CHAPTER 22: THE WHO'S ON FIRST CLICHÉ

CHAPTER 22: THE WHO'S ON FIRST CLICHÉ: Abbott and Costello named this cliché with a comedy routine about a baseball team whose players were named, Who, What and I Don't Know, leading to exchanges like this:

Costello: Well then who's on first?

Abbott: Yes.

Costello: I mean the fellow's name.

Abbott: Who.

Costello: The guy on first.

Abbott: Who is on first.

Costello: Why are you asking me?

Costello: When you pay off the first baseman every month, who gets the money?

Abbott: Every dollar of it. And why not? He's entitled to it. Sometimes his wife collects it.

Costello: All I'm trying to find out is what's the guy's name on first base.

Abbott: No. What is on second base.

Costello: I'm not asking you who's on second.

Abbott: Who's on first.

Costello: I don't know!

Abbott: He's on third base.

The routine runs on a continuous reel at the Baseball Hall of Fame, and Costello is stamping on his hat before the matter ever gets cleared up.

MORAL: Maybe it's not surprising that the routine was popular enough to give its name to an entire trope. Even without oddly named baseball players to add to the confusion, a continuous, cascading misunderstanding is something we can all relate to.

Kaiba awoke slowly. He opened one eye, then closed it, before letting his lids drift open again. He sighed; his breath ruffled the tips of Atem's hair. Kaiba felt weak, as though he'd been ill and had, for once, been allowed to rest. The memory of his duel tiptoed in, unsure of its welcome. He wanted to spring out of bed, to run as far as he could, but Atem was sprawled across his torso, grounding him; Atem's hair was tickling Kaiba's jaw and chin.

The room was still light. It was hard to believe it was only the afternoon – that a couple of hours, not days or eons – had passed since he'd faced Atem in his dueling arena, so sure of his victory. He'd planned the duel for Sunday, so he'd have the rest of the day to celebrate.

Kaiba glanced at the stained glass dragons guarding their bed. His gaze followed his philodendron as it wound its way around the room, before returning to the window. The afternoon sun was filtering in. His vision blurred. The light turned harsher. Gozaburo was silhouetted against Kaiba Corporation's boardroom windows. "Remember this, Seto. This is the punishment for losing."

"I will remember your words," Kaiba whispered.

He'd remembered them so well, he'd been dead from the second Gozaburo had jumped until the moment when he'd woken up from the aftermath of Death-T with his rival's name on his lips. He'd remembered so well, he'd never been able to erase the fear that despite his efforts, his life – like Gozaburo's – would be another loss, another waste.

Kaiba drew in a breath. Atem had said that he loved him.

It was everything he wanted from the future.

It should have been enough.

But it had been handed to him so suddenly, in his weakest moment. He wanted to wake up Atem and scream, "How could you do that? How can I believe when I haven't struggled and schemed to make it happen?" But he was content to stay anchored in their bed; he'd be set adrift soon enough, once their day began.

Kaiba felt helpless in a way he hadn't, not even under Gozaburo… not since his father had come home from the hospital to tell him that his mother was dead, that he was a brother. He frowned, getting more agitated with each succeeding thought, holding still by force of will, not ready to face Atem's blood dark eyes.

He forced his muscles to relax, grateful when they obeyed. After everything, was he going to let Gozaburo win? But his fears – that he wasn't enough, that no one would care – predated his adoptive father. He closed his eyes and felt the rain fall on his face as he'd stared at the orphanage doors. He'd refused to cry. His face had been wet anyway. The heavy brick building had blocked out the sun. The doors had risen grim and forbidding. He'd grabbed Mokuba's hand, ready to be brave for both of them. Gozaburo had been the final nail, but he hadn't built the coffin.

Kaiba scanned the glass and metal dragons guarding his bedroom, wishing he'd created a hologram so they could hover overhead. He was never going to be able to relax and let the future come to him, no matter how many people told him to, even if it was what Atem had urged.

But Atem wanted him, not some easy going, imitation Seto.

Atem loved him.

He'd said so.

And Kaiba hadn't done anything to earn it but lose.

He didn't understand. Ignorance was dangerous, but he was willing to throw his life chip on the table: his hope of safety lay in Atem, in believing that the man who'd walked to his death without giving him a backwards glance, would choose to walk beside him instead.

Atem shifted, snuggled closer, then opened his eyes. He smiled blearily at Kaiba.

"I don't understand," Kaiba repeated aloud.

"What?"

"Anything."

Atem grinned. "That makes two of us. I feel like I'm driving a chariot with three runaway horses: what you think, what Yugi thinks, and I'm the horse in the middle getting tripped on either side."

"Why are you listening to Yugi?" Kaiba scowled. This was not how he wanted the conversation to go.

"Because we shared more than a body. My voice was his, his thoughts filtered through my consciousness. I can't pretend that those years, that merging, never happened – and I don't want to, any more than I'll ever forget our time in limbo or all that we shared."

Kaiba grunted, appeased enough to stop arguing. But Atem's words from earlier in the afternoon pecked at him. "You love me, huh?"

"Yes."

"Even though nothing's gone like I planned and I still haven't beaten you in a duel?" Kaiba threw out the words flippantly, as though the question and answer had no value.

Atem smiled and kissed the tip of Kaiba's nose. "I certainly didn't plan on any of this."

Kaiba remained brittle all week. His efforts to carry on as if his life hadn't just been upended revealed the vulnerability he instinctively tried to hide. Atem and Mokuba pretended they didn't notice. The main change was at night. Kaiba had mastered ferocity and even passion. Now he wanted something different. He wanted to be gentle, he wanted to be loving. He didn't know how.

Atem watched and waited as Kaiba slowly righted himself, marveling at his rival's resilience. Atem had been a pharaoh. He'd been Yugi's Other Me and Kaiba's rival. But who was he when he was by himself? He'd cut back on his morning visits to the Kame Game shop and met with the gang less. Sugoroku had laughed and said, "Ho ho ho, young blood. Say no more!" Atem had been glad to obey since he had no idea what Sugoroku was talking about.

He was once again doing nothing, but it was a different kind of nothing. He walked through the city every day, exploring the places neither Yugi nor Kaiba had ever taken him. It didn't matter if the neighborhood was interesting. It was new. He studied each area as if he was an anthropologist on a field trip, doodling his impressions in a notebook he'd picked up at a craft fair, just as he'd once recorded his stolen outings with Mana on papyrus.

From the moment of their return, Kaiba had made a point of encouraging Atem to choose, even in small things, but Atem realized for the first time how curated those choices had been. Atem had picked out his wardrobe, Kaiba had selected the district to shop in. As Atem wandered the city, he discovered flower stalls and farmers' markets. He shopped at thrift shores and souvenir stands. He carried cash, erasing the need for a record much more easily that his name had been chipped off of monuments and buildings and statues after his disappearance into the Puzzle.

Atem still stopped by Kaiba Corporation in the afternoon, usually with lunch he'd bought from some hole in the wall place he'd discovered or a sample of the more original vending machine offerings.

Kaiba looked up as Atem entered his office. He eyed the package in Atem's hands. "Let me know if you ever find a vending machine that has filet mignon."

"I promise," Atem said, wondering if it was a joke or if he should look for one on his next outing.

Kaiba took a second, hungrier look at Atem. His rival was in a blue suede cropped tuxedo jacket with black leather lapels, paired with black pants. His cheap T-shirt had a picture of a white and yellow box with blue lettering that said "Domino Sugar" in English. The tagline: "Make it even sweeter," ran below the box. The bottom of the shirt had been cut into ribbons that fluttered and swayed with every step. Kaiba's gaze narrowed, teased by the glimpse of Atem's torso revealed with each movement.

"Do you even know what the shirt says?" Kaiba asked.

"The vendor said it's an advertisement for the city. It says 'Domino,'" Atem said, pointing to the large blue writing.

Kaiba laughed. "It says, 'Domino sugar.' You do look good enough to eat, though." He got up and walked over to Atem. "And I can't say I mind the view." He started to rip at the ends of Atem's shirt.

"Stop that!"

"It's a crappy T-shirt. It's already torn to shreds. Buy another."

"It's mine!"

"Fine!" Kaiba snapped, backing off. He retreated to his desk. He scowled into space for a moment. "You're right." he declared. "It's a crappy T-shirt, but it's your crappy T-Shirt."

"See how easy it is to agree?" Atem said. He walked over to Kaiba, put their lunch on his desk and spun Kaiba's chair so they were facing each other. "Now, this is a view I enjoy," he murmured, looking down at Kaiba. He sat down slowly, straddling Kaiba's legs, leaned in and kissed him.

Kaiba tugged at a stray ribbon. Atem smacked his hand. "You're incorrigible."

"It's my best quality," Kaiba said, pulling Atem's head to his for another kiss. "You love me, huh?" he repeated when Atem lifted his head.

"I don't know if you're insatiable or looking for reassurance, but I'm happy to provide either," Atem said as he bent to kiss Kaiba again, reaching for his shirt.

Atem headed over to meet Yugi and the gang at Burger World. Anzu was the only one missing. She had a rehearsal for her dance school's upcoming recital. Atem accompanied Yugi to her school, suddenly aware that it was the first time he'd seen Yugi alone in days. He wondered if he should apologize, but when they reached a red light, Yugi turned to him and said, "I'm sorry. When you moved in with Kaiba and spent weekends with him and stuff, instead of with me, I felt left out. I got upset, like you'd done something wrong. Now that I'm with Anzu… I'd spend every moment with her if I could, and when I'm not with her, I'm thinking of her. I get what love is now."

Atem was glad the light changed because he had no idea what to say next. He was learning to treasure his time without Kaiba. Yugi's simple confidence had Atem momentarily doubting everything he thought he'd learned. What did he know about being in love? He had only his thoughts and feelings to go on – and the words he declared every day that Kaiba had never repeated back. He shook off his doubts, clinging to limbo's echo, straining to hear the faint voice reminding him there were infinite right answers.

"I'm going to the museum tomorrow," Atem announced, when they'd walked half a block in silence. "Isis arrived yesterday and she asked me to help set up the exhibit of the items from the Ceremonial Duel site and from my life! Everything is still in crates. I'm going to be there from the beginning!"

"That's awesome!" Yugi scrunched his nose. "A little weird, but awesome! Kaiba must be excited too. You went to a world where he got to see his former self. He has to admit it's real. I'd be so curious. Can you imagine if Anzu was some kind of ancient queen? I mean, just look at her, the way she moves and stands up so straight. And her eyes flash when she's mad… she could totally be some kind of old time goddess."

Atem breathed in sharply. His shoulders hunched together. The last thing he wanted was more worlds to deal with; he was having enough trouble managing the one he'd chosen – unlike some people he could name who'd been willing to trample this life in their haste to force an imaginary one into being.

Atem frowned at Yugi's cheerfully oblivious face. He sighed. His shoulders relaxed. It wasn't Yugi's fault that the thought of one more world, one more option, made Atem feel like he'd just been pushed into the morass he'd spent the week climbing his way out of. It wasn't Yugi's fault that he knew his name was Atem, but was still discovering who Atem was. And it wasn't Yugi's fault that every word reminded him of the jackass he'd fallen in love with, or that, even for a moment, he'd doubted that love.

It wasn't his fault either. Kaiba's ability to anger him was the one constant on world after world, a throughline as deep as their rival's bond… the way he always ran headlong in the wrong direction, ignoring all attempts to stop him, refusing to listen as he crashed into and through wall after wall, needing to be stunned to finally stop and think. Kaiba hadn't forgiven the way they'd hurt each other. Instead, he'd simply dismissed the past – and his own feelings – as unimportant until they were suddenly the most crucial thing in the world, and he was grabbing Atem's arm, propelling them into the unknown.

Yugi looked at Anzu and saw perfection. Atem couldn't argue. Kaiba's faults were all too glaringly apparent, but through some strange alchemy, they were a part of Kaiba and therefore precious. Atem shook his head, smiling.

He hugged Yugi when they reached Anzu's school and headed home. He could have used the app on his phone to call for a limo, but he'd never gotten used to being driven by people he didn't know. Besides, he could use the walk – and the time alone – so he could do full justice to the list of Kaiba's imperfections.

Kaiba drove him to the museum early the next morning.

"Thank you," Atem said.

Kaiba shrugged. "It's not a big deal. You've been hyped about it all week."

Atem nodded. He hesitated before getting out.

"What?" Kaiba said.

"I never asked if you wanted to come today," Atem said, not sure what answer he wanted.

"Why would you ask me to watch a bunch of crates being unpacked?" Kaiba said.

"I don't know." Atem bit the inside of his lip. He didn't know why he'd brought it up, except that it was what Yugi would have done. He grimaced. That wasn't good enough, not anymore.

Kaiba shrugged. "Up to you. I don't mind wasting the morning, as long as you promise to tell Isis she knows even less about the past than the future."

Atem imagined Kaiba trailing behind him, bickering with Isis, or worse, bored out of his mind and on his phone. Besides, now that the question was in the air, now that he'd raised it, the exhibit felt private. The world was going to see it, but this moment was his. He sighed.

Kaiba frowned. Should he go? Was that what those other, happier selves would have done? He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He'd run down that road before; it led to a dead end every time. "There's nothing to sigh over," Kaiba said. "I don't care either way."

Atem sighed again. Should Kaiba want to come, the way Yugi wanted to go to the ballet? Should Atem want Kaiba to want to come? He closed his eyes. His head hurt. "Like you said, everything's still in boxes." Yugi would have summoned up a smile. Atem settled for adding, "And besides, it's not exactly your thing."

Kaiba shrugged. "I wouldn't be turning cartwheels if someone wanted to recreate the orphanage dorm and invited me to see it and help get the details right."

"This isn't the same! It's all I have left of my past, of my family and friends!"

"Why hold on to it? You turned that world down for a future here in this one."

"Yes. But I'm born of that world! Besides, it's your past, too. You saw that for yourself when we were in limbo. You were by my side, my high priest."

"He's not me! He'll never be me."

"None of them are truly us," Atem reminded Kaiba.

"Him even more than the rest," Kaiba grumbled. He paused, unsure of how they'd walked up to the edge of a fight neither of them wanted. He glanced at Atem. "I'm glad you decided to stay."

Atem smiled. "Me too." Atem knew it was his cue to leave. He leaned back against the seat instead. "But I can't go through this life pretending the previous one never existed."

"Did I ask you to?" Kaiba shot back. "You invited all your friends to the Ceremonial Duel. It's the place where you were ready to walk away from me. So yeah, not exactly my favorite spot. I saw it once and that was enough."

"Is that truly how you see it? Is that all you see?"

"What else is there?" Kaiba held his breath. This was Atem. Chances were, there was something more.

"It's not just a point of departure, it's the place of our return, the place where we got a second chance at living."

Kaiba's eyes widened, just as they did whenever Atem turned over a winning card. "Is that true?" he asked.

Atem wanted to leave it at a simple "yes," but he couldn't. "It's also the place that connects the two halves of my life."

As far as Kaiba was concerned, the disparate pieces of his life could stay separate, the chains binding them broken, holding his past at bay, shorn of its full power to wound. He winced, remembering that Mokuba had once asked if he wanted to forget the good times as well. He'd sneered and told Mokuba, "There were no good times." He'd watched Mokuba's face fall and had felt nothing beyond an angry satisfaction.

Kaiba drew in a breath and nodded at Atem. "I get that. Have fun uncrating your past." He leaned across to kiss Atem. "Call and I'll swing by when you're ready to blow this place."

"And blow something else instead?" Atem asked as he got out of the car.

Kaiba grinned and drove away but his smile faded before he reached the end of the block. He had no idea how their conversation had gone sideways so quickly and ignorance was the first step towards helplessness and failure. He slammed his foot on the gas pedal. The car shot forward, unable to outpace his thoughts. He was tired of spinning out of control, chasing a future that belonged to someone else, ignoring all the things he could do today, right now, to hold onto what he had.

Atem loved him.

Mokuba was his brother.

He thought of the world where Mokuba had wanted to go to college. The clues were in his hands, collected during all the lives he'd seen. He had to talk. He had to ask questions. He had to listen to the answers. Each step was so small, it seemed insignificant; added together they built a staircase daunting in its steepness. He'd hacked his way out of limbo. His task now was simpler and more difficult: he had to learn, he had to live, he had to try. The only prophecies he believed in were self-fulfilling ones and his worst weren't going to come true, not if he had anything to say about it.

He'd been heading downtown. He abruptly turned his car, barked some orders into his phone and raced for home. He had time to pick up Mokuba and take him to school. He pulled into the round driveway in front of the mansion. Mokuba ran out. But once he was settled in the car, they sat there for a moment.

"Nisama… you've been different all week… what really happened… you know… with the duel?" Mokuba asked.

Kaiba turned off the ignition and leaned his head against his hands on the steering wheel. "You know what happened. I lost."

"You'll come up with a better strategy and try again and this time, you'll win!"

Kaiba reached for the ignition but stopped himself before he turned the key and groaned. He had to talk. "That's the easy answer. That's the one I've told myself for years. But it's not about strategy. I could have won this duel. I misread the cards. I thought they were pointing the way to the future we'd seen. I tried to take the quick and easy road, like I had a shortcut to the future. I should have known better. The trap card I fell into was one of my own making."

"Then you need to come up with a better future! That one doesn't sound so hot to me." Mokuba paused, then added softly, so his brother could ignore his question if he needed to. "In this perfect world, were you the one working overtime to make it happen?"

Kaiba bit his lip. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "The last three worlds… we were together… we were happy. But I don't know if…"

"If it was all built on you chasing after him?"

Kaiba looked down and nodded.

"Is that really what you want, Niisama?"

Kaiba frowned. If it kept Atem in his life, he suspected the answer was, "Yes." A glance at Mokuba's face told him that Mokuba, at least, would consider that the wrong choice. Kaiba sighed in place of answering. "I went to the afterlife to get him. More than once."

"I'm glad you didn't do that, here. That would have been even scarier. See, this world sounds better, already."

"On one world, I brought him back, just to watch him wither and die. Like a plant potted in the wrong soil." He shook his head. "I just don't get it."

"What?" Mokuba asked.

"What it's like to be enough."

"You've always been enough! You're everything!" Mokuba said fiercely.

"Atem said that, too," Kaiba acknowledged.

"What more do you want?"

"I want to believe it with every fiber of my being. I want to relax and accept it." Kaiba stared straight ahead. His hands gripped the steering wheel. He had to talk. "This isn't just about Atem. I haven't told you the worst yet, about those other worlds."

Mokuba's eyes widened. What could be worse than having to move out of the mansion and marry some creepy, strange woman? Just thinking about it made him cringe.

"I don't want to lose you," Kaiba admitted. He stared straight ahead. There. It was out.

"You won't!"

"But I did. More than once. It was my fault. I was so busy with what I wanted, I didn't notice we were drifting apart, not until it was too late."

"That's not going to happen." Mokuba launched himself across the seat to hug his brother.

Kaiba smoothed Mokuba's hair. "Not if I can help it."

Mokuba looked up. "There were worlds we stayed together too. You told me about them." It was as close as he could come to begging for reassurance.

Kaiba nodded. "Those were the best worlds. I want to be that brother, the one who knows what to say, how to ask."

"You are!"

"No, I'm not. Not yet."

"Then we'll get there together."

Kaiba smiled and started the car. Mokuba slid back into his seat. Kaiba didn't want to drop Mokuba off at school, like nothing had changed, even though that's precisely what he wanted to celebrate: that nothing had changed between them. He turned to his brother. It was a small question, but he wanted to ask. "I'll send a note to your school. How about we go do a surprise spot inspection of the rides and arcade at KaibaLand?"

Isis met Atem at the door to the museum. She watched as Kaiba's car sped off down the block, a dragon in flight. "He didn't accompany you?"

Atem smiled ruefully. "He said he'd seen it before."

"And paid for quite a bit of the excavation, afterwards. But I can think of one remnant of the past he's very interested in."

Atem laughed. "Thank you."

Isis chuckled. "Two remnants, then."

Atem titled his head. "I don't understand."

"There are perks to not knowing the future. You have so many surprises in store."

Atem frowned at the subtle shift in their conversation; Isis was teasing him.

Isis left him to walk through the rooms by himself. Most of the artifacts were still in their crates. That's all they were now: relics from an unreachable past. He could name each item meant to go with him to the afterlife, to accompany him throughout eternity, but an essential connection was missing. They were no longer his in the way they had been before; time had worn them into something else. He read the inventory list: bas reliefs of scenes from his childhood, portraits of friends that were long dust.

He didn't know what to feel, he didn't even know how to feel. He was disconnected from his past, clueless about his future, uncertain how to merge the two, marooned on his own atoll in time. Yugi would have come if he'd asked, Kaiba had even offered to join him, after a fashion. But Atem hadn't wanted a sacrifice on the altar of friendship. He'd thought he'd needed a moment alone with his past, only to discover that he wanted the companionship of the living as well.

Atem walked through the room, unseeing. He'd thought he'd learned everything he needed to know about himself – about establishing a life – in limbo, only to find he hadn't had a clue. Limbo had been easy. It was living that was hard. He hadn't realized Kaiba still held so much bitterness about the Ceremonial Duel; Kaiba hadn't known Atem thought of it as a beginning to their story as well as an attempted end. He shook his head and tried to refocus his attention on the crates and inventory lists before giving up with a wry smile. It was fitting that the present intruded on the past, even here.

He looked up at the sound of Isis' footsteps as she rejoined him.

"This day was for me, wasn't it?" Atem asked. "So I could get used to seeing the familiar items from my life like this, as artifacts instead of a cup or a pair of earrings… so I could confront the two halves of my life, together, in the same place."

"I do want your help. It's your story. I want to tell it properly. But yes, this day was for you. You gave me freedom. You gave me my brothers. All I had to offer was a moment of privacy. I haven't seen you since the day you left for Domino, but I've thought of you often. How are you?"

"Great. I'm learning so much… how to live, mostly, and I'm grateful." He paused. "But I'd be lying if I said there weren't days when I miss the sense of destiny guiding my actions, the certainty I'd left behind. But how can I mourn being given a life?"

"Because it's still a loss," Isis said. "Even when it's also a joy."

Atem smiled. "Yes, to both." He gestured around the room. "Thank you for letting me view this in private. Yugi solved the Puzzle. I wanted to put the final pieces of my life in place by myself. I don't know if I was wise or the reverse or even if it matters. It was today's decision." He smiled. "What do you have in store for me, tomorrow?"

Isis inclined her head in acquiescence and walked him through a description of the planned set-up. Atem promised to review the items and check the descriptions and summaries. He had a sudden vision of Isis, merging with her ancient incarnation, sailing a barge from the past into the present, while he followed, floating in the water, an Osiris who'd miraculously remained whole.

.

Thanks to Bnomiko for betaing this chapter!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Kaiba's favorite food is listed as filet mignon with foie gras sauce. I love that because it sounds like something Kaiba decided when he was ten because it sounded like something rich people would eat and he stuck to it out of stubbornness ever since. You actually can get a steak in a vending machine in Japan, although only in one or two places. But as far as I know, filet mignon is not included in the cuts of meat you can get.

I could see Atem returning from limbo very confident in who he was and what he'd learned, and then having that confidence chipped through the grinding business of making day to day decisions in a world that is, in many ways, new to him. One thing that has always fascinated me about Atem and Kaiba is the way questions of identity: how they are, who they could become, the role of the past in shaping them and how to react to the past, are so central to them both.

Stay safe everyone!

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