Atem let slip that he wanted to go to the living world with Kaiba. By the time he realised what had happened, Kaiba and Priest Seto had arranged everything — a body, a family register, a place to stay, and a leave of absence approved by the goddess herself. The negotiation, however, did not go entirely as planned. Atem's second life begins in early spring — as a sixteen-year-old girl, a guest of the Kaiba household, and apparently someone's “boyfriend.”
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 complained through his tears like this. He had braced himself for a final farewell, and he had spent the time since working through everything that came with it.
For all that — the feelings that had welled up toward a presence who should not have been there, toward Atem — it was only natural that they turned next toward Seto Kaiba, the one who had brought Atem back.
“Aibou, that’s not it. Kaiba didn’t do anything wrong. This is my problem, really.”
How was he supposed to explain it?
The one who had decided to leave the Afterlife was Atem himself. No one else.
It was one of Seto Kaiba’s many visits — he had lost count.
After several months, their meetings had grown into something more than duels alone; they had started exchanging small talk, asking after each other without quite admitting to it. On this particular day, after four consecutive duels in the hall — which left Atem genuinely tired and wanting to adjust his deck — they were walking to his room together. The others must have been giving them space, because the corridors were usually quiet, yet today they passed a group of priests, which was unusual. Then he remembered: there had been a council meeting scheduled.
The priests bowed their heads in silence and moved on. Among them were faces he did not recognise.
One stayed behind. It was Priest Seto.
“Pharaoh Atem. Death was possible three thousand years ago, and it will be possible three thousand years from now. There is nothing stopping you from returning to the living world once more.”
When Atem had come back to this world, Pharaoh Priest Seto — who had inherited the throne — was already governing in his place. On the simple grounds that Atem had not yet fought his duel, Priest Seto had handed the throne back without hesitation and seated him on it. That had been about two and a half years ago, perhaps.
The unfamiliar faces in the group were likely the younger generation that Priest Seto had trained and raised as part of the restoration. Alongside the priests who had fought together with Atem, they formed a formidable company, each one devoted to the kingdom in their own way.
It was plain to see how brilliantly Priest Seto had governed and rebuilt the nation as Pharaoh. The peaceful world Atem had entrusted to him — it was right there. And yet, in exchange for that, the one most responsible for it must have been worked to the bone. Because even now, the handover had not taken place.
There should have been nothing urgent happening in the Afterlife, and yet there was never enough time. Each morning Atem rose with the sun, purified himself, offered his prayers — and then audiences and reports would pour in one after another. He had thought it lively.
No sooner had he taken his midday meal than Priest Seto was out making his rounds, then working through a stack of papyrus from the morning. Then council meetings with priests and officials. Surely this was too much.
When night finally came and Atem expected him to sleep, Priest Seto quietly checked in on the training grounds, exchanged a word or two with Mahad, and then went to read the stars. Around that point, Atem had given up watching. Priest Seto, you work an insane amount.
With days like this, where was there any time for a handover? Atem sat on the throne as Pharaoh, but every piece of real work was handled right there by Priest Seto, without pause.
His explanation, when pressed: he wanted the soul that had been fighting for three thousand years to rest, at least for now.
So on that day, Atem had let it slip.
He wanted to go with Seto — to the living world.
Priest Seto thought for a moment, then said: Understood. It was only on a later visit that Atem learned that understood had been taken entirely at face value.
It seemed a visitor had come to the Afterlife, yet today no one came to meet him.
Sensing something was off, Atem made his way to the usual place — and found his familiar visitor, Seto Kaiba, deep in what appeared to be a complicated discussion with Priest Seto.
“Our preparations are in order.”
“And the matter of a family register?”
“That has been arranged. We will use the Tomb Keepers. Where is the body interred? We intend to restore it, however—”
“That is not a concern. It is to be granted as a reward from our goddess on this side. I would ask you to look this over.”
“Understood. From next time, paper is not necessary. Use this tablet.”
“And the language support?”
“Ancient priestly script is already configured. Touch here to see how it works.”
“Ah. That is convenient.”
The two of them were flipping through a sheaf of papyrus, talking through something between themselves.
“What about this part?”
“That point is still under negotiation, but — is there actually a problem?”
“I cannot say how he will take it, but there will be some dissonance.”
“And yet, for you, would it not be favourable?”
“Hmph. Don’t presume to know.”
It looked as though there was plenty more to come, so Atem quietly slipped back to his room. That day, Seto Kaiba did not visit as a guest.
It was on his next visit.
Summoned to the usual place, Atem arrived to find Seto Kaiba and Priest Seto waiting side by side.
“Atem. A place for you in the living world is ready.”
“Pharaoh Atem. Permission has been obtained from Horakthy for a temporary leave.”
“...What?”
“What do you mean, what? You were the one who said it.”
As it turned out, his offhand remark had been taken in earnest, and the two of them had been making preparations together — and had even involved a goddess in the process.
So that was why Priest Seto had been visiting the temple so often lately.
“Seto Kaiba. This is the final document.”
“I’ll review it.”
“The negotiation — has been concluded.”
“Understood. Even if it fell through, it makes no difference. I am prepared, and the arrangements are in place.”
“The rest is in your hands. ...Well. Give it your best effort.”
“Who do you think you’re talking to?”
Whatever they were discussing, there was clearly something between the two of them that no one else was meant to understand.
“Then — shall we go?”
“Ah — yeah. Priest Seto, the rest — I’ll leave it to you?”
“Take your time.”
And so it was that, thanks to the place Seto Kaiba had made for him and the body that Priest Seto and Horakthy had prepared, Atem found himself back in the living world — whether he had meant to be or not.
In the family register, he was the fourth member of the Ishtars. In the living world, he was a guest of the Kaiba household.
The right word might have been descended — Atem’s first moment of standing in the living world as himself was in Seto’s room.
“Do you have a preference? Something sweet, something bitter, something in between.”
“Ah — I’m not sure, actually.”
“You’ve even forgotten your own tastes? I’ll pick something. Here.”
A bottle taken from the room’s refrigerator was handed to him.
“If you want anything to eat or drink, say so whenever it comes to mind. For now, have that and rest. I have something to look over.”
The clear drink he’d been given — juice, perhaps. Faintly sweet. Sweet in a way that seemed to soak right into him.
He let out a quiet breath.
Looking over, Seto was drinking the same thing while turning through papyrus — reading it in ancient priestly script without any trouble. Just what kind of mind did this man have, Atem thought.
Then again, he had managed to read the card text of the Winged Dragon of Ra. (Though that itself was strange enough.) Perhaps it was simply possible for him.
What now? Atem sat watching Seto work through his documents, thoughts drifting without settling on anything.
“Nii-sama, are you back?”
Mokuba’s voice.
“Yeah, it’s open.”
The door opened, a little cautiously, and Mokuba — taller than Atem remembered — looked in.
Their eyes met. He tilted his head, puzzled.
“Huh? Wait — Atem? Is today the day? I thought we were picking you up in Egypt next week?”
“I arranged things so that Egypt wouldn’t be necessary. The Ishtars have been notified.”
He had crossed dimensions to get here, and yet his tone was perfectly calm. To these brothers, it seemed, it was no different from a short trip across town.
Atem drained the mysterious sweet drink, talked with Mokuba about nothing in particular, and thought again about how much he had grown. He hadn’t compared them directly, but Mokuba had probably already surpassed him in height. With a brother like that, Mokuba would likely be tall too. A little irritating.
“I’m going to use the bathroom.”
“Sure, it’s right next to the bathroom over there.”
There was even a bathroom attached to the room? The Kaiba mansion had seemed large, but this was beyond his imagination.
He headed in the direction Mokuba pointed. He found the right door and opened it.
Seto’s head snapped up and he shouted.
“Atem! Wait — come out first. We need to talk!”
“Waaaah—!”
Seto’s attempt to stop him and Atem’s scream happened almost simultaneously.
Atem came rushing out, face red, trembling.
Too late, Seto thought, his expression briefly falling into something almost like pity.
“Wh — wh — why. Priest Seto made this kind of mistake?”
“He negotiated with the goddess. Apparently. This is the result.”
“Kaiba, I — that is—”
“Rough luck.”
That’s not the way to put it. Even Atem had tears in his eyes.
On the spread of papyrus: the words negotiation failed.
The Atem who had been given a second life — by Horakthy’s will — had been made a woman.
“Atem. Sixteen. Female... Oh, so Atem became a girl. Huh.”
Mokuba leaned over to read the papyrus, adding his own commentary.
The older brother — hard to say. But Mokuba had clearly done his research. Both brothers had remarkable minds, Atem thought distantly, retreating into his own head rather than facing the situation.
And so Atem received a second life.
Seto Kaiba was a man who worked constantly.
He left early in the morning, and coming home late was routine. Frequent business trips, and even at home he was probably still working.
And yet he never demanded anything of Atem — someone in the household always looked after things, but indirectly.
Two weeks. Atem was already hit with a sense of déjà vu.
This guy works an insane amount.
Being taken care of indefinitely didn’t suit him. If anything, Atem suspected he was more the type to work for others, to give rather than receive — and so he brought it up: maybe he could look for a job. But work, he was told, was not allowed.
“I don’t like just being looked after the whole time.”
“Given your temperament, that makes sense.”
“Then why—”
A document slid across to him — ancient priestly script. Neat, precise handwriting. Priest Seto’s hand.
Of course Atem could read it without difficulty, but his eyes went wide at the opening line.
Regarding the Leave of Absence of Pharaoh Atem
So this was a leave of absence. Priest Seto, that makes no sense.
Baffling as it was, he read on — and found several conditions regarding Atem’s interactions with people in the living world. No disclosing past life details to those who didn’t know. No summoning of Duel Spirits. On those points, a safety mechanism had apparently been put in place: if he tried to say something, the words wouldn’t come out; if he tried to summon, it simply wouldn’t work.
Skimming further: in order to keep him from a life of fighting, his body would be made female; labour was prohibited for the duration of the leave; and so on, with more detail following, ending with the name of Horakthy and Priest Seto’s signature.
So this was a message from the goddess, transcribed by Priest Seto.
“That’s the situation. Though I imagine you’re starting to get restless.”
“...Can’t deny it.”
“I did lodge a complaint about the labour prohibition and the matter of your sex. He did as well.”
It seemed Seto had been communicating with Priest Seto via the tablet from back then; apparently Priest Seto had raised objections on his behalf more than once.
But they hadn’t been heard. Some divine sense of mischief, perhaps.
Atem stared into the distance, let out a sigh, and took a coconut water from the refrigerator.
“Instead, you’re welcome to play games to your heart’s content, or if there’s something you’d like to learn, I can arrange that. In short — if you want to duel, I’ll open a tournament. If you want to go to school, that’s fine too.”
Safe, ordinary duels probably wouldn’t count as the combat the prohibition referred to. That sounded appealing.
School — he had attended alongside his partner for a time, and it hadn’t been bad. He remembered now that Priest Seto had built a school himself.
“If you want to see the world, I’ll take you anywhere.”
“Why would you do all this?”
“You wanted to come to the living world. Enjoy it to the fullest.”
The way he was too attentive — just like Priest Seto. Atem smiled to himself. They called each other that one and kept their distance, and yet they were the same.
But to say something like this so matter-of-factly, as though it were nothing — that was probably unique to this man. Seto Kaiba’s ability to make wishes and dreams real was extraordinary.
He had been uncertain what to do, but it was starting to look like there was quite a lot he could do. Atem found himself looking forward to what came next.
Before that, though, something came to mind. If he was going to get back into dueling — or even if he wasn’t — being around Seto Kaiba and in Domino would inevitably mean running into the people he used to know.
“First, I think I need to go say hello to my partner and the others.”
“Then have them come here.”
And so we return to the opening.
A sleek black car arrived without warning to collect someone from their vocational school.
At the factory where Tristan worked, a replacement had already been arranged.
Joey had just been thinking he had a night shift ahead of him when he was suddenly told not to come in — and spent the whole walk over convinced he was being fired.
Where they were brought was: brown skin, crimson eyes, and a familiar, unmistakable presence.
Surprise, then joy, then the memory of their farewell — and tears mingled with an anger that could only exist between close friends. A former host. And a friend.
Téa was in America, apparently. He had called her the day before, and she had been overjoyed, even through her shock. Let’s have a proper catch-up when I’m back, she had said — which felt both reassuring and a little daunting.
Mokuba’s expression twitched slightly as Joey, still crying, poured an inexplicable amount of sugar and milk into his coffee.
“Hey Atem. Why don’t you come live with us again?”
“That’s not something I can agree to.”
“You haven’t even asked Atem what he wants yet.”
“That’s right, Kaiba. I have a say in—”
“Have you forgotten your family business? If it came to that, you’d certainly end up helping in the shop.”
“Ah. ...Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, Aibou. That’s not going to work.”
Right, he had been prohibited from working. Living with his partner probably would have been nice, but that family warmed up to people quickly. Before long, Grandpa would ask him to mind the shop. Even just a little help — if Horakthy were to intervene over something like that, it would fall on Seto or Priest Seto. He couldn’t add to their burden any more than he already had.
“Then come stay with me. Just two guys, nice and easy, right?”
“No. Single man, living alone. Not reliable.”
Joey had offered too, but he had Serenity. Having another girl around when he had someone he cared about — that wouldn’t be fair to her.
The Kaiba household was the right answer.
But how to tell them — that he was a woman now?
“What’s wrong with my place? We’re best friends — not like Kaiba. You two aren’t even friends.”
“Joey, your wording.”
Without Téa around, the role of voice of reason fell naturally to Tristan.
And yet Atem was Atem.
“We’re something like friends these days, actually.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
It was Mokuba who jumped in with the retort before Seto’s allergy to the concept of friendship could flare up.
With Priest Seto visiting the Afterlife a number of times now, things had genuinely settled between them recently — but in front of this crowd, the moment anyone said friends, an argument would be unavoidable. That wasn’t today’s purpose.
Not friends. Opposite sex. Something clicked. Was this the moment to say it?
“Well then — he’s my boyfriend. Everyone, listen. This time around, I became a girl. So I’m living at my boyfriend’s place.”
This time, Seto’s expression went blank.
In its place, the other three froze in matching expressions of shock.
Becoming a girl was one thing — but girl plus the closest person around does not automatically equal boyfriend. Mokuba sighed inwardly.
“No, Atem — host family is the phrase you’re looking for.”
“What’s that?”
From Mokuba’s perspective, boyfriend or girlfriend was honestly fine — but in front of this group, saying boyfriend was going to cause its own kind of trouble.
His brother had mellowed out, a little — or at least more than before — but if he could just mellow out a bit more. Or a lot more. Deciding to redirect Atem before things escalated, Mokuba stepped in.
Timidly, Yugi ventured a question.
“Um — Atem? You became a girl, what do you mean, what — how?”
“Apparently it was the goddess’s consideration.”
“Consideration? Is that what that was?”
“Ah, well. Right — Kaiba. Lend me that. It’ll be faster if they just read it.”
“They cannot read the script.”
“Fair point. Could you translate it?”
“Fine. Display — scan. Translate — Japanese.”
A display materialized in the air, and the document about the leave of absence expanded — the ancient priestly script swapped out for Japanese. But in its current state, there was too much information.
“Extract. Show Atem’s profile in simplified form.”
What remained was only the section describing how Atem existed in the living world and the conditions attached to it — considerably easier to parse.
“Thank you. So it can do that too.”
“You expected it couldn’t? It’s been configured for that already.”
The others stared, forcibly dragging their stunned minds back to working order.
Atem. 16. Female. Prohibited: labour, combat, Spirit summoning, disclosing past life.
Yugi rubbed his eyes, but the word female did not change to male.
“But why would it come to this?”
“Display — show reasons.”
At Seto’s instruction, the display refreshed.
Age: counted from year of death, for the purpose of living again. Sex: made female to keep her from a life of combat. Labour: prohibited, this being a leave of absence. Safety mechanisms prevent Spirit summoning and disclosure of past life.
“That’s what it is.”
Atem pointed with his thumb, but Yugi remained in full panic.
“No — no, wait, that’s what it is — I can’t just accept that.”
“I can’t claim to understand the goddess’s reasoning either. Apparently quite a lot of negotiation went in on my behalf. But it was rejected.”
Yugi was still panicking, but Atem’s tone was steady and serious enough that there was no choice but to swallow his tears and accept it.
If the person it was happening to had already come to terms with it, then there was nothing left to do.
“Display — off. Aibou, Joey, Tristan. I became a girl, but I’m still me. Nothing has changed. I’m here — come visit whenever you want.”
Mokuba had been bracing himself, half-certain Seto would say something — but against all expectation, he didn’t. It seemed he was letting Atem do as she pleased.
“Well, we’ll make sure you’re looked after. Right, Nii-sama?”
“Do as you like.”
He wasn’t exactly welcoming them — but he wasn’t refusing outright either. Atem felt a quiet relief at that.
I hope everyone gets along. The thought passed through her mind.
And so Atem’s life in the living world began again.
It was early spring, and the air still held a trace of cold.
