CHAPTER 5: THE "WHO AM I?" CLICHÉ

THE "WHO AM I?" CLICHÉ: When the crew of Star Trek: The Next Generation's Enterprise gets amnesia, everyone assumes that Worf is the captain because he has a sparkly sash. Even without alien induced amnesia, time, imprisonment and betrayal change Edmond Dantes so much that no one recognizes the earnest, idealistic young man who disappears into the Chateau D'If in the urbane, cold-blooded Count of Monte Cristo who emerges. Would Batman be Batman if his parents had lived? And if Krypton hadn't exploded, wouldn't Superman be just another average Joe?

MORAL: Sometimes the question, "Who am I?" can only be answered by saying, "A work in progress."

Atem reined in his horse. He closed his eyes. Why had that strange half-remembered conversation – full of arguments about order and expectations and freedom – streaked across his mind with the urgency and portent of a comet, only to disappear just as quickly? He could remember every cadence of his high priest's voice, even as the words themselves were lost beyond recall. Atem sighed. Set was given to these flights of fancy; his contrariness reminded Atem that his cousin was justly named for the god of storms.

And yet, Atem thought, continuing the argument he barely remembered, wasn't bearing the weight of everyone's expectations, the essence of being a pharaoh? Didn't order and balance – didn't the good of the kingdom – demand the sacrifice of self? He'd been ready to let himself be sealed into the Millennium Puzzle, without a name or the hope of life everlasting. The gods had been merciful. They'd lent their might to his cause instead; had rewarded his piety without requiring his sacrifice. He'd won.

"Pharaoh?" Set asked.

Atem turned to face Set. Shadi and Kalim were worried, silent sentinels at Set's side.

Atem smiled at them reassuringly. He nudged his horse to start moving again. He breathed in the spring air, trying not to miss the absence of Mahad at his side.

Atem was in a white linen tunic. A purple cape swung from his shoulders, held in place with gold fastenings. Gold bounded the blue belt around his waist, threaded his sandals and gilded the tips of his hair. He patted the side of his white horse. He had an image to project to his people: the living embodiment of the peace and plenty they'd earned. He nodded as he progressed through the fields, as his people prostrated themselves before him. They stopped again to survey the area.

"We rounded up the last of the thief's accomplices and their families," Set said. "We need to make their execution sufficiently memorable, so no one will ever forget the power of the pharaoh."

Atem nodded. "I will think of a punishment that fits their crimes. I'm only sorry that the so-called Thief King died before we could execute him." As had Akunadin, but Atem left that thought unsaid. Whatever his father had been, Set had remained loyal, and in this instance, Atem didn't want to visit the sins of the father on his son.

It had been six months since the final battle, since getting the Eye and Ring back and uniting them to defeat Zorc and his armies. Tearing the Eye from Akunadin, using the Ring against Zorc, seeing the thief who had stolen it crumble to dust had restored something in both Atem and his kingdom.

"When the last evil-doers are dead, balance will finally be restored. We must prepare the proper sacrifices to the gods who have blessed us with victory," Kalim said solemnly.

"And then it will be time to look to the future. This was a war fought not only on these green lands before us, but on the battlefields of the mind and heart, as well. I would not leave any arena uncontested." Set turned from the orderly fields to view the vast desert, barely glimpsed in the background. "Is everything we see truly all there is? The future is as infinite as the sky above us. There are domains, not just in the physical world, but in the realms of the thought, left to conquer."

"You go too far, my friend. Would you intrude on the province of the gods? What of Ma'at's laws? What of order and balance?" Shadi chided.

"What of them?" Set shot back. "Logic and reason are the highest expressions of order, wherever they lead. This is my faith and I will hold to it. If I am proven wrong when I meet Ma'at at the end, so be it. I will not back down."

This was the part of Set that attracted and repelled Atem, in sometimes equal measure: this refusal to pause, to reflect, to bend, to be anything other than himself, even before the gods. His eagerness to assert blasphemy so devoutly, to offer it up to the gods themselves, even while renouncing any force beyond his own determination to know, to act, to win.

The sun fell towards the horizon, framing Set, lending him an unearthly glow, as if he'd been chosen and consecrated to the gods of persistence and will.

Then Set laughed at Shadi's outraged face, breaking the spell, rendering him all too human once again.

Shadi glanced from Atem to Set. A malicious grin stole across his face. "Soon it will be time, my liege, for your marriage, for a new generation to be born to continue the reign of the pharaohs."

"Strengthening Egypt through wise alliances will be one of the pleasures of peace," Atem said. He turned to Set with a sly smile. "I look forward to other, more familiar pleasures as well."

Set coughed and turned away, but not before Atem had caught his answering grin.

"To get back to the business at hand…" Set said.

"I thought I was," Atem said innocently.

Set flushed and glared at Atem, mouthing the word, "Later." He said aloud, "We should consider sending the army south, now that we don't have Zorc to contend with."

"The nations to our south have grown weak, ripe for conquest," Shadi agreed.

"We will wash over their lands as surely as the Nile floods each year. And just as with the inundation, everything we touch will prosper and grow, a tribute to the gods who have nourished us as we feed them." Set grinned at Shadi. "Is that enough in accordance with Ma'at's laws to satisfy you?"

Atem pursed his lips in thought. "There is much in what you say. The gods want us to be fruitful. They want our nation to grow strong again."

"And to crush our enemies beneath our feet," Shadi added.

Atem nodded again. He took one last look at his lands, green and blue, peaceful and prosperous, before heading back to his city.

Atem raised a hand to his head and swayed in his saddle. Set was instantly at his side, leaning across his own horse to bolster his pharaoh. Then Set was stricken as well. With a final effort, he pushed Atem upright before they both succumbed.

Atem gasped and stumbled back into limbo. He stared down at his feet, dazed, wondering where the horse he'd been riding had gone. Atem took a second stumbling step forward and then righted himself, suddenly remembering where he was… and who he was. Atem gazed at the ancient town in the distance, glimmering, an impossible dream of a city. He wrenched his gaze back to Kaiba, who was still at his side. "Did you see that too?"

"Through alien eyes," Kaiba answered.

"It was… unexpected."

"Agreed." Kaiba paused and tilted his head to the side. "Were you flirting with me out there?"

"Really? That's what you noticed?" Atem smirked. "You didn't seem to mind."

"You mean he didn't."

"What about you?"

Kaiba rolled his eyes. "You must be really bored."

"I've been so many things around you: frustrated… puzzled… furious… even proud. Boredom has never been an option."

Kaiba ducked his head. He cleared his throat.

Atem laughed, enjoying the faint band of pink that washed across Kaiba's cheekbones, as the puffy flowers surrounding them blinked a matching color before both face and petals returned to their accustomed paleness. Atem suddenly realized what Kaiba had admitted. "Wait! You understood us!"

Kaiba shrugged. "I can read hieroglyphics. It makes sense I'd understand the spoken language as well."

"You can read hieroglyphics? You always acted like Yugi and I were delusional any time we brought it up. When were you planning on getting around to telling me?"

"Around the same time you were planning on telling me you were leaving for good… oh wait, that's never."

Kaiba turned his gaze from Atem, as if he'd looked too long into the sun. He'd craved Atem's undivided attention; he'd wanted those blood-wine eyes trained on him, as intent as in a duel. He'd wanted to be the only thing in Atem's line of sight.

Now he was.

And the price had been Mokuba and everything else.

Kaiba wanted to blame Atem.

But he couldn't, not when he'd been the one who'd grabbed Atem's arm and propelled them straight into limbo.

Kaiba wanted to blame Atem for existing, for always being just out or reach, no matter how fast Kaiba had run, for not picking up on the signals Kaiba had never sent, for backing out of the friendship Kaiba had never offered, for calling them equals when it could only be pity… for every shriveled, unexpressed, unacknowledged hope or dream or expectation Kaiba had ever pinned to Atem's shoulders like a second cape. Kaiba wanted to blame Atem for the pathetic mess of emotions surging through him, outside of his control, just like everything else.

"In world after world, we've wound up together. It has to mean something," Atem said, shattering the silence between them, oblivious of its formation.

"You've conveniently forgotten the world where I was dead," Kaiba snapped.

"I'll never forget that!" Atem shot back just as fiercely.

Atem turned from Kaiba to stare at the ancient city an unreachable distance away. "I was trying to turn myself into the person we just saw. I thought it was my final obligation, my final obedience to destiny. It wasn't an easy decision, especially since I had to keep all my doubts from Yugi. I didn't want to burden him with my regrets. He had enough of his own." Atem sighed. "And I knew if I told you, you wouldn't wave goodbye quietly from the sidelines. I knew you'd…" Atem chuckled and gestured to the clouds, to the city in the distance, "... you'd do something like this."

"I found out I could read hieroglyphics on the Battle Blimp when I read Ra's special power. It's how I knew to give you Devil's Sanctuary," Kaiba said in response, ceding answer for answer.

"Friendship was in the cards, and yours ended up having possibilities. You were trying to save my life. The battle against Lumos and Umbra, getting me to stand up to Malik's mime… it's almost like you're making a habit of it."

Kaiba smirked. "Don't make a habit of expecting it."

Atem's smile faded as quickly as the flowers surrounding them. "I was alive though – in that reality – in a way I've never been since. To see a world where I'd never been sealed in the Puzzle. A world where I was free to live my life. And yet…"

Kaiba grunted softly. The sound purred in Atem's ears.

"And yet, I was still trapped, anyway… by ritual, by role, by my own responsibilities."

"As long as they're your convictions as well. Commitment is part of life. It's up to us to decide which obligations to carry, which to glory in."

Atem nodded slowly. "My duty to my people was set at birth. But I was the one who chose to honor it; I was the one who chose to give Yugi a chance at freedom and independence, no matter the cost." Atem paused, knowing and accepting that his next words were a confession. "At the Ceremonial Duel… I desperately wanted to stay, but at the same time, for the first time, I was afraid of winning. What would happen when Yugi…" Atem's voice broke, "... when Yugi died? Would the Puzzle have fallen to pieces? Would I have returned to that formless existence, unaware of everything, even the passage of time? A limbo worse than this: where I was alone but lacked the consciousness to be lonely? Or would I have been passed from caretaker to caretaker, if any remembered, if any wanted me?"

"I would," Kaiba said hoarsely. He shrugged, as if he could shuffle the weight from his words, like shedding cards from a deck. "I hear your voice in my head, anyway."

"You do realize you'll die one day as well?"

"I'd have figured something out by then. I'll always figure something out."

"You make it easy to believe."

Kaiba smiled, suddenly lighter. He looked away. For as long as Kaiba could remember, anger had fueled him, had pumped through his veins, as necessary as blood, had rocketed through his system, spurring him to greater heights. He'd needed someone to hate, to measure himself against, to defy, to defeat, as surely as he'd needed oxygen to breathe. But despite how easily Atem could arouse his ire, Kaiba's rage was tainted now: by desire, by the unexpected ties of friendship, by the duelists' bond that ran through everything they were and did.

And yet, the rage was still there, coiled and waiting. Kaiba breathed in, then exhaled slowly, recognizing the pause before it began a new hunt.

Kaiba scanned the technicolor vistas in the background, the relentlessly unfamiliar constellations overhead, the impossibly bright sun that still somehow allowed the stars to shine. He aimed his gaze on the endless rows of flowers in front of him. They were barely holding their shape, an illusion of solidity in a formless world, taunting him with a petal soft prison.

Kaiba grinned. He needed an enemy and this world was a worthy foe. His grin sharpened to a knife-edge as he caressed his Duel Disk. He'd even found his weapon.

Kaiba sat down and opened the back of his Duel Disk. He paused and glanced up at Atem, his attention caught by the tension in his rival's stance. Atem was staring into the distance, but Kaiba was willing to bet he was looking inward as well. "What?"

"Maybe this isn't the mission you think it is – one of science and logic and technology, the story of an indifferent and random universe. Maybe Horakhty is sending us in and out of these worlds…" Atem shivered and continued, "...fraught as they are, for a reason. Maybe it's a gift, a chance for us to learn."

Kaiba hunched a shoulder. "Learn what? We know that the physical laws of our world don't fully apply here. Look at the way the flowers and the sky and the settings in the distance keep changing. It's equally likely that Horakhty is another facet of this place, an illusion created by the electrical impulses of our own brains, manifesting our doubts and fears…" Kaiba paused, "...and even our need for someone to make it all better."

"Are you saying we're talking to ourselves?"

Kaiba shrugged. "Maybe. Why do you need Horakhty to be real?"

"Because then we're not alone!" Atem shouted. He controlled the impulse to grab the exposed components of Kaiba's Duel Disk, toss them into the air and let them rain down like a hailstorm. "Because then we'd have someone cheering us on. I don't know what's real anymore, so I'm picking the more hopeful choice. Why do you need her to be fake?"

Kaiba closed the cover of his Duel Disk and stood up. He slipped it back on his arm. "Because I can't afford to believe in benevolent deities and magical rescues. Because I have to believe that we have everything we need right here…" Kaiba reached out, laying a hand on Atem's chest, "inside ourselves."

Atem trapped Kaiba's hand against his heart. Kaiba's hand trembled and then lay flat and acquiescent in Atem's hold. Atem smiled. "Opposite sides of the same coin."

Kaiba flinched. Atem gripped harder. Kaiba surrendered, soothed by the beat of Atem's heart under his hand, by the reminder Atem was here with him, by the promise implicit in Atem's hold. His breathing hitched.

"But they are the same coin," Atem whispered.

"That guy we met… he wasn't you," Kaiba said hoarsely. "He was a vision of someone you could have been if you didn't grow into the person you are, if you'd never had all your ideas and beliefs challenged, thrown in the air like random pieces of a model you were forced to rebuild from scratch without blueprints." Kaiba's shoulders tensed. He fought off the impulse to cross his arms in front of his chest, to seal off his body. He wasn't used to giving comfort, wasn't sure Atem was asking for it. He relaxed at Atem's flickering candle of a smile. He slipped his hand out of Atem's hold, giving in to the impulse to caress Atem's face, to trail down the column of his neck, to use his thumb to stroke the furrow created by Atem's collarbones. Kaiba smiled down at Atem and raised his hands to tangle in Atem's hair.

Atem's sudden intake of breath was the loudest thing in their suddenly silent world. "That wasn't me," Atem repeated. "Or rather, it was a me who'd never met Yugi or you or any of my friends. I had no chance to learn from them… to ask whether my punishments were just or whether justice should be my only aim… to ask myself who I was besides the pharaoh. That Atem would have walked to the after-life without a pause." He laughed bitterly. "Maybe I'm more like him than I want to admit."

"You think you have everything figured out, yourself most of all. You have all the platitudes ready to hand, like a surgeon and his scalpel. Trust no one. Losing is death. Then, some asshole comes along, you lose a duel, and it turns out your foundation was set in quicksand instead of stone." Kaiba shrugged. "And all you can do is start over and rebuild, stronger than ever. That was true in Domino… or in Egypt… and it's just as true here. I'm going to work with what we've got: our minds and our Duel Disks. Everything Horakhty said, minus the over-wrought mumbo jumbo, was cutting edge science. Some alternative worlds theories posit that there must be places in our world where the boundaries between dimensions are thinner, potential access points. Maybe we crashed through one and ended up, not in another dimension, but in a junction point between dimensions. In theory we should be able to access multiple realities – including our own."

Atem stared at Kaiba, enchanted by his determination to hack his way out of limbo. Just as in that ancient world, while Kaiba had been talking, the sun had set, haloing Kaiba in an orange glow, as if in every reality, the cosmos itself recognized his unwavering will as a force to be reckoned with.

It was seductive.

Atem leaned forward, resting his head against Kaiba's chest, speaking into the slight valley between his pectoral muscles. "Tell me a story about your Duel Disk and how it will save the day,"

Kaiba tilted Atem's face upwards and searched for signs of mockery. "You have no idea what their limits are. Neither do I. But I'm going to find out."

"And I'm going to believe in their potential," Atem said.

Kaiba groaned. "Do you have to turn everything into an inspirational cheer?"

"Yes," Atem answered with unparalleled smugness.

Kaiba cleared his throat. "I've been working on a modified Duel Disk." He nodded towards the disk on his arm, then realized Atem couldn't see the gesture with his head buried against Kaiba's chest. "I'm wearing a prototype. It's powered by the energy of our own brainwaves."

"What?"

"Our brains produce electricity. I'd already modified the Duel Disks to use it as a conventional energy source. That's why you don't need batteries. But as I researched further, the power of our shared consciousness has the potential to open doorways to other dimensions. All I have to do is figure out how to harness the power in our brains to open a portal back home using our Duel Disks as the conduit. Luckily you still have your Duel Disk and I've brought along a second conversion kit. I can upgrade it now."

Kaiba groaned as Atem moved back to comply. His hands felt empty without Atem's hair.

Atem drew in a breath and slipped off his Duel Disk. He presented it to Kaiba as an offering. His arm felt heavier for its loss.

Kaiba grunted as he worked. He finished, closed the casing and handed it back. "Once I've worked out the glitches in my system, you won't even have to put cards into it."

"But I like the feel of the cards!" Atem protested.

"When I complete my new system, if you know your deck, if you can see it in your mind and hold it there, that's all you need. It's the next evolution in dueling. There's nothing more… intimate." Kaiba snapped his lips shut, pressing them into a thin line. He'd planned on dueling Atem with his system once he'd perfected it. He'd wanted to unveil it with a flourish, he'd wanted to amaze Atem.

"Kaiba?" Atem said, turning his name into a question – or an invitation.

Kaiba shook his head. He'd thought a lot of things. He'd thought he had time; he'd thought Atem would wait. But the heart of the cards had never applied when it was his heart on the table. Kaiba looked off into the distance, somewhere over Atem's shoulder, hearing Atem say, "I didn't invite you; I didn't want you there." Kaiba scowled. "Nothing. It's not important."

"Everything's important," Atem said, moving forward to lean against Kaiba again, to hold onto the one real thing he had in a shape-shifting world. Atem breathed in the scent of the peach and yellow flowers surrounding them. They were tall, now, as if they wanted to embrace them as well. "You're important. And so am I, just as I am. Whether it's because of my own brain churning the thoughts I've kept hidden to the surface or due to Horakhty's help, I've learned something here. I'm not that Atem, not any longer."

Atem put his arm around Kaiba's waist and tugged him to the ground. They sat side by side and watched the comets streaking across the night sky in their own private light show. Atem could remember sitting like this, in his courtyard, watching the stars with his high priest. Set had known the constellations by name. Atem sighed, mourning the comrades he'd moved beyond… the ancient friends that he would never be so in sync with, again.

Atem closed his eyes.

Each transition before had been jarring. This was as gentle as falling asleep after a long and tiring day.

Atem opened his eyes. He was back in the Kame Game shop, but it wasn't the one he remembered. The walls were a bright yellow. He didn't recognize any of the anime characters decorating them. He tried to catalog the differences, knowing they'd all slip through his fingers despite his best efforts. Frighteningly, he was getting used to flowing in and out of different worlds, different lives.

Atem blinked again and breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever strange vision he'd been having, while cloistered in his soul room – one of unrecoverable worlds and imaginary flowers – now, he was back where he belonged, as Yugi's invisible other self.

Atem started to smile at his partner, but his effort stalled halfway across his face. Why had he expected Yugi to be a teenager? It had been well over a decade since the Ceremonial Duel, since their partnership as spirit and host had been sealed for eternity.

.

Thanks to Bnomiko for betaing this chapter!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The Atem we see in the Memory World arc is the Atem who has come to know Yugi, Kaiba and the crew, and who has been deeply influenced by them. Atem couldn't have won the Memory World arc without having learned about friendship and to temper judgment with mercy. When thinking about what an Atem who had not had that experience would be like, I thought of the Atem who first emerges from the Puzzle, and how he was solely concerned with judgment and punishment. This matches what we see of his court. One thing I think is constant with Atem is that he is someone who will always do what he thinks is right, regardless of personal consequences, but I think his definition of "right" might have been different before he met Yugi.

Stay safe everyone!

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