Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Atem…”

Atem looked up from his coffee, the steam pleasantly rising into his face, to tilt his head forward and nod at his partner. Yuugi had seemed a bit off lately, and it was clear to him that there was something important he was mulling over, but he knew better than to press for an answer simply because he was curious or concerned. Yuugi would tell him when he was ready, and hopefully now was the time.

“Atem…” Yuugi said again, clearing his throat and taking another sip of his spiced chai latte. He really needed to pluck up the courage and just ask his question, but it was a big question, and he didn’t really know how his other self would respond to it. This was something he had been thinking about ever since everyone had successfully made it home in one piece. Their lives together were linked… but still, he wanted everyone, him and Atem included, to live
their lives to their utmost.

He shifted uneasily in the wooden cafe chair and took another swig of tea, the gulp making an air bubble that slowly, plainfully made its way down his throat.

“Yuugi, my love, my star, please tell me what’s on your mind,” Atem whispered as he stared deeply into the pit of brown and creamy white that was his coffee cup. “You’ve been repeating my name for the past five minutes, and if I have to hear it one more time, I think I might go deaf.”

Atem was right, of course. He couldn’t keep stalling like that. Starting a conversation and then letting it peeter off into nothingness was so unlike either of them, really. After everything they had gone through together, Yuugi felt that he owed his other half more than what he was giving him. So, rather than start in on his attempted conversation for the umpteenth time, he quietly slid the small lovey from the bag at his feet and placed it at the center of their table.

Sitting snuggly between their coffee cups was a snow-white lovey, velvety soft on top and silky-smooth under, with a Blue-Eyes White Dragon plushie curled up into a tender ball of sleep quietly snoozing at the center of the little blanket.

“Kaiba’s gone and had an affair with someone and they’re having a child?”

Yuugi instantly choked on his tea, sputtering and laughing from the sheer indignation that both Kaiba and Jounouchi would have at such a brazen statement. Smacking his fist against his chest, he shook his head no before picking up the little security blanket and checking for any stains. It was still as pure white as the snow that lined the streets and topped every roof in the city.

“No?” Atem chuckled. Of course not… “But you can’t get pregnant, so what is this about, Aibou?”

Atem’s everlasting trust in Yuugi made a warmth surge through his whole body that the chai was unable to replicate. It wasn’t even within the realm of possibility that Yuugi would cheat on Atem in any way, and that thought alone, of boundless trust and love, set Yuugi’s soul aflame.

The cards were dealt. It was time to lay them out.

“Well… Have you ever thought about having kids? Not right now, I mean. But later, maybe? When we’re more established as adults and everything…”

Now it was Atem’s turn to sputter in surprise. This was not a conversation that he was expecting to have only six or so months after having been brought back from the dead. It was a stroke of pure luck that he didn’t happen to have any coffee in his mouth when Yuugi had spoken, or the shining white of the sleeping dragon’s nest would surely have turned splotchy. He cupped his mug tightly, letting the burning heat sear his flesh, and thought back to how he would plunge his hands slowly into sand dunes on hot, sunny days in order to feel the same exact thing.

It was a strangely grounding feeling, he realized.

“I must admit that I have not, apart from when father’s priests and advisors pretty much forced me to look for a suitable match,” he replied, noting the slightly pained look shimmering just at the back of his partner’s eyes. “I’m sorry, I know that’s not a particularly good time to reminisce about.”

Yuugi shook his head and smiled that same, soft smile as always. His partner was so full of understanding and patience that Atem wondered how one person could possibly be so forgiving.

“It’s fine. You made all of that fine, in the end. The mental anguish was all my fault the entire time anyway,” Yuugi grinned, a light blush tinting his cheeks. “Now’s different though. We don’t have any requirements or duties to anyone but ourselves… And despite the fact that we’re both, you know, boys, I can see myself raising a child with you… When the time is right, of course!”

The blush on Yuugi’s face was now a solid red, and Atem couldn’t help but stare at his partner with every fiber of his being in an attempt to burn the sight into his memory for all of time to come. Everything else faded into the background. The snow-lined window giving them a glimpse into the world outside, the idle chatter of the other patrons around them, the warm glow of the Christmas decorations that the coffee master had put up to celebrate… All of it faded into a blurry sense of warmth and belonging in the light of Yuugi’s eternal brightness.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to answer right away,” Yuugi hastily continued on, grabbing the baby’s plaything and quickly hoping down from his chair. “I’ll wait for your answer. Whenever you’re ready. It was just a thought, after all.”

Yuugi packed his belongings up and pointedly ignored the tugging at his soul. Atem’s indecision was clear as day to him, and even though that feeling was tinged with love and admiration, he just didn’t want to feel let down by having asked the question too soon. After all, they weren’t even in their twenties! Normal young adults weren’t contemplating parenthood so early in their lives… but then again, neither of them were normal.

After his partner’s hasty retreat, leaving Atem scrambling to thank their usual coffee shop owner before dashing out, the pair walked home in silence. Even dinner and their usual banter seemed less animated, under the pressure of such a question. Atem wondered if his indecision would be a dealbreaker. Their relationship as an official couple was still so fresh, even if they had loved each other for an eternity of lifetimes.

If only there was a way for me to know what I would be getting into. What is it really like to raise a child, anyway?

Everything he could remember from his childhood was clearly nothing like modern-day children’s upbringing, apart from the love and time spent doing it, of course, and even his time with Yuugi from within the puzzle wasn’t very telling, as by then he was an independent teenager with world and pharaoh-saving ambitions.

The pair fell asleep, snuggled close under their winter duvet, each one wondering whether they had made their relationship awkward, and how Christmas morning would go…

Chapter Text

Atem awoke with a start, but it certainly wasn’t because of the jarring alarm clock noise that Yuugi had set the night before to make sure that they were up and ready to welcome everyone for breakfast. No… this noise, despite how jarring it was, was definitely not coming from Yuugi’s phone.

Someone, in bed, lying right next to him, was crying. This was no ordinary crying, or at least, it sounded nothing like what Yuugi sounded like when he cried. There were no soft sniffles and stifled hiccups or sighs. No… This was acute wailing, the likes of which Atem had never lived through before.

Like alarm bells pounding into his eardrums, he jolted out of bed and pivoted his body to face the potential onslaught of pain and anguish that was clearly coming from beneath the sheets, but Yuugi’s mess of black and amethyst spikes was nowhere to be seen. The cries continued, picking up in intensity now that he had left the bed, and a small bundle of the duvet was seen wriggling and writhing to match. Throwing all caution to the wind, Atem leaned forward and pulled the covers back in one fell swoop, ready to quell the tears and cries, until his eyes fell upon the wiggling mess that was his nightshirt.

Hadn’t Yuugi been wearing it before they went to bed?

A tuft of black peeked out from the blue and white starry pajama shirt, then quickly disappeared again as the cloth writhed and wriggled, shrieks of fear and pain booming out from the thin fabric. Atem could feel his blood pressure anxiously rising the more he listened to the cries coming from below him. Whatever it was, he absolutely had to calm it down. Quickly scooping the shirt up into his arms, he cradled it close to his bare chest and shushed loudly, praying that whatever he was holding— because surely it couldn’t possibly be Yuugi— would calm down.

Sure enough, enough shushing and rocking of his body back and forth calmed the screeching peals of anguish that were boring into his skull, leaving only a string of high-pitched whines and hiccups in their wake. Atem released the tension in his muscles as he slowly sat back down and gently placed the bundle on the bed. The whining picked up in intensity, but not before he swiftly unbuttoned the shirt to reveal a very red-faced babe sporting Yuugi’s signature black spiked hair, the only difference being that the spikes were now tipped with a gold that shimmered and shone with every slight movement.

What and how. Those were the two main questions that rocketed through Atem’s mind as he scooped his tiny partner back into his arms and held him tightly. He needed answers. Now.

“Khonsu!” he bellowed into the crack of dawn, “What in the name of the gods has happened!?”

No sooner had Atem called upon his partner’s brother than the moon god was standing there before him, eyes wide with as much surprise as his own. “I… cannot say…” Khonsu shifted awkwardly as he peeked a look at his brother’s wide-eyed and terrified expression, his tiny eyes now a swirl of golden stars that blocked out any hint of Yuugi’s usual shimmering violet. “This is clearly the work of another god… But I do not see why our own would dare to bother either of you again… Let me convene with Mut. I will find who is responsible and send them your way.”

And with that, the eternally young moon god disappeared in a twinkling flash of moonlight as the first rays of sunlight peaked over the horizon.

Atem wasted no time in shuffling about their bedroom. First, he slowly and methodically grabbed Yuugi’s cell phone to switch off the alarm that would likely set off his now tiny partner. Then he awkwardly grabbed his own in a strange shuffle of hands as Yuugi clung desperately to his chest like a baby koala. From there, he dumped the darned tech onto Yuugi’s desk and deftly fished the earpiece out with a swipe of his index and pressure from pushing the phone against the tucked in chair. It was surprising how difficult maneuvering could be when there was a tiny human clinging tightly to you.

“Call the group. Full screen. Speaker on. Emergency alert.”

Bright, golden yellow light flashed from the usually dull veins of the black-shelled cell phone as he shifted the body clinging to him just enough to hook the earpiece in place before turning back around and hurriedly draping his nightshirt over the naked babe in his arms.

“It’s not even seven o’clock, Atem,” groaned Kaiba, who showed up on the screen first, still clearly in bed.

“Yeah…” yawned Anzu, hers and two other pairs of bleary eyes staring back at him in the soft light of a bedside lamp.

“How’s Christmas even an emergency?” Honda laughed. “What’d you do, burn breakfast?” Atem heard Jounouchi’s muffled snicker before the blond also popped on screen. Shizuka and Ryuji also pushed onto the screen from either direction, shushing the two boys at their sides.

“It’s not Christmas that’s the emergency,” Atem breathed out, trying his best to remain calm for everyone’s sake, their tired eyes all staring at him expectantly. “Something’s happened to Yu—”

A flash of fire lit up between him and the desk where his phone was projecting the rest of the group, revealing a tall, impressive looking man in a nicely tailored black suit and emerald green tie, the color of which matched the mischievous glint in his eyes. With a swipe of his hands through his raven black locks, a gust of wind blew the fire out, leaving the man standing calmly in the center of the bedroom as though it were perfectly normal to be there.

“Hey, Tio! I can call you Tio, right? Your name is so long. Or I could call you T—”

Just the mere sound of this man’s sultry, sly voice made Atem’s blood boil. This was the god that had broken his happiness and put Yuugi into this state!?

“Atem.” he bit out from between clenched teeth. “There is no need to use any other name with you.”

“Oh…” chirped the stranger, emerald eyes gleaming menacingly as he looked around the room, his demeanor completely nonchalant about being in such a place and time. “Very well then, Atem. What is it that you’ve asked me here for?”

“Don’t you play coy with me, god,” he hissed quietly, swallowing back the booming voice he would normally use for such unsavory people who look to do his partner or friends harm. “What have you done to my partner?”

“Atem, what do you mean?” he heard Anzu call out from behind him. “What’s wrong with Y—”

“Don’t say his name!” the god swiftly interrupted. A tense silence swept through the bedroom as the group on the video call pressed up against their screens. Atem silenced a tiny whimper by rocking Yuugi and holding his breath to keep from yelling obscenities. He was hardly in the mood to humor anyone at this point, but there was clearly a reason for the man’s very rude interruption. The smartly dressed man stepped off to the side, leaving him able to speak to both parties before continuing. “Well, since I have an audience, I might as well explain it to everyone at once then.”

“Your now little star,” the man said with a smirk on his face, “confided in me his intent to speak to you about that topic he broached yesterday at the cafe, so I kept an eye on the two of you and couldn’t help but notice his disappointment.”

“Wait a sec. Back up buddy and start from the beginning,” Jounouchi interrupted, “You know…Y— our friend? How?”

A genuine, easy laughter broke out of the god, and he wiped a few stray tears from his eyes as he shook his head. “For you to not know is surprising… Has your star not said anything to you?” Atem growled at that question, guttural and vicious in its intensity. The man merely shrugged his shoulders, bunching up the cleanly pressed dress shirt beneath his suit jacket, before continuing. “Regardless… He is special. Out of all of the people throughout history, he broke through the dimensional barriers that the gods had rightfully placed to keep separate the different groups. His boundless willpower and sacrificial nature granted him godhood, something which few others have attained throughout time.”

Atem mulled over those words as he rested his chin on top of Yuugi’s small head. He thought back to just after Battle City, when Yuugi’s literature and history teachers had done a joint unit on Ancient Greece and Rome. Yuugi’s imagination had sparked like a wild flame, because ‘if the Egyptian Gods are real, then why wouldn’t any of the others be?,’ the two of them spending countless hours in the following weeks reading up on the various myths and gods of other cultures.

“So you’re likening my partner to Hercules?” Atem replied, his mind combing over the knowledge they had amassed to see if any other historical figure fit the bill.

“Pretty much. Sacrificing himself for Bakura and calling on the Fates to help him still is the most interesting thing that we all talk about, regardless of godly realm.”

“HE DID WHAT!?!?”

Atem’s bellowing shout startled the sleeping bundle in his arms, throwing it into a fit of tears and tiny flailing arms and legs that shook the nightshirt off of it. Shocked gasps and exclamations filled the room as Atem’s friends processed the reason why they had been woken with an emergency call.

“IS THAT Y—!?” Mokuba screeched right as Seto slapped a hand over his mouth. Atem hadn’t even noticed the younger Kaiba’s arrival, so focused was he on the unknown god present in the room with him. A shocked yelp echoed out from their side of the video call before Mokuba continued, Seto shaking his head and wiping the palm of his hand on his pajama sleeve. “And you’re the Norse god, Loki, right!?”

“Bingo!” the god grinned, stroking his black beard before taking a deep, theatrical bow.

“You still haven’t said how you came to know my partner,” Atem said, as he desperately covered the naked babe in his arms and cuddled him tightly to his chest, rocking back and forth to calm its fears. “How can I possibly trust you after you’ve done this to him?”

“He really hasn’t said anything to you, has he?” Loki laughed with unbridled mirth, and the others couldn’t help but feel hurt by the fact that the god was correct. Yuugi hadn’t said anything to them about Loki, and Atem was only now finding out about what had happened in Duat. “When there aren’t any customers in the shop, your star calls on me to play some friendly games. We entertain each other until business picks back up again.”

“Out of all of the gods he could choose from to play games with when he’s bored, he picked you, the God of Mischief!?” Seto scoffed.

“He said my tricks made winning more challenging for him,” Loki grinned. “Besides, he always wins, so long as he can figure out my trick. That, and we trade information. He really is a good soul… Probably the most innocent and well-meaning out of any of the gods in existence.”

“So why punish him like this?” Anzu called out with Ryou and Bakura nodding in agreement beside her.

“My dear, this is hardly a punishment. Think of this as… a helpful push in the right direction for a certain stubborn young man.”

Atem felt the heat rise in his cheeks as the fury of the entire group turned on him, their silent gazes expectant. He swallowed the humongous knot in his throat, took a big gulp of air that he almost choked on, and attempted to defend himself.

“He asked me yesterday if I would ever want to raise children with him, which to be honest sounds like a lovely idea but I don’t even know the first thing about children and he looked a little disappointed when I couldn’t answer him because honestly I just don’t know what to say or think— it’s such a huge responsibility and you all know how great I am with huge responsibilities, catastrophes just seem to occur all around me— so we kinda just went to bed with this unfinished conversation and then I woke up to a screaming baby and how in the world is this supposed to make everything better!?”

He could hear Yuugi gently sucking on his thumb for comfort even as Seto’s laugh drifted over the phone’s speaker. Why did it always have to be his cousin that made fun of him? “So I take it he showed you that little baby blanket prototype for the KC store?” The rest of the group laughed and cooed at the image that Seto displayed on the screen. Oh… Everyone already knew about Yuugi’s idea… Atem wondered why was he always the last one to know about important things and couldn’t help but pout, his bottom lip jutting out despite his desire to keep a straight face in front of a fellow god. He watched as Loki chuckled, shaking his head and motioning for him to sit on the bed as the other god stepped around to the desk and pulled out Yuugi’s chair. Atem sat down slowly so as not to jostle and unwillingly wake Yuugi, while Loki twirled the chair and sat on it backwards, his arms resting lazily on the back of it.

There was a fondness in those emerald eyes that Atem couldn’t quite place, and so, instead of speaking, he waited to let the other speak.

“In all honesty,” Loki began, his nice suit suddenly replaced with a pair of very comfy black pajamas and forest green slippers, “it has been over a millennia since anyone has joined the upper pantheon of the gods, regardless of the realm. Your story is inspiring and fascinating and your partner is truly one of a kind… Take it from me… So I wanted to help in any way that I could, but you know me, the ‘God of Mischief’ can’t possibly do anything without it being ridiculous and complicated. So here we are. Just know that my intentions were pure— for once— and that I used all of my wiles to make this work.”

The group nodded in silent understanding before Otogi piped up. “So what’re the rules of the game then? This is a game, right?”

“Hmmm… It’s not really a game, but here are the rules that you must play by.” Loki laughed. “The goal of this game, as you so aptly named it, is for Atem to figure out whether or not he would like to raise any children. The spell I cast lasts for twelve days. I picked that since it matches up perfectly with this silly Christmas tradition you’re all celebrating and it would be pointless to go any further than that since Atem has already seen what teenagers in this day and age are like through all of you. Granted, he was growing up alongside you, but you’re all so young that I figured it’s unnecessary. Every day your star will age by one year. Right now he’s about… One and a half. So no worrying about all of the stresses of having a newborn. At the end of the twelfth day, when he goes to sleep, he will go back to his normal age and regain all of his sealed memories. Until then, you cannot under any circumstances say any of his names, or it will break the spell.”

“What if that’s what we want to do? I mean, this is supposed to be our first Christmas together as a whole group, and this kinda puts a huge damper on it,” Honda called out even as Jounouchi slugged him from behind. “What? You know you’re thinking it too!” he cried, rubbing his head as he glared at his friend.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. As I said, Atem holds a very special god in his arms. It was hard enough to separate his psyche into dormant and awake states. If he were to regain his full memories while also being in this magical state, there’s no telling what would happen to him.”

“And what about the burden he bears?” Ryou inquired sagely. “You can’t seriously tell us that you allowed a child to carry it, memories or not.”

At that accusation, Loki looked bewildered and insulted, the shock on his face clearly showing despite the early morning’s lack of light. The light of the video chat projecting in the air cast an eerie glow, causing the god’s features to look tighter and more haggard than before.

“I would never do that. I consider your friend to be my own, and though I do love to play pranks and tricks on others, I wouldn’t dream of doing so to him. Until the beginning of the thirteenth day, his burden will be my own.”

The group sighed in relief at those words. Apparently the Norse god was even willing to keep Yuugi’s burden for an extra night. Perhaps Loki wasn’t as bad as the old myths and tales had taught them.

“Now that I have explained everything to you, I will leave Atem to this… learning experience. Do your best to enjoy the time you have with this child, and weigh your thoughts and feelings carefully before you give your answer to your star on the thirteenth day.” And with those final words, Loki disappeared in a blinding flurry of wind and fire, leaving the others to contemplate their next move.

All pretenses for having a traditional Christmas together as a group were dropped, and each small group instead scrambled to bring along items that Atem would need for the next twelve days. Shizuka, Jounouchi, Otogi, and Honda brought a bagful each of groceries to make meals, snacks, and other little things that they knew kids like to munch on. Anzu, Ryou, and Bakura brought two beach bags, one filled with toys that Yuugi could play with in the bath, and the other with Anzu’s school swimsuit, a spare set of clothes, and an oversized beach towel. Mokuba brought his favorite bedtime book as a toddler, the only thing that he had managed to keep from before his parents’ death, while his brother brought an assortment of puzzles of varying difficulties.

Within half an hour, the entire gang was lounging about in the Mutou livingroom, watching a tiny toddling Yuugi giggle madly as Atem worriedly followed him from room to room, a flurry of panicked activity following his every move. Anzu picked up the now diapered and clothed bundle of energy and redirected him for the upteenth time, barely suppressing her giggle at Atem’s sigh of relief. Bakura and Ryou quietly made breakfast in the kitchen, occasionally sticking small morsels of whatever was done into the hungry giggling maw that came by every so often to check on their progress.

Lunch quickly followed breakfast, and it seemed to Atem that despite Yuugi’s smaller form, he would eat them all out of house and home. His appetite certainly surpassed that of Ryou and Bakura, and those two had made a pointed effort to keep from munching between meals, unlike the giggling mess of limbs currently covering himself in mashed potatoes and howling with laughter.

It was hardly funny to Atem, especially when he took into account how much they all had to clean… The table, the chair, the books they had piled under Yuugi to sit him high enough to eat properly at the table, the clothes he was wearing as well as Yuugi’s, plus the toddler in question. But still, even as exasperated and overwhelmed as he felt, he found himself gazing fondly at the sight. This child’s innocent glee was indeed a glorious, heartwarming thing to behold.

By dinner time the random shouts of “hey!,” “it,” and all manner of names akin to “squirt” had boiled down to what the group decided to call Yuugi’s spellcast-self: Yoi. Everyone agreed that it was a bit ridiculous, but he already had a precedent for untraditional names, and it wasn’t as though this child was going to be officially registered with the Japanese government, so Yoi it was.

Bathtime came next, and Anzu jumped into the role of bath giver under Atem’s watchful gaze as she showed him all of the knowledge she had gained from babysitting while in school. The group had gone rummaging around in the large storage space beneath the game shop’s stairs and found a treasure trove of Yuugi’s old belongings that his mother had lovingly put aside as he had outgrown them. The bright blue whale bathtub that Yoi now splashed gleefully in, spraying the entirety of the wet room with an uneven coat of bubbly water, was the most useful one by far, and Atem couldn’t help but understand why Mama Yuugi would have wanted to keep it. It was far too cute to get rid of.

Despite the danger to his cell phone, Atem managed to snag a few pictures and a video of Yoi cooing and screaming happily as he patted the bubbles floating on the surface of the water until they shot up into the air and floated back down.

By the time Yoi was cleaned and dried, Atem was completely and utterly exhausted. How could one child possibly be so tiring with ten people caring for it? It was a baffling question that he simply did not have the energy to answer. He shook out and fluffed Yuugi’s super large CuddleSac, arranged it so that the Kuriboh eyes were just below where they would sit in it, got himself comfortable, and let Anzu hand Yoi to him, the velvety soft Blue-Eyes baby blanket snuggly cuddled in his tiny gasp.

Anzu covered them with a light blanket, turned off their bedroom light, and left them to the quiet darkness of the bedroom with only Khonsu’s moonlight gently casting upon their tired bodies. Atem fought the sleep that clawed at his eyelids, pulling them down every few seconds, as he admired the sleepy look on Yoi’s face. Those shimmering yellow eyes were closed, and his wispy spikes tipped with a golden sparkle that matched his eyes were finally still.

In that moment, Atem could have sworn that his heart soared. Was this what it was like to love a child?

Chapter Text

Anzu was already in the kitchen preparing breakfast when Atem shouted loudly from upstairs that he couldn’t find a large enough diaper. She shook her head, turned off the stove for a quick minute, and dashed up to help, another laugh floating from her lips and into the quiet morning air. She walked into Yuugi and Atem’s room to find the elder desperately rummaging through the small bag of diapers they had hastily bought at the only combini still open on Christmas Day while a very naked two year old Yoi turned a simple but deceptive puzzle over in his hands in an attempt to get the string from one end of the metal loop to the other. She quickly fished out the appropriate size for Yui’s current state of growth, threw a t-shirt, pants, socks, and a sweater of the right size at Atem, and left again to let the bewildered and stressed parent figure out the rest.

Atem found himself being far more stern with Yoi this morning than he had been with the child the day before, especially because the now two year-old was trying his darndest to push all of his buttons and was really testing those basic safety boundaries that really should never be tested. Was this what Yuugi was like as a child? If so, Atem thought tiredly, Mama Yuugi was to be commended for her efforts in raising his partner.

Yoi was supposed to be as close to a clean slate as possible, with all of Yuugi’s memories suppressed, but still, Atem tended to find similarities between the little boy animatedly scribbling a rainbow dragon with a handful of crayons and his partner. He sighed as he sat at the dining room table, cheek cupped in his left hand, and watched Yoi scrunch his face in concentration as he leaned forward to give his sparkling dragon a fierce set of light blue teeth. That look was exactly the same one that Yuugi sported when faced with a difficult math problem while in school.

“Breakfast is ready you two,” Anzu called out from the kitchen as she set about placing all of the food on their plates. “Yoi, please put your crayons and paper on the coffee table. You can finish later.”

“Hai!”

The high pitched response and giggle that followed warmed his heart and soul like he didn’t think possible. Atem watched as Yoi scrambled off of the adult-sized chair with his paper and crayons in hand before being nudged by Anzu who was setting the table. “A bit of help would be nice, Papa Atem,” she winked.

Breakfast was calmer than the day before. Yoi no longer ate with his hands, now doing his best to scoop or stab food with his training spoon or fork, depending on the food in question. Atem briefly considered that he would need to rummage through the kitchen drawers to find Yuugi’s old training chopsticks for the next day. A soon-to-be three-and-a-half year old would need access to all of the usual cutlery. Yuugi would never forgive him if he didn’t make the effort to teach Yoi everything a Japanese child should know.

Cleaning up and doing the usual morning toiletries was definitely easier than the day before as well. Yoi stood on the tips of his toes on the kitchen step-stool and vigorously brushed his teeth with the sparkly-white children’s toothpaste that Shizuka had thought to include in her grocery bag. Atem couldn’t help but fondly think that soon he wouldn’t need to set up the step-stool… Yoi was literally growing up before his eyes. It was a strange and magical feeling, but part of him was sad that Yuugi couldn’t live this with him too.

The rest of the day went just as smoothly as the morning, with Yoi playing with Atem and Anzu. Coloring sheets, children’s songs, silly dances, and a little nap. Atem even started up Yuugi’s beta of Duel Monsters’ World on the living room television and played around with fulfilling quests and favors for various monsters while Yoi looked on, excitedly pointing at the screen and asking to speak to various characters. Yuugi really had done a great job in creating such a soft and gentle world for younger players to enjoy.

Just before dinner, Atem called everyone up and they all collectively decided the order in which they would spend a day with Yoi, each of them marveling at how quickly Yoi had grown and would undoubtably continue to grow in the coming days.

Bathtime came around soon after dinner, this time with Atem taking the lead and Anzu giving him tips and pointers. She even made sure to film it all for Yuugi to watch later, her phone safely held behind Atem’s head where he couldn’t see it. This was sure to fluster him later, but she felt that his ire in twelve days’ time would be well worth the memories she was keeping stored on her phone.

The three of them went through the same bedtime ritual as the night before; getting Yoi into pajamas, tooth and hair brushing, story time, and finally bedtime, but now Atem was in charge of it all. He couldn’t help but feel a touch of pride at having learned so much and so quickly this time around. Perhaps… he thought as he fell asleep with Yoi snuggled in his arms, perhaps he could actually be a decent parent. Maybe.

Downstairs, Anzu handed her set of keys to Shizuka and left for the night, but not before reminding her younger friend to take as many pictures and videos of Atem and Yoi as possible. After all, it would be all that they would have left of the tiny tot once the twelve days were up.

Chapter Text

Shizuka had so many plans for her day with Yoi that she found herself awake and ready to go at the crack of dawn, but found that the boys themselves were still fast asleep. She busied herself around the house by getting breakfast ready and making a quick pack lunch for the three of them. Even if they ate lunch at home, she could still make it fun for Yoi by setting up an indoor picnic. After all, she had loved that sort of thing when she was little, so there was no reason for it not to work on this particular three year old! She even tidied up around the house a little, making sure that the tree was lit and swapping out toys that would be far too easy for Yoi now for more challenging ones.

Atem made his way down to the bathroom bleary-eyed and light-headed. It felt like he had cotton mouth from a night of drinking, and he felt stiff all over. Despite how comfortable Yuugi’s special edition Kuriboh cover CuddleSac was, a night snuggled up with a squirming child was enough to make sleep fleeting and comfort neigh impossible. He trudged into the bathroom, not even taking the time to look and see whether he was alone or not, and stood in front of the toilet to relieve himself. When the feeling finally came to him and he was relaxing all of the right muscles, a small voice piped up.

“Can I try that?”

He shook his head and sighed. Of course Yoi had snuck into the bathroom. That’s what he deserved for leaving him and not having the wits to lock the door as he had entered. Now there was a curiously determined three year old watching him pee with unabashed awe and amazement.

“Sure, you can try going to the bathroom like me,” Atem said as he finished off and dabbed the last drop of pee with a piece of toilet paper before closing the lid and flushing, “but I’m warning you Yoi, you have to focus, okay? No wiggling, and no squirming. Think you can manage it?”

The delighted look on the boy’s face as it lit up sent a thrilling rush through Atem’s veins, one that he had never felt before. It was an excited sort of pride that he hadn’t thought he could feel for such a silly little act…but he supposed that teaching Yoi how to grow up and learning how to teach him those skills was part of the thrill. He wondered if it would it feel just as rewarding with Yuugi by his side, or if all of these feelings would be lessened because he had already experienced these sorts of moments with Yoi.

Loki’s challenge now seemed to be a double edged sword.

Still, he washed his hands, grabbed the wooden step-stool from the kitchen, helped Yoi up, and watched him try. And just like that, his temporary son had hit another developmental milestone. Did they even have underwear small enough for a three year old? He would have to go and look…

Once Yoi was dressed and ready for the day, Shizuka took over for a while, her boundless enthousiasm coloring Yoi’s already excitable personality even more than usual. The two played a few board games designed for beginner learners and read The Snowman before Yoi insisted on going out and making his own. That hadn’t been a part of either of their plans for the day, but Yoi was so insistent that they go out to the park and make a magical snowman that Atem called in a favor. Soon enough, Mokuba had stopped by with snow clothes that would fit the tiny boy, and Atem set about dressing Yoi even as he squirmed with glee.

As they were leaving the house, Shizuka made sure to grab hold of Yoi’s hand and explain how important it was that he always hold her hand or Papa Atem’s when outside so that he wouldn’t get lost or hurt. Atem himself was locking up behind them and silently thanked his friend for her sage advice. Yoi seemed to listen more attentively to everyone else’s advice, preferring instead to test his boundaries with Atem.

“Then we can’t go until Papa Atem holds my hand too! I don’t want him to get lost.”

It was for this reason that Yoi’s statement struck him so thoroughly that he thought lightning had hit him. For the rest of their outing in the snow, Atem felt as warm as a summer’s day in Egypt.

Soon enough it was once again time for bedtime, and Shizuka said her goodbyes to Atem and Yoi. Yoi was old enough now that Atem could take care of the bedtime routine alone, and so with one last hug, she left the Mutou residence through the back door.

Atem readied Yoi, taking a bit of extra time to read him two books rather than just one, and tucked him into bed to sleep alone for the first time ever.

“I don’t want to sleep alone!” Yoi whined, clearly skeptical of the joys of sleeping in a bed alone.

“Tell you what,” Atem smiled, unable to get upset knowing that Yoi didn’t have any memory of ever sleeping alone at night. “How about you sleep in the big boy bed and I’ll stay next to you in the pouf?”

“Will you hold my hand?” Yoi asked back, clutching tightly to his Blue-Eyes blanket for emotional support.

Atem couldn’t help but chuckle as he rolled the CuddleSac over to the side of the bed. “Sorry Yoi, but I don’t think that will be the most comfortable thing for either of us. But know that I’ll be there if you need me.” He leaned down, gently kissed the boy on the forehead, tucked him in extra tight, and hopped up onto the pouf.

As he watched Yoi slowly fall asleep under the soft light of the moon filtering through Yuugi’s skylight, he prayed to never forget these simple moments. He drifted off to sleep not long after, wondering what Yuugi would have thought of the day’s events.

Chapter Text

Ryou came over after breakfast, once Atem had wrangled Yoi into some warm clothes, tossing some child-sized adjustable earmuffs on his head, a scarf around his neck, and some cute sparkly gloves on his hands. Yoi, he had realized the day before, had a penchant for theatrics and absolutely adored anything that shimmered and sparkled, which had worked out quite nicely the day before with the activities that Shizuka had brought over, but even Atem and Yuugi’s love of sparkly things was more subdued and tasteful. Atem chalked that up to their ancient Egyptian background and Yuugi’s more subdued and quiet personality.

The three of them headed to the park to check on Yoi’s snowman, who was insistent on making sure that it hadn’t magicked away during the night. Once there, Yoi found that a little girl, somewhere around his age, though perhaps a bit older, was rearranging his snowman’s clothes. He raced over there before Atem could remind him to be polite, worried yelling floating through the air and dying on the soft, snowy floor.

“That’s MY snowman you’re messing up!” Yoi cried. “Don’t hurt him or else he won’t be able to go and play with the other snowmen when the sun goes down!”

Atem jogged up just in time to see the girl ponder his little son’s words, a small frown gracing her pale face and rosy red cheeks. This was Yoi’s first interaction with a child about his age, and Atem worried that the lack of socialization would cause a scuffle, but Ryou kept a hand on his shoulder to stop him from jumping in.

“I was just fixing his hat and scarf. The wind blew them onto the floor when I got here,” she replied as she defiantly leaned back up to further adjust the snowman’s bonnet.

“Besides, only little kids believe in magic,” she continued a discerning eye looking Yoi up and down. “How old are you? I’m eight.”

Oh. Oh dear. This child was far older than Yoi despite her somewhat small stature. He felt Ryou’s grip tighten on his shoulder and saw the soft white of his friend’s hair shake back and forth from the corner of his eye. He had to let this interaction play out, regardless of his worry. The thought briefly crossed his mind as to how Yuugi would deal with such confrontation. He would have to ask him if he could still remember this particular event.

Yoi turned to Atem, frowning, and looked up expectantly. Atem held his breath. “How old am I Papa? I was three yesterday, right? I don’t feel three today.”

Ryou laughed at the sight of such a serious little boy, and Atem couldn’t help but chuckle as he squatted, leaning his forearms on his knees, to get down to the children’s level. “Good question Yoi.” He couldn’t help but admire his magical son’s critical thinking skills. Yoi had already caught on that something about him was different than the other people he recognized. “You were three yesterday, and today you’re four.”

“So it’s your birthday!” the girl cried with glee, a few stray strands of lavender-colored hair falling out from her fuzzy white hat. Yoi simply cocked his head to the side in confusion.

“But everyday is my birthday…?”

Ryou chuckled as he crouched down to face the children and nodded in agreement with Yoi’s statement. “Yup,” he said softly even as the girl scrunched her face in confusion. “Every day for the next eight days will be a birthday day. Isn’t that exciting Yoi?”

Yoi’s face lit up at that statement, and Atem’s heart warmed at the sight. It was concerning that Ryou was revealing these things to a child outside of their circle of friends, but he had to concede that it was best not to lie. Yoi was just as discerning as Yuugi, and it was dangerous to give Yoi any reason to try and figure out things that were best left alone.

“That’s not possible!” the girl retorted, all eight years of her vast knowledge of life backing her up in that instant. “You only get one birthday a year.”

“But tomorrow I’ll be five… So tomorrow is a birthday day again, right Ryou-nii?”

“You can’t be five tomorrow if you just became four today. That’s not how birthdays work,” the young girl sagely said. She would have been correct, if it weren’t for Loki’s magic.

Ryou and Atem shared a look before standing back up to busy themselves with Yoi’s snowman. The wind had taken a small chunk of snow out of its base. It was best to fix that before the entire thing collapsed. The last thing either of them wanted was for Yoi to cry when the day was going so well.

“See my eyes and hair,” Yoi whispered a little bit too excitedly in a vain attempt at not being heard. Atem pointedly ignored the fact that he could hear everything and stepped away to gather a bit more snow for the base of the snowman. “They’re all shimmery because there’s a magic spell on me… I get to grow up suuuuuuuper fast!” Atem did his best not to laugh as he spied Yoi throw his arms out around him for extra effect.

“No way.”

“Yes way!” Yoi grinned. “I promise I’m not lying. Papa says so.”

Once again, Atem kept his eyes glued on his work, contenting himself with being just within earshot as he watched the two children hop around each other, kicking snow into the air and watching it fall.

“I want proof,” the little girl replied.

Yoi’s face blanched at that statement. “How? I just…”

“Come play with me again,” she said simply, a small smile on her face. “Come back here in… three days. We’ll play together and make sure your snowman is okay.”

“Okay!”

By the end of the afternoon, Sumire had become Yoi’s first real friend, and just as her mother stood up from her bench to take the girl home, Sumire asked pointedly, “Yoi’s Papa? Is Yoi really magical?” The expectant look in her grey eyes told Atem everything he needed to know. The girl was trustworthy, and besides, even if she wasn’t, Yoi was in no real danger. He smiled silently and nodded, putting his index finger up to his lips.

“He is, but it’s a secret, okay?”

Ryou had already scooped Yoi up into his arms and was already at the entrance to the park. He needed to catch up to them. As Atem turned to make his way home, cold hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, he heard Sumire whisper to her mother: “Don’t tell anyone Mommy, but my new friend is magical! It’s a secret, okay?”

Chapter Text

Bakura’s shared apartment with Ryou and Anzu was strangely homey, Atem found upon walking in with Yoi in his arms. The only problem was having to walk up five flights of steps to get to it. Yoi had given up walking after the second flight, which had left Atem to carry his own and his son’s weight up the remaining flight of stairs. He unceremoniously dumped the growing boy onto the floor, slipped his shoes off, and collapsed onto their plum-colored couch.

“What, Pharaoh? Too many steps for you to climb?” Bakura laughed as he walked in holding a tray laden with mugs and a bowl of mixed, roasted nuts.

“Get back to me when you carry a child up three flights of stairs, squirming arms and all, Thief,” he laughed back, accepting the mug of freshly-brewed coffee handed to him.

“Pharaoh? Thief?”

The pair of young adults exchanged a look before turning to see curiosity painted all over Yoi’s now five year-old face. It was still round and adorable, but far less pudgy than in the previous two days. Atem simply nodded as he sipped at his coffee. Bakura had started it by falling into using their pet names for each other. It was up to him to get them out of that mess without revealing too much.

Instead of not revealing too much, however, Bakura threw himself into telling the tale of their previous lives, weaving it in such a way that made Atem completely forget how dangerous it was for Yoi to hear his real names, but Bakura was working well within the constraints necessary to keep Yuugi safe, until he let slip their dear friend’s name.

“Heba? That name feels familiar.”

Yoi’s comment alerted Atem immediately to what neither of them had noticed. Bakura had named Atem’s partner instead of referring to him in an off-handed way. He looked quickly to his son to see a flash of purple color his sparkling, starry eyes. Before he could even say anything, he heard Bakura’s easy reply.

“Well yeah, it does. That was Yuugi’s name back then.”

Bakura’s horrified gasp and wide eyes did nothing to save them from the fact that he had done what they had all promised not to do. Atem’s heart pounded in his head as he snatched Yoi from his spot on the floor and pressed him tightly against his chest. He needed to lie. He needed to lie quickly so that Yuugi would be kept safe.

“I know that name too…” Yoi said quietly; thoughtfully.

This was their only chance at keeping the spell going without causing undue harm to Yuugi. Atem took a deep, shaky breath, placed Yoi into his lap, and did his best not to let the young boy hear the wavering of his voice.

“Of course you do, Yoi. That’s because Yuugi is your other father.”

The flash of violet that was slowly overwhelming the golden hue of Yoi’s eyes stopped as the boy scrunched his face up in that thought-filled way he usually did when faced with a big, difficult problem. Atem held his breath and prayed that Yoi would accept the lie.

“Then why haven’t I seen him? You’re the only one at home, and no one else has talked about uhhhm… Yuugi…”

Yoi spoke his own name as if he were choking on it, chewing it like a piece of meat that had been cut just a bit too big for him to chew and process. Bakura made to speak but Atem put his hand up to silence him. Bakura had gotten them into this mess, but it was Atem’s responsibility to keep Yoi and Yuugi safe.

“Because my partner has been out on a very important business trip, and none of us wanted to worry you about his disappearance in your life. Daddy Yuugi loves you very much, and he’s excited to come home soon.”

The shimmering gold grew stronger as the violet slowly began to recede from Yoi’s eyes.

“Really?”

“Really really.”

“Really really really?”

“Yoi,” Atem chuckled, his chest still tight from the stress, his blood still pounding painfully in his ears. “Have I ever lied to you?”

“No…”

The look of guilt on Yoi’s little face at not believing his father made Atem melt. He needed to keep going with this. The lie needed to be completely and utterly foolproof.

“Remember how Anzu and Shizuka explained the magic spell that was cast on you?”

“Yes…”

“Well, it happened right after Daddy Yuugi left on his trip, so even he has no idea that you’re growing up so fast.”

The tightness in his chest let up as he watched Yoi’s eyes go from being a third violet to having just a speck of Yuugi’s glittering amethyst color. Yoi was accepting the lie. It was working.

“But how come? We video chat with everyone every day!”

“That’s because Yuugi is off in a place that doesn’t have any cellular signal,” Bakura said, taking the pressure off of Atem for that answer. “He’s a game developper, you know. I’m sure that your Papa has already showed you one of the games that he’s working on.”

“The Duel Monsters one! With the friendly magician and the sparkly dragon queen!” Yoi exclaimed, bouncing up and down on Atem’s knee. “I love that game! Daddy Yuugi made it?”

“Yes, and he’s out doing more research for his games alllll the way in Egypt. He’s probably staying at an archeological dig. There’s no cell phone reception deep in the desert you know.”

Yoi nodded sagely at the words of his elder, all traces of violet having been wiped from his shimmering, golden eyes. Atem breathed a sigh of relief even as he felt the guilt of lying to his beloved child.

“When will Daddy Yuugi come home? I want to see him! I want to talk to him all about his game and help him with it!”

Bakura sipped at his coffee and pointed with his head towards Atem, who made a show of fishing his phone out of his pocket to look at the calendar and count down the days with Yoi.

“He’ll be home the morning of the sixth. Today is the twenty-ninth, so you need to wait seven more days. Can you do that for us?”

“I can! I can!” Yoi cried out in glee. He hopped off of his father’s knee and jumped up and down excitedly. “Can we have a party for him? Can we? Can we?”

“A welcome home party?” Atem asked, all worry having dissipated at the sight of his bouncy boy gleefully hopping about the room and throwing his arms out into the air.

“YES! We need paper! And crayons! I want to plan it!”

“Alright, pipsqueak, but only if you let us help you,” Bakura responded. “This better be the best surprise party he’s ever been to, alright?”

“Yaaaaaaay!!!”

And so the rest of the day was spent planning out Yuugi’s surprise welcome home party. All of Yoi’s crazy ideas were included, as Atem couldn’t possibly turn down any one of them, so excited and happy was his tiny little star.

That night, as Atem was tucking his son into bed, Yoi pushed away the two bedtime books he would usually ask for and looked up expectantly, his unwavering gaze reminding Atem of Yuugi’s strength and determination.

“Bakura-nii never finished his story,” Yoi said rather plainly. “Can you finish it instead of reading me a book?”

Atem sat down on the floor next to the bed and let himself lean over the side of the mattress to caress Yoi’s head, his fingers lightly threading through the shimmering spikes he had grown to love. “I can, but it’ll have to be told from my point of view… Bakura and I lived different moments with your other father. Is that alright?”

“I just want to know more…” Yoi nodded as a yawn overtook his words, “Tell me more about you and Daddy Yuugi…”

He couldn’t help but worry, but Atem acquiesced, beginning at the start and weaving the tale of two boys, each destined for greatness and dogged with a painful fate, until Yoi’s eyes closed despite his best efforts at remaining awake and his breathing evened out to a restful sleep.

Chapter Text

Mokuba sat at the kitchen island with Yoi, the two of them leaning over and discussing all of the plans that had been made for Yuugi’s surprise party. When he and the others had heard from Atem the previous night, it hadn’t been the usual video chat with Yoi, but one in which the energetic ball of glittering spikes was markedly absent. Atem had informed them of the lie he had had to tell Yoi in order to protect Yuugi. Everyone was, quite rightfully, angry and upset that he and Bakura hadn’t been as careful as they should have been, but none were as upset as Seto. Mokuba had chalked it up to his brother’s deep love of family and what it represented, but he had a hard time pinpointing the issue that Seto was really hung up on when it came to Yoi.

Had it been the fact that Atem and Bakura had been careless, or was it due to the fact that because of that carelessness they all had to keep up Atem’s lie?

For someone who bent the truth when it suited his needs, Seto Kaiba was a man who absolutely hated lying. That was probably why Mokuba could pick apart any lie his brother tried to get away with, no matter how small. This uncanny skill of his was what had enabled him to help deceive Gozaburo and set him up for failure without Seto even having to explain his tactic. Mokuba just knew.

“Mokuba-nii…” Mokuba looked up from the mess of papers Yoi had splayed out over the counter to see the six year old squirming in his seat as he kneeled, craning his head this way and that way as he looked about in all directions. “Where are your parents? Do you have two dads like me?”

Mokuba blinked in shock as he stared at the starry-eyed boy next to him, all innocence and smiles. He might be much older than Yoi, but this conversation was now veering into something that made him distinctly uncomfortable. Talking about parents in any capacity had always made Mokuba feel awkward and guilty. Guilty for having been a burden on his brother, guilty for having never hated another living being as much as the man that had been willing to house, clothe, feed, and tutor them, guilty for having mercilessly joined in and played his part to perfection in the death of said parental figure… Even if Seto readily took the weight of such actions onto himself, Mokuba knew that he was just as guilty as his brother. There was blood on his hands.

“I… uhhhh… Our parents are dead.” There. He said it. Blunt as it was, he had blurted it out like a baby desperate to say its first words.

Wide-eyed and shocked, Yoi flung himself onto the older boy, lacing his arms around Mokuba’s neck and squeezing as tightly as possible. Garbled sorrys muffled by Mokuba’s blue and white jumper filled the space around them, and it was all that he could to do hold the six year old as he felt the puddle of tears slowly seep into his clothing and moisten his skin.

“It’s okay Yoi… Really. I promise. Seto and I are fine by ourselves,” he whispered soothingly as the sorrys slowly dissolved into hiccups, then into sniffles.

“Really?” Yoi finally asked as he squeezed Mokuba’s neck as tightly as possible, as though he were trying to infuse his elder with as much love as possible. “I cried… because I would be so lonely.”

It was in times like these that the group would be rightly shocked at the maturity and empathy of the small, magical boy in their midsts. Yuugi’s knowledge and personality still managed to shine through, despite Loki’s best efforts at keeping it locked away deep within Yoi’s psyche. Death wasn’t a concept that Yoi had ever heard or learned about in his five-or-so days of living, and yet he seemed to perfectly understand the concept. Mokuba pried the boy off of his chest, sat him down properly in his lap, and wiped his eyes and cheeks dry of their precious tears.

“Don’t cry for me, okay? I’ve never been alone. Seto’s been with me. And you’ll never be alone either. Papa Atem is here for you.”

“But what if he leaves like Daddy Yuugi did?”

Oh. Oh. Does he think that Yuugi is dead, Mokuba thought grimly. To a certain extent, it was a bit like that. Yoi couldn’t possibly exist without Yuugi, but Yuugi couldn’t possibly be there due to Yoi. Instead of trying to deal with the situation alone, he called out instead, praying that his brother and magically-related cousin would hear him over their obvious bickering in the lounge across the hall.

A quiet descended on the house, and a few moments later Atem’s head popped into view, his khôl slightly smuged and the whites of his eyes somewhat red. Yoi clambered off of Mokuba at the sight and threw himself into his father’s arms. “You promised no crying Papa!!! You said Daddy was coming back! He’ll come back, and we’ll have a party all together, right? Right!?”

“Right.”

The solidity of Atem’s voice was questionable, but Mokuba knew that it was only because he was able to detect those little white lies with such practiced ease. His heart clenched painfully as he contemplated Atem’s dilemma. It was clear that he had grown quite attached to Yoi, but he also missed Yuugi. Either way, only one of them could stay, and Mokuba, though he hadn’t experienced it first-hand, knew how poorly Atem had reacted the last time that he had been cut off from his soulmate.

“You can’t have your cake and eat it too, Atem,” Mokuba said quietly as his gaze crossed Atem’s.

“Nuh-uh!” Yoi responded, his gaze fiercely set between the two. “It’s simple. You bake the cake, cut a slice, and you eat that. The rest is for sharing.”

Atem had walked into the Kaiba mansion feeling depressed and stretched thin, but hearing Yoi’s very matter-of-fact statement on how to have and eat cake just tipped him over the edge and into a pit of delirious laughter that forced more tears down his cheeks, a tarry river slowly engulfing them. Of course his precious little light would say something so perfectly natural. He couldn’t help but hear Yuugi calling out to him, soothing that ache in the deepest part of his soul. There was a part of Yoi that was undeniably, painfully similar to his partner, and it made the knowledge of Yoi’s existence all the more agonizing for him.

Loki’s challenge was a double-edged sword, and Atem had already been cut by one side of the blade.

“Sorry to ask you to come here so soon,” Mokuba said over the din of Atem’s pained laughter. “Yoi got us on the subject of parents and I thought you would want to help with the conversation before it got out of hand.”

Atem nodded gratefully as he quickly wiped away the khôl that had streamed down his cheeks with the tissue Mokuba handed him. He really should have avoided putting on any make-up that morning, knowing how crummy he felt. Now was not the time to fall apart. Yoi was watching. His child was watching, learning, feeling. He needed the time to decompress and get it all out, but right now he had to bury those feelings of disconnected loneliness, of drowning emptiness, of suffocating silence within his heart and mind, and focus on Yoi.

“What do you want to know, Yoi?” came his answer, calm and easy and generous with its warmth and love. He picked up the boy, Yoi’s arms coming unglued from his waist, and hoisted him into his arms, holding the weight of his still small son easily on his left arm as he circled his right hand to pat the shimmering golden-tipped spikes from behind. “Did you have a question about me and Daddy?”

Yoi looked to Mokuba for a brief moment before setting his gaze decidedly back on Atem, his voice clear and bright as he leaned over and whispered into his father’s ear, “Mokuba-nii and Seto-nii don’t have any parents. Mokuba sounds sad. I don’t want to ask and make him cry, but…”

Atem watched his younger friend as he listened to Yoi’s whispers in the oppressive silence of the kitchen. Mokuba seemed to know exactly where this was going and motioned for Atem to come and sit beside him. This would be a difficult conversation, one which he had only briefly spoken to Anzu and Shizuka about on their days together, but one that he had played over and over in his mind since then, dreading the day that Yoi would finally bring it up.

Where to begin…

“Mokuba is willing to talk to you about his parents. Do you feel alright talking about it, Yoi? Sometimes curiosity isn’t enough to make you feel comfortable talking about something… Does it make you feel sad and lonely? If it hurts too much, we can talk about other things instead.”

“No,” Yoi stated resolutely, “I want to if you want to.” With a gentle nod of their heads, Atem and Mokuba waited patiently for Yoi’s question.

“What happened after your parents died? Did they leave you in this biiiiiig house all by yourselves? Did anyone take care of you? Were you all alone?”

Mokuba gritted his teeth as he did his best to gently explain the concept of an orphanage and watched as Yoi’s golden eyes glimmered with barely held back tears. “You stayed there for how long? The person who gave you this house is your new parent, right?” He held his breath as Atem looked at him with pleading eyes. There was no need for him to continue the conversation. He could end it right there… He could let Atem take over and leave to bury his face in Seto’s chest and cry…but Yoi was looking at him with those eyes, Yuugi’s eyes. Gentle, understanding, warm, and patient. The eyes of one who had lived many things and felt for those who had lived things he never would. The thought briefly flittered through Mokuba’s head that perhaps this was Yuugi’s way of getting closer to him, through Yoi. Of bearing Mokuba’s sadness upon his shoulders as he did with Seto.

He couldn’t find it in himself to say no.

Instead, Mokuba told him the tale of Gozaburo Kaiba, the man who gave them their name, and ultimately, their power and company, all because Seto had won a game of chess against him. He made sure to cut out the physical violence and emotional damage their adoptive father had forced them to live through, only alluding to it briefly by saying that the man was not as kind as either brother had hoped a father to be. When his tale was done, he held his breath and watched as Yoi buried himself further into Atem’s arms and whispered the question that Atem was undoubtedly dreading to answer…

“Am I adopted too?”

The breath that Atem had been holding back released all at once, whoosing from his mouth and out above Yoi’s head, rustling his spiky locks as their tips shimmered from the light and movement. I can’t tell him the truth… I’m lying to him again… Let him down easy, Aibou, was his plea to the other half of him who was so deep in slumber that Atem’s words would never reach him.

“You are.”

“Will you leave me?”

“I won’t.”

“How can you promise that?”

Atem’s chest clenched painfully as he looked down at the tiny soul nestled in his arms. How could he promise that? He and Yuugi were bound by their souls, an unbreakable love and devotion that no god could ever interfere with again…but Yoi? Yoi was different; special. Yoi was the one who was going to leave him, and the thought of the inevitable struck him so hard that he found it hard to breathe or think. He shook his head wistfully and kept his eyes on Yoi’s, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“Because I choose to be your father. Every single day, I wake up and choose to guide you through life until Ra’s fading light marks the end of your adventures for the day. And every single night, I go to sleep thinking about how I can guide you all the better when your eyes open once more.”

Something deep and dark and knowing shimmered in back of Yoi’s eyes, and before Atem could respond to it unending rivers of tears swept down the tiny boy’s cheeks like a dreadful flood, their violence rending Yoi unable to do much else but sob and cough as he inhaled the salty deluge.

“I never got to choose you… but if I could have, I would have chosen you…”

Those words, wise beyond their years, echoed in Atem’s mind as he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss on Yoi’s forehead and wiped away his tears, shushing and rocking him until all of the feelings of sadness had washed away with his tears. What a blessing it was to be loved, not only by his other half, but by this tiny soul. As he held Yoi tightly in his arms, he willed himself to remember the feeling filling him, the very moment he was living with this child. He hoped and prayed never to forget it, and that he would once again, in the future, when he and Yuugi were truly ready to be parents, feel this same love and joy.

“Thank you, my little star.”

Chapter Text

Jounouchi was raring to go. It didn’t matter that the sun was barely peaking over the horizon, or that the snow was so thick on the ground that it made riding his motorcycle pretty much impossible. He trudged through the snow, a goofy grin on his face as he turned the corner, bringing the Game Shop into view. It had been six days since he had last seen Atem and Yoi in person. Six! This was his shot at really spending some one-on-one time with his tiny best buddy.

It didn’t matter what his name was. Heba, Yuugi, Yoi… None of that mattered. All that mattered was that they had always been best friends. Reincarnation hadn’t changed that, so why would a little mindwipe or a wider age-gap?

He snuck into the house like a thief, silent and with purpose. Leaving his shoes at the front door, he made his way to the kitchen to whip up Yuugi’s favorite western-style breakfast: pancakes. Half an hour later, the batter was done and resting, leaving him to prepare the rest of the ingredients before he could wake them.

When he had finished cutting the fruit and set it aside, he uncovered the bowl of batter and mixed it some more with the ladle, checking the thickness and turning down the heat of the stovetop. He was just about to pour a nice ladleful of batter into the frying pan when he spied a flurry of black and shimmering golden dashing for him out of the corner of his eyes. If it hadn’t been for that slight tell, he, along with the bowl of pancake batter he was holding, would have ended up on the floor.

Luckily for Jounouchi, he had had just enough time to sloppily throw the bowl and ladle onto the counter, its contents sloshing dangerously close to the edge, before feeling an unbearably tight squeeze around his torso. He leaned down and squeezed back, reveling in the warmth of the hug that had been offered to him. He and Yuugi had always been close, but rare were the hugs that either of them gave or received. Jounouchi chalked that up to how his father had ingrained in him the need to be ‘manly’ at all times. What a fat load of bull that had ended up being. It was only now that he had regained his memories of his past life that he could really appreciate how twisted his father’s alcoholism was.

“Good morning lil’ buddy!” he laughed as he watched Yoi bury his face deeper into the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

“Good morning Jou-nii!!!” Yoi chirped, pulling away and quickly turning to face the stove. “What’re you making?”

“Your— I mean, Yuugi’s favorite American-style breakfast.” Jounouchi mentally slapped himself for almost revealing the crux of the magic spell. It was so difficult for him not to think of Yoi as just a tiny version of Yuugi, especially since the child was literally using his friend’s body! “You’re going to need a ton of energy to do what we’ve got planned for the day,” he quickly continued, hoping that the now seven-year-old was not as perceptive as his missing father.

Yoi simply turned back to face his much older friend and cocked his head to the side in thought. Jounouchi held his breath for a brief moment before shaking out his nerves and teaching Yoi how to make pancakes. There hadn’t been even a speck of violet in Yoi’s eyes. What Mokuba had told him over the phone the night before still stood. Yoi had been successfully convinced that Yuugi was a separate person altogether, and talking about him didn’t seem to affect the child in the slightest, other than to put the unavailable parent on a lofty pedestal.

Atem jumped down from the stairs two at a time, feeling a bit more emotionally refreshed after having spent the majority of the previous afternoon arguing with Seto. Now that they both had all of their memories and their relationship wasn’t just boiled down to being mere gaming rivals, Atem was able to be more forthcoming and honest with his emotions. Without Yuugi there to bounce his thoughts back to, Seto was the next best person, and he greatly appreciated his cousin’s fierce, unscrupulous nature. Whatever Seto had to say, he said it without any flash or pomp. His scathing honesty was honestly what was helping keep Atem from falling apart without Yuugi by his side.

Breakfast went better than usual, partially because Yoi wasn’t required to use chopsticks in order to eat. A knife and fork were better suited to eating an American-style meal, and Atem couldn’t help but laugh alongside Jounouchi as the seven year old practically inhaled his food like a Marshmallon would. Cleaning up and getting ready for the day went much quicker also, and Atem was left wondering if that was because of Jounouchi’s boundless energy.

Once all three of them were ready to go, Jounouchi sat on the couch with a blank paper lying on the coffee table, and drew up what he called a ‘battle plan’ to make the idea of cleaning the entire house in a day more fun for Yoi. With it being New Year’s Eve, and with Grandpa out of the house on a trip with Yuugi’s parents, it had been hard for Atem to keep the house clean all by himself, let alone attempt to complete the deep clean that was a yearly ritual for a typical Japanese household. Jounouchi knew that Yuugi had intended to teach him how to do it without too much hassle, but with him out of the picture, Katsuya knew that he had to take charge or else it would never get done. There was no way that he was going to let his best friends get in trouble with their old man for something as silly as cleaning the house!

With the battle plan all drawn up, Atem took to dusting everything in the house while Jounouchi and Yoi worked on cleaning the bathroom together. At the beginning there was more water play than actual cleaning, but once the two of them were thoroughly soaked, they got to work. After a quick change of clothes, the kitchen was next, and Atem helped them move the appliances out from against the wall so that even that part of the floor could be cleaned. When it came time to tackle scrubbing down the inside of the oven, Atem removed the metal shelves and Yoi clambered in, hysterical laughter echoing out from inside each and every time that Jounouchi attempted to close the oven door as he and Atem painstakingly scrubbed the countertops and cupboard shelves. From there Jounouchi and Yoi worked on organizing and clearing up the livingroom and bedrooms while Atem vacuumed. They took a quick lunch break, then the three of them tackled waxing the floors and putting on any laundry that needed doing. With all of that work done, they collapsed on the couch in a heap of aching and sore limbs, their muscles pulsating painfully from the frantic overexersion that had been required to deep clean the entire house in one day.

“In all of my time with Yuugi, never did the house get clean this quickly,” Atem sighed, his head perfectly cushioned between Jounouchi’s belly and a stack of pillows that the three of them had dragged out of the closet to shake and fluff. “Even with three people, him, Grandpa, and Mama, they normally spent two or three days cleaning…”

Jounouchi snickered with the knowledge of why they had taken their time. Atem was going to feel horrendously sore for the next few days. He, however, had been working out rather regularly, and so this much exertion wasn’t going to leave him in too much pain. The thought of how Yoi’s body would hold up after such a physically straining day had occurred to him, but he tried not to worry too much about it. After all, if the boy was literally growing at the rate of one year per day, he should technically be able to sleep off the soreness and be good to go the next morning.

It wasn’t until the two young adults heard Yoi’s gentle snoring that they realized how late it was. The sun had already set and the day was already done. Somehow they had managed to eat two meals in the day, but had skipped the third in their zeal to wax the floors as perfectly as possible.

Atem heaved his stone-heavy body up and off of the couch, bent down, picked Yoi up off of Jounouchi, and brought him upstairs. After such a hard day’s work, it was time for bed.

As he laid the sleeping boy down and tucked him into bed, Atem prayed to all of the gods that could hear him for the rest of Yoi’s days to be as filled with laughter and fun as this one.

Chapter Text

Otogi had found himself at the Mutou residence far earlier than he was really meant to be, but that was fine. Jounouchi had called him up and invited him to swap places with him for the night in exchange for buying them a few beers. It was New Year’s, and things felt strangely glum without Yuugi around and with Yoi being too young to party like the rest of the group, so Otogi found himself agreeing to buy a six-pack of the fanciest beer down by the combini before heading up the street and into the house through the back entrance.

He walked into the livingroom to see Atem and Jounouchi sitting side by side on the couch, hair wet and dripping onto the towels draped over their shoulders, and wearing surprisingly clean clothes for having spent the day doing the yearly osougi. What a bunch of slackers, he thought as he placed the beers on the coffee table and sat down beside them.

“Y’know, if Grandpa Mutou is anything like my father, he would’ve thoroughly cleaned the shop too,” he threw out there to two very annoyed grunts of acknowledgement as he reached into the carton to grab a beer bottle.

“Can it Ryuuji,” Jounouchi snapped, “you didn’t have to deep clean an entire house while also making it feasible and fun for a seven year old…” Atem nodded quietly as he reached into the box and pulled out two beers, handing one to Jounouchi, who continued. “Besides, with everything that’s happened over here, I’m sure that Yuugi’s grandfather will be understanding.”

“And he’s not freaking out about his precious grandson having a body and mind-altering spell cast on him?” Otogi took his keys out of his pocket, flipped to his sleek black Swiss army knife and pulled out the bottle opener. “I mean, come on, there’s no way you could pretend to be him. I know you called him Christmas day.”

He tossed his keys to Atem, who spoke after taking a lengthy swig from his bottle. “Grandpa is not a man who is easily upset by such things. Having his memories from his prior life as my head priest has stopped him from worrying too much about us.”

“Yeah,” Jounouchi nodded, standing up and walking to the sliding glass door that let out to the back balcony. “Worse things have happened. At least in this case we know it’s not life-threatening or permanent. Now, you gonna help us clean up the balcony? There’s no way Yoi is gonna sit outside in the freezing cold for an hour to watch the sun come up unless we make it as cozy and snow-free as possible. The kid climbed into the oven and claimed he liked the warmth it gave off!”

Otogi sighed even as he heard Atem’s subdued chuckle, combed his fingers through his raven hair, making sure to catch any stray bits that would usually frame his face, and retied it all into a bun at the back of his head. Looking drop-dead gorgeous was not a requirement for shoveling snow, especially in a house full of men that weren’t the least bit interested in him romantically.

Atem woke up to the blaring call of Yuugi’s cellphone alarm, a constant loop of ‘Happy New Year!’ drilling itself over and over into his head. He fumbled for the phone as it lay in his blanket-covered lap and quickly turned off the alarm with a press of a button. Through bleary eyes he spied the time: six thirty in the morning. The curtain of night was still pulled tightly over the sky, and Atem couldn’t help but wonder what Yuugi’s plan had been for them to be waking up so early.

He thought back to when the group had met in early December to discuss their holiday plans. It was then that Yuugi had quickly proclaimed that he and Atem were doing something together for Hatsuhinode. His partner had sounded so sure of himself that no one had bothered to question it, nor to make plans as a group. When Atem had enquired about what their plans were supposed to be, Yuugi had simply winked at him in that cheeky, teasing way of his, had said quite simply: “It’s a surprise,” and had stubbornly remained silent on the subject ever since. In fact, his plans were so secretive that Atem had been unable to find a trace of them in their shared room once Yoi had come into the picture.

The very thought of spending his first New Year’s Day alive without Yuugi by his side to welcome in Ra’s first light was heart wrenching and made him feel even emptier than the past few days. No longer being able to feel the warmth of Yuugi’s soul brushing against his made it almost impossible to forget that Yuugi wasn’t sharing these amazing and wonderful moments of Yoi’s life with him. It was for that very reason that he was so thankful for Ryuuji’s ability to break away from his previous plans to spend the day with them.

Luckily for Atem, Yoi was a much heavier sleeper than Yuugi had ever been, and so he successfully snuck out of the bedroom and down the stairs without worry. Once downstairs, he found that Otogi was already up and awake despite their late night and the beers they had shared. They sat at the kitchen counter, their slippered feet resting carefully on their stools. Companiable silence surrounded them, the only sound between them being the occasional sip of coffee.

When it was about twenty to seven, Atem and Ryuuji got up and began dressing in their warmest winter clothes. Atem went back upstairs into the darkness of his and Yuugi’s bedroom and couldn’t help but smile as his gaze fell upon tiny Yoi’s curled up figure in their large bed. He pulled out all of the necessary winter clothes for Yoi’s new, larger size, tossed them gently onto the foot of the bed, and sat beside his sleeping son. For a moment he lost himself in the soft sound of Yoi’s deep breathing, in the gentle smile that the young boy had as he no doubt dreamt amazing dreams. Atem hoped that Yoi was dreaming of Yuugi, that somehow their innate connection would allow them to at least meet in the world of dreams, and he found that he hated the idea of waking Yoi should that be the case. Still, he leaned down from his perch on the bed and brushed a few stray strands of hair out of his son’s sleeping face and behind his ear, bidding him to rise and greet the new year.

Never before had Atem heard so much whining come out of such a tiny mouth. It was even more grating than Mana’s whining had ever been! He briefly wondered if he would go crazy should he be forced to listen to this sort of shrill and drawn out whining on a daily basis as a part of a daily school routine… Still, regardless of the heaping amount of awful noise filling the air, Yoi seemed to be dutifully following Atem’s instructions, so he couldn’t be too upset… but regardless of that he categorized the whining as a definite issue for him. Not only did it seem to stress him out, as he wanted nothing more than for Yoi to grow up happy and loved, but it also seemed to push all of the wrong buttons, forcing him to bite his tongue so that he wouldn’t snap at the boy. Surely multiple days in a row of that sort of behavior would bring out Atem’s more impatient, commanding side, and that was not a side that was as friendly to impressionable children…

By the time Yoi was dressed and ready to go outside, the whining had stopped and his son had become far less groggy than before. Atem guided Yoi out to the balcony, where Otogi had put up a ladder to the roof and thrown a few blankets onto the partially frozen tiles. With Yoi safely up the ladder and sitting next to Ryuuji, Atem headed up as well, taking his place next to his now eight year old son.

The three lone humans huddled up together, draping a few more blankets around their backs and legs in order to trap in as much body heat as possible. By seven ten the first rays of the sun were beginning to peak out from under the horizon. Their rooftop view, although a tad disrupted by the spires of skyscrapers dotting the landscape, was still beautifully breathtaking. In the chill of the winter morning, nothing moved or breathed but them, the frozen earth sleeping in its snowy embrace as the sun slowly rose up into the sky, breathing life into every part of the world that the light touched.

“Happy New Year, Yoi, Atem,” Otogi said as he turned to look at the two. “May this new year bring us all fulfillment and happiness.”

Atem nodded as Yoi chirped a happy reply, cooing in awe at the majestic sky that Ra’s early morning rays were painting for the world to see. Hatsuhinode was nothing like Wepet Renpet, but Atem found that he could get used to a quieter, more introspective celebration. Still, he couldn’t help but think that it would be nice to celebrate both ways. He nudged the young boy sitting next to him, and asked: “I think you’re old enough for me to teach you about my culture and how I grew up, all of those thousands of years ago. This is how we celebrate the new year in Japan, but do you know how we would celebrate in Khemet?”

He watched as Yoi hunched over in thought, keeping his eyes glued to the rising sun and the gorgeous hues of oranges, reds, purples, and pinks that painted the sky. If Atem looked closely enough, he could have sworn that he saw a flash of violet flicker through Yoi’s eyes, but it was so quick that it could have easily been his eyes deceiving him. After a minute, he had his response: “I… think so? Was there lots of drinking? And a big festival? It’s a bit fuzzy…”

Atem’s heart sung in joy at the knowledge that Yoi had tried to pull from Yuugi’s memories to fill his own gaps. He draped his left arm over Yoi’s shoulders and began, “Well, in Khemet we welcome the sun and the new year like this…”

Sharing his knowledge and customs with his child was a joy that Atem definitely wished to experience again and again.

That night, Yoi groaned as he rolled out of bed, smacking his lips and rubbing his tongue around in his mouth, desperate to get any amount of moisture into it. His mouth was as parched as if he had slept with it open, but he knew that wasn’t the case, so why did everything feel so dry? Standing back up, he groped absentmindedly for the cup he had left on the desk, letting the feeling of slimy moistness overtake his cotton-dry mouth once he had gulped down the rest of the water.

He was starting to feel better, but more water wouldn’t hurt. He trudged down the stairs, his eyes gradually adjusting to the light that was filtering in from the living room as he heard the voices of his father and friends.

“Wait a sec, Atem,” Jounouchi’s voice drifted through the air, “so you’re saying that Yoi can access Yuug’s memories?”

“Should we be concerned? This isn’t going to hurt Yuugi in the end, is it?” Yoi stopped in his tracks and sat down, leaning his head against the wall closest to the livingroom as he heard Ryou and Bakura’s questions. They were talking about him. Yuugi. Suddenly his intense desire to drink more water had faded into nothingness, replaced only with a strong, unplaceable need to hear more about whatever this discussion was about.

He sat there and tried to listen quietly, his head pounding violently as he attempted to make sense of what his father and friends were saying. They only had to worry for four days? After that… none of them had said anything about what would happen after that, not that he could even really hear it anymore. The pounding of his head had made it too hard to concentrate on anything else.

Yoi, reeling from nausea, slowly climbed the stairs, put the still empty cup back on the desk, and crawled back into bed. That night he lay awake, his mind a blur of thoughts and feelings that were his and weren’t all at once, until fatigue and a strange need to change somehow overcame him.

Chapter Text

Honda had always considered himself the big planner of the group. Any outings, parties, or events that occurred within their social circle were generally set up and headed by him. It gave him something to feel accomplished for, considering that the rest of this friends led such busy lives. Of course, anything that started out as an idea of the Kaiba brothers made things difficult for him, as Seto in particular always insisted that he wanted things done the ‘correct way’ just to have a subtle jab at the others and keep his status as an aloof member of the group. It was in cases like that that his growing friendship with Isono gave him access to helping set up anything that he as a ‘plain person of no interest’ could do.

All considering it was actually quite hard to feel useful once the Battle City tournament had taken place. Everyone around him had been elevated to some sort of strange, powerful position that he wasn’t privy to, and that feeling of not quite measuring up to the others became even more pronounced when Yuugi had revealed his past life as an Egyptian and had revived Anzu and Jounouchi’s latent memories of their past lives with him. That meant that he, as one of the original four in their group, was the only one who wasn’t special somehow, and
within their wider group of friends, he and Shizuka were the only two who were what he considered to be ‘normal,’ that is, no prestige, no magical background or past life, and no power.

It was for this very reason that Yoi’s unexpected arrival had made Honda into the unofficial director of events for the magical child’s activities. When Atem had expressed how overwhelmed and out of his element he felt at the notion of caring for a child that would magically age at a rate that he couldn’t possibly keep up with, it was Honda who had offered for everyone to pitch in. When that had been decided, Honda was the one who had snatched Jounouchi’s shiny, tech-laden Kaiba Corp. exclusive phone and created a shared document with lists of fun and interesting things for them to do with Yoi as the days went on. He had even organized it by age and ability level, and each item was color-coded based on the price of admission/execution. For multi-step or complicated activities, he had even gone so far as to list all of the items necessary to make the activity work. By the end of Yoi’s second day alive, Kaiba had personally handed him a Kaiba Corp. phone of his own, the chestnut brown light radiating from the cracks in the sleek black casing as he transferred his SIM card data onto the one-of-a-kind cellphone.

The phone was a tacit reminder that he, Hiroto Honda, was an indispensable member of their group, and despite not making a fuss when Seto had handed it to him, he spent the next ten minutes texting everyone other than Kaiba to gloat.

So when it came time for Honda to make his way to the Mutou household, he was more than prepared to help Atem keep his kid happy and give them the time they needed. Breakfast was slow and relaxing, and Yoi jumped down the steps two at a time when he finally woke up. Atem mentioned something about letting Yoi sleep in and that he wasn’t a morning person. “In fact, he’s more like a cat,” Atem had said, causing Yoi to roll on the floor laughing as he did the worst fake purr imaginable.

When it came time for the three of them to actually do something, Honda gave Yoi carte blanche to choose whatever he’d like to do from the list. Yoi painstakingly went through the list of choices, calling out each and every activity he had already done with other members of their group, his voice a wafting through the air like a bird’s happy morning melody. Right underneath Mokuba’s choice of indoor amusement park Honda had listed quite simply The Geode. He hadn’t thought to include any other information because everyone knew what it was, but sure enough, that unknown had piqued Yoi’s interest.

“What’s The Geode?” was the question that rang out into the house as Yoi stopped wiggling and looked up from his place on the floor. Honda looked to Atem who simply pulled out his phone and looked it up.

“It’s a 360° movie theater?” Atem half-asked, choosing to project the screen so that Yoi could see the official website.

“That means that you can see a movie in all directions around you, Yoi.” Honda said as he pointed to the large white dome against the blue sky in the image. “Imagine that you sit in the center of the dome and the video is projected all around you. They usually show educational movies and documentaries. You can see anything from underwater, to space, to flight, to earth exploration types of things. Does that sound like fun?”

Yoi’s huge grin and bright, shining eyes seemed to say yes, so Honda continued on by scrolling down the webpage floating before them and finding the movies being shown that day. When Yoi had finally picked one, the three were able to plan the rest of the day around it.

By three twenty in the afternoon, Atem stood outside The Geode with Honda and Yoi, the impressively tall structure looming above them like a giant egg, though Honda likened it more to a golf ball due to its more crystalline structure. He had seen plenty of skyscrapers before, but this was the first modern structure that really impressed Atem, and he briefly wondered why Yuugi hadn’t thought to bring him there before. He followed Honda as they made their way down a few flights of stairs to the entrance at the bottom of the immense white sphere, Yoi hopping excitedly between them.

Yoi had chosen an ocean documentary and Atem couldn’t help but feel a certain amount of giddiness himself at the prospect of seeing what secrets the deep held, especially in a gloriously realistic 360°, high definition video. Honda bought the tickets and Atem grabbed a few little snacks at the outdoor concession stand before the three of them walked into the dome. It was then that Atem heard a gentle voice in the overwhelming darkness of the theater:

“Hey Papa…” The tug at the bottom hem of his shirt was something that he couldn’t ignore, even as he was looking up and all around them, taking in the sight of the inside of The Geode as it projected a starry night sky filled with various constellations and far-off galaxies. Atem looked down and smiled at his little Yoi as his eyes finally adjusted to the dim light within the theater.

“Yes Yoi?”

“I know that technically my ticket is for the kids’ section but… Can I sit next to you?”

The innocent question threw Atem completely off guard, and a flush of warmth trickled through him from his head to the tips of his toes. He grabbed Yoi’s hand and smiled back.

“Of course.”

Honda looked on as the three of them took their seats in the center of the theater, sneaking a few pictures of Atem and Yoi chatting before the documentary started. He silently congratulated himself on successfully helping Atem create more precious memories with Yoi. There were only three days left.

Chapter Text

Sugoroku was tired. Tired, and old, as his bones seemed to remind him every morning as he got out of bed to welcome a new dawn. He had seen many strange and magical things, and heard of even more, in his two lifetimes, but Yuugi being magicked into becoming a young boy again? Never had he even imagined in his wildest dreams that such magic could occur.

Still, as he stepped into the house through the backdoor, he could feel the difference in the air. Unlimited energy, giggles, screams of excitement, and cries of frustration… All of it came flooding back to him as though he himself were a youth. He couldn’t help but smile even as he opened the door at the top of the stairs to see a spiky bob of black and gold rush about between the kitchen and dining table, chopsticks and empty mugs in hand.

No sooner he had stepped into the livingroom with his rolling suitcase than he was attacked with the fiercest hug he had ever received. Yuugi was clearly paying him back for having worried him so!

“Great-Grandpa!!!” the child in his arms exclaimed, “Welcome home!”

Ah… Atem had said as much. This was not meant to be Yuugi. This was another child… Heba’s child, Yuugi’s offspring… the child of a pure-hearted god…

“Ah… Well hello there Yoi,” Sugoroku replied, his voice warm and welcoming even as he felt the life being crushed out of him. He let go of his suitcase and enveloped his great-grandson in his arms, marveling at the magic he held tightly to him. After a few blessed seconds embracing the surprise in his arms, the two broke away and Atem walked over from the kitchen looking exasperated, though his eyes softened as soon as his gaze fell on the scene.

“Shimon I—”

“Papa and I are making breakfast for you!” Yoi grinned, purposefully interrupting Atem and earning himself a tired huff from his father.

Sugoroku nodded and smiled, leaving the suitcase where it sat in the entryway and taking the lead as the household elder. The kitchen was a mess. Flour covered the usually spotless countertops like freshly fallen snow, with large dollops of batter clumped up every which way, a large frying pan sat empty on the stovetop, and the empty bowl of batter was already soaking in the sink. He glanced between the counter and high-hanging cabinets to spy a plate on the dining table piled high with colorful pancakes, some blue, some pink, some green, and some their usual yellowy-brown. Food coloring?

“I see you’ve been busy preparing for my arrival,” he chuckled.

“It was my idea!” Yoi replied, his exuberance far more colorful than Sugoroku had ever seen Yuugi to be, even on his most excited days. “Almost everyone who comes over has been making breakfast for me, so I thought I would make some for you.”

“Ah…” Sugoroku smiled, gently patting Yoi on the head before turning back to face the carnage in the kitchen. “That was very sweet of you. Are you all done then, or is there something that you didn’t have time to prepare?”

“We’re all done,” Atem said quietly from behind him, a hint of tired amusement in his voice. “We were just starting to clean up before you arrived. I didn’t think your flight would come in so early.”

That had been Sugoroku’s fault. He slyly avoided telling the boys that he had changed his own airplane ticket to an earlier flight so that he could come home and spend as much of the day as possible with this smaller, more rambunctious child. That was his secret to keep. Instead, he directed them to the table, piling the plates and cutlery they would need into their arms, and turned instead to making a nice pot of tea to go along with the pancakes.

Breakfast was lovely, and afterwards Sugoroku insisted that the boys not worry about cleaning the kitchen as they all needed to get ready for the day. Atem seemed relieved that he wasn’t upset about the mess they had made and quickly pushed Yoi up the stairs to get his clothes ready. With practiced ease he put his kimono on, a deep green nagagi paired with a soft brown haori on top and hakama on the bottom. The first shrine visit of the year had always been something extremely important to him, and he would accept nothing less than the most formal dress when offering his hopes and prayers to the gods on that day.

With all of the noise filtering down from the top of the stairs as Sugoroku made his way out of his room, he couldn’t help but feel that perhaps Atem needed a little help. He slowly climbed the steps to his grandson’s room, enjoying the banter and discussion that their boisterousness allowed for him to be a part of.

“No Papa, like this.” Yoi must have been showing Atem something or another.

“Right. Thanks Yoi.” Sugoroku stopped at the door as he heard Atem’s heavy sigh drift through the air. It was Atem’s first real Hatsumode, and Yuugi had promised to help him through the entire process. “This would be so much easier if only…”

Sugoroku was about to open the door and offer to help when Yoi piped up again, his voice as clear and twinkling as a crisp night sky in winter. “Don’t think like that Papa! We’re doing just fine with the video, and when we’re all ready, we’ll take a nice picture and you can show that to Dad as proof that we did it.”

With a warm smile and a gentle push of the door, he walked into the room to see Yoi already fully dressed, his pitch black nagagi the perfect backdrop to the soft yellow haori and deep blue hakama he wore over it. Atem was only partially dressed with his black nagagi perfectly tied around him, the upper hem of his equally dark hakama gripped tightly in his hands, his burgundy haori still hanging carefully from its hanger in the closet.

“Atem, the colors Yuugi chose for you match his perfectly. It suits you,” he smiled as he stepped up to help assist him. With a practiced hand, he finished helping Atem and turned to his great-grandson who was now only a few inches shorter than him, clear adoration in his eyes as he admired the way the colors of Yoi’s clothes lit up his entire being. “And you, Yoi, your kimono fits you perfectly. I have no adjustments to make.”

They left the house by foot and enjoyed each other’s company as Yoi and Atem filled Sugoroku in on what had been happening since Yoi’s spell was cast. The crisp mid-morning winter air contrasted perfectly with the bright warmth of the sun’s rays on this perfect, cloudless day. He found himself wishing that Yuugi could share this day with all of them, but quickly hushed that thought, his mind turning to how best to pray for Yoi’s eternal happiness and prosperity. If what Atem had said over the phone was truly the case, then his darling great-grandson would disappear in the next few days.

The steps to the local shrine were cleared of snow, and a chill hung in the air as Sugoroku led Atem and Yoi through the torii as they climbed higher and higher, gradually distancing themselves from the technology-laden modern-day Domino City they were used to being in. Not many people came to this shrine nowadays, but there were still some more-rooted families, like his, that frequented it regularly. The courtyard opened up significantly at the last step, its pavers spotless whilst the trees and rooftops were blanketed with winter’s snow. A few families were praying, chatting, or in line for an Ema at the smaller building off to the side.

It felt strangely nice to have Atem and Yoi flanking him as he did his prayers. Normally he and Yuugi would pray together at the same time, their claps and coin tosses perfectly in sync after years of having prayed together, but this time, he prayed first, allowing Atem to center his thoughts and Yoi to think carefully before either of them made their New Year’s prayer. Atem went next, and although his movements weren’t as fluid as they should be for someone of his age, Sugoroku could tell that the ancient pharaoh had retained the knowledge of how to properly pray at a shrine for Hatsumode. Surely his grandson had taught him how to pray in all of the time that Atem had spent tethered to Yuugi as a spirit. He stepped aside to chuckle briefly at the thought of the two of them praying together. He would have to ask Yuugi about that in a few days’ time.

After Atem was done, Yoi stepped forward, his attitude and poise strangely different from the excited young boy that had walked up the hill with them. Perhaps the trek up the hill and under the vast number of torii had calmed and centered the boy in a way that Sugoroku might not see again. Yoi seemed calmer, more serious, contemplative, even. Sugoroku watched carefully as Yoi went through the motions with perfectly practiced ease, a dull haze in his eyes that blocked the golden shimmering from shining as brightly as could be. Atem nudged him gently then, as if to confirm that his train of thought was indeed correct. Had Yoi found a way to access Yuugi’s memories while still remaining distinctly separate from him?

The dull, reserved chatter filling the courtyard was broken as the three of them made their way towards the stairs to head home, a crystal clear voice calling out with unrestrained surety. “Yoi!” No sooner had he heard the voice than the person it belonged to had appeared before them, grey eyes wide with shock and a knowing smile puffing up her rosy cheeks.

It was Sumire, the little girl who had become a fan of Duel Monsters during the Battle City Tournament and since then enjoyed stopping by Kame Game once a week to admire the figurines behind the glass cases. Never once had she bought anything, but Sugoroku enjoyed her presence in the shop nonetheless. “I knew it was you!” she asserted, her hands quickly reaching for Yoi’s and grasping them tightly. “Your sparkly hair and eyes are a dead giveaway.”

Sugoroku chuckled lightly behind his hand as he watched the two young ones interact, the look of bewilderment and shock on Yoi’s face slowly melting into confusion and finally brightening with realization. “Oh! Sumire?” the boy asked, awe lighting up his face. “You’re shorter than I remember you being.”

“That’s because you grew. I’m still eight,” she huffed quietly as another family walked past them. Yoi’s tinkling laughter burst forth like a dying star’s last breath, filling the quiet space around them and garnering timid smiles from the other families milling around the shrine. “Don’t laugh! You promised to play with me again and you never showed up at the park. I have every right to be upset.”

Sugoroku watched as Yoi’s face darkened, his brow furrowing in thought and guilt. Atem simply sighed and shook his head. The former pharaoh was likely guilty for the mishap, but by all accounts things had been pretty busy for him and Yoi, what with all of their friends pitching in to spend a day each with Yoi. Sugoroku was about to intercede on his great-grandson’s behalf when Yoi spoke up. “I’m sorry… I guess I forgot? A lot’s happened since then…” He finally stepped forward and lovingly placed a hand on his great-grandson’s shoulder.

“Ah, Sumire,” he began, looking down at the young girl with the warmest smile he could offer. “Are you done with your new year’s prayers?”

“Oh! Kame-jii-san! Happy new year!” she replied, respectfully bowing her head, her hands still tightly grasping Yoi’s. Her bow was so deep that she pulled the boy down with her, their heads smacking into each other.

“Happy new year to you too young lady,” he chuckled as the two children moaned and rubbed their bruised heads. “How about I invite you over to play with Yoi?” The look of excitement on his great-grandson’s face warmed his creaking bones even as he felt the chill of the winter setting into them from having stood still for so long.

“Even though the shop is closed for the holidays?” she asked, her head cocking to the side cutely as she combed through her hair after having rubbed it into a small mat of knots. He nodded, watching as her eyes glimmered with joy like the freshly fallen snow surrounding the shrine. What beautiful eyes both of them had. “I would love to!”

“I’ll go speak with Sumire’s parents,” Atem offered as he walked off to get their permission. Sugoroku nodded his thanks before turning back to the children.

“Uhm…,” Sumire started, once again bowing low, “I know that you’re not my grandfather, but could you let me borrow some money for an Ema? I’ll bring my pocket money to pay you back once your shop opens back up.” Sugoroku eyed the child knowingly. She clearly intended to write a combined wish with Yoi. Fishing out his wallet from his inner sleeve, he pulled out a large wad of cash that he had intended to donate to the shrine on the way out and handed it to Yoi.

“Of course my dear. You and Yoi can do what you’d like here. Maybe get yourselves a charm of your choice also?” he smiled as they beamed at him. “The rest of the money is to be given to the shrine maiden as a donation, alright Yoi?”

“Yes, of course!” Yoi replied.
“Thank you so much” Sumire chimed.

Yoi let Sumire lead him around the shrine by the hand, his mind foggy from trying to remember how he had met Sumire and what they had said to each other. How long had it been since they had met? What had they been doing? He must have said something about the spell he was under, as she didn’t seem perturbed by the fact that he was different than before… He had apparently promised to meet her again, so why had he forgotten?

Now they were standing off to the side of the secondary shrine building, each of them holding one half of the Ema in their hands. “I want us to write a wish together, Yoi.” He blinked the fog out of his mind and turned his head to catch her staring at him with such intensity that he couldn’t possibly refuse her demand.

“What should we wish for?” he asked, rather than bother telling her that he wasn’t quite sure if he could recall what an Ema was truly for. He had the uncanny ability to recall most of everything that he had never really learned himself, which was undoubtably useful, but also terrifyingly isolating. No one around him had said anything about this ability of his, but he knew it had something to do with whatever spell he was under.

“I want us to always be friends. No matter what,” she said simply, her voice calm and clear amidst the stormy thoughts overwhelming him. Yoi nodded and smiled. That was a nice wish, especially since he was starting to get the creeping feeling that Yuugi’s return from Egypt was something that would change his life significantly. He wanted to see his other father so much, but every time it was mentioned, the adults around him seemed to have a sad smile on their faces that they couldn’t quite hide. It was different from when he was younger and their smiles would light up their faces and they would enthousiastically join in with his plans. Was it because he was older now, or was it because they were clearly hiding something?

“Let’s write it together then.” Sumire’s smile lit up her face at his quiet words, and he felt his heart soar like never before.

Time ticked by quickly as they hung their Ema with the help of the shrine maiden and each chose a lucky charm before handing her the rest of the money Yoi had for the donation to the shrine. Soon enough, Yoi and Sumire were walking hand in hand down the steps of the shrine and back out into the noise and bustle of Domino city. He led the way home, each step as sure as he’d ever been despite never having walked home alone himself. There was so much that he needed to talk to Sumire about. He needed to trust that she would keep his secrets, just as he had the first time they had met. He needed someone only he was close to.

Yoi bowed gratefully as he said goodbye to Sumire’s parents in front of the door to his house. He had a few hours with his friend. That would be enough. “We’re going upstairs, Papa,” he called out as he pulled Sumire through the entryway as soon as Atem had opened the door. “I want to show Sumire some of my puzzles.” He didn’t say anything as he caught his friend’s questioning look. Any excuse was viable. They just needed to be alone.

As soon as he had shut the door behind them, he sighed, turning to face his friend who was casually looking around the room and poking her head here and there at the various trophies and other Duel Monsters’ memorabilia that adorned the walls.

“This is your room Yoi? But you can’t have won these trophies…right?”

Another sigh, another smile. He grabbed Sumire’s hands and led her to the bed, giving her the opportunity to carefully sit down without creasing her beautiful lilac and sea foam green kimono as he grabbed the desk chair and kneeled on it, his elbows leaning on the back of the seat. “No. I don’t have a room in this house…”

“Oh?” Her polite exclamation quickly subsided as she smiled again. “Well, that would make sense if you’re only… uhm… ten days old? I’m sure your family hadn’t planned on you growing up so fast.”

“Sumire… There are no baby things either. I never had a crib, and there were never any baby toys as far as I can remember, other than my lovey,” he said quietly as he watched the smile fade from her face. “I’ve spent a lot of time the past two days just trying to remember anything from when I was really little, but none of it makes sense. If I was really adopted, wouldn’t I have been prepared for? Wouldn’t there have been a room for me, or my own things?”

Yoi let his voice go quiet as he let his friend absorb his thoughts. The silence was almost deafening, his blood pounding in his ears as he waited to hear what she had to say. “So Yuugi isn’t in the hospital again?” she asked, naked innocence and burning curiosity apparent in her voice. “No one’s seen him around, so rumors are starting to circulate.”

“What? No. No? I don’t know. What do you mean? How? Why?”

What was that question and why did Sumire seem so calm about it? Why hadn’t he been told that his dad could be in the hospital? Who was telling the truth and who was lying to him? Yoi leaned forward and groaned, grasping the spikes of hair closest to his temples and tugging at them. The sharp pain dulled the thudding of his head as he tried to focus his thoughts.

“Don’t freak out! I’m sorry!” he heard off in the distance even as he thought as hard as he could about what he could know and what he should know. “Do you have a computer or something? I can show you what I mean. There haven’t been any mentions of it in the news, and you don’t know about it, so he’s probably fine.”

Yoi looked up to see Sumire rummaging through the desk’s drawers, gasping as she pulled out a sleek black phone and sliding it open to reveal a holographic display, the cracks in the phone lighting up a brilliant purple. “How does this thing work? It’s a phone, right?”

“Seto-nii made them for everyone,” he thought aloud as he stood up and walked to her side. This is m—his phone. “But that doesn’t make sense… Why would his phone be here? Papa said that Dad was in Egypt…” Yoi stood there, dumbfounded, desperately trying to work through the knowledge he had and piece it all together. “What if I’m not me, but him?”

“Yoi! Hey, Yoi, look at me.”

Two hands delicately placed themselves on his cheeks and gently turned his head as he stood there in a daze. It was hard to think or feel anything over the tingling in his fingers, toes, and nose. Was he breathing too much? Could he stop? Could he even try? His gaze fell upon Sumire’s as she turned his head, her grey eyes shimmering as intensely as the flurries of snow he had watched fall the night before. The fear he had let out calmed as he lost himself in her eyes, and he did his best to focus just on her even as the fear threatened to take hold again.

“Yoi… Whatever this magic is, you are you. You’ll always be my friend. We wished it together. Just you and me. No one else.”

Somehow, he felt as though he could trust her with everything he knew. Yoi nodded and swallowed down the knot in his throat, gasping as it left a pained lump where it had once been. The two spent the rest of their time together fiddling with Yoi’s hand puzzles and talking as they sat on the bed or kneeled on the floor. Sumire explained everything that she knew about the King of Games, from online rumors to actual news articles, and the more that she said, the more Yoi felt a strange peace with everything he felt.

That strange, ever-present floaty feeling that he had had a meaning, a purpose. He was living a dream, a wonderful, magical dream. He had to have been.

Yoi shared what little he had heard Atem speak about over the phone the night that he had snuck down the stairs. He found himself appreciating every little hum and sound of acknowledgment that Sumire made, and even began looking to her at the end of each sentence for her input. It really felt good to get all of it off of his chest, especially since he had been keeping it to himself for a few days.

His father clearly didn’t want him to know, and Yoi feared what would happen if he decided to say anything.

Soon enough it was time for Sumire to go, and the two said their goodbyes at the back door to the house. Sumire draped her arms over Yoi’s shoulders and held him tightly, her voice soft and low as her lips brushed against his ear. “I’ll see you in three days, Yoi. Promise me?”

“Yeah,” he breathed back hugging her with all of his might in an effort to imprint the feeling of his friend’s embrace into his memory for all of time. “I’ll see you then.”

He really hoped so.

Chapter Text

Seto had been clearing his calendar of meetings a lot more in the past two weeks than he liked, but this day was his to do with as he pleased, and that meant that he could have one day with Yoi. That also meant that it was timed down to the minute with the things that he wanted to do with Yuugi’s smaller, magically-induced counterpart. After all, being a CEO meant that every available minute of freedom was meant to be savored and planned for.

Eleven years old was not a bad age for him to spend with Yoi, as it reminded him fondly of his time with Mokuba. Of course, at that point in Mokuba’s life, things weren’t great… But still, they had made some good memories. Gozaburo couldn’t stop them from living, though he might as well have tried, considering the amount of stress and work he put them both under…

Of course, like all good plans, Seto’s didn’t end up working out. Breakfast happened, but Yoi slept in to the point that even Atem was getting worried and went up to wake the boy. He tried his best not to snap at Yoi when he came down, hair disheveled and clothes askew, but the boy only managed a cursory nod and greeting before heading into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

“Is he always like that?” he asked pointedly after taking a long sip of the coffee Atem had made for them to pass the time with. “Or is this a recent development?”

He watched his cousin’s reaction, scrutinizing every glance and movement with as much intensity as if they were preparing for war. Raising a child was hard work; hard work that Seto was very much attune to after having lost his parents.

“Yoi likes sleeping in…” Atem sighed, taking another sip of his hazelnut coffee, “but yes, he’s been sleeping in a bit longer every successive day. It might be a side effect of the spell Yuugi is under.” Seto hummed in response, refraining from saying more as the pre-teen dashed out of the bathroom all smiles and with the energy of a thousand stars.

The rest of the morning went as planned, though everything was off by about two hours, give or take a few minutes here or there. Seto watched with keen interest as Yoi soaked up the atmosphere and art in Domino’s modern and contemporary art museum before shifting gears and taking him to the museum of natural history, with its sprawling atrium and majestic dinosaur exhibit.

As they strolled through the museum and then its park, Seto poked and prodded Atem about Yoi’s education. What sort of plans and desires did his cousin have for his offspring? Granted, Yoi himself would soon disappear, a fact that made this exercice purely theoretical rather than practical, but still, he felt that it was important for Atem to focus on every aspect of a child’s needs. As a group, they had been focused on the socio-emotional side of things with Yoi, especially due to his magical nature and the fact that his knowledge base was likely a snapshot of what Yuugi knew around the same age, but a real child would have more educational needs, more cognitive demands.

“I suppose that I would have our children go to a normal school. Public or private, I don’t think it would matter much in the end,” Atem finally conceded after a long bout of silence as Yoi walked ahead of them, clearly enjoying the various animal statues on display. “I think Yuugi would appreciate it if we taught them Khemetic, just so that a part of heritage was honored… though I am uncertain as to how we would tackle religion.”

It was good to know that Atem had indeed been contemplating these questions far before Seto had decided to confront him with them.

With that portion of the day’s plans over, the trio headed off to their next destination, a children’s science museum that held interactive exhibits for a variety of age groups and science domains. Yoi’s entrance ticket had long since expired, but there were certain perks to being Seto Kaiba, and so the expired, time-sensitive ticket was simply ignored and Yoi was let into the exhibits of his choice, no questions asked.

Seto had taken Mokuba on a few occasions since Gozaburo’s demise, though it was always under the pretense of getting work done in the adjacent coffee shop while Mokuba had fun with other kids his age. Now that he had cleared his calendar for the day, however, Seto found himself hacking into and watching the security video feed of the museum as he and his cousin sat in the coffee shop, their third or fourth coffee in hand.

“And what about your status as a celebrity of sorts?” he asked coldly, his gaze quickly falling upon Yoi and another child of indefinite age hiding in a corner, whispering to each other. His eyes narrowed. Was this the girl Yoi had been mentioning all day? How would he have known that they could meet? “Rumors and paparazzi are bound to stalk your every step, and your hair certainly doesn’t make it easy for you to blend in with a crowd.”

The deep chuckle at his side made him look up from his phone, beholding his cousin’s amused and relaxed posture. “Thank you for stamping down the rumors and photos of Yoi. I know that you’re doing this for Yuugi’s sake as much as you are for all of us, but when we are ready to actually raise children together, we will teach them how to hold themselves with pride and grace.”

Once again, Seto was left with only the option to hum his acknowledgement. Atem had clearly been thinking about all of this over the past week or so. “Good. I suppose that I have nothing else to advise you on.” Atem’s chuckle renewed, drifting in the air a little more than the first one had, drawing other parents’ eyes to the two men. “Is this line of questioning because Yoi and Sumire just happened to meet here? Your vigilance is commendable as always, but your assumptions are misplaced. The girl is privy to only the most basic aspect of the spell. Neither of them are in any danger.”

He put his phone away at Atem’s comment and simply turned to stare out of the broad, open window that connected the little coffee shop to the main hall of the children’s museum. It was during times like these that he wondered how Katsuya would respond… Seto simply lost himself in his thoughts until the end of the afternoon, wondering if he too should be having this sort of conversation with his own lover.

Chapter Text

Yuugi yawned, taking his time to stretch before throwing his legs over the edge of the bed and sitting up. The bed had felt strangely empty, so he knew not to expect Atem by his side. Instead, he looked up to see his other self curled up like a cat in the deep indent that was left on his Kuriboh pouf from days of sleeping on it. He smiled before sneaking out of their room’s open door and shuffling down the stairs to the kitchen. He still felt strangely groggy… A nice cup of coffee sounded like something he and Atem could go for. It was the least he could do since he had apparently been in too much pain to have Atem in bed with him that night.

It wasn’t until he reached for the cupboard door to take out the drip carafe that Yuugi realized that something was amiss. His hand went right through the handle to the cupboard door. He must have missed, he thought as he narrowed his eyes and got down on all fours to properly aim for the handle this time. He had snuck a few drinks the night before after having had such a poor reception to his question, but there was no way that he was drunk now, a full night’s rest later… A full night’s rest filled with the strangest, most wildly vivid dreams imaginable…

His hand went straight through the handle again, and it was then that the feeling struck him. He wasn’t actually kneeling on the floor, though it seemed like it from his perspective. He was floating. In fact, his feet hadn’t once touched the ground since he had gotten up. The bed had felt strangely empty because he hadn’t actually been in it.

This felt exactly like when he was still sharing a body with Atem and his other self would take over while Yuugi was the soul who watched from the sidelines… except that he had seen Atem. His other self was fast asleep in his own body. So had he died? Was that it? Had his body given out despite his will to live and allow his friends to live full lives? No. If that had been the case, then the darkness of Duat would have welcomed him. A quick glance behind him revealed that there were no delicate butterfly wings upon his back, and his skin didn’t have that godly glow that he naturally had in the other planes of existence now that he was considered a god.

Had something happened to him?

Not freaking out was the first order of business as he went back up the stairs, stealing a glance at the calendar on his way up. It was the fifth of January. How!? He slid quietly into their bedroom and went straight for the CuddleSac, calling Atem over and over in a futile attempt to get some answers. Instead, he heard a soft moan and the rustling of bedsheets. His head snapped to the bed in an instant, his eyes widening in shock as he took in the sight before him.

A younger him, oh so much younger than when he had first met Atem, with eyes that sparkled like shooting stars and hair that looked like it was dipped in the finest golden powder was lying in their bed, staring at him in awe.

“Yuugi? You’re Yuugi right? My dad? You came home a day early? But… You’re a ghost? Papa said that you went to Egypt for work. Wait… Did you end up in the hospital? Did you die there?”

Yuugi stood there for a moment as the whispered questions replayed over and over in his mind. His crazy dreams, as vivid as they were, hadn’t been dreams at all. Those eyes…that voice… they were Yoi’s.

“Hey tiny me!” he said with as much gusto as a man who was having an unplanned out of body experience could muster, “I promise you that I’m not dead, but don’t tell Atem that you can see or hear me, alright? This sort of thing has happened before and I don’t want him to worry. It’ll resolve itself soon enough.”

“Are you sure about this?”

The scepticism in Yoi’s voice was palpable and completely warranted, but Yuugi simply smiled warmly and nodded, not even taking the time to bat an eyelash at this turn of events. Granted, he could barely remember anything that had occurred within his first few dreams, but it was obvious by his friends’ consistent presence within what he could remember that they had the situation under control.

“Yeah. In fact, it would be best if you didn’t tell anyone you can see me. I don’t want to cause a ruckus. This sort of thing has a way of working itself out,” he grinned as he took a seat on the bed. “You’ve really grown up, haven’t you, Yoi?” The impish grin he received at that question filled him with glee. Yoi was, for lack of a better word, perfect. He couldn’t have asked for a better first child to have with Atem. If only it was meant to be forever…

Yuugi turned away as quickly as he had gone to face the bed, shutting down all of the emotions swirling inside him, forcing them down into the deepest recesses of his mind. If this connection to Yoi was anything like his connection to Atem, he couldn’t let Yoi feel any of it. The pride, the happiness, the contentment, the feeling of foreboding, the restless anxiety, the hopeless wishing… He didn’t want his son to know.

Today was January fifth. Today was the twelfth day of Christmas, and if he had retained anything from having been forced to read Twelfth Night in high school, it was that whatever magic or revelry there was was meant to end that night.

In the back of his mind, despite not knowing exactly what was going to happen, Yuugi knew. Whatever spell his body was under would break, Yoi would disappear, and Yuugi would be left picking up the pieces of Atem that were bound to shatter when the time came. Yuugi sighed, took a deep breath, and made a decision. Today he would be the one to watch over them. He would burn the day into his soul so that when the end came, there would be no regrets.

“Wanna go make breakfast for Atem?” he turned back, forcing himself to grin just as widely as Yoi still was. As far as he knew, the child beside him had no idea that this was the end, and he would be all the better for it. There was no use in crying; it would only ruin their last day— their only day— together.

Sugoroku shuffled into the livingroom, the scent of perfectly brewed coffee and lightly buttered toast wafting through the air. Yoi was sitting happily in Yuugi’s chair, golden-tipped spikes shimmering with every bop of his little head, a large piece of toast shoved deeply in his mouth. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Yoi looked so much like Yuugi as a child that it was impossible for him to think that this wasn’t what his great-grandson would look like if Yuugi ever wanted biological children…

“Well, this is as close as I’m getting to that, I suppose…”

Yuugi looked up from his staring contest with Yoi, the child yipping with glee at having won, to watch as his grandfather poured himself a cup of coffee and grabbed two slices of toast from the pile before sitting down beside Yoi. He had heard Sugoroku’s puzzling words and picked at them in his mind as he took in the extra wrinkles donning the smile of contentment before him. His grandfather was getting on in years, whether he liked it or not. If he and Atem weren’t ready to have children by the time Sugoroku passed… at least Yoi was there to fill that void for him.

“This coffee tastes like the kind your Papa likes best. Did you make this for him?” the old man asked, a soft smile on his face. Yoi nodded enthusiastically, his mouth still filled with toast. “You’re twelve now, so I’ll let you in on a little secret…” He watched as Yoi bit into his piece of toast with a voracious appetite, cleanly slicing through and depositing the excess back onto his plate before roughly swallowing, the area around his face covered in little crumbs and a smattering of butter. Sugoroku couldn’t help but laugh at the sight.

“Whaaaaat? Don’t laugh at me! I just wanted to pay all of my attention to your secret,” Yoi pouted as he wiped his face with a napkin. Yuugi snickered beside him, though he did his best not to show it.

“Well, now that I have your undivided attention, I suppose I can tell you, yes?” the old man gently teased, his smile wide and filled with more love than Yuugi could describe in mere words. It felt like the Nile overflowing in its abundance, filling the parched earth with life and everything that was necessary for it. Beside him, Yoi nodded enthousiastically, his golden eyes trained on his great-grandfather’s every breath.

“You remind me very much of Yuugi,” he said, patting the dear boy lightly on the head. “He’s always been a very thoughtful, selfless person, and I find those qualities are growing in you. You’ll become a fine young man.”

Yuugi watched carefully as Yoi beamed at those words, trying his best to see if anything would happen between him and his son, but nothing seemed to change. Grandpa just sat there, not looking like anything had really changed either. Yuugi supposed that was a good sign, that whatever magic spell was cast on him would hold up regardless of how much they talked about him at this point. Perhaps it had been due to the fact that Yoi so readily spoke of him… Either way, it was a welcome bit of knowledge.

Atem trudged down the steps to the main floor of the house, a weariness and weight to his movements that he could only liken to when Heba had been bedridden. It was a painful sort of feeling, to be weighed down by inevitability regardless of the prayers he let loose from the seat of his soul. This was Yoi’s last day. He missed Yuugi terribly; his very being ached to feel his partner by his side, but why did it have to be at the cost of their child? Rationally, he knew that Loki hadn’t meant for this to become so emotionally fraught, but rationality had never seemed to be one of Atem’s strong suits. He was the one who tended to get lost in his thoughts and feelings, and it was his partner who pulled him out of it and helped him organize them.

Yuugi knew that look as soon as he saw Atem walk into the room. A lot was clearly on his other half’s mind. He wondered briefly if Yoi was perceptive enough to see through Atem’s stoic facade, but internally he hoped that that wasn’t the case.

It didn’t matter that Yuugi couldn’t really interact with anyone but Yoi. He couldn’t just leave his other half like that, so he rose from the table and made his way to Atem, lacing his arms around his other’s waist and giving him a small kiss on the cheek. “Hard night, Other Me?” he offered gently as he watched Atem pile three pieces of toast onto his plate and bring it and his cup of coffee to the table. Yuugi wandered back to Yoi’s side as his son smiled brightly at him. Even if he couldn’t really interact with Atem, it was good for Yoi to see some semblance of normalcy between them.

Yoi watched with bated breath as Atem took a sip of his coffee, eyes going wide in acknowledgement at the familiar taste. “See?” Yuugi smiled, “I told you this was the best way to make black coffee. Now do you think it was worth all of that effort?”

“Totally…” he heard Yoi whisper back before biting down on another piece of toast.

The rest of the day went by in a flash of smiles, games, laughter, and memories. Atem had wanted their last day together to be cozy. No outings, no big plans, nothing fancy. Just the three of them at home. Sugoroku did end up opening the shop, which gave Yoi some time to see how things actually worked in their business, especially when the afternoon crowd came through. Otherwise, Atem spent the day up in the house with Yoi, playing games, putting a puzzle together, and cooking. Yuugi, of course, did his best to interact with Yoi without alerting Atem to his presence. The father-son pair snuck looks at each other when Atem wasn’t looking, and Yoi found ways to whisper to his ghostly father when he was sure that Papa Atem was distracted.

During their game marathon, Yuugi counselled Yoi on the various moves he could make, but let Yoi make the final decision, leaving their playing styles to mash together in a strange and interesting way. By the end of a particularly hard-won game of chess, even Atem conceded that Yoi had improved greatly since he had first started playing a few days prior. Yuugi and Yoi high fived under the table so as not to arouse any suspicion.

With dinner done, Yoi headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed while Atem cleaned and put away the dishes. Yuugi stayed behind with Atem, floating near him, wishing that he could help in some manner.

“You would have liked him, Aibou…”

“Yeah…” Yuugi whispered back, letting his head fall to the side as though it could rest on Atem’s shoulder. “I wish there was a way we could all be together too…”

Bedtime rolled around soon enough, and Yoi hugged his great-grandfather as tightly as he had for the past few days. “Goodnight, my dear boy. Sleep well.” Sugoroku tightened their hug ever-so-briefly, gently kissed the top of Yoi’s head, and sent him off to sleep. Yuugi motioned for Yoi to go ahead as Atem headed up the stairs too. He would wait his turn. Atem and Yoi needed their time alone, especially since their child had gone through the day blissfully unaware of the magic spell that was about to break.

Yoi squirmed and laughed as Atem dutifully tucked him in, kneeling down and kissing him goodnight. His forehead always felt funny if Atem didn’t kiss him quite in the center, but he liked that, he supposed.

“Hey! I’m not a kid anymore Papa!” he laughed as he sat back up and hugged his father. “You don’t need to kiss me goodnight.”

Atem felt the words he heard weigh him down despite their apparent mirth, but he shook it off. Now was not the time to be sad. There would be time for that later.

“Can you just indulge your father one last time? Tomorrow you’ll be all grown up and I promise never to kiss you goodnight again,” he said mockingly, forcing the words out through his throat tight with sadness.

He was going to miss Yoi.

“Hey Papa?”

“Hmm?”

Yoi shifted in bed, lying back down and on his side so that he could better see his father. Something felt different about this goodnight, he felt. It felt a bit like a goodbye, somehow. Compelled to make it last longer, he continued in jest, “Since I’m still a little kid until tomorrow, would you mind reading me a bedtime story?”

Easy laughter filled the room, and Yoi smiled as he watched his father get up to grab a nearby book. Once the story had been told, Atem leaned back down, whispered his goodnight, kissed Yoi on the temple, and left the room in a gentle darkness.

He needed a stiff drink while he waited to make sure that Yoi actually fell asleep.

Yuugi took one look at his soulmate, sighed, and headed upstairs. He phased into his bedroom only to see Yoi sitting up and looking at his hands, a deep look of contemplation drawn over his young, round features.

“This… This isn’t my body, is it?”

“No…” Yuugi answered as he lowered himself to Yoi’s height, “It’s not.”

“I thought so. It feels almost like I’m sleeping. Like my body is on autopilot and I just want to fall asleep and not wake up.”

“For how long have you felt like that?”

Yoi was silent for a time as he tilted his head up and flopped back onto the bed with a heavy thump. Staring at the moon was so… relaxing, he thought, allowing himself to feel how heavy his eyelids were. “Dunno. Today? Yesterday? Before that? Most of it blends together like a magical dream.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Yuugi asked, though he seemed to know the answer as Yoi responded.

“For the same reason that everyone didn’t tell me.” Yoi closed his eyes for a brief moment before throwing himself out of bed. Now was not the time to fall asleep. Not just yet. “I want to write some letters.”

Yuugi found himself laughing despite it all. What a blessing this child was!

“You’re just like Atem, you know.”

He watched as Yoi stopped in his tracks to stare at him, a look of adoration and excitement painted on his face, his eyes sparkling with life. “You’re the first person to say that. Normally they all say how much I remind them of you.”

“You’re just as much his child as mine, and I’d venture to say that you take after him more than you realize.” Yuugi pointed to a small drawer at the bottom of his desk and added, “Use the special paper. Atem didn’t think to do that with my goodbye letter, but it feels really nice and has a little sparkle to it. Pens work better on it too!” Yoi rightfully ooohed and ahhed as he flipped through the little stationary set before settling down at the desk and beginning his first letter.

Yuugi sat in silence for a while, enjoying the sight of a smaller, younger version of himself deep in thought, Yoi’s golden tipped hair sparkling in the moonlight. It was nice to know that Atem had raised him well, despite how tumultuous the entire experience must have been. Still, he felt uneasy just sitting there, watching his son write private, important letters to his friends, so he faked a few stretches behind the boy, leaned over to peck him lovingly on the cheek and made his way to the door. “I’m going down to check on Atem. No falling asleep on me, okay?”

“Oh!” Yoi called back, the scratching of pen against paper going quiet for a brief moment before picking back up. “Could you… Give him another hug, from me.”

There was no need to say anything more. Yuugi hummed in approval and left down the stairs, leaving his son alone with his thoughts and words. He walked into the living room and gazed at the conversation playing out between the couch and the armchair. Atem was curled up on the couch, his left side snug against the left arm of the couch, a blanket draped over him and a steaming mug of something clenched tightly in his hands. There he went again, doing that thing where he burns his hands in order to think better.

Yuugi wanted nothing more than to take the mug from his hands, but there wasn’t much he could do as a disembodied spirit. He could always try, but he found it unlikely that the mug wouldn’t come crashing down on someone or something. Instead, he kneeled down and placed his hands over Atem’s, his eyes roving over the coffee table as he listened to the conversation in progress.

“If I had just been honest and forthcoming with Yuugi to begin with, we wouldn’t be stuck in this horrible situation. Why am I always so powerless to make the proper decision in a timely manner?”

“Now now, Atem. You know better than to think that way.” Sugoroku took a moment to sip on the hot tea in his mug before continuing. “None of this was your fault. Besides, Yuugi will know what to do when the time comes. I doubt very much that he will allow Yoi to somber into nothingness when tonight ends.”

“I know, I know…” Atem sighed, downing a large gulp of his spiked coffee, “but his sechem is already so limited by the burden he carries. What could he possibly do in this situation?”

Yuugi frowned a touch at that question. He had let Atem down once already by failing to protect him from his fate. That had been something he could never forgive himself for, even if now, after all of those years, they were finally reunited and living happily together. He wasn’t about to let Yoi down in the same manner. His grandfather was right. There had to be a way.

He let go of Atem’s hands and made his way to the coffee table, his gaze falling upon Yoi’s terribly made Duel Monsters deck. The boy had challenged Atem with the most ridiculous rule; that their decks could only contain cards that had adjectives in their names. Even with Sugoroku’s wealth of cards at their disposal, the two decks were neigh unuseable, and the game itself had been hilariously ridiculous. Yuugi found himself smiling fondly at the memory of Yoi cackling like a maniac as he successfully leveled up his Silent Magician while Atem had a dud hand, leaving him wide open to attack.

There it was, Yoi’s Silent Magician LV4, right there on top of the mess of cards still splayed out on the table from their post-dinner game. If there ever was a time to make himself known to the others, now was the time. Gathering all of the willpower he could muster, he forced a breeze to blow through the room, strong enough to carry the card off of the table but gentle enough to lightly caress Atem’s cheek.

“It’s my turn to take care of Yoi,” he smiled as he watched his other self lean down and pick up the fallen card. “You’ve done so much as it is… Let me do the rest.”

“I told you I didn’t make the coffee this morning, Atem,” Sugoroku laughed. “Now relax.”

“Heh, alright then.” Yuugi breathed a sigh of relief as he caught Atem’s lips turning up into a small smile. He made himself comfortable on the coffee table as he sat on the pile of cards, his legs crossed on top of them as Atem placed his mug on the edge of the table. “If you’re here, Aibou, do you even know what the spell cast on you entails?”

He frowned at that, his brow furrowing as he did his best to comb through the bits and pieces of his dreams that he remembered. At this point, his access to Yoi’s memories was tenuous at best, and he found himself grasping at straws, much like how he would desperately try to remember details in dreams he had had after he was fully awake.

“Yuugi my boy, could you answer using the cards?” Sugoroku asked, the question interrupting his train of thought. After a moment of reflection, Yuugi hopped off of the table and blew as many cards as he could onto the floor, slowly arranging them into the characters for ‘no’ with little gusts of breath. He silently reflected on how much he had grown since completing the puzzle. Back then, it had been impossible for him to make any mark on the world around him in this state. Now, all he had to do was focus his sechem and even something as impossible as making cards move became possible.

A breathy laugh broke his concentration as his other self offered him a seat and explained everything that the group had understood about the spell surrounding him. Atem’s voice wavered even as his posture remained as kingly and stoic as it had been during the fiercest of battles. If it weren’t for his grandfather’s presence, Yuugi was sure that Atem would have broken down by now. But even despite all of that stoicism, Atem’s voice had a pleading edge to it, as though he could not bear to lose everything he held dear in one night as he whispered, “I’ve now told you everything I know… But Aibou, whatever it is that you decide to do… Please be careful.”

Yuugi walked back up to his room, even as it broke his heart to leave his other self in such a state, to find Yoi hunched over the desk, the sounds of furious scribbling drifting through the air as he approached. With a sudden whoosh of air from his lungs, Yoi flung himself back in his chair, arms wide and reaching for the ceiling as he arched his back and threw his head back, a quiet, contented “Done!” punctuating the silence.

“Really?” Yuugi asked as he headed closer to take a look. Spread out over the well-worn wood of the old desk were thirteen little envelopes, puffy from the letters Yoi had written to each of his friends and family. Yuugi found himself smiling as he caught a glance of his own letter, and a letter for Sumire, the only friend Yoi had made in his twelve days alive. “Wow! These letters look really nice. Great work Yoi!”

“I was supposed to see Sumire again tomorrow… You’ll give her my letter, won’t you?” Yoi stammered out, his usually bright voice suddenly conflicted and wobbly. “And say sorry for me, please… I didn’t… She didn’t know it would end like this. We both hoped I would just stop growing so fast once I hit twelve. It was the magic number that I heard everyone whisper about so…”

Never before had Yuugi been filled with such a powerful desire to scoop another person up into his arms and hold them close. Yoi was right there, but still, the magic coursing between them conspired to keep them apart. He bit his lip, flexed his fists at his side, took a deep breath, and answered as calmly as he could. “Of course I will, Yoi. And I’ll make sure that everyone else gets their letters too. Now let’s get you to bed. It’s late and I can tell that you’re barely awake at this point.”

He watched as his son hesitated, but the bags under his young eyes were clearly visible, even in the moonlight. The magic keeping them as separate people was fading. If Yuugi wanted a shot at giving Yoi a chance at life, it was now or never.

“How about we cuddle on the pouf?” Yuugi said gently, to which the young boy perked up significantly. That was right. Yoi didn’t like sleeping alone. He chuckled lightly as the boy dove onto the very squishy Kuriboh, nestling into the deep crevasse that Atem had made over the past few days and draping the blanket over himself. A contented sigh drifted out from the center of the fluffy brown Duel Monster, and Yuugi phased through it to pretend like he was lying next to Yoi.

In that very moment, he found himself jealous of Atem, desperately wishing that they could touch, that they could actually cuddle. How many nights had Atem held Yoi in his arms? And Yuugi got none. It was a bothersome fact that gave Yuugi an idea. If Yoi was meant to be a cut-off part of him, then technically they would share a soul room…

“Yoi?”

“Hmm?” the boy mumbled, clearly already falling asleep.

“Did Atem teach you about the gods and how to praise them?”

“He did…” Yoi yawned, cuddling deeper into the CuddleSac. “…when we watched the first sunrise of the year with Honda-nii…”

That was right… If Yuugi focused all of his attention on his ‘dream,’ there were clearly bits and pieces of it where Yoi and Atem were praying. “Good. Then do as I do.”

Chapter Text

Not even a minute later, Yoi opened his eyes to a brilliant sea of stars below and around him, each one sparkling and twinkling in the night sky that seemed to be solid ground and yet so far away at the same time. Excitement and wonder and awe pulsed through him at the sight, and he twirled in place to better look at it all. So stunned into silence was he that it was startling to hear his father’s voice calling out to him from above.

Yoi tipped his head back only to see an endless expanse of sand spreading out in all directions save for one, where a blur of lush greens, blues, and other colors spread in an equally endless manner. The awe once again hit him full-force as he spied the glow of a form heading in his direction, the soft white of the center devoured by the resplendent colors of blue, green, yellow, and orange that made up the blur of wings coming towards him.

“Yoi!!!” Yuugi called out as his outstretched hands smashed right into an invisible barrier, the light rippling out in waves around them. His plain black tank top and weathered blue jeans seemed to glow with an ethereal light that Yoi could only guess came from within his father. “Darn,” he chuckled darkly. “It was worth a try. Looks like our soul rooms are connected, but not fully like mine and Atem’s are.”

“So you do have wings and you glow and fly and you must know magic just like Papa told me!” the boy blabbed, quickly slapping his hands over his mouth, his eyes still wide with awe. He shook his head, almost wanting to disappear from the shame of not having believed the others but cleared his thoughts instead. This was the end. He needed to be honest and make it count. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so rude to a god.”

Yuugi’s easy smile warmed his heart and put him immediately at ease. Yoi stepped forward and placed his hands against the rippling barrier between them. If he closed his eyes he could pretend that his hands were touching his father’s. How ridiculous was it that he had only ever touched one of his parents? He laughed a bit at the stupidity of the magic that had made him and separated him from someone who looked at him with such love in their eyes. Yuugi laughed too, though Yoi felt a touch sadder at the sound. His father was upset too. He supposed that was reasonable, all things considering.

“You’re right that I’m a god, but Yoi, did Atem tell you everything?” Yoi shook his head, keeping his eyes on that gentle amethyst gaze that overwhelmed his worry and fear with calm warmth. “Atem and I are two halves of a whole, as evidenced by our combined soul rooms, and however this magic created you, you are a piece of us that is distinctly separate. If we were truly one person like everyone thought, then there wouldn’t be a barrier between us.”

“So I’m…”

“So…” Yuugi sing-songed in return. His eyes seemed to glow with an otherworldly light that entranced Yoi, putting him thoroughly at ease. “You’re the son of two gods, and you’re your own person; a separate being from us in every way.”

“So I’m not going to disappear?” Yoi whispered, his voice barely audible, so scared was he to hear the answer. He was loathe to admit it, but he didn’t want to die. There was so much more to experience in life! Twelve days wasn’t enough!

“You’re not going to die… but without your own body, you can’t live with us either.” The hope that had instantly swelled in his being at the first part of Yuugi’s sentence immediately vanished by the end of it. As though his father had sensed it, he pressed on quickly, forcing Yoi to swallow his sniffle and listen.

“You might not be able to live with us, but I know exactly where you can go.”

Yoi cocked his head to the side in thought as he contemplated an existence without a body. Would he just hop from body to body like some kind of alien, body-snatching invader, or was there simply a place for people who hadn’t died but also weren’t alive? Had he ever even been alive? His train of thought kept rocketing deeper and deeper into the philosophical realm, and he found that his head was throbbing from even attempting to answer a fraction of the crazy questions he was asking himself with the sparse amount of knowledge that he had gained in his twelve days of existence.

Suddenly he was jolted from the safe warmth of his constellation-filled soul room, a seeping, cold darkness clinging to him, wriggling into his very core, save for his right hand which had remained a bastion of warmth and safety. He shook his head and focused his vision once more, only to find a large man wearing a finely embroidered shendyt towering above him, his jackal eyes’ piercing gaze instantly causing the boy’s heart to hammer in his chest.

It was Anubis, God of the Dead.

“Heba,” the deep, gravely voice spat with more disdain than Yoi had ever heard someone use on another person. “What? You couldn’t will your offspring to live by your side, oh great god of infinite willpower?” Yoi didn’t know if he should feel terrified or outraged by the fact that his father was being insulted, but he knew to keep his mouth shut. His shaking body made sure of it.

Yuugi, on the other hand, kept a tight grip on Yoi, even as his soft voice replied, filling the darkness with light. “Willpower is not life-giving, oh Master of Secrets.” He smiled even as he bowed in reverence, making sure to bring Yoi down with him. “I know my limitations, which is why I came straight to you to fulfill my duty for the first time since it was bestowed upon me.”

Anubis scoffed at those words, but Yoi couldn’t tell if the god towering before them was angry or merely surprised. He had heard that his father had challenged and bested Anubis, but no one had been willing to tell him the story or the reason behind Yuugi’s actions. He looked to his father for guidance as they straightened out their backs and faced the god before them. All that Yuugi did in response was smile softly and give Yoi’s hand a loving squeeze.

“Very well, I will weigh what little this infant soul has accomplished,” Anubis replied as he produced a large set of golden scales from thin air, the darkness surrounding them becoming less oppressive in its holy light. “Little One,” he said as he turned to face Yoi, his eyes shimmering with intensity, “I will now judge your life and how you lived to see if you are worthy of exiting Duat and entering into Aaru. This is what you wish, is it not?”

Yoi nodded mutely, unable to do much more than feel his father’s hand grasping his or the knocking of his knees from fear. “Don’t worry,” Yuugi whispered into his ear. “I’ve gone through this more times than I can count. Just step forward and be honest with yourself.” He did as he was told, letting go of his father’s hand despite his fears and stepping up to face Anubis alone.

“Oh Guider of Souls, I place myself in your hands. Judge me as you must.”

The jackal-headed god simply stared at him for a moment in quiet contemplation before kneeling down and patting his head. As Yoi looked really carefully through the darkness, he almost thought that Anubis’ lips were slightly upturned into a small, tender smile. “Despite our strained past, your fathers have taught you well. Now close your eyes, this will only take a moment.”

He nodded once more and as soon as he had closed his eyes as directed, he felt his body become light as a feather, as though he himself were being weighed. Wasn’t it someone’s heart that was weighed upon death? But Yoi had no physical heart, no body, only the rest of his soul. Before Yoi could think too hard on the matter, he felt his body regain its weight, and opened his eyes to see a large smile on the god’s face. “You have lived an interesting, but short life. Do not fret, for you shall continue to grow and learn amongst the reeds. Life will not end here for you.”

Yuugi and Anubis exchanged other thoughts after this, but all Yoi had registered was that he was safe. He would live, albeit in a different way and far from his parents, but his existence would remain and that seemed to calm his nerves as much as the warm hands that were lingering on his shoulders. Perhaps everything would be alright after all…

The two walked past Anubis, into the depths of the darkness until suddenly, a bright a comforting light engulfed them. Just beyond his vision was a riverbank, large cattails and reeds protruding from the clear water rushing by. The soft sound of the water, the breeze rustling the reeds, and the clear blue sky beyond, all of it seemed to call out to Yoi as he walked forward, wonder and awe rushing through him as he remembered Atem’s description of Aaru. A perfect place made by the gods to welcome worthy souls into eternity.

It wasn’t until his bare feet had felt the gritty, sandy riverbank, and his baby blue pajama pants had gotten slightly wet from the lapping waves that Yoi realized that he was standing alone. He turned back, panic filling him to the brim at the idea of not having said goodbye, only to see Yuugi and Atem smiling at him. They were there. It wasn’t too late.

Yoi rushed back into the light, throwing himself into his fathers’ arms as tears violently pushed themselves past his burning eyes, his throat all raspy and knotted. He had steeled himself against this. He had used his sleepless nights to will himself not to cry when saying goodbye if it were to happen… but now, faced with it all, faced with saying goodbye to the people he cared most about, he could not stop the dam from breaking.

Hushing, soothing sounds and words gradually brought him back to the reality ahead of him, and he clung all the more to their now wet shirts as they hugged him goodbye.

“It’s okay Yoi, we’ll see you sooner than you think,” Yuugi whispered as he gave the boy one last hug.

“And besides, I believe that your grandmother would like to spend some time with you now,” Atem winked after having finally taken a step back. “We can’t keep you to ourselves anymore.”

Yoi turned back towards the Nile to see a beautiful woman on the other side of the riverbank, bathed in the same soft light that Yuugi and Atem seemed to give off in this place, her tall and imposing figure softened considerably by the tender smile on her sun-kissed face, her sheer linen dress shifting from red to blue as she waved excitedly, the dark feathers of her vulture wings gleaming in the light cast both by her body and by the sun that shone upon her.

A strange mix of excitement, awe, and sadness washed over him, and he turned back to face his parents one last time. Yoi gave them each one last hug before turning and rushing into the Nile without looking back. The large, welcoming smile and fierce hug that he received upon reaching the other side soothed his anxiety and quelled some of his sadness, and when he turned back to wave one final goodbye, he found that the bright light that had brought him to Aaru was gone. All that was left in its place was an endless expanse of shimmering, golden sand with houses and farms dotting the landscape. They were gone.

Chapter Text

Yuugi awoke in bed, his entire being on fire and aching as though he had exerted himself until collapsing. It was going to be one of those days… but rather than let himself wallow in the pain, he turned and shifted, Atem’s arms relinquishing their prize until he was successfully facing his other self. The only hint of the amount of pain he was in was the quiet whining grunt he made as he buried his face in Atem’s chest, desperate to find some relief in a different position.

“Two pills bad, Aibou?” he heard Atem whisper as a kiss was placed on the crown of his head. He simply sighed and did his best to relax in the cuddly nest he had made for himself until the position hurt too much to keep, as usual.

“It was worth it,” he replied, throwing himself out of bed all at once before he could talk himself into staying in bed for the day. He had used the full extent of his sechem to get Yoi to the afterlife, a feat that surely wouldn’t have been possible if Loki had decided to give him back his burden before the end of the night. Yuugi would have to thank his Norse friend the next time they played a game together.

Atem jumped out of bed after him, reaching over and grabbing Yuugi’s bottle of pills from the top drawer of the desk and shaking two out before handing them to his partner with a glass of water that seemingly hadn’t been there the night before. Atem’s gaze fell upon the twelve letters neatly lined up on the desk and asked, “Did Yoi write all of those last night?”

Yuugi gave an affirmative nod of his head as he threw back the two pills and downed the glass of water in one fell swoop. He was unfortunately far too practiced with handling the huge, horse-sized pills made to manage his pain. Today was definitely a soft and loose-fitting clothing day. Anything else and the pain would become more than unbearable.

“Then we should take them with us. As miserable as you’re feeling today, I’m taking you out.”

He simply shook his head and laughed, though it hurt to do so. His neck was so stiff that it felt more like a bowling ball than a body part. “And where do you intend on taking me, my pharaoh?” Yuugi teased as he slipped a lavender-colored turtleneck over his black tank top. If they were going out, he would have to really bundle up in order to keep his muscles from tensing and making the pain that much worse.

“Kaiba wants you to apologize for ruining Christmas and making him do a bunch of extra work to cover up your disappearance and Yoi’s appearance. His words, not mine.”

At that, Yuugi couldn’t do much but sputter in feigned hurt, a wide grin spreading across his face. How could either of them deny Seto’s ridiculous excuses to spend time with them?

The rest of the morning was spent slowly getting ready and relaxing while eating a light breakfast. Sumire came over mid-morning and Yuugi dutifully handed her Yoi’s letter, which she grasped tightly in her hands before bowing as deeply as she could before leaving. He had wanted to give the little girl a big hug and assure her that Yoi was alright, but even he felt the tears building up at the mere mention of Yoi not being with them, so how could he possibly help his son’s only friend with her grief?

When the time came for the two of them to head out, Yuugi could only shake his head in bemusement as a black limo pulled up beside them on the way to the metro station. Isono silently greeted them as they piled into the car, and Yuugi couldn’t help but be thankful for the ride over. Any longer and the chill would surely have settled in his bones, making it impossible for him to feel any sort of relief for the rest of the day.

Imposing and refined were the two words that usually came to mind when Yuugi arrived at the Kaiba mansion, but today, the stately manor seemed more whimsical than usual. He chalked it up to the blanket of freshly fallen snow covering the usually prim landscaping and the colorful lights that hung from the eaves and windows of the building itself.

Inside the grand double doors, the entryway seemed plain and boring, its usual decorations placed in much the same way as Yuugi had ever seen them. “I’m in the dining room,” Seto called out, which honestly Yuugi found strange, as he never knew his friend to actually sit and eat in that room unless absolutely forced to by societal requirement. The elder Kaiba was far more interested in taking what little he ate to his office to ‘do something worthwhile,’ as he so curtly put it, than to sit with company and actually carry on a conversation.

So intrigued was Yuugi by this turn of events that he didn’t notice the scuffling and muffled shushing that was happening further inside the house as he took off his coat, hat, scarf, and fuzzy winter boots. Atem did the same, pulling out the small stack of letters from his jacket pocket before they headed further in, Yuugi leading the way.

“Welcome home!!!!”

No sooner had he turned the corner to the dining room than the space around him exploded in a flash of rainbow confetti and streamers from the ceiling and party poppers from the group assembled in the center of the room. Yuugi blinked in shock as he took in his surroundings, unable to form any words as his throat siezed and his eyes burned. The long, formal dining table had been pushed to the back of the wall, a full spread of food surrounding a large, three-tier cake covered in sprinkles of all shapes and sizes with a sparkling rainbow dragon cake topper roaring on its hind legs. Three banners hung from different parts of the ceiling: one that said ‘Welcome Home!’ in scribbled-on crayon, another that said ‘Merry Christmas!’ in slightly neater red and green marker, and a third that said ‘Happy New Year!’ with much better handwriting in a mix of metallic gel pens and colored pencil. There were bunches of pastel-colored balloons filled with confetti of all different sorts tied to each chair, and streamers hung from the ceiling in each corner of the room… And in the middle were his friends, all sitting on the floor, huddled together, with tears streaming down their cheeks and big smiles on their faces.

Yuugi could feel his hands shaking as he covered his mouth in shock. What could he possibly say to all of this? Atem must have felt the torrent of feelings washing through him, as in that moment, he heard his soulmate whisper.

“Yoi planned all of this for you. We started with all of his original ideas from when he was five and it just kept growing from there.”

It was those gentle words tinged with the sweetest of bittersweet emotions that pushed Yuugi over the edge. He collapsed into the pile of waiting arms and joined them as their happiness and sadness clashed to form a beautiful symphony of sobbing laughter.

“Thanks guys… It’s good to be back.”