Atem has returned to the afterlife to reign once more as its king. Seto Kaiba visits now and then for a duel, always leaving the moment it's over — never once staying long enough to be a proper guest. Seto watches this with his usual faint, knowing smile, and says nothing... until, a year later, Atem finally manages to make Kaiba sit for tea. What Seto had really been watching for, all along, was never about hospitality.
A quiet story of Atem growing into the king he wasn't, three thousand years ago — and the one person who watched it happen from the very start.
This is a translation of an original work on Pixiv.
Original Title: 席が整いました
Original Author: 葉人(@Hathor₋yuki)
Personal site: https://prideshipping.sakura.ne.jp
These days, Atem often found Seto watching him.
Not as though there were something he wanted to say.
Only watching, faintly, as though something amused him.
Atem had returned to the afterlife, living once more as its king.
The weather stayed calm; there was no war.
Only, now and then, a storm of a duelist came to visit.
They'd shout back and forth, throw themselves purely into the game, and once it ended, Atem returned to his duties.
Days where excitement and stability existed in balance.
A heated duel — absorbed in maneuvering cards, provoking, falling into traps, striking back.
The same enjoyable time as always.
Still wearing his Duel Disk, Atem tilted his head slightly.
"Leaving already?"
"I'm going home."
Even as he said it, Kaiba had already turned his back.
"Stay and be my guest for once."
"I don't have time for that."
No matter how many times Atem had called out to him in the past, Kaiba had never once taken him up on it.
The moment a duel ended, he went straight back to the living world.
"That's why I should've stopped at three matches."
Kaiba turned only his face back.
"And that means talking with you?"
"Yeah. I guess it would, wouldn't it."
"...You want me to keep you company while you kill time?"
This time, Kaiba really did leave the great hall.
Atem hurried after him, and saw him off from the palace corridor.
When he started walking toward the office afterward, he ran into Seto.
As always, the faintest, unreadable smile touched his mouth.
"Seto."
Seto's eyes flicked briefly over Atem, then turned toward the window, in the direction Kaiba had gone.
"Is something the matter?"
"If it were you, what would it take to get you to join me for tea?"
The same look as always turned toward Atem. Just faintly, an amused look.
"...You want me to keep you company while you kill time?"
While Atem was called away for duels, most of the affairs of state fell to Seto, who had lived his own life as a king.
And by the time Atem returned, everything had already been settled.
Atem didn't know what kind of king Seto had been. Only that his work was frighteningly fast.
Atem quietly removed his Duel Disk.
"No, it's just..."
"I'm not blaming you. It's a fine thing, that the king enjoys himself so."
Not a trace of negative feeling could be sensed from Seto.
"But I keep thinking — just playing games and sending him off again isn't quite right."
"If it satisfies the boy from the modern age, then isn't that fine as it is?"
Kaiba had only come to duel. Seto's words were correct.
"That's true, but."
Seto's eyes narrowed, faintly.
"You have also become quite..."
"Hm?"
"...No — it's a good thing. Truly... heh."
Saying that, Seto walked off with a small laugh.
Once, Atem would have pressed him for the rest of that sentence.
Now, he found himself letting it go without asking.
"What's that supposed to mean."
Atem's murmur, spilled quietly to himself, dissolved into the wind.
A room in the palace, at night.
Outside the window, the shadows of trees swayed in a calm night breeze. Atem sat in a chair, shoulders dropping slightly, and murmured.
"Again. Kaiba goes home right away, so I can never properly treat him as a guest."
Seto sat in the chair across from him, a faint smile rising. He said nothing, only watched Atem with his eyes. Moonlight softly traced his outline, and a quiet time passed.
Atem shrugged, looking away.
"It never quite works out, does it."
Seto's smile was faint, but unmistakably amused. Even without words, their presence alone confirmed each other's hearts. Hidden in the night's stillness, a soft heat drifted between them.
The air in the room was sweet, yet somehow settled — a lovers' night. There was, certainly, something conveyed more by eyes and gestures than by words.
"Well, then..."
"Hm?"
On Seto's mouth rose a smile mixed with coolness and a faint pleasure.
His blue eyes narrowed, just slightly.
"...Shall I try capturing him?"
"What?"
When Atem's brow furrowed, Seto shrugged.
"A joke."
Saying so, he deliberately lowered his voice.
"If you learned to duel and fought Kaiba, could we get things ready in the meantime... Seto, why don't you learn to duel?"
"I already have. I even have a Duel Disk."
"Since when..."
To Atem, who said it with a note of exasperation, Seto answered, tracing his chin lightly with a fingertip.
"I asked for one, just to see, and they gave it to me. Level 8, apparently."
His shoulders shook, in a small laugh.
That smile seemed, somehow, to be enjoying itself.
"...But if you worry so much over the modern boy... I might get jealous, you know?"
His voice was low, soft.
But Atem didn't miss the light teasing underneath it.
Turning, peering into Seto's blue eyes, his lips curved into a small, quiet laugh.
"Liar. You're not the least bit jealous."
For just an instant, their gazes crossed.
Seto, as though resigned, let out a short laugh.
The heat that lived in those eyes was no longer that of an "advisor."
"Who's to say."
Seto's fingertip traced the lingering warmth at the nape of Atem's neck. It was a quiet, yet irresistible signal of invasion.
"That it should be me, and not that insolent man, who occupies your thoughts — that much, at least, is certain."
"Say that after you've actually been jealous, even once."
"...However you like."
Seto wound a lock of Atem's golden hair around one finger, tenderly, as Atem lay on the bed. In those blue eyes lingered an unshaken intelligence, and the ease of one who held complete command over something he cherished.
Seto's fingertip traced the line of Atem's throat, slowly, with a lightness like a feather.
There was no need to hurry. A cruel kind of elegance belonged to one who was certain that this night, and Atem's heart, were entirely his own territory.
"Now — this much should be enough to hold the guest off a while longer. ...From here..."
Seto's hand slid up beneath Atem's collar, touching directly to heated skin.
Atem felt heat spreading, apart from his own will, from wherever Seto's fingers touched.
His pride as a king, his concern for Kaiba — both melted away like honey, before the thick affection Seto poured into him.
"...Ah, ...Seto... Because of you, I'm always..."
"Right now, you're simply steeping yourself in pleasure. What's wrong with that?"
Seto touched Atem's forehead gently, then stole his words away with a deep, drawing kiss.
Atem's fingers gripped Seto's blue robes, pulling him in hard. Seto's steady heartbeat wrapped around Atem's racing pulse, and slowly brought it into rhythm.
"Melt a little more for me... your thoughts, your words, that heat as well."
Seto's fingertips chose the next place without hesitation, as though tracing his very thoughts.
Every time he was touched, the composure Atem had built up as a king crumbled away, silently, from within.
"...There."
The whisper was low, not even a command.
And yet Atem's body forgot how to resist, offering up its heat exactly as it was taught.
Before he could even understand that he was being dominated, the illusion had already set in that this was "right."
Seto never once let that moment slip away.
Golden skin was uncovered, piece by piece, carefully, with a certain and deliberate pleasure.
Atem, realizing that this domination was both pleasant and unbearably impossible to resist, sank into Seto's arms of his own will, on a sweet exhale.
Before dawn, the palace still held the remnants of sleep.
Pale blue light fell through the high window, casting a quiet shadow over the bed where they lay stacked together.
Atem woke, and the first thing he noticed—
was that his own breathing had naturally overlapped with someone else's.
An arm wrapped around him from behind.
Positioned so as not to let him go, yet without any real force in it.
And yet, should he try to slip free, he'd be stopped at once. That certainty alone was, without question, there.
"...Morning, then."
At his hoarse voice, a faint presence stirred behind him.
"Yes. Since just before you woke."
Seto's voice kept the same low register as an extension of the night.
A tone that told him — though he must have been asleep, he hadn't been entirely off his guard.
Atem let out a small breath and murmured, as though burying his face in the pillow.
"...In the end, I never managed to think about Kaiba at all."
"I imagine not."
It was an instant answer.
At the voice that didn't even try to hide its pleasure, Atem gave a wry laugh.
"Strategy meetings, or setting up the occasion... that was supposed to be the point."
"I did prepare it."
Seto's fingertip touched, lightly, at a place still tracing last night's aftermath.
It was both a confirmation, and a re-declaration of possession.
"A place for you to let go of your unnecessary thoughts."
In place of an answer, Atem slowly rolled over and looked up at Seto.
Seen in the morning light, those blue eyes were far calmer than at night, and yet, entirely satisfied.
"...Your logic is unfair, as ever."
"It's only reasonable."
Saying that, Seto pressed a light kiss to his forehead.
Not deep, nor seeking anything more.
Only a gentle contact, like a signal that said, "I've come back here."
"Next time too, the modern boy will probably head home right away."
"Yeah."
"All the more reason, then..."
The arm tightened, just slightly, conveying only the intent not to let go.
"...And the you left disturbed by the night — I'll take responsibility for that."
Atem closed his eyes for a moment, then laughed softly.
"...You really aren't jealous at all, are you."
"There's no need to be."
An unhesitating affirmation.
"As long as I know that the place you return to is here."
The morning light lit the two of them equally.
The heat of the night was already a thing of the past, but its afterglow had, without question, taken root inside them both.
A brief span of time, before they each took back their faces as king and advisor.
Atem closed his eyes once more, and, within Seto's arms, drew one more deep breath.
Knowing that even this stillness was, itself, part of the strategy.
In the great hall, as always, light and sound and shouting collided, and the aftermath of the duel drifted down like fine sand.
The instant the duel ended and Kaiba put away his Duel Disk, he turned to leave.
"I'll come again."
Kaiba, trying to leave like a storm, as always. But his feet stopped, abruptly.
"Your seat is ready, my lord."
An attendant, appearing soundlessly from the shadows, bowed deeply.
What struck his nose was the faint fragrance the attendant carried — a deep, heavy scent of tea, as though several carefully chosen herbs and flowers had been blended in golden ratio and simmered down with honey.
When Kaiba turned to look, an extraordinary sight spread across a corner of the corridor adjoining the great hall.
There, a perfectly arranged seat had been prepared.
On the table stood teaware without a single blemish. And a mountain of fruit and sweets.
What was astonishing was its "perfection."
The steam rising from the cup didn't waver even in the dry, air-conditioned room, boasting the exact temperature at which its fragrance opened most fully.
Kaiba had never seen the sweets set beside it, but he could tell at a glance they were of the finest quality.
And every single arrangement formed a perfect structural beauty, based on the golden ratio.
"...At least have one cup... keep me company, just this once."
Atem, with a slightly wry, but pleased smile.
Kaiba turned a sharp gaze toward the tea setting.
Everything about it was arranged to an uncanny degree.
"An ancient ghost, huh..."
To Kaiba, the relationship between the two of them was a trivial matter — but the sheer "calculation" poured into this tea setting was something he couldn't ignore.
The arrangement of the teaware, the temperature, the timing. All of it had read Kaiba's patterns of behavior completely, and was offered with the shortest and most efficient means possible.
"...Hmph. Cunning."
Kaiba spat the words out. But his feet were already moving toward the prepared chair.
To turn his back here would mean "losing" to this perfect hospitality. His pride wouldn't allow that.
"Fifteen minutes. That's not in my schedule beyond that."
To Kaiba, sitting down with obvious displeasure, Atem nodded, satisfied, and sat down across from him.
And so, about a year since Seto Kaiba had begun visiting the afterlife, Atem had finally succeeded in "hosting a guest."
Atem's happiness alone was his greatest reward. Hosting a guest for that purpose was nothing more than an effortless game to Seto.
Kaiba left, the attendant withdrew, and only the fragrance remained.
Atem let out a small breath of relief, and behind him—
"...Well done."
When he turned, Seto was there, somehow, without his noticing.
No sound, no presence, had announced him.
"You kept the guest, and yet didn't force him to stay, and sent him off satisfied."
Atem gave a wry laugh.
"You're exaggerating."
Seto's eyes narrowed, just faintly, in something like amusement.
"But at last, getting that man to sit properly for tea..."
Without waiting to hear even half of what Atem said, Seto said, lightly.
"You have become quite grown-up, haven't you."
Caught off guard, Atem's eyes widened.
"Grown-up? What do you mean by that?"
Seto gave no answer, and left, wearing that same amused expression as always.
When Atem returned to the office, the work had, of course, already been finished.
Between duties, Atem stood alone at the edge of the corridor.
The wind was calm, the scent of sand faint.
He didn't know how much time had passed since Kaiba left.
—You have become quite grown-up, haven't you.
Suddenly, those words took shape deep in his chest.
Not as sound, but as a sensation.
Atem's brow furrowed, just slightly.
He had no memory of being praised.
No memory of being scolded, either.
He'd simply been told, plainly, as a fact.
"...Grown-up, huh."
He used to be different.
He'd throw himself into the game, laugh at provocation, delight innocently in victory, and play with everything he had.
And above all, he used to shirk his duties, now and then.
That hadn't changed, even now, and he didn't think it was a bad thing.
Except for the shirking part.
He didn't think so, but—
Welcoming a guest, timing it precisely, measuring a distance that wouldn't wound the other's pride, preparing both satisfaction and an escape route at once.
There had been a version of himself who did all that not as something "fun," but as something simply "natural."
Something sank quietly, deep in his chest.
At that moment, he sensed a presence.
Before he even turned, he felt a gaze on him.
Seto was there.
He said nothing.
Neither reproachful, nor smiling.
Only watching him, as though to say he'd known from the very start.
—Ah.
Atem finally understood.
Those words hadn't been advice, nor sarcasm.
They'd been a confirmation.
A quiet certification, for one who had come to recognize his own role, as king.
Atem let out a soft breath.
"...Seto, so that's what it was."
The corner of Seto's mouth eased, just slightly.
It wasn't a smile of victory, nor one of a lover.
It was the satisfaction of someone who had watched something through to the end.
The reason Seto had been watching him.
—What had changed wasn't his actions.
He'd been measuring whether the change, the resolve, had truly taken root.
And now, that answer was, without question, there in Atem's own heart.
"I don't really hide in jars to shirk my duties anymore, you know?"
"I'm aware you've been secretly watching something called 'cat videos.'"
Atem looked away for just a moment, then gave a wry laugh.
And yet, not to run away — but to come back to himself.
"That's..."
"Whatever the case, it's good that you're enjoying yourself."
There was no longer any "testing" tone in those words.
"Atem."
The voice that called him was lower than usual, carrying only what needed to be said.
When he reflexively looked up, Kaiba was standing there. No Duel Disk raised. No fighting spirit, no provocation.
Instead, he silently held out a single box.
It was heavy in his hands.
The instant Atem took it with both hands, his eyes blinked, just slightly.
"...What's this?"
Kaiba didn't answer. He only said, arms crossed as always, looking away.
"A return gift. I've paid back what I owed. I'm going home."
Saying only that, he was already turning to leave. At the sight, Atem couldn't help but laugh.
"Wait. Since we've got it, let's eat this today."
When he undid the clasp on the box, what appeared inside was a sweet from the living world. An assortment rarely seen in the afterlife — finely made, but purely practical. Very like Kaiba's choice, Atem thought.
Kaiba's brow furrowed for just a moment, but eventually, with something like a sigh, he said.
"...Fifteen minutes, only. I won't stay past that."
"That's enough."
Atem's voice, answering that, carried a certain pride.
Meanwhile, in the office.
Seto kept his eyes down on his papers, and yet grasped everything.
Far off, the presence of the great hall.
The sound of a sweet's wrapper being opened.
And, in an unusually settled atmosphere, a short exchange of words.
The corner of his mouth lifted, just slightly.
—Well done.
He didn't say it aloud.
But he knew that the words he'd once spoken, that night, were now, slowly, taking effect.
"You've become grown-up."
The reason he'd watched him with such amusement, back then.
It was because he'd been looking at both the past and the future.
Welcoming a guest, dividing up the time, preparing a seat, accepting a return gift, eating together.
Courteous, and yet, the very thing Atem had always been worst at.
An act unthinkable, three thousand years ago.
And now, he'd carried it off, naturally.
Interesting.
It must have been the living world that changed Atem.
Seto went on with his brush, thinking to himself, satisfied.
