Atem keeps his tablet at a hundred percent. He takes the lit corridor even when a shorter one exists. He never turns the lights off, and there are always priests somewhere behind him.
Every one of these has a rational explanation, and Kaiba accepts each of them — until the explanations start being a little too tidy.
Three thousand years is a long time to count in the dark. Long enough that knowing it's over isn't the same as believing it.
This is a translation of an original work on Pixiv.
Original Title: 数えられない夜
Original Author: 葉人(@Hathor_yuki)
Personal site: https://prideshipping.sakura.ne.jp
To Seto Kaiba, Atem is the one rival of his lifetime.
That he was a king of ancient Egypt three thousand years ago, and that he is now king of the afterlife, are no more than titles attached to that.
Seto visits the afterlife at regular intervals and Duels Atem.
Winning and losing matter, but that alone isn't the purpose.
Sometimes they exchange words as well.
Nothing of consequence.
It was no more than the minimum necessary traffic that arises in the intervals between battles.
The environment of the afterlife remains ancient Egypt, unchanged.
Fire for lighting, papyrus for records.
From the standpoint of practicality, it wasn't worth discussing.
So Seto brought in what was necessary, one thing after another.
Lighting, in place of fire.
Tablets, in place of papyrus.
A remnant, no doubt, of having been in the living world until not long ago as Yugi's other self.
Naturally, Atem handled all of it without hesitation.
There was no uncertainty in his operation of it, and he was careful with it besides.
The time he'd spent in the modern world simply remained in his body still.
It was rational adaptation, and carried no special meaning.
At least, that was the conclusion Seto had come to at the time.
When Seto visited the afterlife, he saw a strange sight in one of the palace rooms.
Atem was sitting in front of a tablet.
That in itself was no longer unusual.
But the display set beside it stopped Seto's eye.
Battery remaining
—— 100%
"......Remarkably well prepared."
Perhaps noticing Seto's gaze, Atem lifted his face and said, as though it were nothing:
"It'd be a problem if the battery died partway through, wouldn't it?"
He said it in the tone of an obvious premise.
Seto moved an eyebrow for only an instant, and didn't pursue it further.
"The way you use it, the drain wouldn't be that severe."
"I know. But just in case."
Just in case.
Those words caught very slightly, but Seto cut them away.
Atem's reasoning was rational.
You keep a tool in a usable state.
That was all there was to it.
"Keep it at eighty to ninety percent. A hundred does the battery more harm than good."
"Is that so?"
"It is."
It was a short exchange.
Seto showed no further interest and started walking.
Outside the room, priests were waiting.
Confirming that Seto had come out, they took their distance with a natural movement.
They kept their presence, but never entered the conversation.
Less bodyguards than something closer to attendants.
Seto slowed his pace and confirmed it out of the corner of his eye.
Judging that Seto was likely to remain with Atem a while longer, the priests quietly disappeared.
A system for not leaving Atem alone had already been established.
"......Can't you operate by yourself."
The words were level.
Neither provocation nor irony.
Closer to a confirmation of fact.
Atem looked away for only an instant, then shrugged in his usual manner.
"I'm the king. If I vanish without warning, it becomes troublesome."
"Is that the issue."
"That's the issue."
The answer holds up.
The reasoning is sound.
Even so, Seto felt a faint wrongness remain deep in his chest.
Bodyguards are necessary because he's king.
The tablet is charged because it's rational.
None of it is wrong.
And precisely because none of it is wrong, the explanations are arranged too neatly.
Seto said nothing further and advanced.
Atem followed a little behind him.
At this point, still.
Seto had judged it to be one of Atem's habits.
A remnant of life in the modern world, back when he'd been Yugi.
A way of being as king.
Nothing more than that, and nothing less.
Two weeks later.
When Seto visited the afterlife at night, the palace was abnormally bright.
The lights didn't break, all the way to the far end of the corridor.
Not fire.
The lighting Seto had brought in was arranged at regular intervals.
It was as though it were a structure of the living world.
"......A remarkable amount of waste."
When he murmured it as though to himself, Atem, walking ahead, turned around.
"It's a palace. Lights along the road the king walks are only natural, aren't they?"
As reasoning, it's correct.
Seto said nothing further and looked around him.
There are shortcuts in the afterlife.
Having visited any number of times, Seto had grasped the structure of the corridors.
Passages like gaps between one wall and another, with little light.
The distance is shorter, and the movement faster.
But Atem doesn't choose that way.
He advances along the well-lit corridor without hesitation.
"......That would be faster."
At the place Seto pointed to without particular thought, Atem looked once.
And then, very slightly, he looked away.
"It's not a problem."
It was a short reply.
His feet didn't stop.
Seto shrugged and said nothing more about it.
A matter of preference.
He's probably arranged it as the king's route of movement.
That was sufficient for such a judgment.
When they entered Atem's room, every light was on.
Shadows almost didn't exist.
"Here as well."
"Brighter is better, isn't it."
Saying that, Atem was perfectly composed.
Seto gave it a glance and changed the subject.
What he'd come for wasn't the afterlife's lighting situation. It was a Duel with Atem.
They finished the Duel in the great hall.
With that, the business should have been concluded.
Seto started to leave.
But a voice was directed at his back.
"Kaiba. I'll have a room prepared — stay the night."
Seto turned around.
"Unnecessary."
"It's already night. Tomorrow morning I'll see you off at the usual place."
"I don't need seeing off."
"That much I'll do."
It was the tone of a voice saying that much was sufficient.
The reason isn't stated.
But that he wasn't anticipating refusal was, at least, obvious.
Seto checked his schedule inside his head. No problem.
"......Do as you like."
"Use this room."
The room he was shown to, saying that, was bright as well.
Seto opened his tablet and began working.
The sense of time is no different from the living world's.
But the night of the afterlife felt somehow long, and the work went well in spite of himself.
Before he noticed, the date had changed.
He lifted his gaze without particular thought.
Atem was looking at a tablet, a little way off.
"Go back to your room and sleep."
It was a casual remark.
Atem answered with his eyes still lowered to the screen.
"......Ah. Right......"
The words didn't continue past that.
Even after Atem returned to his room, Seto went on working for a while.
Coming to a stopping point and losing his concentration, he looked out into the corridor without particular thought.
The corridor opposite.
The light in Atem's room is still on.
"......He's awake."
In that case, another round wouldn't be bad.
Seto stood and left the room.
He stopped in front of the door.
Light was leaking through the gap.
He didn't knock.
He opened the door just as he was.
What was there was Atem, lying on a couch with every light still on.
Papyrus scattered, the tablet still running, a document stopped partway displayed on the screen.
His breathing was calm, and deep.
He was asleep.
Seto stopped.
For a while, he gazed at the scene.
Not dropping the lights, not letting go of the tablet, and asleep.
"......"
Seto said nothing and quietly closed the door.
None of it is rational.
But it can't be declared abnormal either.
In the territory that is neither of those, Atem is.
Seto returned to his room and opened his tablet.
—— Should I reconsider the placement of the lighting.
That having thought so was itself already the beginning of stepping in, he hadn't yet noticed.
At night, Atem opened his eyes.
No — he hadn't been asleep from the start.
Darkness is there.
There is a wall.
There is a ceiling.
Nothing changes.
Nothing moves.
Breathe in.
Out.
That alone was the proof that he existed.
Count.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
Eight.
Nine.
Ten.
Count to a hundred.
Then back to one.
Repeat.
It doesn't end.
Because it doesn't end, he counts.
Three thousand years.
He counted.
Any number of times.
The exact number, he no longer knows.
He loses track partway.
Even so, he starts again from one.
There is no time.
There is too much time.
He can't move.
No voice comes out.
There is no body either.
There is only consciousness.
—— When does it end?
There is no answer.
There is no end.
Eternally, like this.
When he noticed, Atem was gripping his own arm hard.
His nails dig in, and pain runs through him.
It hurts.
There is pain.
It is here.
He is here, now.
Breathe in.
Out.
One.
Two.
Three.
Count.
He shouldn't have to count anymore.
Even so, he didn't know how to stop.
Some interval passed, and several weeks later.
The next time Seto visited the afterlife, Atem said something unusual, first thing.
"Before the Duel — would you look at the lighting?"
Seto drew his brows together for an instant.
"......Lighting?"
"Ah. It flickered once."
It was the tone of someone saying that's all it is.
Seto said nothing and looked around the corridor.
The lighting is all operating normally.
Wiring, voltage, control systems. As far as he checked, there's no problem.
"There's no fault."
"I see."
Atem seemed satisfied with that, but his gaze alone was following the row of lights.
"It was only an instant. Just — a fraction of a second."
"The cycle of the flicker?"
"I don't remember."
Seto let out a small breath.
A single instant's flicker is within the range of environmental noise.
"And that bothered you enough that you couldn't Duel."
Not irony; a confirmation of fact.
Atem placed a beat before answering.
"......I couldn't concentrate."
Those words remained, faintly.
But Seto doesn't analyze them.
"Then I'll take countermeasures."
He turns on his heel.
"I'm going back now. I'll replace the lighting."
"Right now?"
"It's the shortest route. Leave it, and you'll have your attention taken again."
That was all there was to it.
A state of having noise before a match is out of the question.
Several hours later.
Night.
In the hand of Seto, appearing in the afterlife once more, was a new lighting apparatus.
A specification with reinforced flicker resistance and a redundant configuration.
A standard that would be called excessive even in the living world.
"......Fast work."
"It's necessary."
The installation was finished in a short time.
The lights of the corridor illuminate the afterlife more uniformly, more strongly.
"The performance is above the previous one. This should do."
Saying that, Seto stands.
"Anything else that bothers you."
Atem thought a little, and shook his head.
"......No."
But it was the moment he started walking.
"Turn there and it's closer."
The place Seto pointed to was a narrow corridor with little light.
A path with many shadows, passing between one wall and another.
At that one remark, Atem's feet stop.
Truly, only for an instant.
But they stopped completely.
Seto doesn't turn around.
He only registers that the footsteps have vanished.
"......"
There were several beats of silence, but Seto didn't wait any longer than that.
"Do as you like."
Saying only that, he advances along the bright corridor just as he was.
A little behind, there was the sense of Atem following.
The distance is kept.
But it isn't too far either.
Seto thinks as he walks.
The flicker wasn't the problem.
It isn't the lighting itself either.
It's the dark.
But he didn't put that into words.
For now, there's still no proof.
From that day, Seto increased the time he spent in the afterlife.
"The living world is bothersome."
That was the reason.
Meetings.
Documents.
Coordination.
Noise.
None of it is finished by the shortest route.
On that point, the afterlife is quiet.
No interruptions get in.
"......Work progresses here."
He opens a terminal.
It was a matter of course.
Atem watched it from a little distance away.
"......What exactly are you here to do."
"Work."
"In the afterlife?"
"Is there a problem."
It was immediate.
Atem was at a loss for words for an instant, then let out a small breath.
"......I'm appalled."
He didn't say anything beyond that.
Seto brought in what was necessary for staying.
Additional lighting.
Communication relay equipment.
A simple server.
Environmental control apparatus.
The afterlife changes, quietly.
"You damned Civilisation Accelerator."
Atem murmurs.
"Call it optimization."
Seto returns it immediately.
"It's a fact that it's become easier to live in, though."
"It isn't for your sake."
The answer was returned without hesitation.
"Leave it, and faults develop."
That was all.
Even in the intervals of exchanges like that, Duels were inserted.
One round at a break in the work.
One round after replacing wiring.
One round while waiting on processing.
"......Do you have only two options, working or fighting."
"It's efficient."
"You don't take my schedule into account?"
"I'll hear it later."
He said he'd hear it. He didn't say he'd observe it.
And then, morning.
Seto visited Atem's room.
The lighting is left faintly on.
On the bed, Atem was asleep.
"......Atem."
There's a response, but he doesn't wake.
Seto let the light in from the window without hesitation.
Morning light comes in, thin.
"Still sleeping?"
When he spoke, Atem knits his brows and opens his eyes.
"......Morning...... whose fault do you think that is."
"What are you talking about."
A low, hoarse voice.
"You. I have official duties too...... and yet......"
Atem raises himself halfway, biting down on a small yawn, and glares lightly at Seto.
"Because of you, how many Duels do you think we did last night."
"Don't you remember."
"I'm saying it because I remember."
Seto folds his arms.
"Good, you're awake. Preparations are already made. One round before those duties."
"Are you serious...... that's far too high-handed."
"Rather late for that."
Atem was silent for a while, but eventually laughed a little.
"......You really aren't suited to a palace."
"Is that praise."
"It's exasperation."
Atem let out a small breath and got down from the bed.
That movement was no longer afraid.
He was only sleepy.
Atem does the same thing every morning.
Opens his eyes.
Checks the lighting.
It's on.
Moves his hand.
It moves.
Puts out his voice.
"...Good morning."
It comes out.
Opens the window.
The outside is visible.
There is light.
With this, at last,
"Today, too, is over."
—— he can confirm.
The seal is broken.
That is fact.
But unless he confirms it,
he can't believe it.
Some time had passed since Seto began using the afterlife as one of his bases.
Placement of lighting, power systems, work routes.
The necessary optimization is already complete.
Finishing the operational check, Seto closed the terminal display.
"There shouldn't be any impediment now. From here on, no time will be taken up by the same matter."
It was a flat report.
Partway through those words, Atem's feet stop.
Seto doesn't notice.
His gaze is still following the figures on the terminal.
Silence falls.
The lights hold a constant strength, and only the shadows were wavering, faintly.
"......Kaiba."
Called, Seto lifts his face.
"What."
Atem didn't continue immediately.
There was a short silence, as though he were choosing something.
Before long, he opened his mouth.
"......Have you ever counted time with consciousness alone?"
It was an abrupt question.
Seto didn't answer.
Because he judged it wasn't the kind of question that required answering.
Atem continues, his gaze still turned toward the lights.
"I have."
The voice was low, but it wasn't shaking.
"Separate from the sixteen years I lived as myself......"
The words break off once.
"There's a span where I could do nothing, couldn't move, and had only consciousness."
The light is reflecting in the depths of his eyes.
"......Three thousand years' worth."
Seto, hearing Atem's words, didn't correct them.
Because he understood it wasn't an exaggeration.
"......Is that continuing even now."
The question was short.
It contained no assessment and no sympathy.
It was pure confirmation.
"It isn't continuing."
Atem answered immediately. But the words don't end there.
"......However."
His breathing goes slightly deeper.
"It also isn't over, you could say."
It was quiet.
Only the sound of the lights faintly fills the space.
"When it's dark."
Atem continues.
"I stop being able to tell time."
As though murmuring.
That was all.
The explanation doesn't continue.
There was no need to continue.
Seto said nothing for a while.
Before long,
"I see."
He said only that.
He didn't say he understood, and he didn't say he couldn't understand.
They were words that indicated only that he had received it.
Atem slowly let out the breath he'd been holding without noticing.
The lights were there, unchanged.
Within Seto, every wrongness is cross-checked.
Overcharging.
Every light on.
Bright corridors.
Attendants.
Not fear.
Not a survival response either.
—— A memory that isn't over.
"Kaiba, I have one favor to ask."
On the night a Duel ended, Atem broached it that way.
"What."
"Would you go with me to a dark place?"
Seto narrows his eyes.
"......The reason?"
"I want to test something."
"What."
Atem placed a slight pause before answering.
"Whether I can endure darkness, if I know I'm not alone."
Seto didn't ask anything further.
"......Understood."
The underground of the afterlife.
The deepest corridor.
Not one ray of light reaches it.
Seto puts his hand to the last lighting apparatus.
"I'm turning it off."
"Ah."
The light goes out.
Complete darkness.
Boundaries vanish.
Distance vanishes.
Even the position of his own body becomes uncertain.
He was supposed to be beside him.
"......Nn."
The sound of breath caught.
His breathing goes ragged.
"Shall I turn it on?"
Seto says.
"Wait...... Kaiba......"
The voice wavers in the darkness.
"I'm here."
Seto doesn't move.
He changes neither his position nor the distance.
"If it's painful, stop."
Not an order; a confirmation.
"......I won't stop."
His breath is shallow.
"......Kaiba."
He is called.
The sense of groping, seeking something.
A movement repeated any number of times, in a darkness where nothing should be grasped.
Seto took that hand.
Fingers touch.
There is body heat.
There is a certain weight.
"I'm here."
The darkness doesn't change.
But the solitude changes.
"Count."
Seto said.
"To ten."
Atem's hand tightens slightly.
"......One."
The voice is still wavering.
"Two."
The breathing continues.
"Three."
It doesn't stop.
"Four."
It doesn't go back.
"Five."
It is here.
"Six."
He is here.
"Seven."
The fingers cling.
"Eight."
They don't come away.
"Nine."
There is an end.
"Ten."
Silence.
"......I'm turning it on."
The light returns.
Outlines return to the world.
Atem still hadn't let go of the hand.
He didn't seem to find a reason to let go right away.
Seto says nothing.
"......Shall we count to fifteen?"
Atem nodded, small.
Again, the light goes out.
Darkness.
The hand is already there.
"One."
This time, the voice was a little more settled.
The numbers continue.
Knowing that there is an end.
This time, to fifteen.
Next, to twenty.
Any number of times, any number of times.
In the darkness, Atem counts the numbers, and Seto is beside him.
"You damned Civilisation Accelerator."
Seto gave a glance to the lighting added along the wall, and the routes that had been put in order.
Neither assessment nor censure; confirmation of fact.
"How many times must I tell you. Call it optimization."
Atem shrugs.
It was a tone with no intention of denying it and none of boasting either.
"It's certainly easier to live in, but......"
A beat.
"I said it isn't for your sake."
Seto returns it immediately.
"There are simply things that develop faults if left alone."
That's all.
No emotion is included. In his own recognition, at least.
Atem fell silent for an instant, then let out a small breath.
"......Same as ever."
Seto doesn't answer.
"It's for the Duels...... isn't it."
Atem says, as though rephrasing.
"......What else would it be."
Seto finally lifts his face.
Their eyes meet.
Only for an instant.
But in that interval, everything not put into words passes between them.
That he understands.
That he doesn't interfere.
That even so, he doesn't leave.
Atem eased the corner of his mouth, slightly.
"Then let's go."
"Ah."
Since counting numbers in the darkness, Atem came to be in Seto's room from time to time.
It isn't that he speaks to him.
It doesn't seem that he has business either.
Before you notice, he's sitting down at the side of a chair, or at the end of a sofa.
And sometimes he'd fall asleep just like that.
The lights were sometimes dropped, and sometimes left on.
Either way, there was no problem.
In the middle of the night, feeling a weight at his arm, Seto lowers his gaze.
Atem, still asleep, is gripping the sleeve of Seto's clothing.
It isn't a strong grip.
But it was the shape of not letting go, unconsciously.
Seto watched that for a while.
There's no reason to shake it off.
There's no need to consider the meaning either.
He simply reaches out his hand, just as he is.
He draws Atem's body in and settles it inside his arms.
There's no refusal.
He drops the lights.
Darkness comes.
Even so, the counting didn't begin.
The night was, simply, night.
When Seto spends a night in the afterlife, Atem's fixed place had become, at some point, inside those arms.
It was a quiet night.
The lights of the afterlife are dropped to the minimum.
There are shadows.
There is darkness too.
But it was not a thing to be eliminated.
Seto closes the terminal.
Less that the work was finished than that there was no need to continue.
There was no reason.
Atem was right beside him.
They aren't touching.
But the distance held the same meaning as touching.
"......Kaiba."
He is called.
Seto turns his gaze.
That alone was sufficient.
Atem takes a step closer.
Touches his sleeve.
Grips it.
It wasn't a strength that sought permission.
It was confirmation.
Seto lowers his gaze.
Atem's shoulder, throat, the movement of his breathing.
All of it is something he already knows.
"What is it...... is it cold today?"
A remark that makes an escape route.
Even so, Atem doesn't laugh.
"That's right."
Seto says nothing.
He only doesn't refuse.
That alone became the answer.
The night continued, quietly.
"......Shall we."
Seto's voice is low.
Not a question; a confirmation.
Atem doesn't answer.
He only puts strength into his fingers.
That was sufficient.
The lights aren't dropped.
But there's no longer any meaning in it.
The night knows what comes from here.
Morning light stains the ceiling, thin.
Seto had woken.
There's a weight inside his arms.
Atem is asleep.
His breathing is deep, and stable.
His fingers are still gripping Seto's clothing.
It was an unconscious shape.
It was the shape of not requiring a reason to come away.
Seto didn't move, just as he was.
There was no need to get up.
Atem lets out a small breath.
He draws in, slightly.
He isn't searching for darkness.
He's simply there.
That was all.
After a while, Atem's fingers loosen.
His eyes open, slowly.
"......Is it morning."
"Not yet."
Seto answers.
He doesn't look at the clock.
There was no need to measure the time.
Atem says nothing and closes his eyes again.
The numbers couldn't be counted.
There was no need to count.
The night was over.
Even so, there was no reason to end it.
By the time the night broke, Atem was still inside Seto's arms.
Only body heat was there.
And then one day, Seto notices.
Atem is walking a corridor with little light.
Only a few paces' worth.
In the shadow.
His feet don't stop.
Seto says nothing.
Atem doesn't explain anything either.
That was sufficient.
The night of the afterlife was, as ever, quiet.
And ——
brighter than before.
