~Yugi is panicking as well. everyone is freaking out. I almost feel guilty -rubs hands together-~

Hospital waiting room.

Kaiba was pacing.

He wasn't the type to do so—he prided himself on control, on logic, on knowing all the angles before acting. But right now? Right now, logic had nothing to do with the sheer rage boiling beneath his skin.

Atem was in surgery. His condition was critical. He had collapsed at his company, in front of his employees, and Kaiba hadn't seen it coming fast enough to stop it.

And Yugi?

Yugi hadn't even noticed.

Kaiba's teeth ground together as the glass doors to the waiting room flew open.

Yugi staggered in, looking like a walking hurricane—eyes wide, chest rising and falling too fast, scent spiking with a chaotic mix of stress, panic, and something newly sharp and undeniable.

He'd presented. Of course he had. Because the universe just loved to make things more complicated.

Yugi barely made it two steps before Kaiba was on him.

"Where the hell have you been?"

The words snapped out before he could stop them, laced with too much anger, too much fear disguised as fury.

Yugi flinched. "I—I came as soon as I heard, I—"

"Don't give me that bullshit." Kaiba's voice was a low snarl. "You mean to tell me you didn't notice anything? Atem has been pregnant for months, Mutou. He's been carrying your child, and you—"

Yugi's breath hitched. He looked utterly wrecked, eyes darting toward the hallway leading to surgery. "My—what?"

Kaiba scoffed. "You really didn't know." The realization hit like a blow, and for a brief moment, the rage gave way to something else—something bitter and exasperated. "Unbelievable."

Yugi swayed on his feet. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "How—how bad is it?"

Kaiba's expression darkened. "Bad. His blood pressure was too high, and he collapsed in my fucking building. They had to rush him into surgery." His hands curled into fists. "They said stress caused it. You know what that tells me, Mutou?" His voice dropped into a lethal hiss. "It tells me that your bastard of a father has been making his life hell."

Yugi inhaled sharply, color draining from his face.

Kaiba didn't stop. "I knew something was wrong the second Atem came to me asking for work. But I thought—" He stopped himself, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter what I thought. The point is, you should have noticed first."

Yugi swallowed hard, fists trembling. "I didn't know." His voice cracked.

Kaiba exhaled harshly through his nose, forcing himself to take a step back. "Yeah, well. Now you do."

Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. The only sound was the distant beeping of monitors and the murmur of hospital staff beyond the doors.

Yugi's gaze locked onto the hallway. "Can I—can I see him?"

Kaiba hesitated. His anger hadn't burned out, not even close, but—dammit.

"Not yet." His voice was quieter now, strained but firm. "They're still in surgery."

Yugi nodded stiffly, then sank into the nearest chair like his legs had given out.

Kaiba watched him, crossing his arms tightly. He still wanted to yell at him, to shake him, to demand how the hell he could be so blind.

But right now, none of that would fix what was happening behind those doors.

So he exhaled sharply and turned away.

And they both waited.

The doors to the waiting room swung open again, and this time, it was Grandpa Mutou who walked in.

Yugi was on his feet before he even realized he'd moved. "Jii-chan?"

His grandfather's expression was tight with worry, but his eyes softened the moment they landed on Yugi. "Yugi, are you alright?"

Yugi barely heard him. His mind was still reeling, still trying to process the fact that Atem—Atem—was in surgery right now, carrying a child Yugi hadn't even known existed. But one thought managed to push through the haze.

"How did you know to come here?" His voice was hoarse, raw from everything crashing down at once.

Grandpa opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, Kaiba—still standing off to the side, arms crossed like a storm barely holding itself together—spoke first.

"I called the store looking for you."

Yugi's breath hitched.

Kaiba had called?

He turned toward the taller man, searching his face, but Kaiba's expression was unreadable—his usual cold detachment layered over the remnants of fury and exhaustion.

Grandpa sighed. "That's right. I picked up the phone." His gaze was sharp as it flickered between the two of them. "Kaiba told me everything."

Yugi swallowed hard. "Then you know."

His grandfather's shoulders sagged slightly. "Yes. I know." His voice was quiet but firm. "And I know you need to be strong right now."

That nearly broke him.

Yugi clenched his fists, trying to keep himself steady, trying not to drown in the sheer weight of everything.

Kaiba huffed. "For what it's worth, I didn't think you were completely useless."

Yugi looked up sharply, startled by the sudden admission.

Kaiba scowled. "If I did, I wouldn't have bothered calling at all."

It wasn't much.

But coming from Kaiba?

It was just enough to keep Yugi on his feet.

It feels like an eternity.

Yugi sits, then stands, then sits again. His legs are jittery, his heart hammering, but his body is beyond exhausted. The adrenaline that had fueled him this far is wearing off—fast. His hands tremble, and his breath is shallow, but none of that matters. Nothing matters until he knows Atem is okay.

When the doors finally open, Yugi stumbles to his feet so quickly that his vision blurs. A doctor steps inside, clipboard in hand, looking mildly surprised at the intensity of the three people waiting for him.

"Atem is stable," the doctor says, and Yugi swears he almost collapses in relief. "He's asleep right now. We're keeping him overnight for observation, but he made it through surgery just fine. He's just—" the doctor sighs, "completely exhausted. He needs rest, quiet, and a lot of sleep."

Yugi nods, his breath catching in his throat. Atem's okay.

He's okay.

The doctor isn't finished, though. "As for the baby, she's in the NICU since she was born a month premature. She's very small, but she's healthy. She'll need monitoring, but there's no immediate danger."

A baby girl.

Yugi doesn't have time to process it before the doctor turns to him. "Do you have a name picked out?"

Yugi freezes. "I—"

Wait. Wait.

His stomach drops. How does the doctor know to ask him that?

His thoughts scramble for answers, but there are none. Because up until two hours ago, he didn't even know Atem was pregnant.

Why is the doctor asking him like this is his child?!

His mouth opens and closes, words failing him entirely. His heartbeat thunders in his ears. His brain tries to play catch-up, but it's like sprinting through mud.

Seto—the absolute bastard—finds his reaction extremely funny. Yugi can see it in the barely restrained amusement twitching at the corners of his mouth.

Still, Seto is still too worried about Atem to outright laugh, so instead, he just smirks and deadpans, "It's got to be the hair. I pity the kid already."

Yugi chokes on air. "Kaiba!"

But before he can properly glare at him, Seto's expression sobers slightly, and he gestures toward the nearest chair.

"Sit the fuck down, Yugi." His voice is firm, almost irritated. "You look like you're about to pass out, and we don't need both halves of the set in the hospital."

Which, in all fairness—

He might actually be correct about that.

Still, Yugi turns an even deeper shade of red, sinking back down into the chair.

Grandpa, ever the calming presence, chuckles lightly before standing. "I want to see my granddaughter."

The words hit Yugi like a truck.

His granddaughter.

Before Yugi can recover from that one, a nurse approaches and nods to Grandpa Mutou. "Come with me, sir. I'll take you to see her."

And just like that, Jii-chan disappears down the hall, leaving Yugi sitting in stunned silence, still trying to process the fact that his entire life just changed forever.