Chapter 1: The Gate That Did Not Open
Atem was meant to return to the Afterlife.
He knew it.
The Underworld waited for him.
The logic of death demanded it.
And yet—
somewhere between research facilities and sea light, between breath and silence, his soul became entangled with Seto Kaiba’s life.
This is not a story of reunion.
It is a story of refusal.
Refusal to disappear.
Refusal to untangle.
Refusal to let go of a life that had already begun to feel real.
When a king is turned away at the gate of death, what remains is not eternity—
but the quiet, irreversible choice to live.
This is a translation of an original work on Pixiv.
Original Title: 門前払いの王
Original Author: 葉人(@Hathor₋yuki)
Personal site: https://prideshipping.sakura.ne.jp
The Ceremonial Battle with Yugi was over.
The cards—the swords—had been laid aside.
He had said his heartfelt goodbyes to his friends.
And yet.
Atem had been turned away at the very gate of the Underworld.
“No, hang on—isn’t that a bit much?”
After a farewell like that, returning to everyone was impossible.
No—being able to return should have been something to be grateful for.
And yet his feelings were tangled beyond words.
It was awkward. Unbearably so.
The Underworld, however, had no interest in hearing his objections.
Remain in the world of the living and await judgment.
With only that decree left behind, the gate to the Underworld closed before him.
―Kame Game Shop.
Yugi Mutou’s home.
A female visitor arrived.
“Yugi Mutou. At last, I’ve found you.”
By one turn of fate after another, Atem had been drawn back into the Millennium Puzzle, bound once more to the living world.
Now returned, he drifted quietly within Yugi, living a vague, half-present existence.
At times, they took turns minding the shop.
Today, it was Yugi’s shift.
“Yes—how may I help you?”
Famed as the Duel King, Yugi was often approached by people from the card game world.
By now, he had grown accustomed to this state of affairs.
Sometimes he accepted duels.
Sometimes he was asked for advice.
Both Yugi and Atem were careful not to neglect the shop—
having once done so and suffered Solomon Mutou’s severe scolding for it.
Assuming today would be more of the same, Yugi turned his attention fully to the woman before him.
She was tall for a woman, with brown hair and long, narrow blue eyes.
The longer one looked at her, the more fragments of déjà vu surfaced.
And yet—she was unmistakably female.
As far as Yugi knew, Seto Kaiba had only one blood relative: Mokuba.
That was supposed to be the case.
Even so, she resembled Seto Kaiba far too closely.
What finally prompted him to speak was the corporate emblem pinned to her clothes.
“Um… are you perhaps acquainted with Kaiba?”
She didn’t react to the name.
Instead, she smiled—a familiar smile.
Bold, fearless, and identical to Seto’s.
“King, could you come out?”
Only those connected to the Millennium Items knew that Yugi and Atem shared one body—
and that Atem’s true identity was that of a Pharaoh.
The two exchanged a brief nod, and Atem stepped forward.
“So. You’re the judgment they mentioned?”
“That provocative attitude—I don’t mind it. Atem.”
“……!”
Only a handful of close friends should have known that name.
Atem fixed her with a sharp gaze.
“No need for such a frightening look. I’ve merely brought what you must do in order to return to the Underworld.”
As she spoke, the woman extended a single envelope.
Inside was a recruitment notice from Kaiba Corporation.
“A job offer?”
While Atem tilted his head in confusion, she continued calmly.
“You’re due to be called away soon, aren’t you?”
“…That isn’t incorrect.”
Not incorrect—but there were better ways to phrase it.
Atem’s brow furrowed slightly.
“As you can see, I work for Kaiba Corporation… but our president is the one who’s about to be summoned.”
“…Kaiba?”
The claim was abrupt enough that Atem instinctively searched her words for deception.
But his instincts told him there was none.
“Exactly. Seto—his connection with you is far too deep. Your souls are entangled beyond reason.
So when you are summoned, he gets dragged along with you.”
It was an absurd claim.
And yet—
in ancient Egypt, Seto had been the priest bound to his fate;
in the present era, his eternal rival.
If her words were true, then no matter the necessity of returning to the Underworld,
he could not take his rival with him.
“And assuming all of that is true—what exactly do you expect me to do?”
“I’m glad you’re quick on the uptake.”
Her eyes gleamed.
“You’re—”
Atem began, and she laughed, clearly amused.
“A god?”
“Correct. I was the deity who protected the priest—and later Pharaoh—Seto, your successor.
I’ve manifested here to safeguard Seto’s soul.”
Her gentle smile was wholly unsuited to either Seto or Seto Kaiba.
“Save the soul of Seto in this life—that is, Seto Kaiba.
Do that, and I’ll open the gate to the Underworld for you.”
“That’s—”
“In short, it’s a life-or-death game. I’ll leave the method to you.
If you need anything, I’ll provide it.”
As she spoke, she produced doves and various objects from empty space like a magician—
only to make them vanish again.
There were no tricks. No mechanisms.
There never were.
“For example, this body of mine, this position, even how others perceive me—
all of it is fabricated. And yet, all of it is also true.”
“I see. The power of a god.”
Atem’s expression remained provocative,
but for a single instant, his gaze searched beyond the goddess’s surface.
She noticed.
“So—what do you need?”
“Nothing for now. I’ll start with just myself.
I need to assess the situation before anything else.”
She smiled, narrowing her eyes briefly at his answer.
Then she placed a hand atop his head.
“Good boy.”
As the goddess stroked his hair, the shadows shifted, and the body split in two.
Atem and Yugi stood side by side.
Checking his own appearance, Atem cast her a half-lidded glare.
“So I’m stuck in ancient Egyptian attire?”
“Has the modern world spoiled you?
Do you prefer silver over gold now?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Once again, the goddess produced a large cloth from nowhere.
She threw it over Atem—
and when she pulled it away, he was dressed in a neat, modern suit.
In the nearby mirror, he saw the Kaiba Corporation emblem pinned to his collar.
“So you even altered my identity.”
“Convenient, isn’t it? Easy mode.”
“I suppose it is. It’ll make getting close to Kaiba much simpler.”
“Atem…”
Yugi spoke, concern in his voice.
“Don’t worry. As long as I’m here, Kaiba will be safe.
Isn’t that right, Goddess?”
“Yes. You have several conditions for victory—but as long as Seto’s soul remains intact, you cannot lose.
So… what’s your opening move?”
“Kaiba. I’m going to him.”
“Surveying the board, then. Let’s go.”
There was no hesitation.
Guided by the goddess, Atem headed toward Kaiba Corporation’s American branch.
Perhaps it was the goddess’s power—
for reasons he could not explain, Atem walked through the interior of Kaiba Corporation’s American branch as though he had always known it.
He was here to meet Seto.
Riding the elevator up toward the executive floors, stepping out into the corridor leading to the CEO’s office—
that was where he encountered him.
The moment their eyes met, Atem felt as though time had stalled, just slightly.
He recalled the goddess’s words: their souls were entangled.
Yet it wasn’t the closeness of friends.
For something “entangled,” the distance between them was strangely ambiguous—
near enough to reach, yet just out of grasp.
Seto, too, studied Atem’s face for a brief moment, then spoke a name he should not have known, his expression unsettled.
“…Atem?”
“Yeah. That’s my name.”
A man who resembled the figure carved into a stone tablet, flanked by magicians.
Dark skin, crimson eyes, and an attitude unmistakably that of a rival.
As Seto looked him over, he tilted his head slightly.
“Yami Yugi… no—Atem. I have no memory of hiring you, yet I know for a fact that you’re employed here.
What is this—another occult phenomenon?”
From Atem’s perspective, the present-day Seto Kaiba looked perfectly fine.
Lively. Sharp. Very much alive.
There was no sign whatsoever of someone “about to be summoned.”
“Kaiba, you probably won’t believe this—but you’re on the verge of death.”
Of course, Atem knew better than anyone that a realist like Seto would never accept such a claim.
Still, he began to explain the situation as it stood.
“If you can’t believe it, then think of it as a game.
The rules are simple: you don’t die.
As things stand, our souls must remain in the same world.
The event that triggers everything is my soul returning to the Underworld. That’s it.”
Faced with this absurd proposition, Seto laughed.
It was the same fearless, defiant smile the goddess had worn.
He did not look even remotely like someone standing at death’s door.
“…That’s simple enough.”
Despite the fact that this was the very moment Atem was meant to return to the Underworld, Seto declared it so without hesitation.
“Do you understand what you’re saying? Once I return, you’ll die.”
“If that’s the truth,” Seto replied coolly,
“then all you need to do is stay alive until my natural lifespan ends.
That satisfies the victory condition.”
It was only then that Atem realized something crucial.
He had never been told the time limit for this “life-or-death game.”
Presumably, the goddess was watching no matter where they were.
Atem addressed the empty air.
“Goddess of Seto. What’s the time limit?”
“I don’t mind that way of fulfilling the president’s victory condition.”
From seemingly nothing, the goddess manifested—
like a Solid Vision projection given form.
Seto blinked twice at the sight, then merely furrowed his brow and let out a small sigh.
Occult phenomena piling up one after another—
and an employee he had no memory of hiring.
It was the second time today.
“So you’re an employee as well,” Seto said.
“Yes. I know you hate the occult, President—but I usually get the job done.”
“Then here are your orders,” Seto replied flatly, already arranging the situation as if it were routine.
“You will protect Atem. Atem, you will allow yourself to be protected. Your regular duties are suspended.”
“A company employee acting as another employee’s bodyguard,” the goddess mused. “How interesting.”
Much like she had once devoted herself to Seto, the goddess now appeared willing to follow Seto’s lead.
If things continued this way, Atem would not return to the Underworld—he would simply wander the living world instead.
“Wait,” Atem interjected. “Goddess of Seto. There’s more than one way to fulfill the victory condition, isn’t there?”
“Heehee. Strategy guides are prohibited, my king,” she replied lightly.
“You’ll have to discover the victory condition yourselves.”
Seto’s solution could serve as a temporary bridge—but if Atem was to return to the Underworld, they would need to uncover another condition and fulfill it.
And the goddess already knew what it was.
Intertwined souls.
“Seto.”
“What is it.”
“We’ll undo the entanglement between our souls.”
“And how,” Seto challenged, “do you intend to manipulate a variable that cannot be seen, touched, or measured?”
The words were provocative.
But Atem had never been one to abandon a game once he had stepped onto the board.
Seto himself clearly did not believe any of this—but it was, undeniably, a game played with their lives.
“I’ll figure that out later,” Atem said. “For now, keep me by your side.”
“Denied. Be protected somewhere else, out of my way.”
“Do you have no intention of clearing this game?”
“I already have,” Seto answered coolly.
“If you remain unharmed, that suffices. And my immediate surroundings are the most dangerous place to be.”
“That’s true,” the goddess added.
“Kaiba Corporation has no shortage of enemies. The president usually deals with them personally—but still.”
“Exactly,” Seto said.
“You wander near me, expose yourself to danger, and if you die first, I’m dragged along with you. Correct?”
“…That’s—Goddess of Seto,” Atem turned sharply.
“If I die now, what happens to me?”
“If you fail to undo the entanglement,” she said, shrugging lightly,
“then the two of you will be carried to the same place.”
The gesture was casual. The weight of her words was not.
“I have orders to protect the king,” she continued, turning away,
“but I will not bend the laws of the world itself. Remember that.”
Then, almost as an afterthought, she let her true feelings slip.
“Whether you survive… or are summoned away—
the choice belongs to the two of you.”
With that, the goddess vanished.
“Goddess of Seto!” Atem called out.
His outstretched hand grasped nothing but shadow.
“…Atem.”
He turned to find Seto standing there, arms crossed, looking down at him.
“What.”
“Seto. Souls. Entanglement. That wasn’t about me, was it,” Seto said.
“What exactly are you talking about.”
For Seto, occult matters already resolved held little interest.
And yet—against his better judgment—he found himself wanting the details.
“…It’s an occult story,” Atem warned.
“I’ll listen.”
Seto led him into the president’s office.
As Atem sat down on the sofa, Seto activated the coffee machine and prepared the coffee himself.
“You’re making it yourself?” Atem asked.
“If you’re killed, the game is over, isn’t it,” Seto replied.
“If someone slipped poison into it, that would be the end.”
The aroma spread through the room, wrapping it in a quiet calm.
Atem rested his hands on the table and leaned forward slightly.
The posture drew Seto’s gaze without either of them noticing.
“So,” Atem asked, “you believe me?”
“There is no disadvantage in believing you,” Seto said.
“There is a disadvantage in not believing you.”
That unwavering realism loosened the tension in Atem’s shoulders.
“Kaiba… honestly.”
“More importantly,” Seto interrupted, “what do you mean by return?”
“Return… ah—”
To return to the Underworld meant that the “road of battle stretching beyond the unseen horizon,” the one they had sworn to walk together, would be cut short.
Seto looked at Atem as if to say you’re only realizing this now.
“…I’m sorry.”
“Tell me everything,” Seto said firmly.
“No omissions. No gaps. Everything.”
Pressed so directly, Atem began from the beginning—starting with the Egyptian exhibition in Domino City.
That he had once been a pharaoh of ancient Egypt, three thousand years ago.
That being sealed had shattered his memories.
That he had fought to reclaim them.
That he had recovered both his name and his memories, brought the battles to an end—
and that all that remained was to return.
Seto listened without interrupting until Atem had finished.
“And Seto,” Seto said at last. “Who is he.”
“The man of the Tablet of Lost Memories. Your past life,” Atem answered.
“The priest I entrusted the throne to as I lay dying. My cousin… earnest…?”
“That priest,” Seto cut in,
“was staging a rebellion in the visions we saw during our duels.”
“That was… a misunderstanding, or rather, a failure to communicate.
But Seto is a man more than worthy of being king.”
“…If that man didn’t exist,” Seto said coolly,
“I wouldn’t be on the brink of death right now.”
He exhaled softly and took a sip of his coffee.
“It’s the opposite,” Atem replied.
“If Seto hadn’t existed, you wouldn’t be alive here at all.”
“Even if that’s true,” Seto said, setting the cup down,
“what do you intend to do with our souls? I will not assist in occult experiments.”
He paused, drawing a slow breath.
Atem’s eyes flashed with sudden light.
“Relax,” Atem said.
“About what.”
“The occult items you hate are buried deep beneath the desert.”
“That is not what I meant.”
Seto was staring out the window, his gaze fixed on some distant point.
He felt no sense of being on the brink of death.
He did not believe it—yet if it were true, then countermeasures had to be prepared.
All he had to do was protect Atem.
That was Seto’s victory condition.
Far more realistic than Atem’s vague plan to untangle their souls.
“I know you don’t believe in souls,” Atem said.
“But from my perspective, the bond is undeniable. The one who stood beside me back then was Seto.”
“…Tell that man to change his name. It’s confusing.”
“Don’t be unreasonable. I was shocked too, you know—finding out you and Seto shared the same name. If I’d had my memories back then, maybe you and I could’ve gotten along—”
“That won’t happen.”
“…Perhaps not.”
Atem and Seto had never been close like friends.
Even if both of them had retained their memories, they likely would not have been.
More than that—Atem’s sacrifice when sealing the dark god would probably have earned him nothing but severe reprimand.
“I can fulfill my victory condition,” Seto said coolly.
“How do you intend to fulfill yours?”
“For now, staying close to you and looking for a clue in that entanglement is the only option.”
“I already rejected that.”
His unyielding stance only sharpened Atem’s frustration.
“Then I can’t return. A soul meant to return should not remain here.”
“Assuming your story is true,” Seto replied,
“a human lifespan is a mere “margin of error” compared to three thousand years.”
“That may be so,” Atem said,
“but there’s a risk my soul could wander too long and lose its way back.”
Seto’s fingertips brushed against Atem’s wrist.
Warm.
A living, undeniable warmth.
“…You can be touched. You have warmth. You’re alive.”
Atem’s eyes widened—and yet he did not pull away.
In that fleeting contact, the entanglement of their souls seemed to resonate beneath his skin.
“If we truly are entangled…”
After that preface, Seto looked straight at Atem.
“Then all I have to do is take you with me when I die.”
For reasons he could not explain, unease stirred deep within Atem.
“Kaiba…”
“I don’t care if we’re entangled,” Seto continued.
“There’s no tangible harm.”
“So that’s your conclusion…”
Atem could only sigh at Seto’s unwavering realism.
An entanglement that could not be seen, touched, or felt—
to him, it might as well not exist.
Perhaps there were others in the world bound by similar destinies.
As long as Atem remained alive, nothing would happen to Seto, and Atem himself would be guarded by the goddess.
If Seto would not budge, then Atem would simply have to change his approach.
“Alright. Then I’ll try approaching this from another angle.”
“And where will you start?”
“Egypt. I’ll trace Seto’s path.”
As Atem moved to stand, Seto caught his arm.
He did not know why he had stopped Atem from leaving for Egypt.
The reason eluded even himself.
Without meeting Atem’s eyes, he spoke a single word.
“…Permission granted.”
“Hm?”
“You’re permitted to remain around me. Do as you like.”
“That’s sudden.”
“Pursue your soul research to your heart’s content. If you need facilities, I’ll have them built.”
There was something suspicious about Seto’s abrupt cooperation, but Atem did not hesitate.
“Then I’ll take you up on that.”
When Atem smiled, Seto released his arm.
Then, to Atem’s surprise, he laughed—almost amused.
“That said… Atem, was it?”
“What?”
“No. I was just thinking you’ve become far less guarded than before.”
At that, Atem’s eyes widened.
“Less guarded?”
“Less guarded.”
Seto repeated it. His voice was calm, but beneath it lurked calculation.
Atem merely tilted his head, his usual provocative composure intact.
Normally, that attitude would have sparked irritation. But now—something was off.
Without putting it into words, Seto reassessed the man standing before him.
An unwelcome intruder.
An explanation that made no sense.
And yet—an inexplicable certainty carried in his bearing.
“If you’re unaware of it,” Seto said, “that only makes it more troublesome.”
They did not clash.
They did not draw closer.
A brief silence formed, one in which they simply measured each other.
A faint thorn of discomfort lodged itself deep in Seto’s chest.
Something is different than before.
But it was too soon to grasp what it was. Seto chose not to press further, averting his gaze just slightly.
“And on top of that—your attitude. Your sense of caution is gone.”
His eyes swept over Atem without mercy, yet there was something almost entertained in the look.
“Caution?”
Atem stared at his own hands, then up at the ceiling.
“…I don’t think that’s the case.”
“Intent is irrelevant. Reality is.”
Seto’s voice was quiet—but it carried truth. He was not a man who spoke in jest.
Atem’s heart skipped.
“The threat is gone. That’s probably why…”
As Atem faltered, Seto set his cup down and rose from the sofa.
“Hmph. You’ve become rather endearing.”
The remark sounded like a joke—
but it was anything but.
Atem looked away instinctively, but Seto closed the distance, leaving him nowhere to retreat.
“…What?”
“It’s simply a fact. Accept it.”
Atem had no idea how to respond.
“No—seriously, that’s—”
Seto’s lips curved faintly, though his gaze remained sharp.
“Relax. It wasn’t an insult.”
“…Kaiba.”
“What.”
“…You’re acting… strange.”
They were talking over coffee—like ordinary friends.
The words trailed off, and Atem turned his face aside.
“…There’s no need to worry,” Seto said at last. “For both our sakes, I’ll protect you.”
With that single sentence, the tension in Atem’s chest eased—just a little.
“…I see.”
“…So,” Seto continued, smiling, “what’s your first move?”
That smile—bold, fearless—
was unmistakably the same as the goddess’s.
