After finally reaching the afterlife, Kaiba discovers that defeating Atem solved nothing.
They duel. They argue. They keep talking.
What begins as unfinished rivalry slowly becomes routine: Kaiba starts commuting to the afterlife, modernizes the underworld, brings work with him, and somehow becomes part of Atem's daily life.
Somewhere between impossible technology, terrible first greetings, endless conversations, and far too many duels, Atem realizes something unexpected.
His greatest rival has quietly become the person he wants to see most.
This is a translation of an original work on Pixiv.
Original Title: 話してみた結果
Original Author: 葉人(@Hathor₋yuki)
Personal site: https://prideshipping.sakura.ne.jp
I had visited the Underworld, fought three duels back to back, and then retreated to a room to talk.
Final score: two to one, my favor. Coming all this way and still performing like that — the man really was something else.
"Thank you for protecting Aibou back then."
Because of that, I'd been able to intervene in the living world and save everyone — save the world itself. If Aibou had been taken out first, none of it would have been possible.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"I figured you'd think — even if Aibou went down, you could handle Diva yourself."
"I have no objection to defeating enemies with cards. I simply don't recall making a specialty of monster extermination."
And yet this was the same man who had set his sights straight on the enemy and been the first to step forward to fight — all to protect the world.
"But you were the one who faced it first."
"Do you think I'd allow something like that to run loose right in front of me?"
"That's just the kind of guy you are, sure. But why drag Aibou into it?"
He was the type who never asked for help and faced things alone — so when he'd proposed a tag team, it had caught me off guard.
The man in front of me answered as though it were obvious.
"I told you. Monster extermination is not my specialty. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. The standard approach against the occult is to counter with occult. I simply determined that sort of thing was your department."
Occult — he said it and pointed straight at me.
Seto Kaiba, as ever. Every word out of his mouth, perfectly rational. Not a thing had changed.
"I'm the occult?"
"What else would your specialty be?"
"I don't have a specialty."
So I was the occult division. A rather blunt way to put it.
"I knew guns would be useless. He would have taken us out first. The cards were to draw his attention while we countered with willpower."
"Right, the gun — speaking of which, don't bring one of those into this world."
Of all things, this man had come to the Underworld armed.
I'd been enjoying a leisurely look at his face after so long, and he'd put a shot right past my ear. The throne had a crack in it now, and a new one was being rushed into production.
He hadn't come to kill me — I was already dead, for one — but he'd ignored every summons and gone straight back to the Underworld without so much as showing his face, so I'd started to wonder if I'd finally pushed him too far.
Apparently not.
"Since ancient times, the stronger weapon wins the battle. Bronze is no match for iron. I wasn't about to walk unarmed into a foreign land I knew nothing about."
So bringing the gun had been perfectly rational. Naturally.
"Then why did you fire it?"
"A greeting. I didn't hit you, did I."
Same as ever. This man hadn't changed one bit.
As it turned out, it got me moving fast enough. Rational. Calculated.
Still, that kind of greeting was just a threat by another name.
"That's not a greeting, that's intimidation. Though I'll give you this — your aim is something."
"Rest easy. The round loaded for you was one. The rest were blanks."
So it was a threat after all.
And he was implying he still had more on him.
"I'm allowed a little sentimentality about reunions, you know. Let me have that."
"If someone attacked while you were standing around feeling sentimental, I'd be the one who had to fight them. Which would, in a roundabout way, be for your benefit."
"I'm not quite composed enough to get sentimental in the middle of a firefight."
"Firefight? Try one-sided slaughter. You weren't going to let that happen. That's what the greeting was for."
Right. The stronger weapon wins.
His decision-making was so rational that the methods stopped making any sense.
Though his methods had never made much sense to begin with.
"Next time you come, I'll let everyone know in advance — so leave the gun behind. It's bad for the heart."
"What does a dead man have to worry about at this point."
First the occult division, now the dead man. For someone who'd made good use of me in what he called monster extermination, he certainly had a way with words.
Goading people in a fight was one thing I was good at — but in plain conversation, I had no chance of winning a war of words. That impression hadn't changed either.
Though maybe the fact that he'd loosened up enough to sit around chatting — maybe that was new. Or maybe he'd always been like this.
I didn't know him well enough to say.
We'd never had the chance to talk like this, the two of us.
"Talking to you makes me lose track of what I even am."
Occult specialist. Dead man. Monster exterminator. Surely he didn't think of me as a king.
"My rival. My eternal opponent, Atem. What else is there?"
The answer came without hesitation. So that much was true.
Rival. Right — there was that.
"Now that I think about it, this is the first time you've ever called me by name."
"Of course it is. You were never here. When was I supposed to call it?"
Fair enough. Everything he said was grounded, factual. The gap in persuasive power between us was too wide. No wonder I couldn't win with words.
"What did you even come here for."
I'd assumed that once he won, the obsession would fade and he'd move on. Find a new opponent somewhere.
"To duel. You were the one who suggested we talk."
That was true, actually. I'd been the one to suggest it — I hadn't had the energy for a fourth round.
This man, a stamina monster if there ever was one, had been standing there with his Duel Disk at the ready, perfectly composed, even after the third duel ended.
"I forgot."
I said it honestly, and he let out a short breath of a laugh. Exasperated, probably.
"And here I am, going along with it…"
"Hey, I appreciate it. I really do."
That was true. The chance to talk with someone as an equal was almost nonexistent — in this world, I was king. No friends here, either.
"How gracious."
"You're going along with my conversation — that goes both ways, you know."
"That's one way to look at it."
He'd once said that once he'd beaten someone, the interest was gone — he'd just make a new rival. That's what he'd said.
The second duel had been his win. And yet he hadn't left. He'd gone straight into a third.
Because somewhere along the way I'd been promoted from rival to eternal opponent — so the logic held.
"Eternal opponent, huh."
"Any objections?"
"None. I'm honored."
Evenly matched in skill. There was no way this fight could be anything but fascinating.
"That's unusually straightforward of you."
"I've realized I can't beat you in a war of words. A major discovery."
"Everyone in the living world already knows that — but for you to figure it out here, in this ancient realm, makes you the first. A remarkable achievement. I commend you."
Whatever you say, he'll top it. This man was definitely born talking.
"Oh? Am I getting a prize?"
"Do you want one?"
"I'm curious. You giving something to someone — that's not an image that comes to mind."
"Is that so."
He reached into the inner pocket of his coat as he spoke.
Not a gun, I hope. I was thinking exactly that when out came a single white card.
He held it out. I took it and turned it over.
"Oh — this is—!"
A photo. Of everyone.
Aibou, Joey, Tristan, Téa, Bakura, Duke. Familiar faces, all of them, grinning and flashing peace signs.
"Yugi gave it to me. I have no use for something like that. What does that idiot think I am."
True — a photo like this had no place with this man.
He was the one who had believed in Aibou's existence and entrusted him with the Puzzle at the cost of himself.
So without a doubt, Aibou had given this to him thinking — someday, they'll meet again — and this man had carried it carefully all the way here.
Come to think of it, this was someone who had thrown himself in the way of a world on the verge of destruction. Even if it was to hand things off to an occult specialist who happened to be dead.
Maybe he was kinder than he let on. Actually looked after people. You could see that just from watching him with his brother.
"You really don't change, do you."
"Who do you think you're talking to."
"Kaiba…"
"What."
"Thank you."
"I don't need your thanks. I merely recognized a worthy achievement."
He smiled, just faintly. Or at least, it seemed that way.
Would this man come back here again?
He had a place in the living world. If he wanted an opponent, Aibou was right there. No matter what he called me — eternal opponent — this was never his world to begin with.
"Don't you have a photo of yourself?"
At that, he blinked — genuinely caught off guard, just for a moment.
Had I said something that strange?
"Is the real thing not enough? No matter — the Duel Disk has a log function. Pull from that and I can produce footage of myself."
I followed the steps he showed me, and a projection of Seto Kaiba appeared — from just a few moments ago.
"Life-size. Impressive."
I looked at the figure standing quietly there.
"The log is accurate."
"You know, when you're not talking, you're really something. Does anyone ever tell you that?"
"Talking or not, the entire world is devoted to me. Words are a weapon."
"Still arming yourself."
Conceited, I thought — but this man only ever stated facts. So it was probably a fact.
"If it's useful, you deploy it."
Fair enough.
Archaeological excavations. An orbital elevator. A new Duel Disk model. In the past year, the technology of the living world had advanced at a staggering pace. This man's doing.
"Why me?"
"What do you mean."
"Your rival. Why me, specifically."
He looked openly exasperated — then closed his eyes and laughed, shoulders shaking. I hadn't said anything that funny.
"…You win and disappear on me, and then you ask who else could possibly do it. …Do you have any idea how long I spent looking."
His voice wasn't laughing anymore. He'd genuinely spent time searching.
Given everything he'd accomplished to get here, I supposed I had no choice but to accept the title with some humility.
"That's — I'm sorry about that. I should have at least said something before I left."
"You thought saying something would let you escape?"
I hadn't been running away.
The reconstruction of the Puzzle. The dimensional shift. Obsession is a terrifying thing. There was no outrunning someone like this.
"I wasn't running. This is where I'm supposed to be. The same way you belong in the living world."
"I exist in both the living world and this one."
"Not everyone can manage that."
"I can, which is why I'm standing here."
That was also a fact. He'd pulled it off, so here he was. The intelligence, the aptitude, the will — all of it aligned perfectly, and he'd found his way here and walked right in. Unbelievable.
So the question I'd had earlier — would he come back? — the answer was looking more and more like yes.
"I suppose that's true."
"Then that settles it."
How he'd managed it, I had no idea.
It all made sense to him, I was sure — some perfectly coherent theory — but I doubted I'd ever fully understand it.
"People must tell you you're so smart they have no idea what you're thinking. Does that happen?"
"What now. The world at large certainly has that impression, I'd imagine."
"Figured."
Not conceited — just accurate. Probably.
"What exactly is your angle, flattering me like this."
"Flattering — well… yeah, I suppose I am."
"I'm witnessing something rare."
"Glad to hear it."
Talking to him, I felt like I was starting to understand this man — and at the same time, like I understood nothing at all. A strange feeling.
I'd recognized him as a rival, believed in a battle that stretched as far as the eye couldn't see — and then the connection had been severed, just once.
Keeping this going hadn't been something I could have done alone. He'd combined any number of extraordinary things to find his way here.
I was genuinely sorry for that, and grateful, and I acknowledged it.
"Your achievement will be told for ages. Far longer than three thousand years."
"Flatter me all you like. But that thing is scheduled for destruction eventually. If I die, for instance, it collapses automatically."
"Destroying things again. You do love that."
He'd destroyed Alcatraz too, just because he didn't need it anymore.
"There's no reason to leave behind things that have no use. And before that happens, I intend to retrieve the occult items and bring them here. I've worked out the principles — but those too are things with no further use."
"Don't go analyzing them. You have no sense of romance."
"Romance? In those things?"
"For me they're — look, they have sentimental value, alright."
"I couldn't care less."
He'd probably collect everything except the Puzzle he'd already brought back and haul it all here. He was the type to follow through on what he said.
"……Hey. Did you just say when I die and bring them here? You're coming here? To stay?"
"A human body deteriorates eventually. When the time comes, I'll come here. What's the problem?"
"This is the Underworld from three thousand years ago."
"And what's the problem with that."
"I'd think your soul has somewhere it's supposed to return to — some dimension—"
I understood. He intended to exist in both.
The same way he'd managed to exist in both the living world and this one.
"Don't think you can run from me."
"I know. I'm not running or hiding. Hide-and-seek with you isn't a game I'd win."
What a rival to end up with.
Making promises that stretched past death itself, to someone still living.
Fine. Let him do what he wants.
Because the alternative was getting hunted down, caught, and then probably having this entire world declared unnecessary and dismantled, with me relocated to some other dimension.
"Alright then."
Who in any world treats a king like this? If you're going to choose this world, at least tone down the condescension a little.
Not that I'd say that — I couldn't win with words.
"Talking to you makes me feel like I should go ahead and abdicate."
"Don't abdicate. Keep going."
"Why."
"If you step down, who handles the monster extermination."
"You're the only one who sees me as nothing but a combat operative."
Though looking strictly at the results — that's exactly what I'd been. Also a fact.
"Right person, right role. Work a little harder."
"I work every day. I had an audience before you came barging in."
"……"
"What."
"Someone like Isono — if I dropped him in here, he'd sort things out efficiently. Though getting him to this world would be impossible, I suppose."
Isono. At least his ego isn't as strong as yours. Lucky for him.
"Don't drag other people into this."
"You call yourself a king? Is this world going to stay inefficient forever?"
The one person who least thinks of me as a king — and he's the one saying this.
Though he probably only said it because it was a fact. Even if he didn't think of me as one.
"I'll figure it out."
"I'll make you an efficient manual. Tell me your daily schedule."
"Let me work at my own pace."
"And when exactly do you plan to make time for me? You need to compress your working hours."
"You're busy too. That makes us even."
"I can work from here. I confirmed communications were functional when I arrived. Meetings, decisions — I can handle all of it from this world."
"That's absurd."
Who comes to the Underworld and keeps working?
Well — he would. He'd said it, so he'd do it.
Fight here, work here. Perfectly rational.
"You'd better accept it."
The technological power of this man was monstrous. And you couldn't exterminate that kind of monster. The modernization of this Underworld was probably only a matter of time.
There wouldn't be many who'd object to development.
"Fine. I'll make you a room."
"Good decision."
A puppet king. This man had no attachment to the world — he'd never actually do something like that — but that's what it felt like.
I couldn't win with words.
He was apparently making progress analyzing the Millennium Items too, so it was only a matter of time before the technology got there as well.
"What drives you to go this far."
"That would be you, Atem."
I'd thought as much.
He'd been saying it this whole time — he wouldn't let me go. And he meant what he said.
"I thought you'd be satisfied once you beat me."
"I won't be. Not even if we go to the ends of what can be seen."
"What a rival I've ended up with."
"Be glad."
Should I simply be glad?
Peace and quiet — I might as well give that up.
"Well, alright. You're coming back anyway. Looking forward to it. Take care of yourself."
"Likewise."
I held out my hand, and he actually shook it — proper, firm, both hands gripping solidly.
"Just leave the gun behind next time."
"What's acceptable, then?"
Why does he look like he's enjoying this.
"What do you mean, what's?"
"My background is arms manufacturing. My knowledge of weapons is rather extensive."
"No weapons. I'll make sure everyone's informed."
"I'll refrain from bringing any."
"And don't make any either. Let's keep things peaceful. I'm aiming for a tolerant world."
"A world without competition."
Walked right into that one.
"Don't get any ideas."
If the tide of capitalism came rolling in here, it'd be out of hand.
"You'd best get your legal framework in order first. Well — I'll take your intentions into account. I'll limit it to something like a Kaiba Land."
That wasn't exactly necessary either. The people would probably love it, and since he'd said it he'd do it, so there was no stopping him.
The world was being encroached upon. Saturated, slowly, with Seto Kaiba.
Maybe I was next. Modernization, the advance of civilization — an inevitable tide for any people.
"Alright, deal. That's what we'll go with."
"For today, I'll settle for that."
"For today — are you planning more?"
"There's no shortage of things to get started on."
"From a modern person's perspective, sure."
This world has its own charms, you know.
"You were a modern person yourself, not too long ago."
True enough.
The president was apparently heading back. He stood, and I stood with him.
"Heading out?"
"For now."
"I'll have the room ready by next time."
His coming back, working here — those were already decided. Nothing to do but accept it.
"Then consider this payment for the room."
"A smartphone?"
"Yes. Messages, videos, shopping, work — whether you'll use any of it is up to you. Do with it what you like."
"I don't know anyone's contact information."
"I have the details of everyone you'd recognize. Already registered."
That sounded like something that would be called a personal data violation. Ah — the fact that I'd even thought that probably meant the modern world hadn't quite left me yet.
And he was being kind, but he was still fundamentally not normal.
"That… helps."
The diplomatic answer. The only one available. Words — not a chance.
"I'll be back soon. My room request — I want it next to yours."
Next door was just empty space. That much was fine, probably. Out of my sight, Kaiba Corporation's technological capabilities would have the others won over in no time.
"Understood. Take care going back. See you."
"Until next time."
He'd come in pointing a gun at me — but now, leaving, his expression was something else entirely. Calm. Easy.
Having a next time with someone — that was something I was a little happy about.
It was something I'd been avoiding since the moment I'd learned where I was meant to return to.
And he'd offered it so simply.
What a fine rival I'd found.
I'd have to get the room ready, brief the attendants, prepare properly for a visit.
His projection was still up on the display — and yes, when he wasn't talking, that type was really something to look at. Confirmed to be a good person at the core. Just so much wasted potential in other ways.
Though there were still things about him I didn't understand.
He'd said soon — but when exactly was he planning to come? Part of me was already looking forward to it.
We'd only talked a little, but he'd become someone I was curious about. The entire world devoted to him — yeah, probably a fact.
I wasn't devoted. But I did find him interesting.
The president of a company with absurdly advanced technology started coming regularly, just as he'd said he would.
If anything, he seemed to be spending more time in the Underworld than in the living world.
He got a lot of work done here. Apparently it suited him surprisingly well.
"Hey. You really do come a lot."
"I sleep well here. Back there I have to keep an eye out for assassination attempts."
That was not a peaceful thing to say.
"This isn't a shelter, you know."
"Near enough."
From a visitor's perspective, maybe — but the idea of treating it as something to make use of was strange to begin with. If he was genuinely coming here partly as a refuge, it was rational, and everything he said was accurate, but still.
"Ready to go today? I'm prepared."
He'd pushed a manual on me once — I'd gone along with it and followed it, and things got done with extraordinary efficiency, and since then it had become the standard for how this world operated.
The Underworld had been swiftly overtaken by Seto Kaiba.
"Obviously."
He was taking off his suit jacket and strapping on his Duel Disk.
It might be perfectly normal for him, but no matter how many times I saw it, I couldn't get used to it.
"Doesn't that suit get in the way when you're dueling?"
"The school uniform gets in the way more."
He had a point. Similar, when you thought about it.
"So you always thought I looked restricted."
"What do you expect. For mobility, Joey's got you beat."
He had thought that. Called it.
"Fair enough, probably. I just can't get used to seeing it."
Nothing he said was wrong, so I couldn't argue.
And even if I tried to argue, I wasn't going to win.
"This is what I wear day to day. I run tests in it too. I don't change just for this."
"Changing is a hassle, yeah."
That outfit of his looked like a production to get into.
"It's not a hassle — it's a matter of efficiency and presence."
The white coat was certainly his trademark, that much was true.
I'd borrowed it once and tried it on — it hadn't suited me at all. He was tall, so the thing was enormous on me.
I'd stood next to his projection to compare, and lost completely on every count. How many gifts did the heavens give this man.
"Public image and all that, I suppose."
But the suit or not, the same aggressive playstyle came with it, and I wished he'd tone that down.
Somehow my win rate felt worse.
"You seem less fired up than usual today, and we haven't even started."
Probably the outfit.
He had no idea it was his own fault.
"It's just — you look like your attack power went up or something."
"I'm not carrying weapons."
"Keep it that way."
Another shot past my ear would be too much to take.
First one had grazed the side of my head, then next time the barrel had been pointed straight at me.
Even if they were blanks — harsh. Effective for getting me moving quickly, granted.
"Did you get the legal framework sorted?"
"I did. Something called the Firearms and Swords Control Law. Don't bring any — it's prohibited."
"Whether it applies to the dead is unclear — but what about biological weapons? Poison?"
"You haven't—"
"I'm not carrying any."
"Good. That's a relief."
We moved to the main hall and started the game — and yes, his attack power still looked higher.
The coat was usually more imposing, so it was strange.
"What's the matter — is that all you've got!"
The mismatch between that energy and the look was what was getting to me. Was this what they called a gap?
My cards weren't letting me down, at least.
It was just — somehow his presence was sapping my will to trash talk, and he didn't care at all.
The suit was still better, though.
"Whatever you do — don't come in the lab coat."
"What are you talking about."
There'd been one time he'd shown up in a lab coat.
"I lose because of what you're wearing."
"Blaming that now, are we."
That day he'd come in a lab coat with protective goggles still on — he'd taken the goggles off and had them hanging around his neck, but still.
It had apparently been bad for my mental state, because I'd lost more than I won.
"You've been appearing inside the castle lately out of nowhere. What happened to that transport?"
"Nanomachines."
"Nanomachines?"
"I had them put in so I could use it anywhere, anytime. In other words, I am the device."
Now there was a passionate rival if I'd ever seen one.
"Should I be thanking you for that?"
"I can extract them at any time. Don't worry about it."
He said not to worry, so presumably I didn't need to. But it was impossible not to.
"Choose your methods a little more carefully."
"This is the result of doing exactly that."
The suit-wearing man in front of me kept pressing forward aggressively. Blue-Eyes Ultimate, please give it a rest.
At least my cards didn't betray me. They gave me comfort.
Not that the suit was betraying me either, strictly speaking.
"Well — if it's the result of you thinking it through, I suppose there's nothing to be done."
He was smart enough that half the time you couldn't tell what he was thinking.
Once I'd mentioned that the tie kept catching my eye, and since then he'd fixed it with a tie clip, so he was considerate in his own way.
"Your concentration is slipping."
I was concentrating. If it looked otherwise, whose fault did he think that was.
Blame it on being too good-looking when he kept quiet.
There'd been times I'd lost because the stray thought — am I actually shallow? — had crept in and distracted me.
"Same to you."
My best attempt at a counter.
"My mind is perfectly clear."
The exchange of cards didn't stop.
I had to focus or I'd get destroyed.
Four duels, and we managed a draw — but the suit was a hazard.
"A draw."
"Because you were thinking about something else."
Win or lose, he kept that same tone. What was that about.
The suited man was undoing and retying his tie. He could have taken it off before we started.
"You know, I'm starting to lose track of who you even are."
"That's cold. I've gotten a decent read on you by now."
Whatever his decent read amounted to was unclear — but if he said he'd gotten a read, he'd gotten a considerable one. He wasn't the type to say he understood something without being certain.
"Sorry about that."
Without a word, he reached over and ruffled my hair into a complete mess. He'd been doing that a lot lately.
Don't worry about it — probably something like that.
"It's nothing new."
If anything, it had been worse.
"You're staying tonight, yeah?"
"Yes. I'm going to Japan tomorrow so the timing works out."
"Where are you coming from?"
"I was in Canada until just now."
"Take a plane."
"That's precisely what's inefficient. A waste of time."
Who in the world traveled from Canada to Japan via the Underworld.
It was efficient, I understood that — but something seemed to be missing. In his case it was always extreme. Though that was just how he was.
"You're the only one who could say that."
"I'm the one saying it. What's the problem."
"Fair enough."
"Is your evening free?"
"It is — thanks to that manual."
"Good to hear."
In terms of results, it was good, yes.
Though it had led to things like — now we can work more, or we could be even more efficient — and that kind of momentum was building.
This world was thoroughly being taken over.
"Something new to play?"
"Yes — something heavy, just developed. Two players. Shouldn't take more than two hours at most."
Given the speed this man moved, two hours felt plenty heavy.
"Does that include setup and explanation?"
"You don't need a proper walkthrough."
"Come on, give me a real one anyway."
"It's a matter of instinct. Play a little and you'll get it."
He said so, so probably true.
He'd said he had a decent read on me by now — and in practice, I'd never been lost on the rules.
His decent read probably covered quite a lot.
"If you say so, I'll probably manage. I'll trust you on this one."
"…That being said — hiring you might not be a bad idea."
That face. He's serious. This president is genuinely trying to hire a king.
Don't put the dead to work.
"I'm fine where I am. I'm an occult specialist, dead, and in the monster extermination business."
Don't make me work any harder than this.
You and your monster stamina are a different species.
Efficiency monster, more like. Either way — this man was definitively not human.
"For what it's worth, the people of this world have me working plenty."
"What?"
That was news to me.
"You didn't know? Mostly infrastructure work, I'd imagine — but the Kaiba Construction division has been well-received."
"Are you — working more than I am?"
"I've been on-site more than you, yes. Though it's more worthwhile than sitting on a plane."
That standard made no sense.
Well — the president himself, showing up to the site. Much appreciated, all things considered.
"Thanks for — all this, for this world."
"It's for the construction of Kaiba Land."
"You hadn't given up on that."
"Have I ever given up on anything?"
For this man — never. Not a chance.
No compromise, no holding back. That was Seto Kaiba.
"No. I already gave you permission. Go ahead with Kaiba Land — do what you want with that."
A suited man at a construction site.
Whether he'd blended into this world or not — picturing it was genuinely surreal.
"Construction has already begun."
That was also news.
"When did that happen."
"The day after you gave permission."
As fast as ever, this president.
We played games until late into the night, went to sleep, woke up — and he was gone.
Gone to Japan, probably.
Japan. I wondered how everyone was doing.
The first day I'd reached out to everyone had been a disaster.
Just as I'd thought, he'd somehow gotten hold of everyone's contact information — and apparently, thanks to that, the display name showing up on their phones had been Seto Kaiba, so:
Aibou had answered with "Kaiba, honestly!" and been properly annoyed,
Joey had answered with "The hell, Kaiba!" and yelled at me,
Tristan had picked up normally but was pretty shocked,
Téa hadn't answered for a while so I'd left a message — though that turned out to be a time zone issue,
Bakura, shamelessly, had spent a while thinking I actually was Seto Kaiba,
and Duke had been his usual self.
I'd have appreciated it if he'd sorted out the contact information situation before the infrastructure.
If I'd said so upfront, he might have handled it — but there was no way I could have anticipated that.
I'd pull up his footage on the log and give him a piece of my mind.
Yesterday's suited version — visuals mattered.
I pulled up yesterday's log from the Duel Disk and was busy complaining at the projection, when particles of light began gathering — and before I knew it, the man himself had shown up.
Different suit from yesterday, but suited nonetheless. A hazard on the eyes.
"Atem? What are you doing?"
"Shouldn't you be in Japan?"
Two suited men. When he wasn't talking, he really was something. So please — keep talking.
"I came to pick up the equipment for Kaiba Land here. So — was something wrong with yesterday's me?"
"I just — wanted to see your face. That's all."
The embarrassment of being caught doing exactly that.
"……"
No, please — I'm begging you, don't go quiet. This is mortifying.
"Kaiba?"
That was it — he was shaking, holding back laughter.
Just laugh. Full volume. Get it over with.
"…I see. So that's how it is."
"How what is."
"You've finally fallen for me."
"Fallen? I've — developed feelings for you? Impossible."
"I'd had a faint sense of it building."
Faint? Since when?
Impossible. But this man only stated facts.
And he was, undeniably, something to look at when he kept quiet.
"Damn. So I'm just shallow after all."
"You're not. Atem, what you like about me is how I act. My decision-making, my follow-through — all of it."
"You're lying. Isn't it the face?"
"I only state facts. But if you like the looks too, all the better. Be as glad as you want."
Facts only. That much I knew very well.
If it was a fact, there was nothing to be done.
Nothing — and yet.
First things first. Resistance. That was what had to happen.
"Just let me resist my own feelings for a little while."
"What for."
"This is too sudden. I need to sort myself out."
"Futile — but do as you like."
"We're from different worlds, for one thing."
"I exist in both."
He'd probably have a solution for every other problem I threw at him.
After all, I couldn't win with words.
"I'm a king and you're a president, and we're both men."
"Isn't yours a peaceful and tolerant world."
I did say that. And his memory was as monstrous as everything else.
"You don't have feelings for me yet."
"Since when? I've been fond of you for some time."
That problem had just been solved instantly.
"Since when, exactly."
"I realized it when I fired the shot. There's nothing like an experiment to bring things to light."
That seemed harsh.
"Even so — for something like this, I'd have preferred a more ordinary moment."
"I thought as much, which is why I arranged plenty of ordinary moments."
That was true. Games while talking, easy moments — there had been plenty of those.
"So I walked right into a carefully arranged trap."
"Did you? Well then — was that enough futile resistance?"
Give it up. Admit it.
The resistance had ended in failure.
There was no outrunning this man if he decided to come after you — that much I knew.
"Yeah. I surrender. Looking forward to whatever comes next."
"Likewise."
I held out my hand, and he took it — solid grip, both hands, just like before.
Well. The suited man looked pleased.
Might as well take a page from his book and stop fighting it.
Spring had come. That's what this was.
Dead, and somehow a living person had become my partner. That much, at least, ought to be allowed.
Looks that were thoroughly, completely my type. Too smart to know what he was thinking half the time. Kind and attentive underneath it all. The thing I liked most, apparently, was how he acted — though I hadn't been aware of that myself. That was the kind of partner he was.
