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Mutou Masami did not know what to think when she met her son and father-in-law in Cairo. She had travelled from Japan with her husband, the both of them deciding to incorporate a holiday as a family since Yugi had stated he would be late returning. The reason for this was absent.
She had been expecting many things when she arrived- someone was sick, he wanted to spend more time with his friends the Ishtars, he had gotten distracted by the history, her father-in-law had gotten hurt trying to explore another tomb at his old age. What she hadn’t expected was the boy sat solemnly in a circle of Yugi’s friends, forehead creased in concentration at what could only be described as a triple game play against none other than Kaiba Seto.
Increasingly strange, was his incredible likeness to Yugi.
Only Solomon noticed their arrival, rising with a genial smile and a finger held to his lips. Kaiba made a move on both boards- one a chess board- and played a card. The boy opposite tapped a finger consideringly and made his own plays. Kaiba swore.
“What...?” she asked, a little lost for words. She was certain she had bought the shirt the stranger was wearing for Yugi, not that he wore it. Yugi seemed allergic to normal shirts and insisted on multiple belts instead.
“One moment,” Solomon said, winking. “I believe the game is coming to an end.” Her father-in-law was right. A moment later the strange boy knocked over his king in defeat, moved a counter off the other board (she wasn’t sure of the game), and made one last play in the game of Duel Monsters. Kaiba rose, glaring.
“This isn’t the end, Atem,” he snarled. Oddly, she didn’t think he looked all that put out to have ultimately lost. The boy- Atem- gave a genial shrug, freezing halfway through the motion as his eyes came to rest on them. Her husband gave a jovial wave, even as Kaiba stalked past, his little brother rushing after him.
“Mum! Dad!” Yugi exclaimed, finally having realised they were there. He seemed to have grown an inch or so it seemed to her. Or perhaps it was the absence of the Puzzle from around his neck, making him seem taller. “You’re here!” She smiled, holding her son close as he came for hugs.
“Of course, we said we were coming,” she said. Yugi ducked away from his father’s ruffling hand. She shared greetings with the rest of Yugi’s friends, remembering Tea, Joey and Tristan well. The albino boy she vaguely knew- Bakura something, she thought- and of course, the Ishtars. Finally, only the stranger among them was left.
It was as he stood, carefully but with a definite grace, that she could take him in properly. While he could have been a doppelgänger for Yugi, there were subtle differences. His skin was darker, a deep coffee-coloured tan, his eyes a deep wine red rather than violet. His face was sharper, lacking the baby fat that still clung to Yugi, and his eyes sterner. There was something piercing about those eyes, a power to pin a person in place. She wasn’t sure she liked that in someone who was so obviously close to Yugi as her son bounced back to him.
“Mum, Dad, this is Atem,” Yugi said, face lit up in excitement. “He... he’s decided to stay.” There was something odd about that sentence, but Masami didn’t get much time to think on it as the boy dipped into a polite bow.
“It is a pleasure to meet you,” he said. His voice was deep and rich, accented despite the perfect Japanese he spoke. It sounded oddly familiar.
“Atem, you say?” her husband mused. “Like the god?” The boy’s lips curled into a faint smile.
“No, like the Pharaoh,” he said, tone amused. Yugi was practically bouncing on his feet.
“Huh,” her husband said. Mutou Ichiro had inherited his father’s love of Egyptian history but not the passion for archaeology. Solomon never said anything, but she knew both her father-in-law and son shared the same enthusiasm that had apparently skipped a generation.
Introductions done, Ishizu greeted them, offering for them all to stay for dinner. Since the kids had no doubt already agreed, it didn’t seem too much trouble to accept- having fed the boys before, she was well aware of how much teenagers were capable of putting away. She left Ichiro and Solomon with the children in favour of wandering into the kitchen to see if she could help there.
Inside, she found a distinct lack of Ishizu and instead the two brothers- well, one really, since Odion seemed to be mostly watching a saucepan of rice- cooking. Marik glanced up from the cooker, having grabbed a literal armful of spices.
“Ah, Mrs Mutou!” he greeted her nervously. “Um... can I help you with anything?” Dimly, she heard the soft sound of laughter in the other room, one of the voices the deep voice of the stranger.
“Oh, no,” she reassured him. “I really came to see if you needed any help! I know how much you need to cook for Joey and Tristan...” Marik blinked in surprise, before smiling.
“Thank you, but I think I’ve got this with Odion. His rice is something else,” he said. “I’m making Ta’meya and mahshi.” Masami nodded, not quite sure what that meant. Judging from the smell, however, it would be delicious.
“I see,” she said, bowing politely. “I’ll leave you to it.” She left them to their work, wondering what to do now. She was not often without things to do, spending her time working or cleaning up after Solomon and Yugi.
And she couldn’t quite admit that she was trying to avoid the stranger.
She could hear him, chattering away with Yugi and his friends, Ichiro and Solomon chiming in occasionally. Whenever her husband spoke, he would go quiet a while, until Yugi asked him something and he would speak again. But it was his eyes that frightened her the most- there was something uncanny in them, something so deeply familiar and terrifying she couldn’t bring herself to meet them.
However, she had no other choice and so, steeling herself, she wandered back into the living room. The teens were sprawled across the floor, only the stranger holding any kind of dignity. He was sat, cross-legged and straight backed, Yugi’s head in his lap as he ran his hand through the fur of the Ishtar’s cat. She was a smoky grey, purring in delight at the attention. Her father and husband were settled on the couch, Ishizu in a chair.
Masami squeezed onto the end, next to her husband. He was laughing at something.
“Oh, Masami!” he said, brown eyes sparkling. “Yugi was just telling us about this market seller they met yesterday. Apparently, he was trying to sell fake shabtis as the real thing!” Masami smiled, unsure why this was so particularly funny. It wasn’t exactly a secret that you could buy counterfeits at the bazaars- Solomon was always fond of telling them.
“Yeah, and Joey nearly fell for it!” Yugi exclaimed, sitting up on one elbow. Atem didn’t seem to mind that Yugi’s hair was blocking his view. “But Atem told him that the hieroglyphs were all wrong and then the guy got super mad!”
“You can read hieroglyphs, Atem?” Ichiro asked, impressed. “I’ve always meant to learn, but unfortunately was too busy.” Atem didn’t meet his eyes.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I can.” His hand had paused, and the cat mewled in protest. He scratched behind her ears and she settled, purring.
He didn’t elaborate further and Yugi shot him a concerned glance.
The conversation flowed a little stilted after that. Joey jumped in, Tristan joining, both overeager to prove a point, while Atem sat in silence, saying nothing further. He had glanced up once- when she entered the room, eyes going wide, before glancing down again. It felt as if the others had noticed the boy’s discomfort and were trying to make amends and cover it up.
Yugi nudged him, whispering quietly, but Atem merely offered him a small smile and murmured something back. Her son settled back into his previous position, head lying in his lap, but the frown stayed. The others started talking about the upcoming opening of a new section to Kaibaland, which they apparently had early access tickets to.
This turned out to have been the stakes of the game earlier.
“Yeah, moneybags didn’t want any of us near there, but ‘Tem refused to go alone, so he bet that if he beat Kaiba in a three for all, we’d all get the tickets!” Joey bragged. “And boy did he win!” He punched Atem on the arm. The boy jumped, startled, sending the blonde a disapproving look as he rubbed where the boy’s fist connected. Joey had the grace to look sheepish.
“Dinners ready!” Marik yelled from the kitchen. Masami barely blinked before Tristan and Joey were off after food. Tea rose slower, along with Yugi and Atem, both rolling their eyes at each other. Masami decided to wait until the rush of teenage enthusiasm for food had died down.
It turned out that Ta’meya was the Egyptian version of falafel and mahshi stuffed baked vegetables. Marik had made them with peppers and she supposed that Odion’s rice really was something else, cooked with herbs and spices that bled into the rice. Everyone tucked in healthily, despite Joey’s initial bemoaning about the lack of meat. Atem smacked him over the head on the way past and he quietened, sharing a grin with Tristan. Even Yugi seemed oddly pleased by this reaction.
Dinner was much of the same, the kids chattering about theme parks and Duel Monsters and their trip, Solomon filling her and Ichiro on with the tomb that Ishizu had taken them to. He was excited to reveal that it had been a tomb linked to that of the Nameless Pharaoh, nameless no longer as he, interestingly, shared a name with their strange new addition. Apparently, Yugi was the one to have found the name, etched in somewhere, and the Ishtars were planning on revealing the information soon and so they had to keep it secret. Ichiro found it exciting, while Masami was content to just watch her family. If they were happy, she was happy.
And then she met Atem’s gaze again. He looked away quickly, tuning back into the conversation the others were having around him. Once again, she noted the very... proper way he ate, how stiff and formal he seemed. Perhaps the addition of new people? Or something else?
“Hey, what was that other game you were playing ‘Tem?” Joey asked, leaning back after finishing his plate. Ishizu had promised sweet treats she had bought from the market after dinner- it turned out she wasn’t much of a cook and Marik had banned her from the kitchen after nearly setting fire to it.
Atem carefully set his plate aside. “Senet,” he said. “I always play hedgehogs.”
“Oh, so that’s what you picked up,” Tristan mused. Atem hummed, rubbing at his wrist. Or, more likely, the bracelet attached there, glinting gold in the warm lights of the Ishtars house, a deep blue scarab set on the inside. He traced it’s outline gently with a finger.
“Are we sure no one’s going to notice it gone?” Tea asked, fiddling with her fork. Yugi shrugged while Atem looked distinctly unconcerned.
“Only if it was the gold leaf set,” he said. “I doubt anyone would notice the plain wooden set missing.” Joey choked on his drink.
“You had a gold senet set?” he exclaimed, eyes wide. Atem gave him a flat look.
“Technically it was wood covered in thin gold sheets. My grandmother was never very good at giving useful gifts.” And oh, the scathing tone was thick enough to cut. She wondered what the woman had ever done to him. Yugi perked up at that.
“Your grandmother?” he asked, curious as always. “You haven’t mentioned her before.” Atem shrugged, face incredibly blank.
“We didn’t get along. She liked to call me lā rāš tašīmti.” Yugi and his friends stared, as did Masami, trying not to seem like she was listening in. A faint blush crossed Atem’s face. “It means ‘imbecile’ or ‘half wit’,” he clarified.
“Really?” Marik asked, face scrunched up. He had joined the others once dinner was served. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that before.”
“It’s Akkadian,” Atem said, as if he didn’t just admit to speaking a dead language that Masami had honestly thought was just a made-up culture from a film. Marik gaped, mouth still full of food.
“Akkadian?” Yugi asked gently. “Your grandmother was Mesopotamian?” Masami frowned, wondering what that meant. Atem traced the scarab again.
“My mother was Naramu, Princess of Akkadia,” he said softly. For a moment he made an aborted movement, as if to touch his hair. Unlike Yugi, he wore it tied half-up, half-down rather than gelled into spikes. There also seemed to be more blonde there too, encircling his face and head almost like a crown. Yugi gently touched his arm, something passing between them unsaid.
“Man, your grandmother sounds like a right piece of work,” Tristan commented, deciding to change the subject from what must have been a painful topic. Masami wondered where this boy had come from. The local asylum, if he believed himself related in an ancient Princess, probably. Atem shrugged yet again, seemingly shrugging off the melancholic mood as well.
“Let’s just say she wasn’t happy when I cut ties with her after getting my sister back,” he said, as forcing the words to be light and airy. None of them seemed to buy it.
“Oh, I didn’t know you had siblings!” Tea exclaimed, gripping to the new topic easily. “I don’t think anyone mentioned them in the memory world...” She trailed off, flushing, even as Atem gave her a gentle smile.
“No, I imagine Zorc wouldn’t have placed them there,” he said. “They were the only ones to use my name after the coronation. Including them would have solved the game almost instantaneously.”
“They? You had more than one?” Tristan perked up at the thought. Joey elbowed him hard in the side and Marik sniggered. Bakura looked strangely awkward.
“Yes,” Atem said, not insulted in the slightest. “I was the middle child actually. Set married my elder sister, a Priestess of Isis, and...” He paused suddenly, a shadow passing over his face. “Akhnadin was the one to take Nofret’s life.” Silence descended at that.
Yugi looked stricken, fingers finding Atem’s. Even the cat jumped into his lap, as if to offer what comfort she could. Tea looked horrified.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t... I wouldn’t have...” Atem offered her a smile, despite the deep sadness in his eyes.
“It is alright, Tea. Nofret wouldn’t have wanted people to mourn her. She always preferred laughter over tears.” Masami was struck by the thought that this boy, who couldn’t be much older than Yugi and the others if she were honest, was incredibly mature. Mature and deeply scarred already with the obvious loss of his family.
She tried to tune back into the conversation between the adults, but even looking at her father-in-law's face said that he had heard the tail end of that too. She shared a look with him, knowing that, despite her reservations, she wanted to offer some form of help to this boy.
Preparing for bed that night, Yugi was worried about Atem. The Pharaoh had been quiet before since deciding to stay. After he had lost their duel, the Pharaoh had gone to the door to the afterlife, clothes and body changing to that as was in the memory world, before pausing. Yugi couldn’t see his face, couldn’t hear his thoughts anymore, but he had thought that he was speaking to someone. It was difficult to tell, so shrouded in light as he was.
When the doors had closed, he was still there, solid and real. He wasn’t the only one to surround their friend and cheer at his decision to stay. He was, however, the only one to see the deep sorrow in Atem’s red eyes, apart from perhaps Kaiba.
Leaving the tomb had been something. Three heart-stopping moments after running from a tomb that was collapsing around them, the Millennium Items buried forever, had been when they could really celebrate. Ishizu had immediately offered her home to the Pharaoh until something more permanent could be figured out and Kaiba had left in a huff.
That first evening was like a dream. The first night, however, was the true test.
Yugi had woken at about one AM, desperate for a glass of water, and noticed that Atem’s bed was empty. Well, technically they were sleeping on the floor or couches. Joey and Tristan were basically a heap of limbs in one corner, while Tea had the sofa. Yugi and Atem had curled up on the floor, although there had been a private and lengthy conversation about modern conventions of nudity in the bathroom. Atem had finally relented on the pyjamas.
He found Atem in the kitchen, staring into a mug of tea as if it could give him the answers to the universe.
“Atem?” he had whispered. “Are you... ok?” It seemed a stupid thing to say- no one in their right mind would be awake at this hour without a reason. Atem startled and Yugi was shocked to find that the Pharaoh had been crying. He rushed over to give his friend a hug, who jumped again.
“I... I’m sorry, did I wake you?” Atem had whispered back, voice thick with tears he had swallowed back. Yugi shook his head.
“What’s the matter?” Yugi asked. “Can you not sleep? Is it... do you miss your family?” Atem hesitated.
“It’s nothing,” he dismissed, wiping his eyes. “Just... a bad memory.” He sipped at his tea tiredly. Yugi bit his lip.
“Is it the dark?” he asked. He knew that the Pharaoh was wary about it, having spent so long in the shadows, but he had said nothing when they turned out the lights. Atem blinked, startled.
“No,” he said. “Thank you, Yugi, but the light from the streetlights is enough.” He attempted a smile but it fell short. Yugi pulled him into another hug.
“It’s ok if you don’t want to talk about it,” he had reassured him. “Just know that we’re here for you, ok?” Atem had smiled properly that time and returned the hug.
“I know,” he had said. “I’m just... being sentimental, I suppose.”
Since that night, the Pharaoh still periodically woke in the night, sometimes screaming himself awake, clutching his side, others silent much like the first night. Yugi could always tell when those nights occurred- Atem could hide it behind a smile and a polite face, but he couldn’t hide the bags under his eyes, giving away his fatigue, despite the kohl he lined his eyes with still that went some way to hiding them.
Kaiba had stopped by more than just that day. The first time had been to drop off documentation that declared Atem as a real person- oddly enough documentation that named him as a dual citizen of both Egypt and Japan. Yugi didn’t like to think how he had done that. What he did take umbridge with, was that Atem was not legally a member of the Mutou household: Kaiba had listed him under the name Atem Madu, which annoyed Yugi and Atem seemed oddly touched by. The next time he turned up was to ensure that Atem understood that he still owed him a duel, along with Yugi. He had left soon after that demand, citing a meeting at the Egyptian branch of Kaiba Corp. The next, he joined them on their trip to the pyramids, which Atem did his best to hide his alarm by, and the time after that when they visited Cairo Museum. Finally, was today, wherein he had announced he wanted both Yugi and Atem to duel and open the new Egyptian themed section of Kaibaland.
Yugi wondered when he had planned that.
Atem didn’t seem bothered by sleeping on the floor of the Ishtars house, but Mum and Dad had booked a hotel and took Grandpa with them- he had been sleeping in Marik’s room, which Marik had quickly surrendered and joined them in the living room. However, Yugi also knew that something was bothering Atem that night as they were in the bathroom, getting ready for bed. Atem had no problem stripping, but Yugi still had to turn his back, flushing. It was just so weird to him, despite literally sharing a body with him for years.
“Hey, Atem,” Yugi ventured quietly, as he pulled on his pyjama top. Atem hummed behind him to show he was listening. “Do you dream of her?” Atem was silent a moment, the lack of rustling a sign he had stopped moving altogether.
“Yes,” he answered eventually. “Usually of the happier times but...” He trailed off. Yugi didn’t need to hear the end of the sentence. He turned to face Atem with a soft smile.
“From what you said today, she sounds amazing. I’d love to hear more about her, whenever you’re ready.” Atem was reluctant to talk about all those he lost, preferring modern topics or to rant about the blatant disrespect shown to his countrymen and later pharaohs.
“She used to spit pomegranate seeds on Set’s head,” Atem said, smiling softly. “And steal from random visiting dignitaries.” Yugi couldn’t help the laugh that crossed his lips. Atem’s eyes were sparkling with mischief at the memory.
“She sounds like a handful,” he noted with a giggle. Atem hummed again, stepping closer to join him at the sink so they could brush their teeth.
“I think between myself, Mana and Nofret, we drove both Set and Mahad up the wall,” he commented. “Although, I think Mahad was mostly mad because we hid his headpiece on the roof, so he couldn’t cover his head properly for a week.”
“You did what?” Yugi sniggered. It was so odd, sometimes, to hear these little moments of trouble that a younger Atem had gotten into. It was so hard to remember that he was sixteen, had been when he died and younger still when he came to the throne.
Atem just winked, scrubbing at his teeth.
Even in a lighter mood, he still stood ramrod straight, bending at precise angles to spit into the sink, always just so. Just perfect. It saddened Yugi that Atem found it so difficult to break out of habits ingrained when he became a ruler so young. They hadn’t spoken of how Akhnankhamun died, how exactly Atem had come to the throne, let alone what occurred to his mother. But these little moments, where he let his guard down even a little, was a great show of trust. Trust that Atem couldn’t give completely because of how long he couldn’t be sixteen.
They hadn’t talked about that either.
When they returned to the living room, Joey and Tristan were wrestling on the floor. Farida the cat was stretched languidly on Atem’s sheets. She was oddly drawn to him, perhaps sensing his distress, and if she wasn’t curled in his lap, she was bringing him little presents. Atem thanked her for every one of them, despite having dead mice, snakes and the occasional rat dumped at his feet. Joey had made a face at each of them, disgusted. Tea, perched on the edge of the sofa, rolled her eyes at their antics while Marik had disappeared to reclaim his room, along with Bakura. The two boys had commiserated at once, having both been vessels for dark entities and it was good to see Ryou so open with another person after so long.
Atem paused at the door to observe, one eyebrow raised. He didn’t seem too concerned, even when Farida meowed at him in greeting. Marik’s head appeared from behind them.
“You know, I still don’t know what you did to our cat,” Marik mused, eyeing her warily. “She usually hates people.” Yugi had noticed that too- she avoided everyone like the plague.
“You just don’t appreciate her enough,” Atem said and it took both Yugi and Marik a long moment to realise he was teasing. By then he had settled down next to her. It was still strange to see Atem, dressed in a set of Yugi’s pyjamas, just sat among them, talking, laughing and included.
“More like you spoil her,” Marik grumbled good-naturedly.
Tristan eventually won the wrestling match with a victorious cry, Joey muttering obscenities under his breath at him. Turned out, they had been fighting over one specific spot on the floor. Yugi wasn’t sure what the issue was, until he spotted a new offering by Farida located under the window. This time it was a locust, still twitching, and he didn’t think it was so much a present as what she thought of the boys. Everything she brought Atem was dead. Marik swept it up, glaring at the cat.
Farida meowed and preened under Atem’s fingers, scratching under her chin, pleased with herself.
Several hours later, he was woken by a soft gasp in his ear. Atem, at some point, had rolled over in his sleep to be lying incredibly close, his hand mere millimetres from Yugi’s shoulder. Yugi took this as a positive- it meant he had gone back to sleep after a nightmare. The crease between his brows, however, denoted that whatever he was dreaming about was not pleasant.
“Sāwtu*,” he murmured in his sleep. Yugi started at the sound. He hadn’t known that Atem talked while asleep. He wondered if Atem knew. “Parriṣu**.” His fingers clenched, hand retracting. Farida purred loudly against Atem’s chest, nuzzling her cheek against his face, sensing distress.
Atem relaxed slowly, leaning into the cat’s ministrations. Yugi noted that it was about four in the morning. He was distracted when Atem made a startled noise, sitting upright wiping at his face. Farida licked her paw.
“Atem?” he whispered, concerned. “Is everything alright?”
“Hm?” Atem blinked at him, peering in the gloom. “Yes, she startled me.” Farida, as if to double down on her grooming of him, licked Atem’s hand. He ran a finger down her back, which she arched into. Yugi smiled.
“I’m going to have to ask Mum if we can get a cat,” he mused out loud. Atem blinked. The shadow of something crossed his face.
“I... don’t think it would be a good idea for us to stay together,” Atem said slowly. He was steadfastly looking at the floor. Yugi felt the bottom of his stomach drop.
“What?” he squeaked, louder than he should have. Somewhere in the room, someone groaned in their sleep.
“Your parents... Yugi, I swear I thought it would be fine at first but... they look so much like my own. And I... don’t know if I can bear to see them look at me and see nought but a stranger.” Yugi swallowed heavily, wondering how long these thoughts had been concerning his friend. How he could have been so blind to a glaring problem. Atem still refused to look at him.
“Ok,” he breathed, hiding the hurt, This wasn’t about what he wanted. Atem had chosen to stay already, it was selfish to force him to stay in the same house with strangers with his very dead parents’ faces. “Ok. Do you know where you want to stay instead?” Atem shrugged.
“I don’t... I haven’t thought that far ahead.” It was strange to hear Atem sound so small. So... his age. Yugi had always thought that Atem was in his early twenties or so before the Memory World: he acted so much older than his years. When they had discovered he was only sixteen at the time of his death, it felt like a kick to the gut. His dearest friend, his brother, his other half, had had to grow up so fast. Pharaoh for barely a year, and he had had to deal with his whole world falling apart around him. A child forced to grow up too quick.
It truly had been selfish of him to believe all would be well if Atem stayed.
“We’ll think of something,” Yugi said, determined. “I’m sure Ishizu and Marik would be happy to house you until we’ve decided. Or, we can discuss with the others when they’re awake...”
“Seto offered me a place with him and Mokuba,” Atem said abruptly. Yugi blinked. Atem seemed to sense that he was confused because he glanced up briefly, the same confusion reflected there, mixed with deep uncertainty. “It was as he was leaving, that second time. I wasn’t sure if he was serious, he left so fast.” He shrugged helplessly.
“Well, it’s an option, if you want and he’s willing to offer,” Yugi said slowly. He glanced again at the clock. Still only half past four. Deciding that there was little point in going back to sleep, he quietly slipped out of his sleeping bag. “Do you want some tea?” he asked. Atem smiled.
“Of course.”
As Yugi prepared the tea, Atem fed Farida, the cat weaving her way around his legs and purring, rubbing herself against him. Atem scratched behind her ears as he set the bowl of food down. He had just finished washing his hands when Yugi set two mugs at the table. It would be easier to talk here, where they were less likely to be disturbed. He gave Atem a warm smile to show that there were no hard feelings about his revelation. He had asked so much of the young Pharaoh already, he didn’t want to cause him yet more suffering.
“Did you need to talk about anything else?” Yugi asked gently. If Atem didn’t want to talk, they didn’t have to. Atem hummed, sipping his own tea.
“Not... need to,” he mused. “But... Yugi, you don’t have to be afraid of asking.” Yugi twitched, briefly confused before realising.
“I’m not afraid!” he clarified. “I just... that first night, you were so upset. I didn’t want to make you regret this decision.” Atem gave him a sad smile.
“It will never upset me to talk of my family,” he said firmly. “Apart from perhaps my grandmother.” Yugi let out a quiet chuckle at that. “It is true that it is sometimes... painful, but I will see them again one day. They waited five thousand years for me, they are happy to wait a few more if I can live out the rest of my days loved by friends.” Yugi blinked back tears, touched.
“You mean it?” he whispered. He had been so afraid, scared that Atem would suddenly decide he had made a huge mistake. And, silently, that his decision to live elsewhere had been the first sign of that, despite all the fun they had had this week. Atem laid a hand over his own.
“I do,” he said firmly. “And... Nofret would have it no other way. She’ll pester me for many an eternity in the afterlife about modern life and all the pockets I didn’t pick.” Yugi let out a startled laugh at that, trying his best to keep it quiet.
It didn’t work so well. Joey appeared a moment later, blonde hair mussed and blinking sleepily at that.
“What are you guys doing up at this ungodly hour?” he moaned, staring at them through sleep addled eyes.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Atem said, sipping at his tea almost primly. Joey’s disgruntled expression softened at that.
“Well, we have a cure for that,” he stated firmly. A moment later he disappeared and there was some startled yelping. Tristan swore at him. Tea grumbled sleepily and there was a lot of rustling. Then, Joey popped back into the kitchen, wide awake and positively beaming.
Entering the living room, Yugi realised Joey had built a blanket fort out of the sofa cushions, pillows and sea of blankets that Ishizu had leant them. Atem blinked, bemused.
“Ta da!” Jeoy exclaimed. “One blanket fort!” Atem still looked mildly confused.
“I see?” he said, hands still cupping the tea. Tea smiled from where she was sprawled within a cocoon of blankets.
“Joey said you couldn’t sleep,” she said gently. “And Joey always believes that the best cure to that is building a blanket fort and dog-piling on top of each other until we talk ourselves to sleep.” Atem blinked again, face blank.
“This is... for me?” he asked slowly. “To help me feel... better?” Yugi wondered whether anyone had ever come to comfort Atem when he had night terrors before. From the way he had dealt with them so far, the answer seemed to be a depressing no.
He nudged him from the side.
“I have dibs on the spot by the fireplace!” he exclaimed. Atem hauled him back before he could belly-flop into the most desired place, twisting so that they fell back safely into the pile of pillows and blankets, somehow simultaneously setting the cup on the side so it didn’t spill. Yugi was so going to have to ask what deranged soul had taught him that trick. It didn’t seem like something that a normal person learnt in self-defence.
It was made all the better by the sound of Atem’s gentle laughter.
Seto was not going to admit to the warm feeling that rose when Atem asked to speak to him about his living arrangement when he arrived three days after his previous visit. He had known that the Pharaoh would crack the moment Yugi’s parents appeared: unlike the others, he had actually went looking for likenesses of Atem’s parents. Combined with the shadowy memories he preferred not to think about, it was a forgone conclusion that Atem wouldn’t be able to look in their faces everyday and fake a polite smile. It was strained enough that first sight, the way he stiffened and froze, like a deer in headlights. Seto tried to pretend he didn’t remember what happened to Queen Naramu.
He still woke to her echoing screams from the birthing chamber.
Mutou Ichiro was far from the man Akhnankhamun had been. Seto had noticed that the moment he heard the stories, doubled down by those same memories he was adamantly ignoring. Akhnankhamun had had to run a country, had discarded an entire village for the sake of creating the Millennium Items and allowed his brother’s family to drift apart and his son to drive himself past the point of no return attempting to fix his mistakes. The laid-back, busy salesman who spent his life working to provide for his family in a way that the Game Shop most certainly wasn’t, was so far removed from the figure of Priest Set’s childhood, it wasn’t funny. The slap to the face it most likely was to Atem, who had loved his father dearly all the same, cut deep. Worse than the mother he barely remembered.
So, it was no surprise to him when Atem asked if his offer had been a serious one. And, as much as he wanted to deny it, he admitted that it was. That Mokuba would be delighted to have another person around the house, and so long as he did nothing to disturb the business, Atem had a room at the Kaiba mansion if he so wished. For a brief moment, a flash of mischief, usually hidden away under the mask of Pharaoh, peeked through as he slyly asked if the invitation extended to his friends.
Seto gave him nothing except a glare for that. The brat smirked anyway.
Mokuba, on hearing the news as they entered the room proper, far earlier than the Mutous, was ecstatic. The dweeb squad were less so, Wheeler scowling the hardest. They said nothing, however. The Ishtars just gave him knowing looks.
Three days later, they were all squashed into the Kaiba private plane, usually reserved solely for Seto and his brother. It could fit the eleven passengers comfortably, but he could have done without the excited squealing.
His work was disturbed by the quiet presence of Mutou Masami.
“Who is he?” she asked quietly, glancing to watch her son and Atem, who were currently locked in a quiet game of Duel Monsters. Most of the others were watching, save for Bakura who was shuffling through his cards quietly with Mutou Solomon. “Really?” Seto paused.
“Why do you want to know?” he asked, suspicious. Her husband had had no such compunction to ask and was mindlessly chatting amiably with Tristan about motorbikes.
“Is it so strange that I would want to know about this stranger who seems so close to my son?” she half-snapped, reigning in her temper quickly. He could see a flash of fear in her eyes. “You seemed to know him well, especially since you offered him a place in your home.”
“He’s my cousin,” Seto said flatly, the words slipping out before he could them. She blinked at him, surprised. “From my birth family,” he clarified further, as if it needed said. Which, if she did any basic research, would read as correct now. Especially since Seto and Mokuba’s birth father had been Egyptian, and no one bothered to research them from the time before being adopted by Kaiba Gozabruo. As if they hadn’t existed before then.
He ignored the sick rush of anger at the thought.
“Oh,” she said, drawing back and flushing. “I... didn’t know.”
“He lost his family recently,” Seto ground out. “So, he’s coming to live with me and Mokuba.” He said it with the certainty of one who had watched him die before, had watched the lifeblood seep from his mouth and chest, shattered along with the golden Pendant around him, leaking into the dusty sand. “Anything else you want to know?” She stood shakily, shaking her head.
“No, no,” she said softly. “I... am sorry for your loss.”
Seto was adamant he would never tell her that the loss of Akhanakhamun had never affected him so much as it had affected Atem. He could remember the number of times Priest Set, frustrated that the spirited young Pharaoh was shirking his nightly duties and going to rant to a certain Princess of Isis, only to find him passed out in a little alcove hidden from public view. Or the times that he had come across a slumped form in the Palace library, surrounded by scrolls, some half written, and slid him onto the hidden sleeping palate he had set up as an acolyte. And be reminded, yet again, of all the things that Akhnankhamun had gotten so, so wrong.
He would never tell, he would rather give up Duel Monsters, than see Atem run himself ragged again to fix someone else’s mistakes.
And yet, you have, he thought bitterly, watching as Mutou Masami wandered over to the rest, unable to concentrate on his work anymore. You watched him fight Marik and fix a family’s ties and fight Dartz when even you lost strength. He fought Pegasus and saved your decrepit soul because Yugi made a promise to Mokuba. He fought the urge to punch something. Even in his afterlife, Atem had to mop up other people’s mistakes.
It was something that had been lost to even Mahad. Stupid magician, he thought, snapping the laptop shut, knowing he would get nothing else done. Sacrificing himself, when he knew Atem had lost enough already. But then, what was one more, when preserving the life of the living God on earth? He would never forgive Mahad that. Not even when he died.
No, when he died, he was going to punch the stupid magician right in the face. And continue doing so until the message went in.
“Big brother?” Mokuba asked, quiet so no one heard. “You ok?” Mokuba hadn’t asked what happened in the Memory World. Hadn’t even really asked when Seto had given the admittedly impulsive offer of a home to Atem. Seto would never know why the Gods had decided he deserved a brother half so understanding as Mokuba.
He glanced over again to the form of Atem, living and alive and happy, even if the shadow of grief still hung over him.
“No,” he murmured, still angry. “But I will be. One day.” Mokuba grinned, appeased.
“I’m glad Atem’s staying too,” he said. “I’d love to get to know our cousin. You know, properly.” Seto allowed a small smile, the one that was only for Mokuba.
Of course, he had noticed far better than the imbeciles which Atem was surrounded by. He had the best brother, after all.