Three thousand years of fighting have ended, and Atem sits on the throne of the afterlife — where the priest who once ruled in his place still does all the actual work.
When Atem lets slip that he would like to visit the living world alongside Seto Kaiba, he doesn't expect either man to take him literally.
Between Kaiba's arrangements and Priest Seto's negotiations with Horakhty, a body, a family register and a place to live are prepared without him. What no one negotiated successfully is the body itself. Atem returns to Domino for a second life: sixteen years old, forbidden from labour and combat, a guest of the Kaiba household — and, by the goddess's will, a girl.
This is a translation of an original work on Pixiv.
Original Title: 01 春の始まり
Original Author: 葉人(@Hathor_yuki)
Personal site: https://prideshipping.sakura.ne.jp
It was no wonder Yugi was sniffling out his complaints through tears. He had parted from him with that much resolve, and had spent all this time digesting that much feeling.
And it could hardly be helped that the feelings overflowing toward Atem — someone who should not have been here at all — turned instead on Seto Kaiba, the man who had brought him back.
"Aibou, it isn't like that. Kaiba hasn't done anything wrong. This is my problem, if anything."
How was he supposed to explain it?
The one who had decided to slip out of the afterlife was no one else but Atem himself.
How many times had it been now, Seto Kaiba's visits?
Once you had been meeting for months, it wasn't only duels that increased but conversation. It was around the time he had begun casually asking after how the other had been.
Four duels back to back in the great hall; he was tired, and he wanted to adjust his deck, so they were heading to his chambers together. Whether everyone was being considerate or not, he usually didn't run into many people, but unusually they passed a group of priests. Come to think of it, he remembered being told there was a council today.
The priests bowed their heads without a word and went on their way. Among them were faces he didn't recognise.
One alone stayed behind rather than leaving: Priest Seto.
"Pharaoh Atem. Dying is something that can be done three thousand years ago or three thousand years from now. There would be no harm in your returning to the living world once more."
At the point when he had returned to this world, it was Pharaoh Seto, who had inherited the throne, who ruled.
It had been about two and a half years ago that the man had handed it back so easily — for no reason other than that they had never dueled for it — and sat him down on the throne.
The new faces unfamiliar to him were surely the younger generation Priest Seto had raised alongside the country's recovery.
Mixed in with the priests who had fought at his side, they made a dependable group, both halves of it thinking of the country.
You could see plainly that Priest Seto had splendidly built the country up and restored it as Pharaoh.
The peaceful world he had entrusted to him was there. And in exchange, its greatest contributor must have been worked half to death. Because the handover still had not taken place.
For all that this was the afterlife, where no incident was supposed to occur, there was no time.
In the morning he purified himself with the sunrise, and once he had prayed, audiences and reports came pouring in one after another. Lively, Atem had thought.
No sooner had he taken lunch than he went out on his rounds, then worked through the stack of papyri submitted over the morning. On top of that, meetings with the priests and officials. Wasn't this overwork?
When night came and you thought he might sleep, he quietly looked in on the training grounds, exchanged a word or two with Mahad, and then went stargazing. Around that point Atem was backing away. Seto works like crazy.
With every day going like this, where was there time for a handover? Atem sat on the throne as Pharaoh, but all the actual work was still being handled by Priest Seto, waiting at his side.
According to the man, a soul that had fought for three thousand years ought to rest for now.
So that day, it had simply slipped out.
That he wanted to go to the living world with Kaiba too.
Seto considered it for a while, then said: understood. That the word had been meant exactly as spoken was something Atem would not learn until a later visit.
There seemed to be a guest in the afterlife, but today no one came to fetch him.
Thinking it strange, he headed for the usual place, where the familiar guest, Seto Kaiba, and Priest Seto were carrying on some difficult-sounding discussion.
"Preparations on my end are complete."
"And this thing called a family register?"
"The arrangements are made. I'll use the tomb keeper clan. Where is the body buried? I intend to revive it—"
"That is not a concern. Our goddess is to bestow one as a reward. I would like you to look this over."
"Understood. From next time it needn't be on paper. Use this tablet."
"And language support?"
"Hieratic is already supported. Touch here and the instructions will display."
"I see. That is good."
Flipping through the bundle of papyri, the two of them were moving something forward.
"What about this part?"
"That part does require negotiation, certainly. No — is it a problem?"
"I don't know how the person concerned will take it, but it will feel wrong to him."
"But are they not favourable terms, for you?"
"Hmph. As if you know anything."
It looked set to go on for a while yet, so Atem quietly returned to his room. That day, Seto Kaiba never did come to him as a guest.
It was on the visit after that.
When he was called and went to the usual place, Seto Kaiba and Priest Seto were waiting side by side.
"Atem. Your place in the living world is ready."
"Pharaoh Atem. We have obtained permission from Horakhty for a period of leave."
"...What?"
"What? You were the one who brought it up."
From what he heard, the two of them had apparently taken his remark the other day seriously and put everything in order. And dragged a goddess into it, no less.
So that was why Priest Seto had been going to the temple so often lately.
"Seto Kaiba. These are the final documents."
"I'll look them over."
"I did negotiate."
"Understood. It doesn't matter if it broke down. I'm prepared, and so are the arrangements."
"The rest I leave to you. ...Well. Do make an effort, at least."
"Who do you think you're talking to?"
He had no idea what they meant, but there must have been something only the two of them understood.
"Then we're going."
"A-ah. Then, Priest Seto — I leave the rest to you?"
"Take your time."
And so, with a place made for him by Seto Kaiba and a body made for him by Priest Seto and Horakhty, Atem ended up returning to the living world after all.
On the family register, the fourth member of the Ishtar family; for a place to be, a guest of the Kaiba household.
Descended, perhaps, was the right word. The place where he first set foot in the living world as Atem was Seto's room.
"Do you have a preference in drinks? Sweet, bitter, or something that's neither."
"Ah — no. I wonder."
"What, have you forgotten your own tastes as well? I'll pick something."
He took a bottle from the refrigerator built into the room and handed it over.
"If you want to eat or drink something, say so whenever it occurs to you. For now, drink that and rest. I'll be going through this."
The clear drink he'd been handed — juice, perhaps. Faintly sweet. Sweet, and it seemed to soak all the way through him.
He let out a long breath.
Looking over, Seto was drinking the same thing while turning the pages of papyrus. He read the hieratic without the slightest trouble, which made Atem wonder what exactly was going on inside this man's head.
Then again, he had been able to read the card text on The Winged Dragon of Ra — (though that was strange to begin with) — so perhaps it was simply readable to him.
What was he supposed to do from here? Atem gazed vacantly at Seto as he checked the documents.
"Nii-sama, are you home?"
Mokuba's voice.
"Yes. It's open."
The door opened a little hesitantly, and Mokuba, taller than he had been back then, peered in.
Their eyes met, and his face turned puzzled.
"Huh? Uh, that's Atem, right? Was it today? Atem coming, I mean. Weren't we going to pick him up in Egypt next week?"
"I arranged it so we wouldn't have to route through Egypt. The Ishtar family has been notified."
He had crossed dimensions to get here, and yet their tone was leisurely. To these brothers it seemed no different from a trip across town.
He drained the sweet, soaking mystery drink, made idle conversation with Mokuba, and thought again that the boy really had grown. They hadn't stood back to back, but he had probably already been overtaken.
With that brother, Mokuba could surely expect height as well. A little galling.
"I'm gonna go use the toilet."
"Ah, it's right beside the bathroom there."
There was even a bathroom inside the room? He had thought the Kaiba mansion was large, but it was beyond imagining.
Toward where Mokuba pointed. He opened the door he was after.
Seto's head snapped up and he shouted.
"Atem! Wait! Come back out for a moment. We need to talk!"
"Uwaaah!"
Seto stopping Atem on his way to the toilet and Atem's scream were very nearly simultaneous.
Atem came clattering back out, face bright red, trembling.
Too late, then. Seto's face took on a faintly pitying look.
"Wh— wh— why. Priest Seto made a mistake like this?"
"That one apparently did negotiate with the goddess. This is the result."
"Kaiba, I— that is."
"It wasn't attached, was it."
There was no need to put it like that. Even Atem's eyes were watering now.
On the papyrus spread open before them were the words: negotiations broken down.
By Horakhty's will, the Atem who was to live again had become a woman.
"Atem, sixteen, female... ah, so Atem's a girl now. Huh."
Mokuba, peering at the papyrus, delivered the finishing blow.
He didn't know about the older brother, but Mokuba must have studied. Both brothers had good heads on them — escapism.
And so Atem received his second life.
Seto Kaiba was a man who worked hard.
Out early in the morning, home late as a matter of course. Frequent business trips, and by the look of it he was probably working at home as well.
And he looked after Atem without demanding anything of him in return (directly it was someone else in the house who did it, but still).
Two weeks. Already Atem had fallen into déjà vu.
This guy works like crazy.
Being waited on hand and foot didn't suit him either. If anything, Atem thought, working for someone or devoting himself to someone suited him better, and so he raised the idea of looking for a job — and was stopped, told that labor was out.
"Even I can't just keep being taken care of."
"Given your temperament, perhaps not."
"Then why?"
The document held out to him bore hieratic. Neat, orderly characters. Priest Seto's hand.
Atem could of course read it without difficulty, but his eyes went wide from the very opening line.
Concerning the Leave of Pharaoh Atem
Ah, so this counts as leave. Seto, you're not making any sense.
Sense or no sense, as he read on, several conditions concerning contact with people in the living world had been written out.
That he was not to speak of his past life to those who did not know; that he was not to use spirit summoning; and that as a safeguard in those areas, a power had been set in place such that if he tried to speak the words would not come, and the spirits could not be summoned.
Skimming further, the details went on: that the body would be made female so that he would not spend his days in battle; that labor was prohibited on account of the leave; and much else besides — and at the end, the name of Horakhty and Priest Seto's signature.
So that was it. Priest Seto had transcribed the goddess's message.
"That's how it is. But you're about at the point of getting bored, aren't you."
"Well. I won't deny it."
"Both I and that one lodged protests regarding the labor and the sex."
He seemed to have been in contact with Priest Seto through the tablet he'd handed over that time, and apparently on the other side the man really had protested several times.
But it hadn't been accepted. A god's mischief, was it.
Atem let his gaze go distant, sighed, and took a coconut water from the refrigerator.
"You could amuse yourself with games instead, and if you want to learn something I'll arrange it. Meaning, if you want to duel I'll hold a tournament, and if you want to go to school that's fine as well."
A safe, ordinary duel probably wouldn't fall under the combat listed among the prohibitions. That was fine too.
He had sat in on school alongside Aibou, and that had been quite good as well. Come to think of it, Priest Seto had built schools too, he recalled.
"If you want to see the world, I'll take you anywhere."
"Why would you do that much for me?"
"You wanted to come to the living world, didn't you. Then enjoy it to the fullest."
Looking after people too well was the same as Priest Seto, and Atem laughed inwardly. For all that each of them called the other that one, they were the same.
Still, only this man would say something so dreamlike as though it were a matter of course. Seto's ability to make wishes and dreams come true was tremendous.
He had been wondering what to do, but it seemed there was a great deal he could do, and Atem began to look forward to what came next.
But first, something to be done came to mind. If he resumed dueling — no, even if he didn't, so long as he was involved with Seto Kaiba and staying in Domino, he would inevitably come into contact with them: his former companions.
"First, I think I have to go and greet Aibou and the others."
"Then call them here."
And so we return to the beginning.
A black luxury car turning up at a vocational school out of nowhere.
A replacement hand being arranged for Tristan at his factory.
As for Joey, he had been about to head into a night shift when he was abruptly told he needn't come in today, and had gotten the jitters thinking he was being fired.
What awaited them where they were taken was brown skin, crimson eyes, and that familiar, particular aura.
His former host, astonished at the reunion, overjoyed, remembering the farewell, weeping and furious all at once. And his friends.
Téa was in America, apparently; when he called yesterday she was very surprised, and then delighted. Let's have some girl talk when I'm back, she had said, which was reassuring and unnerving in equal measure.
Mokuba's face twitched slightly at Joey, who was crying while dumping an inexplicable quantity of sugar and milk into his coffee.
"Hey, Atem. Won't you come live with us again?"
"That is out of the question."
"You haven't even asked Atem what he wants."
"That's right, Kaiba. Even I have a say in—"
"Have you forgotten the family business? If it came to that, you would certainly end up helping in the shop."
"Ah. That's true. Sorry, Aibou. I can't."
Come to think of it, labor had been prohibited. Living with Aibou might well be pleasant, but that family warmed to you instantly. Before long Grandpa would ask him to mind the shop, and he would do it.
If a bit of helping out brought some interference from Horakhty, it would land on Kaiba and Priest Seto. He couldn't cause any more trouble for those two, overworked as they were.
"Then come to my place. Two guys, it's easy, right?"
"Denied. A man living alone. Not to be relied on."
One more offer — Joey had invited him too, but he had Mai. She wouldn't like another woman in the house of the man she cared for.
The right answer here was to lean on the Kaiba household.
But how was he to tell them that he was a woman now?
"What's wrong with that? We're best friends, and Kaiba isn't even a friend."
"Joey. Watch how you say it."
With Téa absent, reining him in inevitably fell to Tristan.
But Atem was Atem.
"Lately he's practically a friend, you know?"
"I wonder about that."
It was Mokuba who cut in on Atem before Seto's allergy to friendship could flare up.
His brother had been going back and forth to the afterlife a number of times and had certainly settled down about a good many things lately, but with this lineup, the moment anyone said friends or anything of the sort, an argument would be unavoidable. That was not today's purpose.
Not a friend. The opposite sex. It clicked for Atem. Wasn't now the chance to come clean?
"Then he's my boyfriend. Everyone, listen. This time around, I've become a woman. That's why I'm living at my boyfriend's house."
This time, the expression vanished from Seto's face.
In its place, three people froze with astonishment on theirs.
No matter how much of a woman he had become, someone close who was not a friend did not equal boyfriend. Mokuba sighed.
"No, host family for a homestay is the phrase you want, Atem."
"What is that?"
As far as Mokuba was concerned it wouldn't have bothered him in the least if the two of them were a couple, but still, with this lineup, the word boyfriend was bound to draw complaints of its own.
Wishing his brother would mellow a little more — no, a great deal more — Mokuba decided to steer Atem's attention elsewhere.
Timidly, Yugi asked.
"Um, Atem? Becoming a girl — what, what does that even mean?"
"It seems to be consideration on the goddess's part."
"Consideration how? Is that consideration?"
"Ah, well. Right — Kaiba. Lend me that. It'll be quicker if they read it."
"They can't read that one's script, can they."
"That's true. Can it translate?"
"Very well. Display. Scan. Translate, Japanese."
A display appeared in midair, and when the document about the leave was spread across it, the hieratic showed replaced by Japanese. But as it stood, there was too much information.
"Extract. Display Atem's profile in brief."
What remained was only the entries about the form in which Atem existed in the living world and its conditions, which made it considerably easier to follow.
"Thank you. So it can do this sort of thing too."
"Did you ask thinking it couldn't? It was supported long ago."
His companions looked on, forcing their shock-stalled heads back into normal operation.
Atem. Age 16. Female. Prohibitions: labor, combat, spirit summoning, disclosure of past life.
Yugi tried rubbing his eyes, but the entry reading female did not change to male.
"But why did it turn out that way?"
"Display profile rationale."
At Seto's instruction, the entries rewrote themselves.
Age: taken from the year of death, for the purpose of living again. Sex: female, so as not to place the self in combat. Labor: not permitted, on account of leave. By safeguard, spirit summoning and disclosure of the past life are not permitted.
"That's what it comes to."
Atem jerked a thumb at the display, but Yugi remained in a panic.
"No, no no, wait, that's what it comes to — I can't understand this."
"I don't understand what a goddess thinks either. Apparently a fair amount of negotiating was done on my behalf over the contents. But it was rejected."
Yugi was still panicking, but Atem himself said it so calmly, and with such a serious face, that he swallowed his tears and gave up, resigned that there was nothing to do but accept it.
If the person concerned had accepted it, there was nothing more to be done.
"Display, off. Aibou, Joey, Tristan. I may have become a woman, but I am me. Nothing has changed. I'm here now, so come and visit any time."
Mokuba went cold wondering whether his brother would be angry at him saying such a thing on his own, but contrary to expectation Seto said nothing. It seemed he meant to let Atem do entirely as he pleased.
"Well, we'll at least play host. Right, Nii-sama?"
"Do as you like."
He didn't seem to be welcoming it, but there was nothing of flat refusal in Seto's manner either, and Atem was relieved.
It would be nice, he thought, if everyone could just get along like this.
And so Atem's life in the living world resumed.
It was the beginning of spring, when the air was still a little cold.
