Seto turns twenty and hates every minute of it, chiefly because birthdays arrive carrying marriage proposals.
He comes home early to look at Atem's face, and does not explain why. Later, over Christmas drinks, Yugi tries to get her to admit she's dating him and instead discovers she does not know what the word means.
At the theatre, Seto hands her flowers, calls it a joke, and leaves her holding the hand he touched.
his is a translation of an original work on Pixiv.
Original Title: 06 冬の入口
Original Author: 葉人(@Hathor_yuki)
Personal site: https://prideshipping.sakura.ne.jp
Winter would be here soon.
It had been a month ago that the man — first-rate as an engineer and a researcher both — had been grandly celebrated on his twentieth birthday, and had scowled his way through it.
That day, even to Atem's eyes, Seto had been in a spectacularly foul mood from the morning.
"Your birthday?"
"That's right."
Dressed in a suit showier than usual, he answered as though the whole thing were an affliction. His expression and his clothes did not match. It had been a long time since she'd seen a face like that, and it thoroughly ruined the good looks he otherwise had.
Business partners, politicians — no matter the nationality or the profession, they came to offer congratulations, so he had said the company would host it, and before anyone knew it the thing had swollen into an affair.
His face said: don't waste my time.
In the end, guests from outside who wanted a foot in the door had forced their way in asking to be allowed to celebrate alongside them, Mokuba explained.
"What's the harm in it? Being celebrated."
"It's a waste of time."
"I'll celebrate you. Congratulations."
Seto blinked, a little surprised.
"Ah."
"That's all?"
"I see. I'll accept it."
He closed his eyes once and smiled faintly, and without saying thank you or anything else at all, Seto left.
"He could at least say thanks."
"Atem... o-on his birthday, that's the most thanks anyone's getting."
"Is that so? He's hard to read."
"I was so startled I missed my chance to say congratulations."
"Sorry. I went first."
"No, I'll deliver it as the company's representative."
Mokuba smiled brightly.
Still, it's a party we're hosting, and I rounded up all the outside ones today in one sweep, so getting him home early is probably the best celebration there is, he said.
She had the sense he had slipped something rather dangerous into that, but Atem decided not to mind. This was Mokuba. She had learned well enough by now that Téa and Mokuba were not people to make enemies of.
"You're dependable."
"I'd better be. Last year was seriously rough — he went and found a sports tournament to enter just to avoid his birthday."
"He hates it that much?"
He had never been a man to be choosy about his methods, but wasn't that a bit beyond the pale? It made no sense. He could have simply held a duel tournament. That, at least, he would probably have enjoyed himself.
"That's right. He was always good at sports, so by the time he'd started training I only just managed to pull enough strings to stop him."
"Sports? I had the impression he was the cerebral type. No — but his hand-to-hand was rather good, as I recall."
Soldiers going down one after another, a coat turning, a martial art she didn't know. Movements too clean and too economical to be anything but a professional's. That he was good at it was easy enough to believe.
"Not just sports. Have you never seen Nii-sama's drawings?"
She had been shown the schematics for the Duel Disk once. The projected finished design attached to them — had that been his own work?
According to Mokuba, what met his eyes when he entered middle school were glimpses of his brother's bottomless talent.
The sports records lining the walls, from first year to third, were filled without exception by the name of Seto Kaiba, and none of them had yet been broken. Behind glass, some enigmatic sculpture presumably from the art course was displayed as the representative work of a graduating class. In the music room, a recording of a performance still remained. And so on, past all counting.
In reality it was the result of loads no ordinary person could bear, piled on top of the talent — but the more she heard, the more a rather rude question rose up: was that man in fact a member of the human race?
For Seto, a birthday was the day that hauled in more waste than any other in the year.
Billed as a celebration, dressed up on the surface as an occasion for offering congratulations — how very many of them came sidling up to him.
Marriage proposals had been carried in as though they were extensions of small talk ever since he entered the Kaiba household.
He dodged them, rebuffed them, and still the numbers grew year by year. It was a headache.
But now. Atem existed not as some occult soul out of antiquity but as an ordinary modern human. Not as a visitor.
The moment Atem noticed her own feelings, he would give her a ring, and in time take her to wife. That was decided.
He would not let her get away again. He was not holding back. Nor was he going easy. It was not difficult: he had only to teach her freedom, and to teach her how to be spoiled.
Seto understood perfectly well that, president or not, he was also KaibaCorp's advertising face. He knew exactly how to present himself.
"President Kaiba, congratulations on the occasion."
If the ulterior motive were business, that would be one thing. He had a granddaughter, if he remembered rightly. So the object was a match.
He signalled Mokuba with his eyes. He would handle the rest well enough.
Two backs receding. Laughter and chatter carrying over. A peaceful resolution by way of postponing the problem.
I can't beat that amiability of Mokuba's. He pushed the glass he'd been turning in his hand at a man in black standing nearby, and let his mouth alone curve into a smile.
Released by Mokuba, the host, far earlier than usual, he headed for the mansion.
Work remained, but today he wanted to see Atem's face. If this had been a year ago, he would unquestionably have gone to the afterlife first.
He was supposed to be sober, and yet at the moment he had no room to spare for spoiling anyone. Which meant he had to get back to his usual self quickly. Ironically, that required Atem.
"Welcome back. That's Mokuba for you. Right on time."
"What are you talking about?"
"He said he'd get you home early."
"I see."
"Still — you really are something, aren't you."
Mokuba must have told her something.
He could look into the contents if he cared to, but it didn't matter. Having his face seen, his heart went calm. To Seto that was, beyond any question, healing.
Healing was not something a god brought about. What a god gave was life alone. What Atem had was as close as anything could be to what humans called maternal nature.
"Don't lump me in with your little friends."
"That's... mm. This once, I don't think I could lump you in with them."
She laughed, looking troubled.
Unusual. Atem, who wanted everything made equal, had just drawn a clear distinction.
Of course, he answered, and Seto smiled his fearless smile.
The morning's ill humour was nowhere to be found on Seto's face. The crease between his brows, there when he came home, had gone as well.
There had been a fatigue in those short replies that he never once let show, and she had been thinking she wished she could do something about it — but it seemed there was no need to worry any longer.
Good. Relieved, Atem smiled faintly.
She went back to her room and lay down on the bed. Ordinarily she fell asleep easily, but tonight sleep would not come.
He dislikes the marriage talk, Mokuba had said.
Considering his social standing, such offers would come in; that much she could follow.
She couldn't imagine anyone existing who could stand as an equal to such an outrageous man, but even so, a day like that might come eventually.
Someday, an attractive woman would appear.
And that would also be the day this life came to an end.
"I'm rather fond of it, though."
Atem, who did not know the word for heartache, could not tell what the murk covering her chest meant.
A month since then.
The murk had not gone away.
With Seto she remained what she had always been, his one and only rival. Nothing about the relationship had changed.
Hands shoved in her pockets, Atem headed for the meeting place.
What on earth are you doing dressed like that — Yugi's scolding came moments later.
The Christmas sales season was a battlefield, and named like one.
Distribution had become the mainstream, but physical sales too vanished off the shelves no matter how much stock you threw at them.
If all of those were presents, was there a child's happiness for each and every one?
Mokuba quietly watched his brother, who was looking at the numbers without a word.
"Nii-sama, about the opening day at Kaiba Land."
"As scheduled is fine."
Now and then his brother fell into deep thought.
While working, while listening to someone talk — how he partitioned his head, Mokuba didn't know, but he knew that part of his attention would sink into thought.
Was he thinking about the parents Mokuba didn't know? Or about Atem? Whether it was memory or the drawing of a future, either would do so long as the thought was a happy one. That was what Mokuba thought.
"Aibou, what are you doing for Christmas?"
"It looks like work, actually."
"Téa is?"
"Yeah. ...Wait, am I being made to talk? Is that what this is?"
"It is. Téa doesn't tell me much about herself."
Talked into it, Yugi shot Atem a flat look.
While he was at it, he didn't forget to confirm that today she had a proper coat on and had brought something warm.
Leave her alone and she'd come flying out underdressed, so he could never let his guard down.
"Téa doesn't, you say — so you do talk about something?"
"I don't talk that easily."
"That means to me, doesn't it."
"Well. I suppose it comes to that."
"So you are talking, then."
"It's girl talk, Aibou."
She said it happily, with a wink, though whether she understood the meaning was unclear.
According to Téa, Atem was very nearly a nationally protected airhead.
"There's no girl or boy between us at this point."
That's true too, she said — but it seemed she still had no intention of telling him. She had only been persuaded.
In a fight, this person had been stronger than anyone and hadn't even minded being hurt; now she was very calm. She was protected now, and living peacefully.
That rest had finally come to her was something he thanked the gods for. On that point, the goddess making him a girl might not have been wrong. Whether it was all right to call it consideration, he still didn't know.
"Are you and Kaiba getting on?"
"We played three straight the day before yesterday, and did the post-game review after."
We didn't notice it was morning, and we'd both fallen asleep, she laughed.
The fact that this could be laughed off at all was remarkable, Yugi thought. Even now he had a sense of not being good with Kaiba, of not quite knowing what he was thinking. And that had only got worse since Atem came back.
He'd thought that, once, they had finally met as equals.
For today, he'd even the score by making the one who claimed not to talk easily do exactly that. Yugi decided as much.
"Is that all right, though? You're a girl, at least in principle."
"He knows that as well. He's quite considerate about it. He's kind, you know?"
Kind, is it. That's not what I meant.
Then does she have no sense of danger at all? Probably not. She's the type who dives in knowing full well it's a trap.
Self-protection and the like — there was no trusting her on that; Atem had far too long a record on the subject.
This was surely the reason an airhead was an airhead.
Santa was flying past on a reindeer-drawn sleigh. In Domino, the castle town of KaibaCorp, there was nothing at all surprising in that. A child pointed, delighted.
Well, if they were going out, that sort of thing might happen. Time for the usual payback — he'd tease her and shake something loose. Recovering himself, Yugi asked.
"Hmm, I'll ask just in case — you don't feel your virtue is in any danger?"
"He's not a man who'd do anything so improper."
"I see."
A far more wholesome arrangement than he'd imagined. And with that Seto Kaiba, of all people. He'd have thought the man would make a move immediately; it was unexpected.
But then the source of this trust was a mystery as well. She was a person who dove into traps and yet never neglected to doubt.
The reason that trust was hidden was, in fact, that Seto had built it up over months, and Atem had not noticed it happening.
Yugi thought: he must love Atem very much. Those beautiful blue eyes were extremely eloquent. That day at the autumn festival, too, he had been watching a beautifully dressed Atem with gentle eyes. He knew that a little further on, they had been holding hands.
And Atem surely did not think ill of him either. He hadn't been able to see her face while she was being led along, but the distance had been very close and the air between them very easy.
He'd meant to make her talk, but Atem was tough and wouldn't crack. How on earth did Téa get it out of her? Yugi propped his chin on his hand and opened his mouth slowly.
"You know, I'd been thinking it was about time. That maybe I'd get the report that you two were going out."
"Going out... me, and Kaiba?"
"Who else is there?"
"...Well, it's true he's the only man around me. But."
Atem sank into thought.
In the meantime, Yugi drew on his straw.
"Aibou, going out — what is that?"
"Wh—?! What are you saying? Are you all right? What happened to girl talk?"
The cream he'd been trying to swallow nearly went down the wrong way, and he choked.
They were going out by any reckoning, so what was she saying? You don't get to hold hands on a date and then react like that. Even as concealment it was far too sloppy. Sloppy the way showing your hand and still setting a card face-down was sloppy.
"I'd have thought it was a relationship like yours."
"But we aren't going out, you know?"
"That's got to be a lie. I mean — you're getting on, right? He's kind, right? That sort of thing."
"You mean that he looks after me? That's a bit different, isn't it."
She's being looked after. That Seto Kaiba, looking after another person. Just call it confirmed.
"Do you like him? Feelings of that sort — none at all?"
"That — that sort of thing, I don't really understand."
Atem laughed lightly and took a sip of something sweet-looking.
"You are a universal-love type, aren't you. Then what about wanting him to yourself?"
"If that's it, I've had him to myself for ages? His rival is me, and it goes on past all sight—"
"Aagh! That's enough! That's enough, I get it. I was an idiot for asking. Thanks for the meal!"
"You've still got some left, you know? Well — I'll pass your thanks on to Kaiba."
She pointed at the cup with a puzzled look.
Atem had been the one to buy it for him directly, and, now that it was mentioned, the bill would ultimately reach the man — but that was not the point.
What kind of relationship was this? Yugi understood it less and less.
Was this, possibly, what they called a sickeningly lovey-dovey couple? The sheer nuisance of it had to be that. Surely they were a new type of couple that simply didn't murmur endearments.
Apparently there were cultures overseas where such a relationship formed without words.
But could that really happen? Ancient Egypt he didn't know about. But at the very least, Seto, raised in Japanese culture, would hardly say nothing. And he'd thought the man was the intense type who hurled his feelings at you.
A nationally protected airhead. That was what Téa had called her.
Could it be that they really weren't going out? He hadn't considered that pattern.
"If only you were a little less dense."
"Aibou, you're getting more like Téa."
There it was. She didn't understand a thing. He couldn't disprove the Seto Kaiba ascetic monk theory, but neither could he deny that the mood between those two was a good one.
The operation to make Atem talk ended without detonating. Sulking, he drew a large breath through the straw, and it made a strangled rattle.
Neither of them quite led; they both stood up.
Slim black trousers, a fluffy coat, soft earmuffs. Cute across the board — but the stylish scarf, white with blue and black lines running through it, was out of place among them.
"That scarf is Kaiba's, isn't it."
"You worked it out. He wound it on me as we were leaving."
She laid a hand on the scarf and lowered her eyes slightly, perhaps remembering.
"Ah. I see."
He could picture it. Those calm, gentle blue eyes looking at Atem. Had he wound it on saying something like, dress a little more warmly?
He understood, a little, why he still wasn't good with the man. Yugi couldn't do that.
Because if their eyes met he'd be entirely full up. There was no room to spare for looking after anyone else.
"It gets colder than you'd think when you aren't moving, so it helped."
"You'll have to thank him."
"That's true."
Atem — what sort of face do you think you were making today? The same proud, delighted one as ever, and yet a little bashful with it. I won't say so.
Since coming back to this side, Atem seemed to be living calmly, and happily.
Christmas.
Yugi was so nervous that his right arm and right leg were going out together.
The invitation to the VIP seats had arrived two weeks earlier.
He'd dragged out his suit, had his mother iron the shirt again, and seen to his shoes.
The person walking beside him, who had once been his other self, had apparently known the details when they met the other day. When it came to games, she was thorough and formidable.
"It's not strange, is it?"
"It's fine. It suits you, Aibou."
Atem winked at him with a snap, entirely composed. Her outfit was a dress, and yet on that front she was very much the gentleman.
"It suits you too. Did Kaiba pick it out?"
"No, Mokuba gave it to me this morning. That boy really is going to be a fine man."
"I see."
Come to think of it, she'd said Mokuba had prepared the yukata at the festival as well. That had suited her too, and today's was a perfect fit. He had a very good eye.
"More to the point, what are you doing being nervous? Today is Téa's big stage."
"Well, that's true, but."
They had been invited to Téa's musical today.
He knew KaibaCorp had been building a large hall. She wasn't the lead, but she had apparently come through the audition splendidly as a cast member for its commemorative first performance.
To think this had been going forward while she was back home.
"Ordinary seats would have been fine."
"When I said I was going to watch, he arranged this for me. It's too big for one person — let's cheer her on together."
"Kaiba never changes, does he."
He'd probably had it arranged on the assumption that Atem would come and watch.
The VIP seats — less seats than something like a room — had an excellent view of the stage.
That alone told you the depth of the feeling behind it. Kind. Yes, certainly kind.
The lights went down, and Mokuba was making the opening address as the company's representative.
"Not Kaiba, then."
"He's the lead, after all..."
"...Huh?!"
The lead? His name hadn't been in the programme.
He seemed to like standing out, but asked whether he was the type to appear in a musical, that felt entirely wrong as well.
While Yugi floundered, Atem burst out laughing.
"Heh, it's a joke. Were you surprised?"
"I— was startled. Or rather, you make jokes like that?"
"...Because Kaiba does."
"That one's definitely a lie. I'm not falling for it again."
Yugi glared sidelong at Atem.
"No? It isn't a lie, you know?"
"Huh — it's a joke, right?"
Atem made a troubled face and didn't answer.
Was she trying to tell another lie? Or was that Seto Kaiba a person who made jokes?
Atem's expression refused to let him read which it was.
The performance, beautiful in light and sound, came to an end; the man himself, Seto Kaiba, gave an address, handed flowers to the lead, and it was over.
A short appearance, and still a man who stood out.
Yugi sent Téa a message and watched the flow of people filing out of the general seating.
At the sound of the door opening, he turned round.
"Atem."
Looking over, Seto was just coming in with a bouquet in hand. A black suit with a sheen to it and a bouquet of mostly red; it showed extremely well.
"Kaiba. I could see beautifully. Thank you."
"No thanks are necessary."
"Thank you for having me as well."
"Not I. Atem invited you."
Saying so, he advanced toward Atem.
"Why are you carrying flowers too? Were you given them?"
"These are for you."
"For me? I didn't perform, you know?"
"Is a reason required?"
What a sweet voice.
Yugi made an effort to become part of the air, wondering what exactly he was being shown.
One handsome man taking a hand and attempting to present a bouquet. One person for whom this made no sense. The picture was, for all the world, a proposal.
"A reason, is — I mean..."
Atem, for her part, had gone faintly pink.
Really, what were these two doing? That they weren't going out — that was the actual joke.
As Yugi edged away without letting his footsteps sound, Seto's manner shifted from that sweetness back to his usual self.
"It's a joke."
He said it and laughed a short laugh.
That Seto Kaiba made jokes was not false but true.
In a good many senses, Yugi's capacity was near its limit.
"That kind of joke is unfair."
Unfair? It looked like nothing so much as Atem sulking, saying unfair to cover her embarrassment.
"You're going to your little friends, aren't you. Take them. Yugi, yours as well, while I'm about it."
That Seto Kaiba looked after people was also true.
He accepted the bouquet pressed on him and gathered it up. He hadn't thought he'd be able to go and greet her, and he was empty-handed, so it did help, as help went.
Thought about simply, he had only come to deliver flowers to Atem; but that he'd come himself seemed to mean something too, and in the end there was no telling at all what the man was thinking. He really wasn't good with him.
"You know where it is?"
"Ah. I have the map in my head."
Oh. She has it. The map.
"The car has been called. From the dressing room go straight to the underground—"
"…right, understood."
The strings of letters and numbers presumably indicated the car park.
Remarkable, on both sides — the one giving it and the one memorising it.
Having teased Atem and finished his business, Seto turned his back and left. On his way, the fingertip that smoothly fixed Atem's disordered fringe was really very smooth indeed.
To treat a person who mattered as mattering, entirely as a matter of course. To put it into a form and show it. He wouldn't be catching up for a while yet.
"What's wrong?"
"No. It's nothing."
It was hardly nothing. What Atem had been gazing at curiously was the hand that had just been taken.
She closed that hand tight, pressed it to her chest, and lifted her face, looking a little happy. That told the whole story.
See — for all that you say you don't understand, your feelings are exactly that, aren't they.
"Shall we go too?"
"Yes, let's."
Following Atem, Yugi headed for Téa. Holding her bouquet with a smile across her whole face, Téa was shining.
