Atem wants a ring — and one for Seto too. She has apparently consulted Mana. Seto grants the wish, ends up with his ring put on upside down, and sets off a media storm that shows no sign of settling. He is the decoy. Isono’s hands are trembling on the wheel. In the Afterlife, Priest Seto is dealing with Mahad, who refuses to return to work until someone explains what is happening. Vena amoris, Priest Seto says to himself at the end. A fine thing.
This is a translation of an original work on Pixiv.
Original Title: 12 Vena Amoris
Original Author: 葉人(@Hathor₋yuki)
Personal site: https://prideshipping.sakura.ne.jp
Somewhere in the middle of — he could have counted exactly which, but decided not to — Atem said something strange.
He started to ask what do you mean by that, and stopped. Her face clearly said: I can’t explain this. Ask, and the answer would be I’m not sure, it just felt that way. Obviously.
Atem saying strange things was nothing new, and if it were something important, she would say so. The intended meaning was probably somewhere in the vicinity of calming, reassuring, trustworthy. Close enough.
Either way — peaceful was the best possible outcome. Seto arrived at that conclusion and left it there.
One day, Atem came to his room and opened with this:
“There’s something I want.”
Atem wanting something was rare. Online orders she could handle herself, and the most she ever asked for was a new card pack she wanted the moment it dropped.
Unusual — but granting Atem’s wishes was the simplest thing in the world. That was the kind of man Seto Kaiba was.
“What do you want?”
“A ring.”
“Understood. Give me your hand.”
“It’s not just for me.”
Ah. The intention was clear.
“You want me to wear one too.”
As expected.
He could grant Atem’s wishes easily enough. But.
“Do you understand what that will mean?”
“A massive scandal. For my sake.”
She laughed, eyes bright and challenging.
But did she understand what the word implied — that a ring was a declaration, a binding? This was Atem. The unconscious meaning buried in a wish or a word was not necessarily something she was aware of.
She probably hadn’t thought about the possibility of being hounded by reporters either. He had a report that she’d been surrounded after the autumn festival, but she seemed to have completely forgotten about it.
She was almost certainly only thinking of Seto being hounded on her behalf.
Whose idea was this.
Yugi. He had seen the ring designs — but he wouldn’t have encouraged something like this. The news could come back on Atem. He wouldn’t want that. Not him.
Téa. She had been through her own ordeal with the same kind of thing. She would talk about it like a dream — but she wouldn’t put the same pressure on Atem. Not her.
Among the other friends, someone who might have a partner — Joey, for instance. He and Serenity were still at a distance, no progress. Not him.
No partner as such — but popular with women: Ryo Bakura. That one was more interested in food than romance. Not him.
Then who.
Whoever it was, the option of not playing along did not exist for Seto.
“There is no wish of yours I cannot grant.”
“The left ring finger connects to the heart. It’s linked to where love lives.”
Atem said it softly, dreamily, with a peaceful smile.
Ah. That’s it.
Vena amoris — the vein of love. Its origins were said to be ancient Rome, or ancient Egypt, depending on who you asked.
She had apparently picked it up from the Afterlife.
If so, the most likely source was that one — but he was a rational, analytical type, not the sort to speak of the vein of love with any romance. Not him.
Seto ran through the Afterlife’s social map in his mind and eliminated candidates one by one.
What remained: one person close to Atem — Mahad. But Mahad was a serious-minded man. Even if Atem had consulted him, he wouldn’t propose a solution that drew others in like this. Not even if the person being drawn in happened to be someone Mahad didn’t particularly favour. Not him.
Then the other one. Mahad’s apprentice. Someone who, upon learning of modern customs, would cheer on a love story without reservation and push with both hands.
He could picture it. The culprit was almost certainly Mana.
Whether to praise her — well done — or tell her to stay out of it — he hadn’t decided. Either way, filing a complaint was already settled.
“I see. That accounts for most of it.”
“Exactly.”
The heart’s true address was the brain. But with Atem holding out her hand looking pleased, now was not the time to mention that.
The feeling of wanting to be connected — Seto felt the same.
More robust protection for Atem. Thorough surveillance on any press entering Domino — camera-equipped devices included. What else needed doing.
He was running calculations in the back of his mind as he opened the drawer and took out a box.
Two matching rings, side by side.
“These are pair rings. For now.”
He took her hand and slid the silver ring onto her finger. The flowing line of it suited her slender hand well.
“Wait — isn’t this a curved one? I thought something straight would suit you. This shape doesn’t seem right for you.”
“I’ll give you as many rings as you want.”
“One is enough, that’s what makes it special. Let me — I’ll put yours on.”
She pressed it on with more force than necessary, which stung, and she had it upside down. He didn’t expect delicacy from Atem, but it would hurt again when he corrected it.
“It’s upside down.”
“Ah, sorry — there, done. It actually suits you, though. This shape too.”
“Satisfied?”
“Wear it always.”
“I know.”
“You really don’t embarrass easily, do you.”
“Would you like me to?”
“I don’t know. You always look so composed. Sometimes I want you to feel what I feel.”
Ah — so the purpose is possession, and a small measure of revenge.
Mana. And Atem. What on earth had they talked about to end up here. He considered looking at the call history.
Seto let out a quiet sigh.
“There is no composure to be had when I’m looking at you.”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
Atem went red and complained.
“You could just say what you’re thinking.”
“That’s the strange thing about a woman’s heart — it doesn’t come out in words properly. I’ve tried, many times, but it never quite works.”
That was simply Atem being oblivious, of course. Seto understood this perfectly well.
“Does it work in your girls-only conversations?”
“No, it didn’t.”
Of course it didn’t. That’s just the way you are. But even that, in Seto’s internal reckoning, arrived safely at Atem is especially dear today.
This whole exchange had also been more or less a confession — that this had started with a girls-only conversation, and the person she had consulted was Mana.
His staff would probably want a press conference. During last year’s incident, the volume of interview requests had been enough to disrupt actual operations for some people.
Whether he announced it or not, the enquiries would come either way — but perhaps people felt they deserved to know. He understood that impulse.
Reducing his public profile would solve it, but that didn’t work as a strategy for Seto Kaiba. Besides, Atem’s desire and everything else could be satisfied simultaneously.
Once they were properly together, there would be no more playing innocent. But he still wanted to give Atem a little more peace for now.
Even then — he hoped she would still find peace in that taste she had named.
“It amounts to the same thing either way.”
“Maybe. But I’m satisfied, so it’s fine.”
Atem held the ring up to the light with a shy smile. She was beautiful.
“If satisfied is what you want, I’ll satisfy you as much as you like.”
“Seto?”
Look carefully.
Atem’s desire — proof of being connected, in any moment, at any time.
Isono’s hands were trembling on the wheel.
He was still driving, which meant it wasn’t affecting his ability to operate the car — no report had been made, so it wasn’t a problem. Seto made that assessment and let him continue.
He did, however, quietly set up the controls to switch to autopilot immediately if needed. And as always, every traffic light on the route ahead turned green as the car approached — Domino was already under his jurisdiction. Traffic signals were the least of it.
Something had happened, clearly. He was still thinking through what, when the congratulations arrived — voice slightly unsteady, feeling clearly running high.
“Se — Seto-sama, congratulations!”
No new projects had been announced recently. No department had reported exceptional results. As far as he was aware — which was everything — operations were running normally.
And Isono was not the type to make unnecessary noise over routine matters.
“What for.”
“Are — are you and Atem-sama to be married?”
Don’t turn around. If you’re driving, look forward. A gesture toward the windscreen, and Isono hurriedly faced front.
Seto decided: one more thing and Isono would be asked to stop the car. Three strikes, one remaining. On any other day it would have been one — today, Seto was being exceptionally generous.
“Not yet.”
“I — I see.”
“You’ll be invited to the ceremony. Are preparations—”
“Ready at any time.”
Seto Kaiba was the public face of KaibaCorp.
Controlling everything required stepping into the public eye — there was no avoiding it. The force of a well-placed figure behind a message was something no hired talent or advertisement could replicate. Not enough power. He himself was the instrument. That was how Seto Kaiba had grown stronger. That was how he had always done it.
He glanced at his left hand. Matching rings with Atem.
If even Isono reacted like this, the impact of a single ring was going to be enormous. But if that was how it was, it was simply another variable to factor in.
He wouldn’t hide it. There was nothing to be ashamed of. This wasn’t the kind of thing that could be dismissed as nothing much.
Atem was everything. The one person he had finally found — his only one, the most important thing there was.
Seto let only the corner of his mouth smile. In the mirror, the eyes watching Isono were not smiling.
“Hmph. Expect considerable noise. This one is the highest-priority case.”
“Understood. How would you like to handle the press?”
“No conference. Let it run wild.”
“As you wish.”
Isono had almost certainly worked out that Atem was the person who had been inside Yugi. The circumstances of how a separate individual had appeared in this world — something like a goddess — no one would believe that. But he probably didn’t need to understand the details.
“...Isono. How much do you know.”
Isono smiled slightly and answered quietly.
“I know nothing, Seto-sama. Atem-sama is Atem-sama.”
That was the answer. No deduction taken. That was exactly right.
“Good. That’s all it needs to be.”
The world shook.
KaibaCorp President Seto Kaiba (20) — married?!
Internet. Television. Newspapers. Weekly magazines. Fashion publications with no obvious connection to any of it.
Every media outlet imaginable descended on the ring on Seto Kaiba’s left hand.
People were already trying to identify the ring’s maker and the person behind it — but it was too late for that. Everything they might want to know had already been quietly buried. Atem rarely appeared in public and had security around her. He had given instructions to make sure the press had no free rein in Domino. The ring itself was a one-of-a-kind piece made in-house — there was nothing to find.
On social media, people who had decided they were heartbroken multiplied rapidly. A hashtag — #HeartbrokenByThePresident — had been seeded from behind the scenes by someone in PR, and spread with impressive efficiency.
It had long since left the hands of whoever started it and taken on a life of its own, but that was expected.
Cameras were everywhere. Lenses tracked his every move; people pressed in daily trying to get something out of him.
Who is she? Since when? Is it already—
Seto glanced at the coverage with mild interest and smiled faintly, as he did every day.
Unfortunately for them, he was the decoy.
“Welcome back.”
“I’m back.”
The noise showed no sign of settling. That was because he had made no move to settle it.
Atem had been watching the daily coverage too, by the look of her.
“You’re causing an incredible commotion...”
“This is well within the expected range.”
“No, it’s beyond what I imagined. I’m genuinely shocked.”
She really was. Eyes wide, a face that said I can’t quite believe this is real.
She might not be able to believe it — but the commotion was real, and names of supposed candidates were already being floated by the public. That would not sit well with Atem.
But none of those names were the one Seto had in mind.
What form would the jealousy take this time? Would she consider stepping forward herself? If so, that needed to be stopped. This was for Atem’s peace.
Which was why Seto said nothing. If the world wanted him to stir it up, a meaningful smile was more than sufficient.
In the middle of all this, he wore the proof that he was taken — because Atem had asked him to. That was all.
He cupped her face in his hands and murmured against her ear:
“If that still isn’t enough — I could announce that I have a very charming girlfriend.”
“You are just — honestly—”
She hid her red face by pressing it against him. Which meant he couldn’t kiss her.
He smoothed her hair, waited for her to finally pull back, and met her eyes.
He leaned in slowly, and Atem closed hers.
Small, unhurried kisses — savouring the sweetness of it. Usually she would flush and slip away — today, she wasn’t letting go. This was jealousy at work.
“Atem. There is only you.”
A wish, made real.
Connected, through to the very bottom of his heart.
Now she knew clearly whose he was, and who was hers. There was nothing to worry about — she had always had him.
Atem. Is this enough?
If it still wasn’t, he would find another way. He had done the impossible, done things no one had even thought to try — that was where he excelled.
There were any number of ways.
“Oh! The living world is like a festival!”
“Mahad — remove her.”
“Is this... the scene our King wished for? Was this that person’s doing?”
“If you’ve come to look around, you can leave too. You’re in the way.”
Priest Seto was in a very bad mood.
He had connected Mana at Atem’s request — and the result was the uproar in the living world. That in itself was fine; what happened in another world was none of his concern. The problem was that a complaint had arrived. That required addressing.
He had summoned Mana and her supervising Mahad and delivered a thorough scolding. Immediately after being scolded, Mahad had started asking to see the state of the living world — so persistently and noisily that Priest Seto had eventually agreed, on the condition that a week’s worth of work be added to his load at a ten-percent increase. He had deliberately chosen the state of the living world rather than connecting directly to Atem, since direct contact would almost certainly result in zero work being done.
What came through was several days of headlines, all of them about that man.
The fact that the complaint had clearly made no dent was mildly irritating — though it was also entirely predictable. He had never been the sort to be moved by ordinary pressure.
What Atem saw in him was still something Priest Seto had not thought to examine.
He was the man who had taken the King from this world. When he first arrived, his conduct had been beyond anything permitted in this world — and he had known perfectly well it was beyond anything permitted, and done it anyway. Mahad had been fond of Atem, which meant his feelings toward this visitor would not be warm; he had kept up his agitation over the arrest until the very end. The main reason that day’s incident had taken so long to resolve was Mahad.
That said — Priest Seto didn’t dislike the man. Hardworking. Logical and precise. No objection to him as a custodian for Atem. Specifically — the vigour with which he pursued his work was the sort of thing Priest Seto would have wanted to keep close. If he had been of this world, he would have made him a priest or an official without hesitation.
After all, Priest Seto had been working even when he came to the Afterlife. From his own perspective, that was simply remote work — perfectly normal. But the Afterlife had no equivalent of work reform, and that visitor’s normalcy was the one point where Priest Seto genuinely could not determine whether the man was reasonable or extraordinary.
Mahad showed no sign of returning to his desk. Take a lesson from him. The impulse to hit him crossed Priest Seto’s mind briefly — but doing so in earnest risked a full work stoppage, so he held back and crossed his arms instead.
“Why does the King want this commotion? Why does that man seem so at ease?”
“I don’t know.”
“Until I understand, I can’t return to work.”
“Threats are useless. Ask your apprentice. And do your work.”
Even so.
He looked at the screen.
To speak no lies, and still show people what they want to see — that was masterful. The man on screen, smiling with complete composure, was a figure of reverence in his world.
Mahad was still demanding an explanation.
The origin was probably Atem’s small, quiet anxiety. Bright on the surface, but sensitive — the sort of person who could lose confidence in themselves precisely because they always put their own feelings last. Losing track of their own feelings entirely and reaching out for help — as she had done. The troublesome former pharaoh.
That anxiety had become jealousy, then possessiveness, then action — and because the man in question had a reach that was simply too large, it had resulted in this. That was probably how it had gone. Conjecture — but not far off. He had always been good at reading people, and at reading situations.
A pharaoh was no idle title. A shattered kingdom. Internal and external instability both — he had taken the throne in conditions like that. No time for a sceptre, only the need to assess, to fight, to keep moving. A crumbling territory. A people in fear. Diplomatic crisis. The enemies were not only outside the borders. What was called memory was too light a word for those days.
The pain at the origin of all of it — he could summon it vividly if he chose.
But Atem’s seal had been broken.
Yes, he could recall that loss with full clarity.
He could recall it — but Atem was free now. Carrying that kind of sentimentality into the present was unnecessary. What had happened was real, and it was past. Knowing that, Priest Seto was not going to be pulled back into it.
The pain was there, and yet it no longer moved him — a contradiction he understood. The long years of kingship after that battle had eroded the human part of himself. He had known that for some time.
Against those circumstances, Atem — who had been born into royalty but had not spent three thousand years being emptied by it — still had a chance. He had thought so before, and he thought so now.
Priest Seto had already acquired the language. He followed the modern characters on the screen as they refreshed and changed.
Then he looked up from the screen.
Ah. I see.
“Priest Seto!”
“You are noisy. Out. Ask her yourself. ...I will lend you a terminal. But do your work.”
“Wait, I cannot read these charact—”
“Learn.”
He grabbed Mahad by the collar, held his gaze until he flinched, and used the moment to push both Mahad and Mana out the door.
Finally. Back to work.
He resolved to request two additional terminals the next time contact was made.
Vena amoris. A fine thing, that.
