Chapter 16: Out with it
The sand around him was white and blinding. The desert seemed to go on and on without a discernible edge, the horizon merging seamlessly with the bright sky above.
People were around Atem, slowly gathering close to him. The light was so bright that their silhouettes quivered and blurred in the edges, like a mirage, but when Atem squinted he was able to make out their faces.
Mahad. Mana. Shimon. Seto. Isis.
More were coming, their figures slowly coming into view as if they were materializing out of the light.
But where was Yuugi?
Atem looked around, searching for him among the gathering figures. No one seemed to notice his panic; they were talking to him, smiling.
"It is so good to see you again, my Pharaoh."
"This is truly a blessed day."
"Welcome back."
Someone's hand landed on his shoulder and he turned around. He saw Mahad, smiling one of his rare, wide smiles.
"I am so glad you are finally here," Mahad told him.
Yes, it was good to see them, too. But he wanted to find Yuugi. It was important. He couldn't remember why, but he knew it was; he knew he had to get to him.
He looked around, but there was no exit: only the endless expanse of sand, stretching as far as the eye could see.
Atem reached out with a dark, bejewel hand and squeezed Mahad's shoulder.
"Dear friend, tell me… Have you seen Yuugi?" he asked, his fingers almost biting into his flesh in his urgency.
Mahad's forehead crumpled, but he kept his smile. "You are here now," was all he said.
Atem's heart was racing. He searched around again, hoping that he would find anything: a path, a clue, even a door. Maybe, if he started walking, something would appear in the horizon: some sort of exit.
Hands kept clasping him.
"You are back."
"No," Atem murmured. "No—I need to find Yuugi-"
He snapped awake with a small gasp. He could see nothing but darkness; where had the sun gone? Where was the infinite stretch of sand and—Mahad?
Atem blinked a few times and his mind cleared. He felt the soft bed underneath him and the weight of the blanket of his body. He was in Yuugi's guestroom—his room, for now—and it was night-time.
It had been just a dream.
He let out a deep sigh and a bit of the tension seeped out of him. It was alright. He was still there. And Yuugi surely was in the next room, sleeping.
Atem rolled around and reached for his phone. It was nearly three in the morning.
He let the phone drop back on the bed-stand with a small thud.
He rubbed his eyes, as if trying to rub away the glare of that way too bright, imaginary sun. Then he stared at his hand: pale skin, no jewels adorning it. Nothing around him was moving; beyond the half-open door of his room, everything was silent.
He threw the covers off of him and swung his legs off the bed. He stayed there for a while, staring at his feet and listening to his breath.
He was getting used to the dreams by now, but they always left a vague dread echoing in his chest, along with a hollow feeling that was probably guilt. In any case, he didn't feel like going right back to sleep.
He got to his feet and padded out of his room, trying to make as less noise as possible. He would hate to wake Yuugi up. Today was the big day: his date with Anzu. He needed the rest.
He was planning to go to the kitchen for a glass of water, but he paused mid-step on the edge of the living room.
He wasn't the only one awake, after all. He saw Yuugi standing by the great glass windows; he was looking out towards the lights of the city, with his back to the rest of the apartment.
"Aibou?"
Yuugi turned around. When his eyes found Atem, he smiled. "Hey."
Atem forgot all about getting a glass of water and crossed the living room, walking up to Yuugi. "What are you doing up at this hour?"
"Couldn't sleep. You?"
Instead of a reply, Atem gestured vaguely towards the kitchen. "You didn't sleep at all?" he asked, searching Yuugi's face for signs that he had had at least a bit of rest. It quickly became obvious that Yuugi hadn't: the skin under his eyes was puffy and his eyelids were drooping.
"I tried to," Yuugi said, "but it was no use. I guess I'm too nervous."
"You should try to sleep a bit, aibou. You will need a clear head today."
"I know, I know…" Yuugi sighed. He didn't say anything else.
Atem took a step towards the window, looking out at the city he was coming to know so well. Even in the dead of the night, colors were reflecting off cement and glass, illuminating the mass of buildings that made their way up to the sky.
The darkness was soothing. He drank in the sight, allowing it to replace the images of the endless white desert of his dream.
"What are you going to do today? While I'm out with Anzu?" Yuugi asked.
Atem hummed, letting his gaze roam the cityscape.
He didn't have any plans, but sitting around and waiting for Yuugi to return sounded too nerve-wracking to be a good idea. "Jounouchi is back from that tournament. Maybe I'll call him."
"That's a good idea. You will have fun together," Yuugi said. Then he lowered his voice. "I wish I could say the same for me. I have no idea how I'm gonna break the news to Anzu."
"My advice is… Try to be gentle," Atem said.
"I think it doesn't matter how gently I'll break it to her. She's still gonna be…"
Yuugi trailed off. The distant lights were flickering in his eyes as he stared out towards the city, lost in thought. When he spoke again, his voice had a far-off, pensive quality.
"You know… Ever since you came back, it felt as if time had stopped. You were here, and everything felt right. Like a dream. Hanging out with you, playing games, eating dinner together… You know?"
Atem smiled softly. "I know."
"I can't believe it's only been a month. It feels so long already. But now… Time is running again. The last few days passed in a blink. Ever since Anzu called… Everything is running forward." Yuugi's face twisted in an unhappy grimace and he stopped talking.
Atem watched his Yuugi's profile for a while, taking in all the minute ways in which sadness had left its mark upon it. His eyes had lost their innocent roundness, that wide-open quality that made them look so gentle, and his mouth seemed more used to staying shut in a firm line than smiling.
At times like these, Atem nearly missed the Puzzle. Rather, he missed the immediacy of it: being able to gently nudge Yuugi's soul and share his troubles. He missed the closeness.
Without thinking too much about it, he reached out and pulled Yuugi into a one-armed hug. "Come here," he murmured.
Yuugi allowed him to draw him close, and Atem almost crushed him on his chest. After a short while, Yuugi relaxed and let his head drop on Atem's shoulder; it was heavy and warm and smelled faintly of peach shampoo. It was wonderfully grounding, so Atem squeezed Yuugi closer.
"I am glad you are here," Yuugi mumbled.
"Me too, aibou."
Surprisingly, Yuugi let out a quiet laugh.
"What is it?" Atem asked.
"Nothing," Yuugi replied, but he nuzzled closer to Atem's neck. "It's just that… Hearing you call me that is still so surreal. I never thought I'd hear it again." Atem felt Yuugi smile, his nose close to his collarbone, and it sent a shiver down his spine. It made him not want to let him go.
The last eleven years might have been nothing but a blink of an eye for Atem, but what he was experiencing now was more extraordinary than any of the crazy stuff he'd lived. Being able to hold Yuugi like this, in his arms, feeling his breath warming his shoulder… He couldn't remember anything like that.
He couldn't remember anyone holding him this close, back in Egypt. Most people hadn't been allowed to even set eyes on him, let alone touch him. In a way, it felt like he had never had a body; he had been a god amongst mortals, someone to be revered, not to be touched. His existence had been incorporeal and spirit-like long before the Puzzle.
He took a deep breath of Yuugi's scent and basked in the joy of simply being able to do such a thing.
Minutes ticked by in silence, while they just stood there. Every once in a while, he could feel Yuugi sigh, or a muscle on face tense, but he didn't speak. Atem wanted to lean closer and murmur, 'What's on your mind, aibou?', the same way he had done so many times before while in the Puzzle, but the silence felt too comfortable to disturb.
He stared at the city instead, until he realized that Yuugi's body was growing heavier by the second.
"Aibou?" Atem said in his most gentle tone. "Do you feel like going to sleep?"
Yuugi hummed. "I'll just lie here, on the couch."
"No, no, come on. Let's get you to bed."
Yuugi protested with a couple of unintelligible words, but he let Atem lead him back to his room. He collapsed on his bed, making the springs creak loudly, and yawned.
Atem covered him with the duvet and tucked him in as best as he could but, before he could leave, Yuugi's hand shot out from between the covers and grabbed his wrist.
"Stay," he mumbled.
Atem paused. Yuugi was looking at him through heavy-lidded eyes, but his grip was strong.
"Stay," he repeated.
The bed was huge, so both of them could fit easily, but the idea made Atem slightly uneasy. This had also been Anzu's bed, in a way—even though nothing was left to remind of her presence.
There was nothing that suggested anyone's personality, actually. In the feeble light from the window, Atem could see the bare bed-stands, the neat dresser, a grey armchair that looked like no one had ever sat on, and the vague, impersonal frames on the walls. He'd been in Yuugi's bedroom before, and the lack of personal touches always rubbed him the wrong way.
Nevertheless, Atem sat on the edge of the bed. He did not lie down, but he scooted closer to Yuugi and propped his back against the headboard; Yuugi hummed, content, and closed his eyes.
Atem ran his fingers through his partner's hair, smoothing them away from his face. He listened as his breathing slowly changed, turning deeper and softer.
He watched the way the black tufts curled and shone in the dim light; how they always tried to fall back over Yuugi's forehead, no matter how many times Atem brushed it away. It was still so weird to witness a version Yuugi without his trademark blonde tufts or his uncommon clothes' choices.
Atem clenched his jaw, feeling passionately protective. If only he'd been there during these last years, he would—
He frowned.
What would he have done? Would he have stopped Yuugi from marrying Anzu? Would he have advised him against accepting such a demanding job?
Those weren't Atem's decisions to make.
Maybe he should just accept that he couldn't do everything. Wasn't that what he'd said to Yuugi a few days ago?
'Don't try to solve everything by yourself.'
Why was it so hard to take his own advice?
He sighed, still stroking Yuugi's hair. It was hard to just sit in the sidelines and let others deal with everything that was wrong—especially since Atem had been the one everybody had turned to in times of need. But he guessed this was one more thing he would have to learn how to do. Learn how to accept the limits of his power.
It wasn't easy, but he could work on it.
He dozed off with his hand combing through Yuugi's hair and fell into a deep sleep.
Yuugi woke up in the morning to find Atem sleeping next to him with his back against the headboard. His head was hanging to the side with his mouth half-open, as if he'd just passed out unceremoniously right where he had been sitting. Yuugi stifled a laugh, because this was the most un-kingly he'd ever seen Atem look, but after a second his humor settled in an affectionate smile.
For a couple of seconds he was so happy he forgot what the day held for him.
Then he remembered and his good mood evaporated. He let out a heavy sigh and got ready for work: suit, tie, hair up in a ponytail. He looked at the wedding ring on his finger and his spirits sank even further. He had no idea what to expect from his meeting with Anzu, but he'd given up trying to predict.
He looked at Atem again and something in his chest softened. At least, no matter what, he would get to return to this. After everything was over and done with, Atem would be there. If nothing else, that was an encouraging thought.
He walked over to his sleeping yami and tried to lower him to a lying position. Atem mumbled something that sounded like, "Aibou," but he didn't wake up; he hid his face in Yuugi's pillow and kept dozing.
As quietly as he could, Yuugi walked to the kitchen. He was so nervous that the idea of eating breakfast made his stomach churn, so he didn't bother with it. He wrote a 'good morning' note for Atem, along with the phone number of the best brunch takeaway place, grabbed his briefcase and his phone, and left.
The day at work was both unbearably slow and unbelievably short. He couldn't concentrate on anything for the life of him: he read an email six times before realizing it was just spam, he didn't listen to his colleagues calling him until they literally had to wave a hand in front of his eyes, and he tried twice to pick up a phone that wasn't ringing—both times certain it was Anzu calling.
Come lunch, his nerves were so wrecked that he still didn't feel like eating—however, he made the wise choice of opting for decaf instead of regular coffee. By quitting time, he'd gone through so many stages of nervousness he had almost grown numb to the feeling.
He left the gaming company, walked out to the street and hailed a cab. The teashop he had chosen for his date with Anzu was not far, but it was so cold he did not want to walk.
The sun was setting already; as the cab drove him through the city, Yuugi watched the store signs and street lamps light up. Gradually, the sky overhead turned into a deep, inky shade.
His reflection on the cab window caught his eye. At once, he took off his hair tie and ruffled his hair. It was funny how much easier this had gotten ever since Atem's return. A few weeks ago, he couldn't bear to see his hair sticking out in all directions like that, but now his neat ponytail seemed so silly: it made him look so unlike himself he wondered how on earth he hadn't noticed up until now.
He loosened his tie, too, then made up his mind and took it off entirely. As he stored it in his briefcase, he noticed the cab driver observing him through the rearview mirror.
"You look familiar," the man told him. After a bit of deliberation, he added, "You are that King of Games guy, right?"
Yuugi's cheeks flushed. "Err—yes, that's me."
The cab driver grinned. "Whoa! Wait till I tell my nephew—he's a big fan of yours!"
"Really?"
"Yeah! He wants to be a duelist. Both him and my younger niece."
Yuugi smiled, pleasantly taken aback. He was used to people saying stuff like that to him, but it had been a while since anyone had recognized him. When the cab driver told him about all the times his nephew came running back from school to watch Yuugi's duels on the TV, Yuugi laughed and made a mental note to tell that to Atem later.
He signed two autographs for the driver's nephews before leaving and paid him despite the man's insistence that the ride was 'on the house'. Then he stood on the sidewalk and watched the cab drive away, mulling over… everything.
Hearing about his old duelist career left behind an echo of something both pleasant and sad; a bittersweet nostalgia. Former glory, he thought to himself. He loved designing games, but he'd lie if he said he didn't miss the rush of a good duel.
He sighed, fogging up the air around him. He looked at the teashop across the street; he'd never been there before, but he'd read plenty of good reviews. From afar, the place looked cozy and warm; its wide windows looked out to the street, framed with heavy curtains.
Yuugi could see that the inside was already packed with people. He searched with his gaze for Anzu, but he didn't spot her among the patrons. He wondered if she was already inside, out of view, or if he should wait for her. Thinking that calling her would be his best option, he took out his phone, but he paused when he noticed an unread message.
From Atem:
Good luck. :)
Yuugi stared at the tiny words. He read them again, almost hearing Atem's voice in his head, and his chest clenched in a sort of sweet ache. It might be just a text, but it felt like an amulet—like having Atem with him, covering his back. Like old times.
He chuckled to himself. He was all about nostalgia today, wasn't he?
He considered replying, but he was interrupted by someone shouting his name. He raised his head and saw Anzu half a block away, walking briskly towards him.
For a second, every thought in his head froze. He stared as she approached; she was moving so elegantly she almost seemed to glide across the sidewalk, with her beige coat billowing around her.
Part of Yuugi was overwhelmed by the need to get closer to her, and part of him wished that she would never reach him. He stood, conflicted, waiting for her as all the nervousness of the day came crashing over him like a wave.
She stopped in front of him, dazzling and beautiful and smiling widely. "Hey, Yuugi!"
He tried to return the smile despite the numbness. "Hello, Anzu." His voice sounded unbearably formal to his ears, so he inwardly urged himself to relax.
Anzu didn't seem to notice. "I hope you haven't been waiting for long," she said brightly.
"No, no, I just arrived," Yuugi replied. He gestured towards the shop. "Shall we?"
The inside was gloriously warm, full of soft colors and relaxing music. Yuugi and Anzu made their way to the back of the shop, where it was less crowded—and thus, a bit more private. They picked a small table that stood against a corner, with a small couch on one side and a chair on the other.
Anzu took off her coat and sat on the couch, but Yuugi hesitated, not knowing whether he was supposed to sit next to her or across from her. Sitting on the couch next to her seemed monumentally intimate, so he took the single chair and pretended not to notice when her face fell a bit.
He settled in his seat, every now and then glancing towards her with a vague sense of disbelief. It always took him a while to get used to her presence; he'd spent so much time away from her that every time she returned he went through the same process of bewilderment, wonder, and then finally acceptance.
Anzu, who normally stood straight and tall with the grace of a ballerina, was now sitting with her palms pressed between her thighs, slightly curled in. When she caught his eye she smiled again, and it all felt so weird: as if they were teenagers out on their first date, too awkward to start a conversation.
He might have seen her a mere month ago, but still, Yuugi had missed her: he realized it as he looked at her now, noticing all the small changes on her. She seemed to have lost a bit of weight, and she looked tired—which was to be expected, what with the stress of moving and travelling.
And Yuugi wasn't about to be too kind to her: what he was about to reveal would undoubtedly stress her even more.
This is it, he thought to himself. The moment he'd been thinking about for days had finally come. He gazed at Anzu, hardly believing that they were there at last.
He took a long, deep inhale. Well, he didn't have to dive right into the serious stuff. There were so many things he could ask her first: he could ask about the dance company, and how moving out of New York had felt. He knew she loved New York, so it was bound to be hard for her. Was she missing the city already? Was she missing the friends she'd made there?
He decided to start with the simple subject.
"How was your flight?"
"Oh, you know," Anzu waved a hand. "Same as always. Although it was kinda weird, knowing that I wouldn't be going back this time."
"I bet leaving was hard."
"It always was. Leaving New York to come here, leaving here every time I had to go back to New York… I'm kinda glad I will no longer have to go through it anymore."
Yuugi tried to smile. "That's good."
She nodded. "Yes… Scary, but good scary." She gave him a long, calculating look. "How have you been?"
"Umm…" Yuugi avoided her eyes. "I told you. Busy, mostly."
It was too early to drop the bomb. They should at least order their drinks first.
Anzu kept observing him. "You look different."
Yuugi chuckled, a bit taken aback. "Do I?"
"Yes. You look… better."
Yuugi guessed he did. He felt better—even though he was also overwhelmed and confused and very, very nervous. He ran a hand though his unruly tufts and tried to laugh it off. "It's just the hair."
Anzu smiled. "Your hair does look better that way. But it's not just that. You look… happier."
Yuugi's heart gave a loud thud.
He could say it now. She had practically offered him the opportunity on a plate: he could tell her exactly what had happened, but he hesitated. The words seemed unwilling to reach his lips.
He avoided her eyes, grabbing the tea menu instead and pretending to peruse it. Thankfully, the waiter arrived to take their orders, thus saving Yuugi from the need to say something.
He indulged himself these few moments of relief, even though he knew it was nothing more than a brief respite. Just a minute to gather my courage, he said to himself, to ease the guilt that rose in him.
When the waiter left, Anzu settled a bit more comfortably in her seat and smiled at Yuugi. He didn't speak, so she took in upon her to restart the conversation.
"So… Your game is such a big hit already!"
Yuugi nodded, thankful for the harmless subject. "Yes. All of the team worked hard."
"I hope you are getting some rest now. You deserve it."
"Thanks. We are." He couldn't stand the warmth in her eyes, so he looked at the table instead. "What about your job? Are you planning to join a company here?"
"Maybe. Or maybe I'll open my own studio. We'll see."
"Won't you miss the stage?"
"Oh, I'm sure I will, but I had my fill. I can't say I'm disappointed," she said, but her smile was a bit strained.
"That's… good," Yuugi said, wincing internally at how hollow his words sounded. He was sure Anzu could see that his heart wasn't really in the conversation; he was so distracted it had to be noticeable.
Still, he kept at the small talk until the waiter arrived with their order. They both fell silent a bit too quickly—or maybe too relieved—and watched him place the small teapots and cups in front of them.
Anzu filled her cup with a dark, rich-scented tea. She took a sip and made an appreciative sound. "Ooh. That's so good. Wanna try?" She gestured at her cup, as she'd done thousands of times before—as if not a day had passed and she and Yuugi were still a couple, sharing cups and trying food off of each other's plates.
Yuugi's heart thrummed in his chest, but he shook his head. "No, thank you." He didn't offer her a sip from his tea.
If Anzu was dampened by this, she didn't show it. She took it with grace, as she always did, and kept sipping from her own cup.
"So. My old room is a nightmare," she chuckled after a while. "It's so full of boxes! And not all of them are mine, mind you. Apparently, Mom was using it as a storage room while I was gone." She let out a long-suffering sigh, but she was still smiling.
Yuugi knew why she was mentioning it. Anzu hadn't had to live in her old room for years now. Every time she came back from America, she stayed over at Yuugi's home; her husband's home.
He pretended not to understand where she was going with this.
"I am sure you'll settle in quickly. Soon it'll be like you never left," he said.
Anzu gazed down at her cup, her smile flickering on her lips. "You know… I was kinda hoping I would get to settle in a different room." She stole a glance up at Yuugi, and there was no mistaking the hopefulness in her expression.
Yuugi tensed. He had to answer this time, but what would he say? He couldn't talk about her moving back in before telling her that he had acquired a roommate in the meantime. This was something he had to get out of the way, but-
Just say it, he told himself.
He opened his mouth, but the words got stuck in his throat. Instead of talking, he drank a bit of tea, barely tasting it.
This was getting ridiculous.
He thought of Atem's text—proof of his existence—and allowed himself to remember the comfort it had brought. Atem was there; he had his back. It was okay.
He forced himself to look into Anzu's eyes.
"Anzu… There's something I need to tell you."
The smile disappeared from her lips. The nervousness she hadn't allowed to show so far came to the surface, but she returned the look steadily.
"There's something you need to know before we discuss… anything else," Yuugi went on.
"I figured that much. I mean, you said so on the phone." She let out an awkward laugh. "Just say it, it's okay." She was trying to sound braver than she felt—Yuugi could tell. Well, that made two of them.
Yuugi tried to ignore the constricted feeling in his throat. Anzu was waiting patiently, her eyes fixed on him.
This was it. Yuugi took a deep breath.
"Atem is back."
He heard the words from afar, as if someone else had said them.
For a few moments, it was impossible to tell whether he had said it out loud or imagined it, because there was no reaction from Anzu. But he must have said it out loud; he could sense Atem's name hanging in the air between them, its echo vibrating like a tense thread.
Several seconds ticked by before Anzu's face changed. She frowned at him, as if she were also trying to figure out if she had heard correctly—or if he had spoken at all. "What?"
Yuugi fought the urge to look away. The words were out already; he could say them again.
"Atem is back."
Silence fell again. Anzu was looking at him with a look of guarded disbelief on her face. "What- What do you mean, Atem is…? Are you messing with me?"
There was humor glinting in the edges of her eyes. She was ready to accept this as a joke and laugh it off.
Yuugi didn't laugh. "No. He's back. He's back, Anzu." His voice turned thick, so he coughed to clear it.
All traces of humor disappeared from Anzu's face. "Okay, stop. This isn't funny."
"I'm not joking."
In the pause that followed, Anzu kept looking at him in the same calculating way. She examined his face, searching. Yuugi didn't know what she was looking for; he only knew that now that the truth was out, he felt like some huge barrier in his mind was torn down. Relief coursed through him, so intense that his skin prickled with it.
He had said it. It was out; no going back.
Slowly, Anzu's irritation turned into disbelief. Her lips parted as she stared at Yuugi, but something in her eyes seemed to turn deeper and deeper, like some kind of realization setting in.
"What do you mean, he's back?" she asked.
"I mean he's alive. He's here, in Domino." Yuugi couldn't recognize his voice.
To his surprise, she laughed, shaking her head. "No," she said simply.
"He is, Anzu."
"No," she repeated. The look on her face bordered on heartbroken. She looked into Yuugi's eyes, as if imploring him to drop the joke and tell her the truth.
Yuugi could understand how she felt—he'd gone through it, too.
He leaned a bit closer and softened his voice. "It's true. I don't know how, but it's true. He has his own body." After a second's hesitation, he added, "He's living with me."
"It can't be." Her voice sounded almost pained.
Yuugi felt the impulse to take her hand in his and comfort her, but he stopped himself. He gripped his tea cup instead; it rattled softly against the table.
"It came as a shock to me, too. At first, I thought I'd gone crazy."
Anzu's forehead crumpled; she seemed lost. "How? How did it happen?"
"We're… not sure."
"Why now? Why after all this time?"
Yuugi shook his head.
He guessed he could mention the Spellbook and their suspicions about it, but he really did not feel that this was the time to discuss this. This was not the subject he was burning to talk about, anyway. He watched Anzu's reactions, looking for clues that she was thinking what he feared she would, but Anzu merely seemed lost.
She looked around, as if something in the tea shop would come to her aid, handing her out all the explanations. Then she froze abruptly. She turned back to Yuugi, her eyes hard and distant.
"The others know," she said in an unnaturally level voice.
There was nothing of the sweetness he was used to seeing on her face. Every feature was set in a hard line, her jaw clenched, lips pursed. Yuugi did not remember ever seeing that expression on her.
"Yes," he admitted. "They have seen him, yes."
"The others knew all along," she said. She wasn't asking; she was stating it as a fact.
"Yes."
"And you hid it from me."
Her anger was a solid thing, cold like ice.
Yuugi didn't know what to say. He hadn't expected her to focus on that, of all things. He rubbed the stiff muscle on the back of his neck, trying to figure out what to say.
"And don't tell me that it just didn't come up," she added suddenly, "because you hid it on purpose. All of you. I was talking with Jounouchi and-" She paused and her look turned even more incredulous as something dawned on her. "Hell, even Shizuka. Does everyone know?"
Yuugi could feel his face turning hot. "Yes." He guessed he'd better not mention that they had thrown Atem a party.
"Everyone except me," Anzu said, and hearing it put so bluntly made the back of Yuugi's neck crawl with shame. "Why? Why did you hide it?"
"I… It's… It's complicated."
"Try me."
Yuugi sighed. He guessed he could try to find some sort of excuse, but there was no better excuse than the truth.
"I was afraid. Because of what you'd said to me… back then." He couldn't bear to repeat her words to her; he knew they both remembered them. As the memory flitted though his head, his resolve hardened. "I thought that, if you found out that Atem is back, you would no longer want to give our marriage a second chance. I still… fear that."
He didn't know if he had sounded accusing, bitter, or afraid; maybe he'd been all of these simultaneously.
Anzu blanched a bit, but she stood her ground. Her eyes narrowed. "And you thought that you could… What? Hide it forever?"
"No, no, I just… needed some time. It was huge for me."
"How long ago did it happen?"
"Umm… A month, more or less. On the night we last met."
Anzu shook her head in disbelief. "A month…" she repeated. She was no longer looking at Yuugi; she seemed too disgusted to set her eyes on him. That expression reminded Yuugi so vividly of the night of their big fight that his hands started trembling. That look of disappointment was the very same she'd had before she had walked out. Back then she'd been disappointed that Yuugi hadn't turned out like Atem, and the current disappointment seemed similar: Yuugi had failed her by being a coward, caught up in thinking too much and hesitating for too long.
He looked right at her angry glower. She had every right to be mad, but Yuugi had had every reason to be distrustful, too. He wasn't the only one who had to explain himself.
"Look," he said, "I know I have no right to tell you not to be angry, but… it was too much. You had just told me that you were coming back, and then Atem returned too, and I had no idea how to handle any of it. I'm not trying to make excuses for myself, but-"
"But you are," Anzu cut him off.
Yuugi huffed and threw his hands in the air. "Maybe. I don't know. I'm just trying to explain what it was like for me."
"Did any of you think what it was like for me?"
"I did," Yuugi said with a firmness he'd rarely used when talking to her. "I did, and that was why I didn't want to tell you."
He matched her glare with one of his own. His accusation had been vague—barely an accusation—but she'd understood.
Her face set in a stony expression, all muscles evidently rigid. "So you don't trust me at all."
Yuugi didn't speak. The truth was that… no. He didn't trust her. That was why they were going through this—that was why he'd been worrying about having both her and Atem in the house, that was why he'd been dreading the moment she'd find out.
But he also wanted to trust her. And that was why he was here; that was why he was still wearing his wedding ring and why he hadn't signed the divorce papers.
"I want to give our marriage a chance," Yuugi said. "But I also want to be certain about a few things first. I need everything to be… clear."
Anzu crossed her hands across her chest, looking at anywhere but Yuugi. A spasm rippled across her face; she looked like she was about to cry.
There was nothing else to say, really. Except maybe one thing.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier," Yuugi said.
Anzu blinked to hold back her tears.
"And if you want to take back your proposal… about our marriage… I get it. I really do," he added.
Anzu sniffed and wiped her nose. "You can't possibly expect me to talk about that right now," she said in a thick voice.
"I hoped we would."
"Then you shouldn't have hidden it from me!" she said, turning around to glare at him with eyes brimming with tears. "You say that it was big for you and that you couldn't handle it—well, I can't handle it right now, either! And I can't handle the fact that you all kept it from me! In case you forgot, Atem was my friend, too! Did any of you think about that? Did it maybe occur to you that I had the right to know? You had no right to keep it from me! No right whatsoever!"
Yuugi tried to keep his voice calm. "I know. Jounouchi said from day one-"
"Well, Jounouchi kept this from me as much as the rest of you!"
"Only because I asked him to."
"That does not make it any better!" she raised her voice. "I come back and find that you are all in on a secret, and you expect me to just be okay with it? Do you have any idea how awful that month was? I had to move out, to… to say goodbye to everything that had been my life for ten years, and all of a sudden I found that everyone was avoiding me! I was all alone and I had no idea why! And you did not think—" her voice grew tremulous, "—you did not even think that I was as much of Atem's friend as the rest of you are! You all kept me in the dark! You agreed on this! And now you expect me to sit and talk about our marriage? To talk about… giving chances?"
She jumped to her feet, wiping her eyes furiously. She grabbed her coat and put it on with such harsh movements it was a miracle it didn't rip.
"I'm sorry, Yuugi, but I can't do this right now."
Before Yuugi had time to answer—before he had time to do anything but blink—Anzu was gone.
He didn't get up to try and stop her or catch up to her. He stayed in his seat because… really, what would he say?
He groaned and hid his face in his hands. She had been right—what had he expected? That she wouldn't mind that they hid it from her? That she would be able to discuss things calmly after such a reveal?
He heard a soft cough somewhere close to him.
He raised his head and saw the waiter again, smiling at him in a sort of sympathetic way. "Will your friend be coming back?"
"No," Yuugi huffed. He grabbed his coat and put it on. "Sorry for the trouble." He paid for their tea and left as fast as he could, pretending not to notice the curious glances thrown his way.
When he got outside, the cold hit him like a solid wall. Anzu was, of course, nowhere to be seen.
Yuugi turned up the collar of his coat to protect as much of his face as he could and took out his phone with a sigh.
Atem was in the bathroom, fumbling with the eyeliner in front of the mirror, when the doorbell rang.
It was Jounouchi, right on time. Atem buzzed him in and waited for him by the door.
"Hey, buddy!" Jounouchi shouted the moment he stepped out the elevator. He gave Atem a hearty pat on the back and walked in, closing the door behind him. "Are you not ready to go yet?"
"I just need a couple of minutes," Atem said, shaking the tube of eyeliner he was still holding.
Jounouchi followed him to the bathroom. He leaned against the doorframe and watched Atem as he put on makeup.
"Are these Yuugi's clothes?" he asked after a while, looking at him up and down.
Atem glanced at the clothes he wore. "…Yes."
"You haven't gone shopping yet? Or are you two so close you can't help but share everything?"
Atem stalled by pretending to focus on the eyeliner.
"I have gone shopping," he said at last. "I go to the store all the time."
"Yeah, for groceries," Jounouchi pointed out. "It doesn't really count. You need some clothes of your own."
Atem shrugged. "Aibou said he doesn't mind sharing."
"Yeah, and aibou is also worried you are having trouble adjusting."
"He does?" Atem asked, even though that wasn't particularly surprising. He had figured out that much.
"Of course he does!"
Atem put the eyeliner down and checked himself in the mirror. He had done a good job: his reflection sent a satisfying wave of familiarity through him.
"Okay, I'm ready," Atem said, hoping it wouldn't be too obvious that he was trying to avoid the subject.
Jounouchi didn't seem to mind. "Alright, let's go! Happy hour's from five till seven!"
"Happy hour?" Atem asked as he put on his—no, Yuugi's—shoes and coat.
"Yeah. Happy hour means lower prices in drinks. Seriously, you need to go out more."
"I do go out."
"Oh, yeah? Cause Yuug's been telling me you been holed up in here for a while," Jounouchi said with a smirk, pushing a spare motorcycle helmet towards him.
Atem accepted the helmet and fiddled with it to avoid looking at Jounouchi. "I went for a walk in the park yesterday," he mumbled.
"Wow. Wild."
Outside, the cold was sharp enough to make Atem's nose and fingers freeze instantly. He climbed on Jounouchi's bike, already shivering despite his thick coat.
The ride wasn't long, but it was enough for the cold to seep all the way to Atem's bones. When they parked the bike and got off of it, he jumped on the spot to warm himself, even though he was certain he looked ridiculous—and definitely not pharaoh-like.
"Come on, let's go inside," Jounouchi said through chattering teeth, pulling Atem towards a pub.
The place Jounouchi had picked was a dimly lit place, full of rustic benches and wooden barrels—but most importantly, it was warm. Atem let out an audible sigh, but he kept blowing on his hands until he regained feeling in them.
There weren't many people in the pub this early in the evening, so Jounouchi and Atem were able to pick a comfortable bench right in the middle of the shop. They sat on a bench next to each other, Jounouchi smiling widely despite his running nose. He reached for a menu and opened it in front of Atem. "What do you wanna drink?"
There were so many different kinds and brands of beer in the menu; pages and pages of them. Atem looked at them with apprehension. "What do you recommend?"
"Depends on what you like."
Atem had to think about it for a bit. "The fruit punch we had at the party was nice."
"I don't think they serve fruit punch here," Jounouchi sniggered.
Atem looked through the beers in the menu and twisted his nose slightly. "I don't like beer."
"Have you tried modern beer? You know, I mean… Not the ancient Egyptian stuff."
"I don't think so."
"Then you should at least try it. It's worth a shot."
Atem was not convinced, but he budged. "Alright."
He let Jounouchi place their order for them and took out his phone. When he saw no new calls, his spirits fell a bit. He had hoped for at least a text from Yuugi—maybe an update on how he was feeling or where he was right now—but his partner was probably too preoccupied to chat.
Still, Atem wanted to say something, just to let him know that he was there for him. He might no longer be able to accompany him all the time and whisper encouragement in his brain, but he could still do it from a distance.
He typed, Good luck, then paused. He contemplated adding something—maybe write I'm sure everything will be fine, or I believe in you. In the end he simply added a smiley emoji and hit send.
When he put the phone down, he realized Jounouchi was watching him.
"Yuugi, huh?" he asked, gesturing towards the phone.
"Yes."
Jounouchi gave a slow, somber nod. "The big date with Anzu. Damn. I hope it goes well."
"Me too."
Atem checked his phone but no reply came, so he placed it back down with a sigh. His foot bounced up and down, tapping the floor repeatedly.
"Nervous?" Jounouchi asked.
"A little," Atem said, even though that was a major understatement. It was odd, knowing that somewhere in the city a discussion about him was going on, without him having any idea what was being said. "I just don't know what to expect."
"I do."
Atem blinked at Jounouchi, bewildered. "You do?"
"Yeah. Anzu will probably punch Yuugi for not telling her sooner. And then she'll hunt me down and punch me, too," he added with a wince.
"What?" Atem said in alarm.
Jounouchi laughed and waved a hand. "Nah, I'm just kidding. But it's high time they talked. It's for the best."
Atem sighed, marginally reassured. "Yeah…" He checked his phone again. Still nothing.
While Atem agreed that it was for the best, he couldn't help but wonder what he would consider the best outcome to be. He knew he was hoping for something; he just had no idea what that something was.
The obvious answer would be… that he hoped for Yuugi to get back with Anzu. That would make Yuugi happy. He said so himself. And yet…
Atem tapped his phone again, mostly out of indecision. He hated that he didn't know what was going on. But he had made a deal with himself, and he had agreed to practice sitting in the sidelines at least for one day. There was nothing to do but wait.
He let out a long exhale and said in a low voice, as if he didn't want to be overheard, "Jounouchi… Do you think it would be good for Yuugi if he got back with Anzu?"
Jounouchi looked a bit taken aback at the question; he shifted in his seat and tapped his lips thoughtfully. "I don't know if it's my place to tell."
"Yes, but as his friend," Atem insisted, his heart beating a bit harder, "…what do you think? What would be best for Yuugi?"
Jounouchi shook his head. "Okay, look. I'd lie if I said I haven't been wondering about that, too. But you know how it is. They've been together for so long… They know each other so well."
Atem had a few doubts about that. Wasn't what Anzu had said to Yuugi—'You are nothing like him' —proof that she didn't know him as well as everyone thought? No person who knew Yuugi would have ever expected him to be the same as Atem—and no person who truly knew Yuugi would ever be disappointed that he was being no one but himself.
"I remember the time before things turned… rough," Jounouchi went on. "They were so happy together. I dunno, I think that now that Anzu will be back in Domino, they could be like that again. And if that's what Yuugi wants…" He paused to shrug. "Who am I to judge?"
"Yes, but is it the best for him?" Atem asked again.
Jounouchi looked at him for a few seconds, thinking it over.
"Why are you so worried whether it's the best?"
"Because I care about Yuugi," Atem replied at once. And because I couldn't bear to see him as sad and worn out as I did on the night of my return, he added inwardly.
"Well, if it doesn't work out, I guess they'll break up," Jounouchi said with another shrug. "They'll deal with that when the time comes."
That was not good enough for Atem. Something like that would mean more pain for Yuugi—more stress, more heartbreak.
"I don't want him to through that again," he said.
"No one does, pal. But there's no way to know what will happen."
Atem shook his head. "That's not enough for me. I need to be certain-"
He stopped talking. There was no way to continue that sentence without admitting to all the less-than-happy thoughts that were consuming him. He looked at his palms, and for an absurd second he remembered his dream, where he reached out to touch Mahad with a hand heavy with gold and jewels.
Was Atem's fate to always leave those who needed him?
Jounouchi's frown turned skeptical as he stared at him. "Why are you so worried about it, man? What's wrong?"
The concern on Jounouchi's face was genuine.
He was a good friend. Atem could talk to him. After all, they both cared about Yuugi. He would understand; maybe even help him and keep an eye on Yuugi when Atem would be gone.
"I am worried because… If something were to happen to me… I would like to know I am leaving Yuugi in good hands," he said.
He swallowed, his heart beating hard. He had not admitted that out loud to anyone, not even to Yuugi.
Jounouchi's expression turned serious. "What are you talking about, dude? Why would something happen to you?"
"Because it's possible. We don't know how or why I came back."
"So?"
"So we… We don't know if or when I might disappear again." Saying this made Atem's skin feel sickly hot, because he realized once more just how probable it sounded.
Jounouchi was sitting very still, looking at him. Suddenly his expression changed, as if something in his brain clicked, and he let out a huff that sounded like a long, quiet whistle. "Is that what you've been thinking about?"
Atem nodded.
"You've been thinking about it all this time?" Jounouchi asked again, half-incredulous, half-bewildered. "Is that why… you refuse to buy stuff, or… do anything besides sitting around?"
Atem felt a bit embarrassed, but he nodded. "I try to avoid leaving too many traces of my existence, yes."
"Traces of your…?" Jounouchi shook his head, shifting where he was sitting on the bench. "Dude, that's… Wow. Have you talked to Yuugi about it?"
"No."
"And yet you spend your days thinking about whether you'll leave him in good hands or not," Jounouchi said; it sounded a lot like he was scolding him.
"…Yes," Atem murmured.
"Whoa, dude. No. No. Wait. Where's that beer?"
He looked around for the waitress, who did indeed show up a second later carrying two large glasses. Atem accepted his glass with a non-enthusiastic 'Thanks,' whereas Jounouchi wasted no time in taking a large gulp.
"Okay, so let me get this straight," he said, wiping his mouth and fixing Atem with a steady look. "You fear that one day you'll just-" he snapped his fingers- "disappear in a puff of smoke?"
Atem's face felt hot and clammy. He looked at his drink, as if suddenly absorbed by the spectacle of the icy droplets clinging on the glass, but he made no attempt to take a sip. "Yes."
"And you've been keeping it inside all this time because…?"
Atem sighed. "Because I didn't want aibou to worry about me."
"Well, your plan failed, because he is worried. But that's not even my point. The thing is, you really shouldn't think like that. There's no point."
"It's a valid concern," Atem murmured.
"Yeah, it is. And it's not just your concern."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean everybody thinks about this at some point in their life."
Atem turned to look at him. "It's not the same, Jounouchi. I do not belong here. I am, once again, out of time. It's not…" He paused, not really knowing how to explain the magnitude of what he felt. "It's not my life," he ended up saying in a quiet voice.
Jounouchi frowned at him. "You are here right now, though. You have a body, and you are breathing and talking and sitting next to me. Right?"
Unsure where this was going, Atem said, "…Right."
Jounouchi shrugged, as if that reply had been enough. "Then it's your life."
Atem frowned, brows knitting low over his nose. "No, you don't get it—that's not enough. I do not belong—I just materialized out of thin air. For all I know, my existence could be an accident."
Jounouchi gave him a thin smile. "Not to get too philosophical, but the same could be said for many of us, if not all."
"But—"
"I think you are trying hard to not allow yourself to belong here. Because you are afraid."
Atem closed his mouth. He felt caught. Because sure… He was afraid. And he was ashamed for it, because he was not supposed to be afraid—he was supposed to be brave and steadfast.
Jounouchi shook his head, the same smile playing on his lips. "The thing is, it's okay. It's okay to be afraid. Everybody is."
"What do you mean?" Atem mumbled, some part of him wanting to deny that he was afraid because it was shameful, and some other part wanting to admit to it and just be done with it.
"I mean, this is something we all go through. That's what life is like. No one knows what will happen to them tomorrow, or in an hour from now—or, hell, in a few minutes."
"Yes, but you… Your rightful place is here. It's different."
"Is it?" Jounouchi mused. "I schedule a tournament that's in six months from now, and I make plans with Seto for the Duelist School, but I don't know if a car is gonna hit me on my way home tonight."
"Don't say that," Atem said at once, inwardly flinching at the thought.
Jounouchi shrugged, impossibly unbothered. "That's how it is. None of us knows, and no one can ever know. You think I don't worry about myself, or Shizuka, or Miko? I go crazy with worry sometimes. I keep thinking, 'what if' . But I've learned that you can't let that 'what if' consume you."
Atem looked away. He started picking at a splinter on the wooden bench with his nail. "It's not easy to just stop being concerned, though."
"No, it's not. But at some point you gotta choose. Are you gonna spend your days worrying about your life, or are you gonna live it?"
Atem frowned. It was still hard to this of this as 'his life', but… What if it was? What if Jounouchi was right?
But how to stop being afraid?
How, when in a few days, or weeks, they could have answers about the Spellbook—or no answers at all—and realize that his mission was over and he needed to leave again? How to set roots when the ground he was standing on was so unstable? He felt like trying to balance during an earthquake—or trying to walk on quicksand.
As if seeing the conflict on Atem's face, Jounouchi let out a soft sigh. "Look. I don't say that your fear isn't valid. But it's no good spending your days worrying about something that may or may never happen. Because—think of it that way. If it never happens, you will have wasted your days worrying over nothing. And if it does happen… Well, you're gonna look back and realize you could have put what time you had to better use."
Atem stared at him, slowly mulling it over.
If it never happened… Was that really possible? Was it possible that what Atem feared for… would never happen?
He'd never actually thought of what was happening to him as a second chance at life—'life' seemed to big and too scary a word to him—but maybe he was being incredibly stubborn in his refusal to even consider it. Maybe this was his chance, and maybe this was not stolen time, but simply… his time.
And he had just chosen to ignore it, taking for granted the worst possible scenario and working from there.
Jounouchi wrapped an arm around his shoulders and gave him a squeeze. "We don't know what will happen tomorrow, pal. It could be worse than today, but it could also be ten times better. Whatever it is, we are just gonna live it."
Ten times better.
Yes. It was possible—as possible as any scenario.
And Jounouchi was right about one thing. No matter the circumstances, Atem had found himself with some time in his hands: he had found himself with a body, next to his friends, very much alive and breathing. So, really, when—and if—the time to leave came, he'd like to look back on something other than memories of biting his nails in agony.
He looked at his glass of beer, his mind already racing to a million different things he could do. All this time—all these things he could have done with Yuugi. With Yuugi, and the rest of his friends. With just being there.
This had been what he had wanted, back before Battle City—before he had to come to accept that the only place he could hope to belong to was the afterlife.
To think that he truly belonged here… To think that this was his. It seemed more precious than anything he'd ever had—he, who had once been a pharaoh.
A small smile broke the stiffness of his locked jaw.
Seeing this, Jounouchi's grin widened. He grabbed his glass and lifted it, holding it slightly out towards Atem. "Cheers, mate!"
Atem picked up his own glass and clinked it to Jounouchi's. "Cheers," he smiled back.
He took a sip, tasting his drink for the first time since the waitress had left it in front of him. It wasn't as bad as he remembered beer to be—not as watery and certainly not as warm—but he still wasn't sure he liked it. He made a grimace as he swallowed and Jounouchi burst out laughing.
"Look at your face!" He laughed again, patting Atem's shoulder. "It's okay; you don't have to drink it if you don't like it."
"No, it's…" Atem trailed off, unable to find a fitting description. He took another sip, to confirm it, and grimaced again. "No, I can't drink this. I'm sorry."
He pushed the glass away as Jounouchi laughed again.
"Okay, I guess you could try asking them for some fruit punch… Or an Appletini."
Atem hummed and reached for the menu. The beer catalogue was overwhelming, but he spotted a small list of wines in the last page. If his memory served him right, wine had been quite pleasant, even in the past.
"I think I'll try this," he said, pointing at the menu. He eyed his glass of beer again and pushed it a little further away.
"As you please, Your Majesty."
Five minutes later, the waitress brought Atem a long stemmed glass with red wine; even the smell was a lot more appealing than the beer's had been. He tried some and the sweet, fruity taste stirred a number of memories in the back of his head. He smiled, satisfied, and took another sip.
Talking was much easier after this. It was as if something in Atem had unlocked—something that had kept him tense and closed in himself. Words came effortlessly now that they weren't going in circles in his head, and he was able to kick back and enjoy a discussion about Duel Monsters.
They talked about the latest tournament Jounouchi had been in, analyzing his opponents' combos and thinking about possible counters. The conversation turned so passionate and so fun, Atem did not realize how time flew by—not until the screen of his phone lit up.
He almost dropped his wine glass in his haste to pick it up. "It's Yuugi!" he exclaimed before answering the phone and bringing it to his ear. "Aibou?"
He looked around for a clock, wondering how much time had passed. Was his date with Anzu over already? It couldn't have been this late already—Jounouchi was only now finishing his first beer.
"Hey, Atem," Yuugi's voice reached him, tired and dejected. "Are you still out with Jounouchi?"
Atem frowned; this tone of voice could not mean anything good. "Yes. Why? Where are you? Did you talk with Anzu?"
From the sound of it, Yuugi was somewhere outside, next to a busy street: Atem could hear passing cars and honks.
"I did," Yuugi answered, strained.
Atem's heart leapt to his throat. He opened his mouth to ask more, but Yuugi interrupted him.
"Where are you?"
"Umm… A pub." He looked around again, this time for a sign or the menu, to read the name of the place.
Jounouchi, who had been watching him as he spoke, mouthed, "Drunken Dragon."
"We are at the Drunken Dragon."
Yuugi huffed, his breath loud in the speaker. "Alright. I'm coming over. Wait for me, okay?"
"Okay, aibou."
The line went dead. Atem stared at his phone for a few seconds without moving, feeling his former disquiet crawling back up his spine.
"What happened?" Jounouchi asked.
"He said he's coming here."
Jounouchi frowned, looking at his own phone. "That's strange. It's far too early. Didn't he meet with Anzu?"
"He said he did. But he didn't sound happy."
"Ouch," Jounouchi grimaced. "You reckon it didn't go well?"
"I guess we'll find out in a while."
It took Yuugi fifteen minutes to arrive. He walked in the pub, wrapped into plenty of layers of warm clothing; what was visible of his face looking red from the cold. The pub had started filling with people by now, but he spotted Atem and Jounouchi immediately and walked up to them.
"Hey, Yuug!" Jounouchi shouted, waving his long arms in greeting.
Atem did not speak, observing Yuugi as he took off his coat and scarf. His black hair was loose, sticking out in that way that was so characteristic to him—and even though Atem preferred it over the strict ponytail, it looked odd paired with the suit Yuugi was wearing. His face looked glum, but there was also a strange shifty quality about his expression—something guilty.
Yuugi set his briefcase down and dropped in the seat across from Atem. He let out a huff that seemed to deflate his body to half its size, and looked at them with his mouth set in a pinched line.
"Hey, guys."
Atem, who had been painstakingly exercising his patience ever since Yuugi's phone call, had to struggle to not sound too alarmed as he asked, "What happened, aibou? How did it go?"
"Did you talk with Anzu?" Jounouchi chimed in.
Yuugi nodded, and the thin line of his mouth curved into an awkward smile. "It… didn't go very well."
Atem looked at him, not wanting to sound too pressing but also bursting with the desire to ask more; his foot had started tapping the floor again. He gave Yuugi what he hoped was an encouraging look, as Jounouchi asked, "Why? What happened?"
Yuugi looked away from them, his smile turning guiltier by the second. "Umm… Basically… She got angry."
Jounouchi let out a groan; Atem frowned. "Why?"
"Well…" Yuugi leaned with his elbows against the bench and laced his fingers, staring down at them. "She was shocked at first, of course. But then she got angry that we hid it from her for so long. And—ugh, you know what?" he said with a wince. "I can't blame her. I handled it so badly."
Hearing the self-blame in Yuugi's voice instinctively made Atem tense up, and he opened his mouth to dispute it, but Jounouchi spoke first.
"What did she say about Atem?"
Yuugi winced again, as if remembering it made him feel worse. "Not much. She… She mostly chewed me off for not telling her earlier."
Jounouchi huffed. "Oh, man. Then I should also expect a rant soon."
"Nah…" Yuugi shook his head. "I don't know. I mean… She wasn't wrong."
"So, you didn't talk about…?" Atem started saying, but he trailed off. He wanted to say 'your marriage' but, looking at Yuugi's face, he guessed the question was kinda rhetoric.
Yuugi shook his head. "We didn't talk about anything else. I tried to ask her, but she was too overwhelmed and… She told me she couldn't do this right now. And then she left."
"She left you there?"
Yuugi gave him a faint smile and said, "Can you blame her?"
Jounouchi clicked his tongue but, to his merit, he didn't say 'I told you so'—probably because Yuugi seemed to be feeling bad enough already. "Alright, think of it this way," he said instead. "This was something that had to be done, and now it's over. Everything's out in the open."
"Yeah…" Yuugi sighed, looking tiny and oddly young, as if they were all a bunch of teenagers again, trying to find the best way to handle matters of heart.
"Just give her time," Atem said in his most reassuring voice. "She'll come around soon, you'll see."
Yuugi made a grimace. "I'm not so sure. She was very angry."
Atem reached out across the table and took one of Yuugi's hands in his own. It was still cold from his short trip on the streets, so Atem squeezed it to warm it. "It will be alright," he said, searching for Yuugi's gaze under the black tufts that fell in front of his face.
Yuugi raised his head a bit and their eyes met. He squeezed his hand back; then, surprisingly, he chuckled. "Honestly, I don't know what I expected."
"Don't beat yourself up, aibou. It was just a big shock. But Jounouchi's right: it's out of the way now."
"I guess…" Yuugi gave Atem's hand another small squeeze before releasing it and sitting up straighter. He looked at the glasses in front of them—and the one still full glass of beer on Atem's side—and he asked, "What are we drinking?"
"His Majesty over here hates beer, apparently," Jounouchi said, pointing a thumb at Atem. "He didn't want his."
Yuugi reached for the glass, but it had been sitting out for too long, the foam now entirely dissolved; after a tiny sip, he made a disgusted face. "Ugh, no. I'm ordering a new one."
Atem laughed lightly, watching as Yuugi pushed the glass as far away from him as he could.
"I would suggest the red wine, aibou."
Yuugi raised an intrigued eyebrow. "Is it good?"
In lieu of replying, Atem held out his glass to him; without missing a beat, Yuugi took it and tried a sip.
"It's good!" he said with an appreciating nod. He made to drink some more and Atem leaned forward as if to stop him, even though he didn't really mind.
"Order your own glass, aibou," he chuckled.
"Okay, okay. Geez, here." Yuugi gave him back his glass, not quite smiling but looking a lot more relaxed around the corners of his mouth.
He called the waitress and placed his order. After she left, Yuugi let out another monumental sigh and spread his palms on the table before him. "So yeah. That's what happened," he said, resuming their previous subject.
"Are you gonna call her?" Jounouchi asked.
"Not tonight. I don't know." He shrugged and his face fell again. "Call her and say what? No, no. I have no idea what I should do, but I feel so… tired. With all of it." He leaned his head against one hand, tracing circles on the surface of the table with the other. "I've been trying so hard for so long, you know? And right now, all I want… is to not try for a while."
Jounouchi made a sympathetic grimace. "I know what you mean."
"And you know what else?" Yuugi's voice turned firm. He dropped both his hands and looked at his friends with an expression that was almost furious. "I really hate this hair."
Jounouchi let out a yelp and punched the air in triumph. "He said it! He finally said it!"
Atem merely blinked back at Yuugi, trying to figure out if he meant it. Yuugi's face looked hard in determination; as if replying to Atem's questioning look, he said, "It's so… sad. Yeah, I think I'm done with it."
"Hallelujah!" Jounouchi roared, earning several curious glances from the rest of the pub's patrons.
Yuugi giggled; the sound was so surprising that it made Atem smile, too.
"So what are you planning to do with it, aibou?"
Yuugi shrugged. "I miss my old hair. I think… I just miss being me."
A warm and light feeling spread from Atem's chest all the way to his face, making him smile.
Yuugi turned to him, excited. "What do you say? Will you help me with it tomorrow?"
"Of course, aibou. Anything you want."
This reply made Yuugi grin: not just smile in the faint and composed way he used to these days, but truly grin, in a way that made his eyes sparkle—and Atem's heart to flip in his chest.
The waitress brought Yuugi's drink and Jounouchi lost no time in lifting his own glass in a toast.
"Here's to finally seeing some sense!"
Yuugi laughed. Atem was unable to take his eyes off of him; he felt so happy and so light he was overwhelmed by the need to share it. He wanted to get closer to Yuugi and hug him, or just touch him, so he reached out once again to take his hand.
In that moment, he didn't care if this was indeed his second chance at life or not; he didn't care about the semantics of belonging somewhere. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that, however it may have happened, he was getting to live this now.
Even if he had to spend another three thousand years in the afterlife, it would be worth it. Just for seeing Yuugi again, for seeing this smile and feel the warmth of his hand, it would all be worth it. For a day; for a moment; for however long.
And Atem promised himself that, if he ever had to look back, he would do so without regrets.
Ryou climbed the stairs of Malik's apartment building to the first floor, wincing a bit as the strap of his mailman's bag cut into his shoulder. When he reached Malik's door, he rang the doorbell with fingers numb from the cold.
"Ryou!" Malik grinned the moment he opened the door.
Ryou gave him a small but genuine smile. "Hey." He walked in the apartment, immediately scanning the place to check for his yami. When he confirmed that no one else was there besides the two of them, he relaxed and took off his shoes.
As usual, the apartment was well-lit and untidy in a homely way: Malik's favorite hoodie lay in a bundle on the sofa, while a bunch of books and spare helmets were strewn about.
Ryou found Malik's apartment to be quite unique. It might be tiny, but it was stuffed with all sorts of interesting items and mismatched furniture; as it were, it was an explosion of colors. In the living room were cramped a green sofa, a bright yellow armchair, a bookcase painted purple, and another one painted blue; a colorful throw lay half-draped over the sofa, with one of its ends trailing on the floor, and numerous prints and movie posters adorned the walls, along with Malik's martial arts certificates. His telescope stood next to the window, even though Malik couldn't observe the stars from there: he had to either carry it up to the roof or take it with him out of the city, to some spot with less light-pollution.
The only thing that was missing was an equally colorful pair of curtains: there were no curtains at all. It wasn't as if Malik would put them to use. He never closed the shutters, either.
The miniature Ryou had made him for his birthday was already sitting on a prominent spot on his bookcase. Ryou's gaze travelled from it to the coffee table, where a small stack of papers waited, covered by a heavy encyclopedia that completely hid the top page from view.
Ryou let his bag drop; it hit the carped with a heavy thud and the sound of books crashing on one another.
"He's not here yet?" he asked, looking around again just in case he'd missed something during his first inspection.
"No. But it's still early. We said we'd meet at seven," Malik said.
Ryou made a non-committal sound and sat of the sofa, rolling his pained shoulder. Then he fell back onto the cushions and sighed as the tension from his eight-hour shift unwided. He let himself melt on them, as if sinking in warm sand.
Malik perched on the yellow armchair, across from him. He looked as relaxed as always, dressed in sweats and a purple hoodie, with his hair in nonchalant disarray; his earrings glinted, reflecting the brightness of the numerous light sources.
"How was work?" he asked with a smile.
Ryou rubbed his eyes. "Well, I kept wishing a meteorite would crash on the shop so that I would get to leave early, but that didn't happen, so…" He shrugged, adding a small smile to not sound too morose. "What about you?"
"Day off. Do you want some tea?"
"Sure. Thanks."
Malik left; a few seconds later, the clatter of cups and cutlery came from the kitchen.
Ryou stretched against the cushions, feeling his spine pop, and yawned widely. He was so tired already he had no idea how he'd manage to go through with the rest of the evening.
He looked again at the stack of papers in front of him. He lifted the encyclopedia off of them, revealing the top page.
It was just as he remembered it: pitch-black symbols, winding around each other in patterns that made no sense. As a piece of art, it might have been interesting. As a piece of text they were supposed to decipher, it was simply baffling.
He took that top page in his hands and sat back onto the cushions. He followed the trail of a particularly complicated symbol, biting his lip in thoughtfulness.
Thanks to his studies—and his father too, he guessed—Ryou was familiar with a fair share of foreign languages, but this sort of thing was completely alien. It was infuriating… And a bit intriguing.
It remained to be seen whether his yami would be able to read it.
He hated that they had to rely on him so much but… It was like Malik had said. They had a common goal. Allegedly.
Malik walked in the living room with a steaming cup in his hands, but he paused for a bit when he saw Ryou examining the page. He set the mug down on the coffee table and placed the encyclopedia back on the stack of papers, avoiding looking directly at it. "Don't keep that shit lying around like that. Some of us don't have the stomach for it," he said with a chuckle.
"Sorry," Ryou mumbled, tucking the page he was holding out of view.
"It still amazes me how you can stand to look at it."
Ryou took his cup of tea, saying, "Well, you know who to thank for that."
Malik sat back down on the yellow armchair, this time eyeing Ryou intently. "Please, please don't start arguing when he comes here."
"I'm not gonna argue," Ryou said, and it was true. He was planning to simply ignore him. He had plenty of homework to do, anyway.
Malik did not look convinced, but he let it go.
Ryou had no desire to talk about his yami, either. He would spend the rest of his evening with the man himself in his feet; he didn't have to spoil what few minutes of peace he had left.
"How's the movie going?" he asked instead. "Will you have to go back for reshoots?"
Malik shrugged. "I think so. Probably some time next week, or the week after that. I am waiting for them to call me to confirm it."
"Will you have to go to Tokyo again?"
"Yeah."
The doorbell buzzed, making them both jump a bit; Ryou tensed, then immediately forced himself to appear calm and unbothered.
Malik got to his feet and ran to the door, but he paused with his hand over the buzzer. He turned to look back at Ryou.
"Play nice, okay?"
Ryou rolled his eyes. "Just let him in, Malik."
Malik complied and opened the door.
A few seconds later, Bakura appeared on the threshold. He stood there, looking rigid and scowling under the cover of his bangs; he had his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, his shoulders curling in a closed-off posture. His nose and the area around his jaw were an unnatural shade of purple that made Ryou's stomach squirm in unease despite himself.
Bakura's eyes found Ryou at once, and he seemed to scowl even more.
Ryou returned the look, reflecting the sentiment back at him.
Malik, trying to maintain some degree of cheerfulness, said, "Hey, Bakura! Welcome!"
"Yeah," the yami growled and walked in. He took off his combat boots with jerky, stiff movements.
"Do you want some tea?" Malik chirped.
Bakura merely pierced him with a glare. "Where is the Spellbook?"
Malik threw an exasperated look at the ceiling. "Over there," he said, gesturing towards Ryou and the living room.
"Alright."
Ryou looked at him defiantly as he approached, but Bakura did not spare him another glance. He sat on the yellow armchair, took off his jacket and eyed the covered-up stack of papers with a twist in his mouth.
"Let's get this over with."
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Author's note:
I hope eveyone is doing well in these uncertain times, and that maybe this chapter brightened your day a bit. Thank you for the support and your comments, you are all wonderful!
Until next time, take care and stay safe! I love you all ❤︎
