Chapter 9: Stay
Yuugi woke up slowly, sluggishly, and with a vague impression of worry. His disorientation grew when he realized his room was dark. He searched for his phone blindly, wondering why the alarm hadn't gone off. Had he not gone to work that morning? Or was it just too early to start getting ready?
He found his phone and tapped the screen. The digital clock read 18:37.
He stared at the white numbers uncomprehendingly. Then his brain kicked into gear and eradicated the last remnants of sleep. Of course. He had not gone to work that day; he had called in sick. Because Atem was back.
He fell back to his pillows with a heavy sigh and fixed his eyes to the ceiling.
Yes, Atem was back. Somebody else might have pinched themselves to make sure that this wasn't a dream but, in his case, Yuugi did not need to. The sinking feeling in his stomach was way too real. So was the scratchiness in his eyes and throat.
Atem was back. The rest of his friends had come over, they had talked and mused and fussed over some book... and then Yuugi had yelled at his yami. And he had cried. And after he was done with all the yelling and crying, he had taken a nap.
He groaned and pressed the heels of his palms into his eye sockets until stars popped in the darkness. He had acted like an idiot. An idiot who could not reign over his feelings. He had promised himself that he would not trouble Atem on his first day back, he had been determined not to say a thing... and then he'd went and spilled the beans anyway - and in the worst way possible.
He lowered his hands and looked outside the window. The lights of the city blinked back at him. It had been sometime around noon when Atem had insisted that he took some rest. Yuugi had agreed to lie down for a bit, but he hadn't expected to actually fall asleep. And for six hours straight, no less.
With this thought, his eyes went wide and he threw the covers off of himself. He had left Atem alone for the whole afternoon! An ancient spirit, back from the dead, in a world that he more or less had no clue about - and Yuugi had left him alone.
Some host he was.
He stood up and made for the door of his bedroom but, the moment his fingertips touched the knob, he stopped. Shame flooded him. Opening that door meant facing Atem, and... He was not sure he could do it after all the things he'd said to him. He wasn't sure what he was going to say. Was there anything he could say to make this better? The things he'd shouted in his face had been hurtful and bitter... and true. Still, despite them being true, they shouldn't have been made known like this. Not through tears and screaming in a day that should be dedicated to celebration.
In all honesty, he hadn't expected to lose his calm like that. Just when he'd expected himself to be at his happiest and strongest, Yuugi had simply been lost. Confused by his own reactions, his own emotions. Atem had once taught him how to find and hold on to his inner strength, and then his reappearance had brought everything down in a mess of indistinguishable feelings.
As for Atem himself, he had withstood the attack of Yuugi's hard words with stoicism. He had let him lash out and then he had hugged him. He had held Yuugi until he'd calmed down and then insisted that he got some rest, because he needed it. He'd asked for nothing. He had stood strong and reliable as ever, like the eternal stones of the land that had given birth to him. A true king, through and through.
Yuugi's shame was so intense that his fingers slipped from the doorknob. He shut his eyes tightly.
He guessed he should apologize, but... How? No apology seemed enough. No words came to him. How could he even begin to explain the mess that his feelings were? How could he really admit to the hope and the disgusting jealousy that clashed in him since yesterday? Anzu had asked him for another chance just before Atem reappeared and Yuugi did not know whether he should be happy, or angry, or place blame, or...
He sighed. Was it supposed to be this hard...? All these years, he had spent so much time daydreaming about what it would be like if Atem was there: of the things he'd say to him, the places he'd show him, the experiences he'd share. He'd dedicated part of every major event of his life to him.
He remembered the day he graduated from high school. He'd given the graduation speech and he'd proudly wore the choker on which the Millennium Puzzle had rested for years. He had fiddled with it anxiously before stepping on the podium but, once the time to speak had arrived, he'd felt calm and certain in a way that had reminded him of his other self. After finishing the speech, he had gone backstage, leaned with his back against a wall and smiled in the darkness, whispering, "I did it, Atem. One more adventure is over."
After he'd first kissed Anzu, he'd reached out to this part in his soul that lay vacant and silent and had tried to convey his joy to the emptiness, hoping that somehow his feelings would be strong enough to reach Atem and let him know that he was fine. He had been so happy that he had actually felt he could surpass the obstacles of time, space and dimensions.
When Anzu left for America, he'd found himself once more with his back against the wall of a dark room. That time around, the void in his soul had doubled and he'd been too scared to probe the emptiness.
The day he got married he had looked into the mirror to straighten his bow tie, chuckled quietly and murmured, "I had to loose the choker for today, old friend."
And the day his grandfather had died, Yuugi had whispered, "Take care of him, other me."
As for the day Anzu had asked for a divorce... That had been the only time he hadn't wished for Atem to be there. He'd been so furious with the void in his soul - that ugly, double void - that he'd tried to board it up and forget about it. For the first time, he'd been angry, so angry-
No point in scratching that wound again. He should focus on apologizing, nothing else. It was stupid to dwell on this stuff now. Now Atem was there, and he had some serious making up to do.
He braced himself, turned the doorknob and finally walked out of his bedroom.
The whole apartment was plunged in darkness, much like his room had been. Which was weird. Atem had learned enough about the modern world while living through him, so he should have been able to turn on the lights.
An awful suspicion flashed through his mind, and suspicion brought panic. He almost ran to the living room. He crashed against furniture and stumbled on carpets, all the while trying to fight the sickening feeling in his stomach. Surely Atem hadn't left... He couldn't have. Or did Yuugi offend him so much that he decided to go? To abandon him, just when he'd found him again...? He couldn't have; couldn't, couldn't, couldn't-
Yuugi's heart returned to its rightful place when he noticed the dark mass that lay huddled on the couch. Atem was there, sleeping.
Still there. Just sleeping.
Yuugi's relief was so great that he visibly deflated. He stood before the couch, with his heart thrumming so hard against his ribs he thought he could hear its echo in the quiet apartment. He huffed and rubbed the back of his head. Confused or not, he did not like the thought of Atem leaving. He did not like it one bit.
He knelt down before the couch and squinted to make out his yami's face. Yuugi's panic hadn't disturbed him; his face was calm and he was breathing serenely through parted lips. Even in the dark, and even when asleep, he managed to make the blond tufts around his forehead seem like a crown.
He is still here, Yuugi repeated to himself with a relieved smile. He hesitated for a few more seconds before reaching out to touch his yami's shoulder and shake him lightly.
"Atem?"
The yami stirred and his eyes fluttered open. His hazy gaze swept the dark room once before settling on Yuugi.
"Aibou...?" he mumbled, voice somewhat rough.
"Hey," Yuugi smiled. "Sorry to wake you up."
"No, no, not at all..." Atem sat up and straightened his back. He looked around again. "It's so dark. What time is it?"
"Oh, it's not that late." Yuugi got to his feet and hurried to hit the switch. Light flooded the room, causing Atem to flinch a bit and rub his eyes. "Sorry," Yuugi chuckled.
"No, no, do not apologize. I did not mean to fall asleep, anyway."
"Oh... About that," Yuugi mumbled and looked at his toes. "Sorry for leaving you alone for so long. You must have been bored out of your-"
"Aibou," Atem cut across him in soft, reassuring tones. Yuugi lifted his eyes and met Atem's crimson ones. "I was fine. Don't worry."
Right. Not worry. Easier said than done.
Yuugi sighed and plopped down next to him; the leather cushions creaked. He was determined to apologize but his throat felt all closed up. He guessed it would be easier in he didn't look directly in Atem's brilliant red eyes, so he clasped his hands and stared at them. He cleared his throat.
"Look, Atem, I... I wanted to apologize... for my behavior... before."
"Aibou-"
"No," Yuugi cut across him before he could reassure him, before he could tell him that it was okay. "It's not okay. I was horrible to you, and I... I'm sorry."
The word came out of him sounding like a plea. It floated in the air for a while, making Yuugi feel desperately weak and stupid. He clasped and unclasped his hands with the nervousness of a defendant waiting for the verdict. It did not come at once; there was silence in Atem's part, and then a small sigh.
"Aibou... What you said before was true, wasn't it? About Anzu... And all that happened between you. Right?"
He was aware that Atem was looking at him intently, but he kept his gaze downcast. "Yes... It was, but-"
"Then you should not apologize for telling the truth."
This time Yuugi did lift his eyes to give Atem a despondent look. "I shouldn't have yelled like that. I shouldn't have said it as if... as if I was blaming you, or-"
"Yuugi," Atem murmured, and the way he said his name made something in his chest clench slightly, "...you are glad that I'm here, aren't you?" A hint of anxiousness crumpled the lines of the yami's otherwise calm face.
"Yes!" Yuugi cried and sat up straighter. "Yes, I am! I can't even describe how happy I am - and, before, when I woke up and I saw that the apartment was dark, I thought you were gone and I was scared out of my wits, I couldn't-"
"Then it's okay." Atem smiled and placed a light palm on Yuugi's knee - which, instead of calming him, made him tense up even more. "If you're happy, then that's all I need."
"But I-"
"You were under stress. It is understandable. A lot has happened. But if you want me here... We will work the rest of it out."
His voice was wonderfully reassuring and his smile was soft and full of affection, but something sad lingered in his eyes. Something guarded and unsure, as if he expected Yuugi to crack again and admit that no, he did not want him there - that no, he was not happy nor content and he'd rather go on with his life without ancient pharaohs claiming part of it. It did not suit him, this fear. Seeing it ripple under his powerful exterior was like hearing flat notes in a familiar tune. It simply felt wrong.
Yuugi took Atem's hand off his knee and held it with both his own.
"Atem, you being here is the most wonderful thing that has happened to me in years," he said fervently, squeezing his hand to emphasize his words. "I know I did not look like it, and I essentially ruined your first day back, but..." He sighed deeply. "I'm so glad you are here. Believe me."
Atem nodded. His hand twitched in Yuugi's grasp, not in an effort to release itself, but to settle more comfortably between Yuugi's palms. Or, at least, that was what it seemed to Yuugi. Then it occurred to him that perhaps he'd held on Atem's hand for way too long. Instead of distant and spiteful, now he was being clingy and whiny, and he was not sure whether this qualified as an improvement. He blushed in embarrassment and released Atem's hand a little too hastily.
He cleared his throat and straightened his back. He did not really feel like he had made up. So far, their evening still sucked and he suspected it would keep sucking unless he did something to change the gloomy mood. Everything in the apartment seemed heavy and stuffy. Perhaps they should get out; go for a walk, get some fresh air.
"Are you hungry?"
Atem frowned in confusion at the sudden change of subject, but he replied quickly. "Yes, quite a bit."
"Okay, here's an idea: how about we go for a walk and grab something nice to eat?"
"Sounds great."
"Good," Yuugi said brightly and shot to his feet. "Then I'll go get ready. And I'll bring you a coat!"
He jogged to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. The moment the lock clicked, his bright expression was replaced by one of relief. He placed a hand on either side of the marble sink, let his head drop, and sighed.
It had gone better than what he'd expected. Of course it had. Atem had been great, as always.
He allowed himself a small smile. Perhaps everything would indeed get to be alright. Perhaps he would get to have Atem in his life for a while. Or forever.
The moment this small word - forever - crossed his mind, his chest was crushed under the weight of such warmth and happiness that he felt he couldn't breathe. The idea of Atem staying forever... it was almost too much to bear.
He took a deep breath in. He let it out.
He really shouldn't get his hopes up like this. At least, not until they knew more about the reason the spirits were back. They knew next to nothing about the Millennium Spellbook and its possible involvement in Atem's return. No. He should remain calm and patient because, if he got his hopes all up and then Atem left again, it would hurt too much - even more than Anzu-
No, no, don't go there. He wouldn't think about Anzu now. For a few hours, he had to keep her out of his mind. Now was the time to make up to his friend, and he wouldn't be able to do that if he kept thinking about her.
However, if Atem stayed forever, Anzu would eventually find out and then-
No, no, no, no. Stop it, he commanded himself.
He ran a hand over his face. He really needed some fresh air.
He lifted his head to look in the mirror. Puffy eyes and wild hair greeted him. A few tufts remained tangled in his hairband, messed up by sleep, and gosh, he looked tired.
He untangled the hairband and grabbed a brush. Halfway through tying his hair back up in a ponytail, he changed his mind. He brushed his hair with his fingers, ruffled them a bit, and... stared. His tufts, loyal to their natural disposition, had settled in the way they preferred: sticking out in all directions. If only the blond ones were still there, he would look just like his old self. Except... more tired and stuff. But still. It was comforting to know that his self was still in there somewhere. It made him feel as if things could go back to being alright.
Perhaps he shouldn't have changed his hair. Or perhaps he should change it back, work be damned.
...Well, if he was being completely honest with himself, his work had not been the only reason. After everything, after Anzu and her words, he had craved for a change; looking in the mirror had been too hard. However, this had been something he didn't feel like admitting to the others. 'Work' had seemed an acceptable enough excuse, so he'd went for it.
Anyway. Looking a bit like his old self did not sound so bad right now, so he put both the brush and the hairband down, glanced in the mirror one last time and walked out of the bathroom. He went to his bedroom, grabbed two coats and an extra pair of shoes and returned to the living room.
He'd lie if he said he didn't enjoy the way Atem's face lit up when he saw him. Yuugi chuckled and twirled a strand of hair on his finger. "Does this look better?"
"A lot better, aibou," Atem smiled. He did not say it, but Yuugi read the rest of his sentence in his eyes: you look like yourself again. To this, Yuugi would answer that no, not yet, but he was getting there.
"Let's get going, then. I'm starving."
They put on coats, scarves and shoes and left the apartment. The moment they walked out of the building, the sharp cold of December bit them. The clouds of the previous day were gone, leaving the sky clear and the cold all the more intense for it.
"Damn it, I did not think about gloves," Yuugi groaned. "Wait here, Atem, I'll run and bring you a pair-"
"No, it's alright, aibou."
"Are you sure?"
Atem stretched out his hand in front of him. He clenched and unclenched his fist, splaying his fingers. "It's good to be able to feel the cold," he said with a small grin.
"Oh... I'm glad you see it this way," Yuugi said, stuffing his own hands in the pockets of his coat. His breaths came out in small, wispy clouds and the cold stung at his nose, but Atem seemed really pleased with it. He was breathing in and out, looking at the puffs his breath created with childlike amusement. Yuugi couldn't help but smile, too.
"Come on, let's go." He nudged Atem with his elbow and started walking down the street.
"Where are we going?"
"There's this place, not far from here. it's not fancy, but they make the best ramen in town."
Cars rushed past them and there were honks in the distance. Domino's familiar neon signs glowed in the night, hiding all but a couple of stars. The few people that walked along the sidewalk went by in a hurry, eager to leave the cold streets. Atem was watching everything with a faint smile fixed on his face. It seemed unreal but there he was, an ancient king walking the streets of a modern city, his breath leaving white traces in the night. Yuugi wondered whether he would ever get used to it. He guessed he wouldn't.
Every now and then Atem glanced at him, at which point Yuugi realized that he was staring and looked away hastily. But no matter how many times he averted his gaze, his eyes found Atem's profile again, drinking in the sight with lingering disbelief.
"Oh, I remember this place!" Atem exclaimed, pointing at a small store at the other side of the road.
Yuugi squinted to make out the sign and then laughed. "Yup. This is where I had my Nintendo fixed."
"Twice," Atem pointed out.
"Hey, it's not my fault I dropped it down the stairs! Grandpa scared me!"
"You could have paused the game and climb down those steps more carefully."
"That's not it. Grandpa scared me," Yuugi insisted with a pout. "Besides, it was the new Zelda game! I couldn't just-"
"Stop playing? Yeah, I remember."
Yuugi tackled Atem with his shoulder. "Oh, come on, don't judge me! You liked that game as much as I did!"
"All I'm saying is that if you did not keep playing while walking down the stairs or, say, taking a shower, you wouldn't have to fix your Nintendo... Twice." Τhey both laughed: Yuugi more openly and heartily, Atem with deep chuckles issuing from the back of his throat.
This was good. It was familiar and comfortable and Yuugi was... happy. It was the sound of his own laughter that helped him realize that. He hadn't laughed like this in while. It was as if the muscles of his face woke up all of a sudden and then proceeded to wake up the rest of his body.
In the ten minutes that it took them to reach the restaurant Yuugi had in mind, Atem kept pointing excitedly at every familiar place they came across. When the red sign that read Akai Doa came into view, Yuugi grabbed Atem's sleeve and led him across the road. The stood outside a truly petite restaurant and peered inside through the glass front. Most of the customers were in the line before the counter, opting for takeout instead of sitting in one of the few tables that were crammed in the small interior. Behind the counter, the kitchen was alive with movement, steam and erupting tongues of flame.
Yuugi hesitated. This was one of his favorite restaurants and the food was exceedingly good, but suddenly he worried whether this was too small for a pharaoh, too dark, too crowded...
"I know it doesn't look like much..." he murmured apologetically, but Atem shook his head.
"It's great. Very... Domino. Just what I'd like for my first day back." He didn't know if Atem really meant it or if he was being nice for his sake but, either way, Yuugi was glad.
When they pushed the door open, heat and a thousand smells hit their faces. They inhaled deeply; the hot, delicious air soothed their frozen noses and made their mouths water. They walked to a bench that stood by the glass front, where they would have a wide, unobstructed view of the street and the sidewalk outside. They took off their coats and sat on tall stools across from each other.
It was a self-service restaurant, so Yuugi left to go and stand in the line before the counter. He returned a good fifteen minutes later, carrying two paper bowls of steaming Akai Doa special. He placed one bowl in front of Atem, kept the other for him and climbed on his stool.
"It smells good," Atem said with a smile.
"I know," Yuugi said dreamily, breathing in the scent of his own bowl. "Do you remember how to use the chopsticks?"
"I think so."
For a few minutes there was silence between them as they dug in their food. Yuugi kept a close eye on Atem's reactions, still a bit anxious about whether he'd like the meal. When Atem hummed in contentment, Yuugi smiled.
"Is it good?"
"It's delicious!"
Yuugi grinned widely and attacked his own bowl.
The world around them was in constant motion as cars drove by, lights blinked and people walked in and out of the shop. Even though he didn't stop eating, Atem's eyes seemed intent on capturing every movement and every little detail. He looked around with the fascination of a child, occasionally glancing back at his food or at Yuugi - something which made him wonder whether Atem also felt the need to constantly make sure that all of this was real. Maybe. Probably.
It was weird seeing him in such a mundane environment. In Yuugi's mind, Atem was always surrounded by gold and sun. He'd been unreachable and bright, a mythical creature, older than the oldest of legends and just as elusive. Yet there he was, this son of the Sun God, sitting in the shadows of a small shop with colored lights reflecting off his crimson irises, holding a steaming paper bowl. And smiling. At Yuugi.
Who was staring again.
He lowered his head hastily and looked at his food. "You'd better eat it while it's warm," he said, just to say something.
"I am eating. You are not," Atem said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Yeah..." Yuugi chuckled awkwardly. "I guess I'm still in a bit of a shock."
"Over my return?"
"Yes! I mean..." He laughed a bit and shrugged. "It is still so... Unreal. I think I'll never get used to looking at you."
Atem let out one of his deep, velvety chuckles. "I know. I feel that way, too."
Yuugi stole an upwards glance. Something in the way Atem had said that made his heart swell with happiness and, simultaneously, ache a bit. He laughed it off.
"Oh, come on. It's not the same. You were the one that was... elsewhere. I've always been real."
"Not to me," Atem replied. "To me, seeing you feels just as unreal."
Yuugi thought that perhaps his ramen was too spicy because he could feel his cheeks heat up. He should probably let it cool down a bit.
"You really can't remember a thing from the afterlife?" he asked hastily, not quite able to put his finger on why he felt the urgent need to change the subject.
Atem shook his head. "I told you, I remember... a sort of peaceful feeling. The way you feel after seeing a nice dream, even if you can't remember what the dream was."
"Sounds good, though."
"Not as good as being here."
Yuugi felt Atem's gaze was too intense to hold it, so he looked at his bowl instead. He played around with a mushroom as he mumbled, "So... you really wanted to... return?"
Atem remained silent long enough for Yuugi to glance up and see the thoughtful frown that had taken over his face.
"I can't remember consciously wishing to return while I was in the afterlife. I can't remember anything. But I'm definitely happy now that I'm back. And... I admit I did wish I could stay... Back when I was in the Puzzle."
The floor under Yuugi might as well have disappeared. Something inside him dropped a few inches, and then kept dropping, and dropping... His hands went numb and one of his chopsticks slipped from his fingers and clattered on the bench. He blinked and replayed the last sentence in his head.
I did wish I could stay...
"What?" was all he managed to breathe.
He stared at Atem, waiting for a confirmation of what he'd thought he had heard. The yami stared back, his face serious and set. Instead of repeating what he'd said, he just nodded once, slowly.
"B-But..." Yuugi stammered, his mind reeling years back, trying frantically to pick up clues from his memories. "I don't understand. You wanted to find your name so badly. You tried so hard to regain your memories. We all tried so hard to send you back to the afterlife!"
The yami shuffled in his seat. He had stopped eating, too.
"I know," he said in a low voice, barely audible over the bustle of the little restaurant. "I wanted to know who I am. But I could also see that... I did not belong here. It was not my time. It was not my life. It was yours. I could not keep living as a parasite within you."
"You were never a-"
"I was," Atem said firmly. "I enjoyed living with you, I really did. And I... I wanted it to last. I wanted to stay and live. But during Battle City I came to understand that I couldn't. I would never find peace this way."
Yuugi stared, aghast. "You never said anything!" he said, voice taking a bit of a high-pitched edge. "I wouldn't mind sharing! I wouldn't mind keeping the Puzzle and-"
"I know you wouldn't. But I could never accept that. It would be selfish on my part. You had to have your life. You had to have your own story." A sad smile stretched Atem's lips, in perfect harmony with the sadness in his eyes.
"My own story," Yuugi echoed; Anzu's voice ringed in his head, followed by the slam of a door. You are nothing like him.
He shut his eyes firmly. Not now. Now was not the time to think about this.
Because what Atem was saying was... inconceivable.
I did wish I could stay...
Stay. He had wanted to stay. He had tried to regain his memories not because he wanted to leave, but because he had to.
He realized Atem was talking again just in time to catch him saying: "...you've built your own life, and I'm so proud of you. You could never have done that with me here."
Yuugi shook his head. He did not look at his yami. He did not think he could. All he could do was keep thinking that this could have all been different, all of it, all-
"You should have said something. We could have discussed this," he said through gritted teeth.
"It wouldn't be fair-"
Yuugi slammed his palm on the table. "Who cares about fair? You would have been here!" he almost shouted. His hand trembled against the wooden bench.
Atem's sharp eyebrows knitted together. "Listen to me, aibou. It wouldn't have been fair to you-"
"Well, it wasn't fair to you, either! You didn't get to live once!"
"I did get to-"
"Oh, yeah? How old were you when you sacrificed yourself to save the rest of the world?" Yuugi asked, even though he knew the answer.
Atem swallowed. "Sixteen," he grumbled. "But, aibou, that's not the point."
"But it is!" Yuugi said desperately. "I would have gladly shared! You deserved to live, you-"
He stopped. The vision of a life where Atem had never left overwhelmed him and he couldn't go on. How different would his life have been? He wouldn't have known loneliness. He would never have had to whisper to the darkness, with his back against a wall and his thoughts away from this world. He would have never needed to learn how to cope with an empty spot in his soul. He would probably had never married Anzu, either, because she would have surely chosen Atem. How would that feel like...? Giving over his body to let him go on dates with her, to let him kiss her...?
Pain pierced his heart like an arrow. No, it wouldn't have been easy. But did it matter? He didn't get to keep Anzu either way, but he would have gotten to keep his best friend.
He was startled out of his thoughts when something touched his leg. It took him a while to realize that Atem was nudging him gently with his foot. He lifted his eyes and met crimson concerned ones.
"I've made you angry, aibou."
Yuugi blinked and deflated with a heavy sigh.
"I'm not angry. Exasperated, perhaps. I... I helped you regain your memories because I believed that it was the one thing that would make you happy."
The light pressure from Atem's foot against his leg was lifted, and Yuugi felt all the more empty and cold for it.
"It did make me happy. I had to know who I was, aibou. And I think... None of us would have been happy, had I stayed."
Yuugi let out a sharp, bitter laugh that made Atem frown. He leaned forward a bit and Yuugi momentarily believed that he would grab his hand, but he didn't; he merely kept talking in a soft voice. "It's different now, though. I have my own body. And this time I know who I am. I am me, you are you, and... It's different."
Yuugi looked at him unhappily. His food was growing cold before him, forgotten.
The little word that had scared him when he was leaning over the sink in his bathroom came back to him with renewed fervor. Forever. The chance of Atem staying, forever. His chest was crushed again under the immense weight of too many feelings, but he managed to make out a dominating one: hope. He pressed his lips together and felt his expression hardening in determination.
"You are right. It is different. And you know why? Because this time we should make sure you stay."
Atem stared in troubled silence for a few seconds. The door of the shop opened and closed, sending in a chilly wave of air that got quickly stifled by the fragrant heat. A car drove by and its lights hit Atem's face, hardening the bewildered lines and then letting the shadows muffle them again.
"What do you mean? How...?"
Yuugi sat up straighter and squeezed his fists. "I mean that if you really want to stay, this time I will do whatever I can to make sure you do. I can't lose you a second time. Not after-" A thickness settled in his throat and he felt a little embarrassed for it, so he stopped talking. Not after Grandpa. Not after Anzu. He didn't say it out loud, but he knew Atem understood.
He swallowed the thickness and went on. "I look at you and I fear that, every time I blink, you'll disappear just the way you appeared. If you want to go, then that's okay, I guess, but... If you want to stay, I'll do everything in my power to make that happen. I will. But you'll have to tell me this time. Don't hide it. Don't think about fair. Just say it."
Atem's eyes were fixed on him, oddly sparkling. His face was frozen in an expression of... incredulity? Hope?
...Pain?
Yuugi did not wait for Atem to do it; he reached out and grabbed his yami's hand. It was cold, so he squeezed it. Colors shimmered in Atem's eyes; water and light, like a rainy night in Domino.
The yami opened his mouth. Froze. Closed his mouth and swallowed. When he spoke his voice was thick and gruff in a way that Yuugi did not remember ever hearing it. "We don't know why I'm back this time, aibou."
Yuugi shook his head. "I don't care."
"But... There's probably a reason. A mission. And if there is, when that mission is over, most likely I will-"
Yuugi did not want to hear it, so he squeezed Atem's hand hard enough to make him stop.
"Then we ignore the mission."
"...We can't, aibou." Now there was definitely pain etched on Atem's face.
"Yes, we can. Fuck the mission. Yeah, I said it," he added when Atem's face twitched at the vulgar display of language. "I'm not a kid anymore. I don't have to save the world. It's not my responsibility. I can finally decide what do to and what not to do, and-"
"We both know you are not that selfish. You are a lot more selfless than I am, actually. And we both know that, if the stakes are high, you won't be able to just sit by and let the world burn." The shimmering was gone from the yami's eyes but the pain was still there, mixed with adoration, pride and gratitude.
Yes, Yuugi knew that Atem was right. And, in that moment, he hated himself for not being able to say fuck the mission and actually mean it.
"Still, we don't know if there even is a mission," he said with the hopelessness of someone grasping at straws.
Slowly, Atem freed his hand and withdrew it. "What are the chances?"
"We can't know for sure."
"For starters, there is the Spellbook."
"That could be a coincidence," Yuugi said stubbornly.
Atem arched an eyebrow. "Do you really believe that?"
"I believe that, no matter what, we'll find a way to make you stay. If you really want to." He uttered the last sentence with more aggressiveness than he probably had to, making it clear that he demanded an answer.
Atem recoiled. "How can I...?"
"Just say it," Yuugi said, some part of him pleading. "Say it, and I'll do it."
"There are things bigger than me, aibou. Bigger than us both. And if I have to-"
"No 'have to'," Yuugi moaned. He let his head fall in his hands. "For once, no 'have to'." He sounded like a child, he knew, but frustration and fear were building up in him, threatening to stifle the hope, and he needed something to grab on. A goal. A definite one.
Why wouldn't Atem just say it? A few words, and Yuugi would have his goal.
But he already knew the answer to that question. Atem was trying not to be selfish. He was raised like a king. He had learned to put the greater good above his own wishes. He probably wanted to stay, but he would never admit to it out loud; not until he made sure that him voicing his desire would not condemn anyone else. Just like the last time.
Yuugi dropped his hands and looked up. Atem's face was just the sight he expected: pain mingled with hope. A clash between desire and duty.
"We'll find a way, mou hitori no boku," Yuugi said with conviction. "We will. But this time I need you to be honest. You don't have to hide things from me. And I promise... We will find a way."
He could see how hard Atem fought to keep himself from looking too hopeful and the ache in his heart intensified. His yami deserved this second chance; he deserved a life.
Atem fiddled with the edge of his paper bowl, and it was weird seeing him, the king of kings, fidget like that. When he spoke, his voice was a murmur. "Then, aibou... I have to ask for something, too."
Yuugi frowned, taken aback. "Of course."
Atem stopped fidgeting and looked up, his gaze sharp and determined. "I want you to be honest, too. About everything. Don't hide things from me, like earlier. I don't want you holding things in until you can no longer take it just because I'm here. I need to know whether my presence is good for you... or bad."
Yuugi swallowed. He knew what he was asking was only fair. Honesty went both ways; or, at least, so it should.
"Okay," he said in a small voice. "Alright. Deal."
Atem nodded once. His shoulders relaxed along with his expression. He lowered his head a bit; a few golden tufts caught the movement and fell in front of his eyes. "I am happy to be here," he said quietly, as if afraid of being overheard.
He still hadn't stated whether he wanted to stay, but it was a start. A good first step. "Good," Yuugi said. "Me too."
One side of Atem's lips curled upwards and it was as if a sun ray broke through the clouds.
It was a good first step.
.
.
.
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Author's note: Hey! I'm back, and the bois are back - now with extra fluff!
I know it was not much, especially after the long wait, but... Consider it a good first step. Or simply a first step. Or something to get the ball rolling again.
As always, thank you for reading and supporting this story - and encouraging its writer with your comments and favs and follows. It means a lot! *hugs you all*
If you enjoyed this chapter, or simply want to talk about it, let me know by hitting that beautiful review button!
Until next time, take care everybody :D
