22. I'm Gonna Fly – Sydney Forest
Anzu was bewildered by her surroundings and the strangely distant numbness of her body, like her neck had stretched and hr head was a million miles from the rest of her. She was so disorientated in fact, that she couldn't tell where those surroundings ended and the people in them began. Wherever she looked, a head of billowing hair became a waving field of golden corn, or a stream of stars across the sky; fingers arched into tree branches that budded and bloomed into pink flowers, except that in an instant they weren't flowers but a pair of smiling lips, a ribbon tied into a bow around a white ponytail, and an embroidered heart on the front of a little girl's denim dress. Everything was fluid, and nothing stayed the same for more than a second.
"Where …?"
"Nowhere. Everywhere."
The voices were just like the visions – blending seamlessly from the crash of a sea wave to the roar of some giant wild animal, the heavy grind of machinery, the skid of tires on gravel and a blend of vocal chords she didn't recognise.
"Don't think about it too much," said one voice that made images of computers pop and waver into her mind. "You're not supposed to be here yet."
"You've come too far," said another, emerging from the wheat field that became a swathe of blonde hair studded with roses. "You have to go back. It's not your time yet."
"Not my … time?" Speaking was such a great effort that it actually hurt, an all-over ache that didn't go away but increased as she tried to take a step towards the speakers to hear them better.
Cool hands pressed down on her shoulders, gentle but still firm as an eagle's claws in the scruff of a rabbit. They held her back. Anzu twisted her head and got an impression of eyes like a night sky reflected in clear water, but everything was whirling too much for her to properly focus on them.
"Your loved ones are waiting for you," said a voice just below those eyes. "It's not time to join us yet."
"Who's us?" Anzu asked with difficulty.
"Everyone, silly," laughed a much younger but still strangely familiar voice.
"Bakura?" Anzu squinted at the beribboned ponytail. "Ryou?"
Another giggle. "Not quite. Now go back to the real Ryou."
"I don't understand. Who -?"
"Go back," the voices whispered. "You have to go back. Your body still lives. You have to return to it. You have to go back."
"I don't understand!" Anzu wailed, grasping that something had gone very, very wrong for her to be … wherever she was. Dead? No, but close. She tried to remember and had another fleeting impression, this time of headlights and a dark road – or was that just another part of the shifting scenery? Spots of light and shadow blistered her vision and melted away again into red and yellow crayon daubs. "How?" she said desperately. "How do I go back?"
And then someone stepped from that scenery like an actor coming onstage from behind a painted backdrop. Time seemed to freeze around him, making him more solid than anything else.
Anzu gasped. "Pharaoh?"
He smiled. He rarely smiled. It was a curious and beautiful thing. "Atem," he corrected, or at least reminded her. When he placed a hand on her shoulder the other hands vanished, and he was the most real thing in the world to Anzu. She could feel the warmth of his palm, smell spices and sweat, and a burnt ozone scent that followed him around and could only be magic.
"Oh god, I've missed you." The words slipped out before she could stop them. They were very true, although the depth of their meaning had never been quite as clear as it was now. "Atem, I -"
"You have to go back, Anzu. Our friends are waiting for you."
Chastened and slightly disappointed, she whispered, "But I don't know how."
"Yes, you do." He smiled again and cupped her cheek with his other hand. Her mind whirled. "Much as I would enjoy your company on this side of the veil, it's not yet your time. You have a life to lead and you need to get back to it. And the people who love you."
The regret in his tone made Anzu think of her friends, their faces flashing through her like a bolt of lightning. She shuddered, gripping the bolt between her hands as it became a physical thing. Her fingers crackled. She heard voices and Atem's distinctive scent was replaced by the nose-wrinkling smell of antiseptic and air freshener. The longer she held on, the stronger these things were – and the fainter Atem became.
She met his eyes. For a second she wanted to let go and grab him instead, so she could stay here even though it wasn't her time and she didn't actually want to die.
He shook his head, as though reading her thoughts. And perhaps he was. "Someday we'll all be reunited, but not yet."
"Atem, I -"
And then she was fallingflyingsoaringlanding.
Anzu opened her eyes to a welter of bleeping and movement around her.
"You know," Jounouchi said when the nurses had finally cleared out and her friends and family were allowed to talk to her alone, "if you'd wanted us to visit you in New York, you could've just asked. You didn't need to step out in front of the freaking bus to get us over here."
"That was really scary, Anzu," Yuugi murmured, right next to her bed where he'd been the whole time.
But Anzu shook her head and smiled softly. "Actually," she whispered, "that made a lot of scary things a lot less scary."