but he forced himself to smile back and turn away, towards Isis. "I'm ready."
She nodded, then faced a cliff not far from them, away from the river. "This way, everyone."
They followed, the trek proving to be a short one as they walked across the desert in the early morning light, the sun hot but not yet scorching in the sky.
No one spoke, but Atem found solace in that silence as they neared the rocks, staring at the back of his partner's head, the simple focus keeping needless thoughts and truths at bay.
He just needed to move forward.
As they approached a break in the cliff – a clearly man-made doorway set in its side – Rishid motioned for them to follow Isis and Malik through it, and down the steps beyond. And as they did, Atem felt the air and the tension folding in around them, compacting into the space with them to leave them hyper-aware of what was happening. Of what awaited them below. What would happen there.
Then the steps ended, and space opened up again.
A room of dark stone lay before them, robed figures standing before stone columns that broke up and supported the long hall, and led the way to the far end where a raised dais featured a person-shaped tablet Atem recognized on sight.
And a door.
It was just as it had looked in the photo Rishid gave him, save for the great eye upon its front. It glowed.
Glowed as the tablet glowed, with a bright, rich golden light that shuddered and flickered as he looked at it.
Atem saw them, and knew.
This was it. This was truly meant to be.
He had expected it. Was ready to steel himself against the knot twisting in his gut, deny the tension in his neck and keep going.
Keep walking.
"Why are we doing this?"
He stopped.
Everyone did, a few freezing where their stood, a few turning around to look over behind Atem.
At Anzu.
But he could not see her, or their reactions. He was not one of those who turned. He stayed as he was, stiff and unresponsive as he stared– not at the door, but the back of Yuugi's head. While Anzu repeated, "Why? Does it… does it really have to be this way?"
Atem didn't answer, heart heavy with the shamed distress in her voice. So Malik answered for him, his calm, undisturbed tones a harsh contrast to Anzu's. "This is what the prophecies say is supposed to happen. It's what everything's been for."
"And if the magic has lingered solely to keep the way open for him," Isis agreed, her words gentle, the silent sympathy in her voice putting an ugly taste in Atem's mouth. "It must be because he is meant to use it to leave."
"But why? Zorc is gone, isn't he? And so are the Items, but Atem-kun is still here! I don't care how it happened, or what magic caused it. He is still here, so why can't he stay? What's the harm? If they let him stay until now, why would the gods insist he leave now?"
No one answered.
The faces Atem could see in his periphery were troubled, or uncomfortable, but he still did not look directly at any of them. Didn't speak, silenced by the facts he knew he should say.
He had died.
He was dead.
Died three thousand years ago. He was there on borrowed time, and by accident– or by intention that no longer applied. However natural the heartbeat in his chest felt, his very existence wasn't natural.
And the door was left open to fix it. To let him go. Lead him to where he belonged.
Not there.
He wasn't supposed to be there. The gods–
"Screw the gods."
Atem's breath caught.
He turned his head, just a little. Just enough to look at Jounouchi, standing just behind him.
He was frowning at Anzu. "This isn't about what the gods want, Anzu, or Zorc. We're doing this for Atem. He's come all this way and gone through hell to make it here, and it's our job to support him until the very end. And if he needs us to walk him to that door and send him off with a smile, then that's what we're going to do."
Atem wanted to smile at him. To cry. Embrace his friend and thank him for the refusal of pain he offered.
But he was too tired. His bones felt like lead. Like they truly were thousands of years old, not meant for movement or life. And a part of him was grateful that the group wasn't moving, that they were unsure if they should move on. If that was the end of the fight or not.
Anzu proved it wasn't, her voice quiet and painfully thin as it rose again in the echoing quiet. "But… does he need to?"
"Wants to."
Atem sucked in another breath, nearly choked on it as he focused again, sharply, on Yuugi.
He had turned around to face them. To speak. "If this is what he wants, then I want it, too. We should want it, too." And he looked at Atem, and smiled. Smiled for him. "We can do that for him." Eyes warm, and loving.
And happy.
Atem looked into Yuugi's eyes, saw nothing but happiness… and his heart broke.
Because it was a lie.
A lie of kindness, and strength, and in many ways actually true, but still a lie .
A lie that… Atem was telling, too.
To others. To himself. A lie that he'd been telling for far, far too long.
Because the truth could only hurt.
Because he had to.
Because it was necessary.
…
Wasn't it?
Yuugi was still smiling at him. but when Atem didn't reply, didn't smile back, he turned away. Started forward again.
No one spoke. The tight tension in the air released, yielding, and everyone ahead of Atem turned to follow Yuugi, a shuffling of feet at Atem's back saying the ones behind him were walking as well.
He didn't.
Otogi's voice floated over the back of his head, calling his name, but he didn't answer. His heart was pulsing and his skin was clammy and he could feel Yuugi's gold against his throat and his mouth was moving– "What if I don't want to?"
They stopped.
Stared at him as he stared at the back of Yuugi's head, numb to everything, his own shock and his friends' shock and what he just said and everything except the fact Yuugi wasn't turning around. Wasn't looking at him.
But Atem saw Sugoroku's face in his periphery, and shifted his gaze to him. Realized that he, at the head of the group with Isis and Malik, could see his grandson's face. He was watching Yuugi.
So Atem watched him, searching for light.
"…What if you don't want to leave?"
"Yes," Atem answered, numb to the amazement in Malik's question. A part of him had splintered off beneath the confession, screamed that it was wrong of him to speak, to admit to such a want even as a if. But he also knew– no, believed that part of him was no fate or god speaking to him. The only thing making him clench his hands and clutch his deck holder to the point of hurting was his own conscience, flailing against his audacity– that he would dare–
But a terrified thrill passed across Sugoroku's face, and Atem found his tongue. "I will leave in a heartbeat if it's necessary. If it means making sure Zorc doesn't come back and taking the last of his magic with me. But if that isn't necessary… if it's a choice?" He shifted his gaze, just for a moment, to look at Isis.
She had no answers for him, he knew that. And yet there was still comfort to be found in her soft smile, the shake of her head. "I do not know what will happen if you stay, my pharaoh. If the gods are simply offering you the reward you have earned, your memories and divine place in the afterlife, or if you are supposed to leave, and they expect it of you. But," she added, smile suddenly brighter with the allowance. "As I cannot see that truth, it is your right to interpret their actions as you see fit."
It was no guarantee.
If he spoke, it might mean nothing but more heartbreak, more consequences than Atem could even imagine… but, it was also proof that it wasn't foolish to hope.
And Atem saw in their faces– in Sugoroku's face. It was too late to pretend. Too late to smile and claim he wanted what he did not want.
They had lost that comfort, and found hope, instead.
All that was left was to acknowledge it.
"Then, if it is a matter of choice," Atem told the back of his partner's head. "I would stay."
The world erupted.
Someone sobbed and somebody else yelled something and hands grabbed Atem and tripped him and supported him, wrapped him up in hugs that left him stumbling and looking up into wet, relieved faces. And he smiled, looked back at them all with fond eyes… before focusing forward again.
On his partner.
Yuugi hadn't moved since Atem spoke. Since he first spoke, and there was nothing to read through Sugoroku anymore. The older man's face was too full of his own smiles and tears to act as a mirror.
So Atem tried to step forward and make him turn– but his friends refused to release him, still shaking against the back of his shoulders.
So he called to him.
"Aibou."
Yuugi whipped around, and Atem got one quick, soul-shaking look at a face utterly shattered before his arms were full, closing around a partner who sobbed into his shoulder.
Atem let him. Let Yuugi's distress and relief roll over him like a tide, sharp and hot and cutting to the soul… and accepted it, undisturbed.
No, not undisturbed. His heart was full, swelling with all that Yuugi had clearly been holding back. All he had been willing to endure– for him.
And he would have. Yuugi would have carried that weight long after Atem walked through that door. Would have moved forward alone, on his own, just fine… but Atem wouldn't ask it of him.
He didn't want to.
And if the gods were kind, he wouldn't have to.
Atem held him, let Yuugi cry in his arms without a single tear of his own, content even as Honda stifled sobs in the back of his shoulder and Jounouchi crushed his ribs. And when he looked back, Atem saw Otogi smiling at them, his gaze unusually bright, while Bakura rubbed sharply his cheeks and hugged Anzu to his side. Because she saw sobbing, too, pressing a hand to her mouth to stifle the sounds as she stared at him with shaky, unbelieving relief.
Atem smiled at her, gratitude in his heart and a thanks on his tongue that he would save for later, when he could offer it properly.
For now, he looked to his partner, whose face was still buried in his shoulder. "Don't cry, aibou. There's no need for tears."
"There goddamn is, you asshole!"
Atem grinned for Jounouchi's invading protest, but his focus remained on Yuugi, on the way his hands had twisted up in the back of his tunic to clutch fistfuls of fabric as he shook and sobbed. But he had heard him, and he gave one last, big sniff, and finally spoke. "Sorry, I just… I didn't expect you to…"
Atem's heart clenched for the broken words. For what Yuugi didn't say. And a thousand things filled Atem's head, things he longed to say, to deny and disprove and assure– but Jounouchi's grip was starting to hurt, and someone was stepping on his cape. And while Atem was tempted to damn the consequences, it really wasn't the time. Or the place.
So he waited. Waited until they naturally quieted, Jounouchi letting go to distance himself and gather his wits while someone coaxed Honda away, Otogi crowing a soft, "There, there," behind Atem's back.
And Yuugi finally relaxed his own hold, drawing back enough to look at him. And Atem smiled into those panicked, hopeful eyes, reaching up to rub a few tears away.
Yuugi's eyes squeezed shut at his touch, and he shook beneath Atem's fingertips, and Atem leaned in a bit, wanting to kiss him, or press his brow to his… but the crown would just get in the way.
He forced himself to look away, focus on the Ishtars even as he squeezed both of his partner's arms, trying to steady him. "Sorry. I may have called us out here for nothing."
The brothers stared, openly caught somewhere between disbelief and wonder, but Isis remained largely unflustered, her manner merely hesitant as she shook her head at him. "There is no need to apologize. But, are you certain, Pharaoh? I am happy for you, if this is your choice, but I cannot say what will happen."
"There's no way the door will stay open forever," Malik added, a faint frown growing on his face with the warning. "And there's no promise that you'll get back your memories if you die naturally, assuming you're even capable of that. And without your memories of the rites to guide you through the ancient tests, you may never cross over properly, nevermind reclaim your throne on the other side."
Malik was right. Turning his back on that door meant abandoning the promise of his memories, and who he had been: The Pharaoh Atem.
If he turned away, he might be closing that door forever.
Atem knew that. Breathed in that possible truth… and looked beyond the Ishtars and Sugoroku, to the stone eye of the door, still glowing in the dark.
He could see it, all of the reasons he should walk through that door, and on to his destiny. Back to the world he had lost, and the people he loved. He knew so little of them, nothing in some cases, but he knew in his soul that he had loved, and been loved.
For so long, he had been searching for his purpose, a wordless voice inside of him urging him ever onwards, towards that end.
To them.
To himself, the king who died so long ago.
A king that by design or fate or accident… wasn't him.
Not anymore.
He was someone else. A person already surrounded by love, no magic left at his fingertips, but rich in support. A person with a name he didn't know and a purpose he followed blindly every step of the way… and memories all his own. Of fights, and hardships, secrets and regrets and doubts, joy and pain and friendship, and the support of family. A home shared and laughter found. A hundred kisses and a thousand smiles… and love.
He had experienced them all.
All of it, himself, in his own skin.
Because he was alive.
He'd known that ever since he had his eyes checked, but still, he never imagined that truth could outlast the magic. The Items, and Zorc.
But it had.
He was still there, alive.
And if those souls he could only half-remember loved him as he thought? Loved him as he loved his friends and family and partner? …They had called it the afterlife. Imagined eternity as a shining, beautiful mirror of the days they spent among the living. They could imagine nothing better than simply living.
Would anyone who believed that – anyone who loved him – wish him to die? To stop living?
He knew he wouldn't, because he wanted everyone circled around him right then to live. Whether he was there or not, Atem wanted all of them to live every day of their lives to the fullest.
And for the first time, he accepted that that was what he wanted for himself, too.
The gods could keep his purpose. They could keep the Pharaoh Atem.
"Mutou Atem is enough for me," he breathed, knowing the words would be strange to everyone but himself.
But Sugoroku's teary smile grew, like he understood. And when Atem focused back on his partner, he saw that Yuugi's eyes were still shut. That he was breathing deep, lips twisted against further tears, like he was trying to take it all in and it was too much. So much more than he had ever expected.
But when Atem shifted a hand to his shoulder, Yuugi looked at him, and his purple eyes were steadier than Atem had expected. Clearer, and soaked in anxious, revived hope.
Was it true? Was he really–
Atem smiled.
"So, it's true? You're really going to…"
Atem looked back at Honda's rough, 'echoing' words, and smiled for him, too. For all of them. All of their friends, standing there, right at his back. They were always there at his back. "Yes. I will stay."
The ground shook.
Atem's foot slipped, and he squeezed Yuugi's arms as his partner clutched his waist, the two of them keeping one another upright as Atem looked up– and stared in horror.
A web of cracks had splintered out from the eye on the door.
No–
Atem's stomach dropped faster than the rocks as the light faded and the entire door collapsed, buried beneath its own debris as Atem could only watch, appalled at the sight and dreading and hating what he had just brought down on them all.
What had he–
The cracks spread away from the lost door, across the walls and floor and the ceiling.
The entire room shuddered.
"Come on!" There was another sharp tug at his neck as someone pulled on his cape, and Atem looked back to see Jounouchi glaring demands down at him, and– "Go!"
Atem found his feet, his grip grappling on Yuugi until he found his hand, holding on as they rushed together after Jounouchi and their friends, out of the chamber and up the stairs, alarm burning through their senses as the stones shook and dust sprayed and more cracks danced up the walls, the same as the door, would they get out, was it only the chamber and the stairs or the whole world–
But the sky was still there when they burst out into the sunlight, falling to the sands in heaps and gasps before stumbling and crawling out of the way for the people behind them. And once out, Atem quickly found his feet again to turn and watch as the Ishtars and Sugoroku and those robed strangers all burst out into the open air, dropping to the ground beside them.
Rishid was back up in a second, rushing to those strangers as his eyes swept over the whole lot of them. "Are you all alright?! Did everyone get out?!"
"W-we think so, yes, Rishid-sama!"
"Do you think so or are you sure? How many were down there?!"
"J-just us four– yes, this is all of us!"
They all got out.
They were safe.
And though Atem eyed the opening in the cliff with dread, he could not hear anymore rocks splintering or falling. The tremors had passed.
Everything was silent.
And slowly, as everyone else climbed to their feet to stare at the opening with him, the ache and guilt and fear in Atem's bones faded… the divine wrath he had feared did not come…
…And Isis spoke first, feeling out the truth for herself through words. "It appears the way shut when you made your decision… the door is gone."
Gone.
The chance for him to leave, to find his memories and all he had lost, was gone.
Atem lifted the hand still holding his deck, and squeezed it. Felt the slick fabric of the holder against his palm. His fingertips.
He could feel it.
He was still there.
It was over.
"So you stayed."
He whirled about, shock sparking through him.
Kaiba was there, just a few yards away, a gleaming white jet in the shape of a dragon resting in the sands a distance behind him.
And Mokuba was right by his side, his grin wide and smug. "Ha! I knew Onii-san was right! There was no way you were going to leave!"
Atem had just enough time to recover and smirk before Jounouchi snapped, "What the hell are you guys doing here?!"
"Did you come to see me off?" Atem asked, earning a snort in reply.
"I told you, I knew you wouldn't go," Kaiba half-repeated, his voice satisfied. But his smirk faded fast as he focused on Atem properly, apparently just then noticing his gold and ancient clothing.
It made Atem think of turtle aprons and cobwebs in his hair.
"Because you knew he would stay." They both turned and looked at Yuugi, and Atem's gut twisted to see the tear stains still drying on his partner's cheeks. A glance Kaiba's way said he noticed them, too, as there was an unacceptable level of disdain on his face as he stared at Yuugi.
But there was no need to confront it.
Yuugi stared right back at Kaiba through reddened eyes, gaze unbending and unashamed and oddly sympathetic… and it was Kaiba who looked away first, as though he were dismissing Yuugi completely.
He wasn't.
"You refused to ever believe he would go, but you still had to come and see, just to be sure."
Atem's smirk grew at his partner's words, even as Kaiba tossed back, "I just wanted to see for myself that I was right, and to say that I will take you up on your offer," he added, looking back at Atem. "Even if I'm not in Domino when you get back. Or anytime soon."
Atem nodded, relaxing with the release of actually being able to say, "I look forward to it." Because he did. And he could.
Kaiba didn't say anything else. Didn't even nod. He just turned away with single, satisfied look, and walked back to his jet, his stride so quick that Mokuba could only wave and say, "See ya later, guys! Glad you stayed!" before he had to run to catch up.
"Seriously, what the hell?!" Jounouchi snapped after them, voice dripping with his disbelief that anyone could be so ridiculous as to come halfway around the world just to say I told you so – but Honda just snorted, and Anzu swatted Jounouchi on the shoulder.
"Come on, you can whine all you want back on the boat– where I can't hear you," she teased, her smile shining as she turned to face Isis. "Is it alright if we go back to the boat?"
"Of course, Anzu-san. We may have to stay docked at the shore for a while while the workers confirm all is well – I suspect an excavation team will need to be arranged to clear the debris out – but I would be happy to escort everyone. And while I am on the boat, I can contact the airport and see if there is an extra seat on the plane back to Domino…"
Atem smiled at Isis's words, but turned away from the conversation, staring at the cliff opening and broken stairs as he let the truth and permanence of what he had done seep through him.
No.
No, he was waiting. Waiting to see if this felt wrong. Like he had indulged in something forbidden, and if shame would overtake him. A sense of failure.
It didn't.
The peace he had found in that chamber lingered on, the only thing tinging it his own surprise, and an uncertainty unlike any he had ever known before.
Only one question echoed through his heart, wonderful and terrifying in its simplicity.
What now?
"Mou hitori no boku?"
He turned.
Yuugi was there, right beside him.
The only one there. When Atem looked for the others, he saw that they had all left. They were halfway to the ship, walking across the desert in a large, chattering group, their voices loud and happy and clear even across the sands.
Yuugi must have sent them on ahead, but Atem didn't ask. He just smiled, looked back to the cliff… and reached up.
He pulled the crown from his brow, turning it around to run his thumb over the carved eye, feeling its weight in his hand, familiar in a way only the familiar should be… but unimportant.
He looked to his partner. "Well, aibou? What do we do now?"
The soft happiness on Yuugi's face stuttered with surprise, then slipped back into joy, such sweet relief in his eyes that Atem could only look on lovingly as his partner wiped his cheeks, reached into his pocket, and pulled something out.
Atem looked down at what Yuugi offered him… and stared, shocked.
When had he–
"Now," Yuugi said, and Atem looked back up into his smile. Into his warm, happy eyes. "We go home."
…Atem smiled as well, eyed the offered item, then looked down at his own hands, full of crown and cards.
He turned to his partner and offered the crown.
Yuugi startled at the gesture, but his smile grew wider as he accepted it, trading the gold for the item in his hand.
Atem let their fingers brush in the exchange, their gaze lingering as he offered a quiet, belated, "Aa."
Yuugi beamed as Atem put on his glasses, and they took one last look at the cliff, shared one last look with each other, then turned to go.
Neither spoke.
Neither needed to.
They followed their friends, smiling as they made their way back to the ship.
Smiling as they made their way back home.
Together.