CHAPTER 28: HEAVEN CAN WAIT

BARGAINING: If you're watching a movie and a single pilot plane plummets to Earth, it's a safe bet that the pilot is toast, right? That's the mistake made by a rookie angel in "Here Comes Mr. Jordan," leaving supervising angel, Mr. Jordan, with a problem. The pilot, boxer Joe Pendleton was destined to live, but his body was cremated before the mix-up got sorted out, setting the stage for a round of body swapping with people whose tickets had been more definitively punched. Each switch brings Joe closer to his destiny as world champion, but each body, no matter how paper perfect, feels wrong, because each body isn't his, until Mr. Jordan figures out that the only way for Joe to live the life he's meant to (and marry the girl he's destined to) is if he forgets he was ever Joe Pendleton at all.

MORAL: A movie can be in the Criterion Collection. It can have won Academy Awards and be in all the Top 100 lists. And it's still okay to question the ending.

MORAL ADDENDUM: It's worth noting that the reason the whole convoluted mess got jump-started in the first place is because no one trusted the pilot's ability to save his own life.

Mokuba walked into the computer lab. He waited for the door to shut and lock behind him, then said, "MK Seto Kaiba Revised Avatar Draft 5." His brother appeared in front of him. He was in the outfit he'd worn throughout Battle City. He smiled when he saw Mokuba. "Hi, Mokuba. Nice shirt!"

Mokuba glanced down. His T-Shirt featured the proposed Kaiba Corporation mascot on a baby blue background, surrounded by the words, "Duel Links… Under Construction." The mascot was a Blue Eyes White Dragon of course, but it was a baby dragon, sporting a bright yellow hard hat. It looked serious, earnest, even. In Mokuba's eyes, it avoided the cartoon silliness that made the Blue Eyes Toon Dragon so objectionable. He'd designed it himself, partly to get a rise out of his brother – who'd pressed his lips together without comment – and partly because Mokuba knew in his heart, in a way his brother never could, that it was the right marketing move; it added a dash of humor to the often-intimidating face of Kaiba Corporation.

"You like it?" Mokuba asked.

"Yeah. It's funny. And I like the colors."

Mokuba frowned. His brother rarely commented on clothing except as a branding exercise or an expression of personality. He was more likely to describe the internal mechanism enabling his coat to billow out behind him than to note its color.

"Are you ready to play a game?" Seto asked.

Mokuba drew in a breath. His brother was smiling just the way he remembered from the orphanage. It fit fine on his older face, as if no time had passed, as if Gozaburo had never happened, as if he'd never been so desperate to avoid one more loss, he'd jettisoned himself out of the entire dimension. "Yeah. A game sounds great!"

Seto waited.

Mokuba considered what game to pick. He shuddered at the thought of Capmon; his brother had never liked it anyway. Duel Monsters was out. Mokuba hesitated. He missed playing chess with his brother, but playing it with his avatar felt wrong. He thought of Mancala and winced. He wanted something that wasn't loaded, that wouldn't bring up any memories, that would be a fresh start for them both. Something simple, something that kids played because they were too young for strategy.

"How about Babanuki?" Mokuba asked. It was a silly game. You took turns picking random cards from each other's hands trying to make matches. The kid left with the Joker lost. Even at the orphanage, his brother had considered it a waste of time, as if he'd always known he didn't have any to spare. Seto would draw himself up to his full height and announce, "Look at those losers. Babanuki doesn't teach you anything except to rely on luck and that's stupid." The kids had squealed every time someone got stuck with the Joker. Mokuba had never joined in.

"Sure thing!" the holographic Seto agreed.

Mokuba frowned.

They both sat on the floor, the way the kids had sat on the threadbare orphanage rug. Mokuba dealt all the cards, remembering how his brother would remind him that no matter the game, it was important to play the hand you were dealt; that any hand was winnable. He looked at Seto.

The avatar smiled back. "Ready?"

Mokuba nodded. They went through their hands, looking for pairs and placed them on the floor in front of them. Seto held out his remaining cards with the backs facing Mokuba. He picked one. Mokuba smiled. It wasn't the Joker. He added the Queen of Hearts he'd just snagged from Seto to the lone Queen in his hand and added them to the pile of pairs in front of him.

"Good pick," Seto said. "But the Joker has his eye on you!"

Mokuba held out his own deck. Seto eyed the patterned faces and selected the Eight of Clubs. He paired it with the Eight of Diamonds. Seto started talking about his plans for the motorcycle track at the back of the mansion. He redesigned it every year. This year, he was thinking of adding a topiary dragon as a permanent feature. Seto talked easily. They traded jokes along with their cards. And with each exchange, all Mokuba could think about was how his brother would never be sitting here choosing random cards while telling silly jokes and complimenting him on his meaningless picks, not in a million years.

Mokuba scowled. Seto looked exactly like the brother Mokuba had imagined. He was saying all the things Mokuba wanted to hear. They were having fun. Everything had worked out perfectly.

Except it hadn't.

"This is a stupid game and you're not real!" Mokuba snapped, throwing down his remaining cards.

"I'm real to you," Seto pointed out.

"No, you're not! You're not my brother!"

Seto pursed his lips. "Isn't that why you created me? Because you were dissatisfied with the original?"

"Shut up!"

The hologram obediently closed its lips, awaiting further instructions.

Mokuba groaned. "I didn't mean it."

The avatar blinked as though resetting itself. "It's okay, Mokuba. I love you. Do you want to play a different game?"

Mokuba stared at his imitation brother in horror, wishing he'd paid more attention in class when they'd had to analyze all those stories about people who'd gotten their heart's desire only to have it go horribly wrong. He'd almost been one of them.

Was this what Yugi had felt like when he'd completed the Puzzle? Mokuba shook his head as the color drained from his face. No, not Yugi... Bakura, slipping the Ring over his head for the first time.

Mokuba sobbed. Was this what his brother had felt like, the moment he'd beaten his holographic Atem, the moment he'd realized that none of it was real? Mokuba had never asked.

"It's sad, isn't it? Seeing what should have been? But you have the power to make this all real," Shadi said quietly.

"You're timing's off, for once," Mokuba said.

"What?"

Mokuba shook his head. "Never mind. It's not important."

The hologram stood by patiently as though waiting to be introduced – or for further instructions.

"So, this is the brother you remembered, the one you want to bring back."

Mokuba nodded. Seto's avatar smiled at Shadi.

"You're just as talented as your brother," Shadi said. "It's your destiny to be at his side, helping him regain his true self."

Mokuba was suddenly reminded of his brother – his real brother – telling him it was okay if he didn't know his brand yet, telling him that their choices counted for more than fate. "I love my brother," Mokuba said.

"I know."

"Sometimes he doesn't make good decisions. Sometimes he does things that are going to hurt him and it's like he doesn't even care."

"That's why he needs you," Shadi urged.

"Yes. He does. And I'm going to live up to it." Mokuba opened his eyes to their widest, his resemblance to a fluffy, innocent puppy more pronounced than ever.

The eyes were a different color, but Shadi was suddenly reminded of Diva, sitting at his feet. Malik had been young too. He'd once stared up at Shadi with the same wide-eyed look. Shadi frowned. He refused to turn back at the moment of success.

"I can't stay long without being detected. Your brother's security system is very good. You could change that any time you need my help." Shadi reached into his sleeve and drew out an oblong, velvet pouch. He paused. Taking it out of its sheath, placing it in the child's bare hand, metal touching flesh, would have been a step too far, might have caused Mokuba to shy away, like a started fawn.

Mokuba drew in a breath and reached out for the pouch. His hand closed around the velvet covered Rod. Shadi released his hold and vanished.

Mokuba was startled by how light the Rod actually was.

The weight was all in his mind.

Isis frowned at her computer. She considered getting up for coffee or water, but she'd tried both and neither had made her day less annoying. She slouched in her chair, then forced herself to sit up straight again. Work had been full of schedules she'd had to redo, plans she'd had to revise and unnecessary memos she'd had to write anyway. She'd alternated between answering other people's trivial queries and waiting for replies to her own – responses that either never came or didn't answer her questions.

Her phone vibrated. She took it out and glared at it. Yugi's name stared back at her as though in accusation. Isis groaned and put it on her desk. The last thing she wanted to do was to spend the next fifteen minutes avoiding answering Yugi's questions.

The phone gyrated on her desk. Isis frowned, unwilling to either pick it up or hit "Decline." Yugi's – or the pharaoh's – problems weren't her concern. She'd done her duty to her clan. She had a Millennium Item in her pocket. If destiny didn't exist, she wasn't fated to answer a phone at the end of a long, frustrating day. But while destiny might be a mirage, friendship and obligation weren't. She frowned. She owed Yugi and the pharaoh for Malik's return. Picking up the phone was a small price to pay in recompense. But if free will existed, didn't the right to choose her own actions, even for selfish reasons in trivial things, count too? Before Isis had resolved her latest philosophical conundrum, the phone stopped vibrating, the screen went black. Isis breathed a sigh of relief and got up. Maybe tea would help, after all.

Yugi frowned as his phone call went to voicemail. He turned to Jounouchi, who was helping him in the game shop before the start of his next shift at the hospital. "I'm not sure what to do. I feel a little funny calling Malik about Millennium Items. I don't want to bring up any bad stuff for him."

Jounouchi shrugged. "He'll be fine. I mean if me and Mai got over all that Millennium Items bullshit, and we were on the losing end, he can put on his big boy pants and deal. Besides, we're going to turn up a big fat goose egg. You remember him from Egypt. Not a sign of the evil Malik. I bet he's going to be surprised to hear there's Millennium Items on the loose again."

Yugi frowned. "You'd think Isis would have heard about an excavation site being raided and all."

"If I was them, I'd stay as far away as possible. I mean not only does that place have a bunch of cursed artifacts, but who wants to mess with Kaiba Corporation?"

Yugi smiled. "Good point. Okay, here goes nothing!"

Yugi's call interrupted Malik as he and Rishid were sitting on the balcony brainstorming ideas for upcoming vlog episodes.

They looked at Yugi's name in surprise, then at each other.

"Long time, no speak," Malik said as he put Yugi's video call on speakerphone. Rishid leaned over to see the screen. "What's up?"

Yugi looked at Jounouchi for inspiration.

"Just ask him," Jounouchi hissed in what he thought was a whisper.

"Ask me what? I'm guessing you don't want to do a guest appearance on our vlog… although hey, that could be fun!"

"Awesome! When are you going to be in Domino?" Jounouchi yelled into the phone.

"We'd love to see you guys!" Yugi added before catching himself. "But you're right, that's not why I called."

Yugi ran through the events as far as they knew them: Atem's return followed by Shadi's, the amnesia cases among duelists that had started and then stopped, the theft of the remaining Items, Shadi giving Pegasus the Eye and Pegasus handing it over to Atem.

"And you called me? Why?" Malik's voice rose to a scream. "Let me guess – you're afraid I have the Rod in my back pocket! Like I'm just waiting for the chance to force everyone around me to become my mind slaves! I've got news for you. It's my life and nothing – not destiny or a hunk of cursed gold and Shadi are messing with it again!"

Rishid put his hand on Malik's shoulder. Malik looked up, took a breath and nodded. "I'm sorry," Malik said quietly. "You have a right to be suspicious of me."

"No! We weren't. Honest!" Yugi said. "We just heard that Shadi was seen in Egypt and wondered if you knew anything."

"Yeah," Jounouchi broke in, leaning too close to the phone and talking too loudly as if his voice could reach Egypt, unaided. "You should know by now, we have no problems crying friends with people we threw down with. You stopped Evil Malik. We're cool."

"Thanks," Malik said quietly.

"No problem! Love your vlog! I wish you would come here, well after we get this Shadi sitch sorted out. Living well is the best revenge. Die mad about it!"

Malik laughed.

"Shadi's dangerous. We hoped you had seen him," Yugi said. "Or that Isis had heard of the artifacts being stolen from the site of the Ceremonial Duel. We called her but she didn't pick up. I left a voicemail."

"My sister's seen Shadi. She said he was lonely. He came to the museum to look at their collection. He said it made him feel at home. I don't know if that helps. We heard about the amnesia cases but Isis's memory is fine." Malik frowned.

"When did she see him?" Yugi asked.

"A couple of weeks ago."

Yugi sighed in relief. "Good, that was after the attacks stopped, so I'm sure she's okay. Don't worry. We'll figure something out, especially now that Atem is here!"

Yugi ended the call. Malik and Rishid stared at each other.

"You know as well as I do that nothing could have been taken from that site without Isis knowing about it." Malik jumped up. "The pieces were all there staring me in the face, and I believed her! The bitch!" Malik spun towards his bedroom.

"Where are you going?" Rishid asked.

"Anywhere as long as it's far away from her!"

Rishid followed Malik. He stood in the doorway to Malik's bedroom, blocking the exit, watching as Malik rummaged through his closet and dumped his clothes on the bed.

"No."

"What did you say?" Malik said incredulously, turning to face Rishid.

Rishid swallowed. "We're not doing this. Isis is our sister. If she's in trouble, we're going to help."

"Weren't you listening? She lied to us! She lied to me!"

"And this is your answer? Rushing off a second time? You were a child then, with a child's reaction. You're older now. Don't reach back to the lessons of our past to guide our future. That can only lead to disaster."

"I can't stay here."

"What are you afraid of? That you'll see nothing but anger?" Rishid paused, looked down, drew in a breath and said, "That you'll stab her with the kitchen knives?"

Malik looked at Rishid, shocked. He pitched himself into Rishid's arms, sobbing.

"Those days are gone," Rishid said softly, stroking his brother's hair.

Malik looked up at him. "Promise?"

"I promise. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, but I do know the murder of the sister you love, won't be a part of it."

"I can't stay here. Not if she lied," Malik whispered. "And I don't want to lose her."

"We're tried running," Rishid reminded him.

They heard Isis's key in the lock and headed for the living area, leaving Malik's room looking like a tornado had torn through it.

Isis entered the room to find Malik and Rishid staring at her.

Malik crossed his arms. "When were you planning on telling us?"

Isis drew in a breath, remembering Yugi's phone call. She hadn't even listened to her voicemail.

Isis walked slowly to the sofa and sat down. She took the Millennium Necklace out of a pocket in her dress and put it on the coffee table.

"What have you done?" Malik hissed.

"Nothing," Isis answered. "Except the most important thing of all – keeping the Necklace a secret from you."

"Shadi gave it to you?" Rishid asked.

Isis nodded.

"Why did you take it?" Rishid asked.

"I thought if I could see the future… I'd know how to fix… everything..."

Malik laughed. "That didn't work so well the first time."

Isis drew in a breath. "I thought I'd know how to turn us into a family, again."

"That didn't work out the last time, either."

Isis bit her lip. Malik turned away from the sight. He knew he should apologize, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

Isis got up. She walked to the window. The city looked bright and remote, untouchable in the cool evening air. "Every time you leave, I'm terrified it will be for the last time," she murmured, still with her back to them.

Malik walked over to her. He grabbed Isis by the arm and swung her to face him. "Isis! You're my sister!"

"After all that has happened, does that mean anything, anymore?"

Malik stared at his managing, know-it-all older sister. How old had she been when he'd killed their father? Fifteen? Sixteen? Younger than he was now, at any rate. "Of course, it does!" Malik said, aware that there was no "of course" about it at all.

"You hate it here."

Malik put his hands on her shoulders. It still surprised him that he had to look down. "Yes, I do. Every time I leave, I tell myself that it's for the last time. But then I miss my big sister. Leaving Egypt means leaving you as well. I hate our clan and everything it stands for. But I love you."

"You blame me. I blame myself. If our lives hadn't been ruled by destiny, not once, not even in the beginning… then I was free all along to do… to do anything other than what I did, I suppose."

"There's more than one kind of destiny," Rishid said, his soft voice breaking into the silence that followed Isis' words. Isis and Malik turned to look up at him. He pressed his lips together and said, "Patterns were set long before we were born. We were plants in a hothouse, each in its carefully appointed place. Does it matter who the gardener was? We grew according to design."

Malik drew in a breath. "I blamed Rishid for not protecting me, for not keeping his promise. I blamed you for never promising anything. I almost killed Rishid. I hurt you. There's enough pain to go around, enough bitterness to drown a desert with its overflow if we let it. Maybe I'll always blame you a little. But… I'm the one who's wrong here, not you." He paused and said, "I don't want us to be a family because some hunk of gold tells us to or because it's our duty. I want us to choose to become one. I love you. You're my sister and Rishid's my brother and those choices will never change. I promise."

Isis thought of Kaiba saying that you had to carry the light of hope within you or all else was darkness. His words had stayed her hand each time she'd reached for the Necklace. They had reminded her that she had a choice. However hard it sometimes was to live in a formless world, she was grateful. "You're right."

Malik chuckled. "See, we are changing! My big sister just admitted someone else knows better." His smile turned wry. "I guess we owe Yugi a phone call."

Isis shook her head. "Some things should be said in person. I'll make plans to travel to Domino. I have a debt to repay."

"We have a debt to repay," Malik corrected. "And we'll do it together."

Atem heard the front door to the mansion open and close. He walked into the hall. Kaiba was alone. For once, he wasn't the last to arrive. Atem looked around, half expecting Mokuba to materialize out of thin air like one of Kaiba's holograms.

"Where's Mokuba?" Atem asked after kissing Kaiba in greeting.

Kaiba grunted. "He texted. He's working late. He said there was something he needed to fix. I think he's having a problem with a hologram he's working on. He was holed up in the computer lab when I left." Kaiba shrugged. His expression hovered somewhere between loss and pride as he added, "He said he messed up and he needed to figure it out on his own." Kaiba paused. "He said he was sorry."

"What did you say?"

"I told him that he was my vice president; that he had my full confidence." Kaiba ducked his head. His bangs fell in front of his eyes. "I told him being sorry was a waste of time. Programs get away from you. You're sure you know everything and you end up running full speed in the wrong direction." Kaiba shrugged again, as though to deny meaning to his next words. "I wanted him to know that losing doesn't have to mean death, I don't want him to think that."

Atem reached out for Kaiba's hand. They went into the dining room together. Dinner was a quiet affair. Kaiba kept re-reading Mokuba's texts in his mind. Atem's thoughts drifted to the morning when he was meeting Yugi – and all the things he'd never told him. And yet, it was also intimate; they sat next to each other, holding hands in between bites. Afterwards, they retreated to the gaming room, still hand in hand.

They'd barely settled on the couch when they heard the front door open and boom shut. Mokuba rushed past them towards the stairs, not even bothering to take off his backpack. "Night, all!" he yelled over his shoulder.

"Mokuba! Is everything okay?" Atem called out.

"No problem! I'm just bushed. See you tomorrow!" he said as he reached the top of the staircase and disappeared into his bedroom.

Atem looked at Kaiba. "Why do you think he took off like that?"

Kaiba grunted. "Avoiding me, probably."

Atem sighed.

Kaiba shrugged. "I said what I had to. I guess it's my turn to wait on him. He's earned that."

Atem nodded. "I'm seeing Yugi tomorrow. It's time I did some talking of my own. For years I was his 'other me.' I'm ready to tell him both how true and how false a name that was."

Kaiba grunted again, more softly this time. "Good luck."

"Wherever I am, I keep hiding pieces of myself from those I love. I didn't want Yugi to know how torn I've been ever since I crossed that border, how sometimes I'll look around at a green and blue and gold world and fully know what the word paradise means, and then at other times, the color drains away and I'm living in a tomb. And then I turn around and…"

Atem's voice trailed off. He suddenly realized that even here, even with Kaiba, he'd been hiding part of himself, the only difference was that with Kaiba he hid his sometime longing for his home, for Mahaad and Mana, afraid of rousing Kaiba's scorn or worse, his ever-present fear of betrayal. And in his effort to avoid summoning Kaiba's fear, Atem had hidden his own: the way he'd sometimes whirl around, half expecting Horakhty or some sterner god to appear, to make him chose death and destiny and duty once more, to make all the words of hope and longing he'd ever said to Kaiba into a powerless, pitiful dream. Atem knew the gods were more just than that and more merciful. But fear, as Kaiba had once said, was the true enemy all duelists face.

Kaiba raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Atem had expressed concern and worry before. He'd even acknowledged doubt. But he'd never admitted to being simply and purely afraid. And to do it in front of Seto Kaiba, of all people… but anything less felt like a lie. He might be afraid. He refused to be a coward.

Atem shook his head. The gaming room was too full of Mokuba's absence, too crowded with all the things that had been left unsaid within its confines.

Kaiba grunted again, in acceptance of Atem's silence.

Atem stood up, breaking their routine. Kaiba had always led the way upstairs. Now Atem headed somewhat blindly towards the stairs, an animal seeking safety. Kaiba followed.

Atem waited until he and Kaiba were upstairs in their own private world with the door closed behind them. He rubbed the giant Blue Eyes White Dragon plushie on the head, as though asking for its blessing.

"What's up?" Kaiba asked as Atem started pacing the bedroom.

Atem turned to face him. "It would have been easy, wouldn't it? To simply say nothing, to hope things work themselves out, to hope any conflict is in your mind."

"I couldn't. Not with Mokuba. Not anymore."

Atem nodded. "You've been fearless. I don't mean dueling or facing death or hurling yourself between dimensions. I mean revealing yourself… to me… to Mokuba. It's time I stepped up my game. I'm done hiding my cards." Atem paused, trying to figure out where to begin. "I once had a choice: my life or my kingdom's. I once had a choice: my life or Yugi's freedom." Atem swallowed, then admitted, "I'm afraid of what my next choice might bring."

"Is this your way of letting me down gently? You did promise to say goodbye before you left this time," Kaiba snapped. He flushed a second later. His words were unworthy, and yet he couldn't leave them unsaid.

"Stop it! That's your answer for everything! I want you, and for more than sex," Atem said, gesturing to the bed with a contemptuous sweep of his arm. "I want to return, even after we find and defeat Shadi. I told you that. I've never lied to you."

"I know that!" Kaiba roared back.

"Do you think me so careless, so deceitful?"

Kaiba swallowed. "Never."

Atem pressed his advantage. "Can you trust me?"

"I don't know," Kaiba whispered. "Every time I stop and think, I know how true you are, and how wrong I am for ever doubting."

"But…" Atem said.

"That's always my second thought, never my first. I believe in you. I do. But I can't do it casually or easily. And you've earned that."

Atem stared at Kaiba open-mouthed, the rant in his head dissolving, wiped away by Kaiba's words, reforming into the single name, "Seto."

"I've never believed that trying mattered. I figured it was a cop out, a way for cowards to excuse their inaction. But it's all I have left to offer." Kaiba snorted. "Do you remember our tag team duel back in Battle City, when you told me to slow down and think before we acted?"

"Of course."

"It was good advice," Kaiba admitted.

Atem shook his head. "Facing up to the future and how little control we have – it's been our one taboo, hasn't it? I've been afraid to even admit to my fears, afraid to share them, afraid you'd see them as the prelude to a betrayal. But I need you to listen. Can you do that?"

Kaiba nodded. "Yes."

Atem walked around the room, then returned to Kaiba. "This is my third time, walking the earth. Twice I was called on to leave. Twice I ignored my heart, twice I focused solely on seeing my mission through as if it was a lifeline, instead of the road to my death. Twice I brushed aside all thoughts of myself, never dared ask what I would have wanted. Twice I knew that doing so would sap my resolve when I needed it most. And now that I'm here, now that I know, I keep looking over my shoulder wondering what the gods will ask for next, what choice I might have to make. I keep telling myself that they wouldn't be so cruel as to separate us again. I keep wondering if I'm wrong."

Kaiba shuddered. "Every time I hold you in my arms, part of me prepares for the moment you'll leave, as if every moment of joy foreshadows the day when you'll hand me my worst defeat, when whatever the words or the cause, you'll leave me and I'll hate you for it."

"If I was given a choice between your hatred or your death, I'd unhesitatingly choose your hatred."

Kaiba had rarely heard anything he agreed with less – or that moved him more. "That's not what I want," he said numbly.

"No. It's what I want for you. I want you to live, whatever the terms, whatever the cost."

"You promised to say goodbye. Fuck that. Promise to fight."

Atem drew in a breath. "I stand with you. But you need to understand that what's in our hearts can't be measured by success or failure. Jounouchi taught me that. Do you know how many times he lost to Yugi? It would have been so easy for him to have accepted the world's evaluation of him as the truth. It would have been so easy for him to have accepted your judgement. He never did. I don't know if we'll win against Shadi. Even if we do, I don't know if the gods will accept my desires. But I'll never give up."

Atem reached up to caress Kaiba's face. He leaned against Kaiba's chest a moment, listening to his heart beat. "I want you, more and more each day. And I fear being asked to make a third choice. My happiness, here, with you in my arms, fuels my fear until I can't separate desire from terror." Atem shook his head. "I was a pharaoh. My life was expendable, given to my people before I was born. It's a hard habit to break. Even here, the people changed, but the belief remained."

Kaiba started in surprise. He wanted to argue, to rant about cowardice and faithlessness. But Atem had summed up his own fears as well. Against his will, Kaiba nodded. How many of Gozaburo's lessons had he carried forward, even while hating the man and everything about him? He'd defeated Gozaburo, but Gozaburo's beliefs had lingered beyond his death, much less easy to destroy.

"Life was simpler when I accepted instead of thought," Atem said.

Kaiba snorted.

Atem ignored him. "Seeing you in a dream… in your computer lab… coming here for this mission… every time I get a gift, it makes me greedy for the next one, it reminds me that there's some indefinable more out there and I want it."

Kaiba shivered at Atem's use of the word, "more."

"It would be so easy to be that person again," Atem murmured. "To ask: What do the gods want? To forget to ask: What do I want as well?"

Kaiba pulled Atem closer, needing to wrap his arms around his rival. "I hate that I understand you. I hate that I agree. I want to take refuge in bitterness, to become that rageful person again, the man I can barely hold at bay... because all of that is easier than living with the fear of losing you." Kaiba threw back his head and laughed. "Luckily for you, I've never taken the easy road yet."

Atem pulled Kaiba's face down to his, and kissed him thoroughly, as though willing to die of loss of oxygen rather than let go. When they broke apart, Atem said, "Now that I want things, I'm afraid of losing them. But I've never felt so alive."

"Every touch, every caress is a victory, because I won't accept abandonment as my fate, as the way the world works. Not anymore. Wanting is dangerous. It's what gives loss its power. But wanting is all we have to hold on to."

"We found each other once," Atem said slowly.

"We can do it again."

"Will that content you?" Atem asked.

Kaiba snorted. "You know me better than that. I'm never content."

Atem smiled. "Now that's the arrogant jerk I crossed time and space to find."

.

Thanks to Bnomiko for betaing this chapter and especially for catching height and other mistakes, not to mention making sure my transitions actually happened somewhere besides my head.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I realized with a bit of a shock as I was editing this and the next chapter that there's only a few chapters left!

A lot of this story has been about people trying to deal with the gaps between who they think they should be and should want and who they actually are and what they actually want. But part of that is also the characters people going through the same process of figuring that out about the people in their lives as well. Of course, since Mokuba has Kaiba as a role model, it's not surprising that he went the hologram route! If there's a theme that ties the next two chapters together, it's the characters opening up to the people in their lives.

Title Note: "Heaven Can Wait" was a remake of "Here Comes Mr. Jordan," so I couldn't resist using it as a chapter title!

Height Note: It was really fixed in my head that Isis was taller than Malik (and with the anime's usual indifference to official heights, sometimes she looks that way.) But according to the Yu-Gi-Oh! Wiki, Isis is 167 cm (5'5") while Malik is 180 cm (5'9"). I was just as surprised as Malik!

Especially now, it's really nice to hear from people and know that people are still reading and enjoying the story.

Stay safe everyone!

SOCIAL MEDIA NOTE: I am on Tumblr, Dreamwidth and Pillowfort as Nenya85. Come check me out there!

To paraphrase Louise Rosenblatt, "A story's just ink on the page until a reader comes along to give it life." This is my way of saying that I'd really like to hear what you think. Please comment.