Near the end of summer, Atem leans against Seto’s back on the sofa and says: peace. She means it. A deep kiss follows. He tells her tonight, here, they’ll continue this. She says maybe tomorrow. He points out that she is probably the one who cannot wait. She agrees. What follows is patient, and careful, and entirely without force — and afterward, she falls asleep telling him she is happy, and wondering aloud whether they might have a child someday. The one most pleased by the change in atmosphere is Isono. No one ever knows.
This is a translation of an original work on Pixiv.
Original Title: 14 ここで
Original Author: 葉人(@Hathor₋yuki)
Personal site: https://prideshipping.sakura.ne.jp
That said, with school and work taking him somewhere most days regardless, the mansion was quiet as ever unless friends happened to visit.
They became lovers — in that sense — because Seto had seen a flicker of desire in Atem.
Near the end of summer, with the heat still lingering.
Atem was spending the same unhurried time with Seto as always.
Before work. Seto was on the sofa, working through a report. Atem had climbed up beside him and was leaning against his back.
“Peace,” she said.
“What brought that on?”
“I was thinking how calm I feel. How happy.”
Nothing in particular happening — and that itself was happiness. That was what Atem said.
The happiness of nothing happening. She had come to understand that.
Atem, who as royalty and as pharaoh had probably never known a moment’s true rest, had come to find that peace in time with no demands on it. It was something entirely human — and for Seto, there was no more welcome change.
She leaned further into him, working at a puzzle ring. Warm. A comfortable kind of time.
He set the report aside. Reading and deciding could wait. Seto’s processing speed was more than sufficient for that.
“What about you?”
She had already solved it — the pieces were scattered on the table. He picked them up one by one and began fitting them back together.
He was very happy. How to put it.
“Well.”
“That’s all? Couldn’t you have found a better word than that?”
“My vocabulary left me.”
“Yours? That’s rare.”
“What do you think I am?”
“Someone who always has a lot to say.”
“I gathered that wasn’t a compliment.”
“You caught that, did you,” she said, and laughed.
He caught the laughing lips in a kiss — unhurried, longer than usual, as though making a point — and then pressed deeper.
Atem’s eyes went wide for a moment, startled — then, as the warmth of it registered, her eyelids slowly fell.
The strength going out of her body. Thoughts going soft. A floating, pleasant lightness.
“Mm — hah. That — I can’t breathe.”
Even as she said it, the lips moving away felt like a loss. More. More of what?
“I feel strange. My head is all hazy. I’m not sure what’s happening.”
“That’s how it is.”
The low voice she had long since grown used to landed somewhere deep and pulled tight. Atem looked up at him.
The movement in her eyes. The flush in her cheeks. The quickened breath. Every small thing was speaking. Whether or not Atem was aware of it, what was there was real.
This was desire.
Seto blinked — once, visibly. He was not a person who blinked often or looked away, so this was unusual. Atem tilted her head.
“Seto? What is it?”
“Tonight. Here. We’ll continue this.”
“Con — cont — continue, that means—”
“I won’t push you.”
He said it against her ear.
“But tonight—”
“Would now be better? I could take you right now if you preferred—”
“No — stop—”
Atem moved to stop him, face flushed, eyes bright with something that wasn’t quite alarm.
“You’ll want time to prepare yourself.”
“Tomorrow, maybe.”
“Are you sure it isn’t you who can’t wait that long?”
His fingertip traced the line of her neck, light as a breath. A shiver ran through her, involuntary.
Tonight. Continuing. In plain terms — sleeping together. She understood what that meant; she had been educated on such things three thousand years ago. Which was precisely why waiting through the hours felt embarrassing.
She knew what to do with a man’s body, and how to manage that heat. But this body was different. She didn’t know this kind of heat — the kind that seemed to spread through every part of her.
She wanted him. Her body was saying so, loudly. Was this a woman’s instinct?
“Can’t. Wait.”
“Good.”
He was whispering, and yet his voice seemed to resonate more than usual.
He had made a promise with Atem for the night. Tonight, he would hold her.
Seto looked out over Domino from the top floor of the main building.
Human beings are resources. That had been the foundation of what became KaibaCorp.
The heir’s education — called that, but abuse would be the accurate word. Negotiation. The knowledge expected of those in power. The conviction that people were most vulnerable through their desires. How to handle others to dominate them. What to give to make them comply. All of it drummed in.
Seducing others regardless of gender. Or being seduced without losing control. Practical sessions, as they were called. The cold instruction to experience it directly and learn to act without feeling.
Seto had taken that knowledge as survival information, nothing more. He had shut himself down completely and passed through it. No pleasure. No feeling. This is simply a task, he had told himself — and learned it that way.
And the knowledge that had been installed for use had been, in practice, something he never needed and had long since set aside.
It was not something he thought of ordinarily. A wretched past, to be crushed underfoot.
He would not bring Atem into any part of that past. He would not handle her. He would touch her with his heart.
Half a day. That warm body would be holding heat through the hours, thinking of what was to come. A promise was a promise. He had always kept them. He would hold her gently, without leaving a mark on her, and wrap her in warmth. The only escape, at most, was within these arms.
His mouth curved, without thinking. Got her. Not letting go.
And he knew, at the same time, that he too was caught.
He closed his eyes and opened them. The face of Seto Kaiba as the world knew him. There was always more to deal with than could be dealt with. There always would be.
Atem showered, then pulled on a thin pair of pyjamas as she always did.
She had no idea what she was supposed to wear. She had never been taught what a woman was supposed to do in a situation like this.
Seto wasn’t home yet. She let herself into his empty room.
Here.
The memory of the morning came back, and the heat returned all over her body. No — it wasn’t quite that. This hadn’t gone out while she waited. It had been smouldering since morning. She hadn’t remembered it just now — she had been thinking about it all along.
Where was she supposed to be? If she thought about what was going to happen, the bedroom made sense — but that also felt too obvious, too deliberate, and she hesitated.
She wandered back and forth across the room and eventually settled in the bedroom. If she fell asleep here the way she sometimes did, would the heat go away?
After a while, she heard someone come in. Seto was home. Without realising it, her body had gone tense.
“Atem. You’re here.”
His footsteps went straight to the bedroom. How had he known?
Seto always found her.
“Atem.”
“W — welcome back.”
“I’m back.”
He looked at her, calm and unhurried, taking in her state.
She had prepared herself properly, it seemed. She had made up her mind.
“I’m going to shower. If you’re frightened, you can leave while I do.”
There’s no leaving now, she thought. I’ve already been caught.
“I’m not frightened.”
Staying like this felt scarier.
“All right.”
He ruffled her hair as he always did, and went.
When he came back, it would happen. She could still leave. There was still time.
But he had been waiting, she was certain of it.
She understood what it was to want someone, in a man’s body. And it wasn’t as if she hadn’t wanted to be close to him either.
The truth was, I’m not frightened was a lie. Probably he had seen through it — they were both skilled at reading each other. But if he still came to her after knowing that, it meant she was all right. That was what it meant.
He would not push. He never had.
All of this — it was with her consent. Because she had wanted it too.
She had wanted it herself.
Thinking it through that far, her face wasn’t the only thing that was hot anymore. There was nothing to be gained from thinking about this alone.
The sound of water. What was Seto thinking about in the shower?
A little while later, he came back.
He crossed straight to her, without hesitation — nothing like Atem’s aimless wandering. He sat down on the bed beside her. Very close. He had just showered, which probably explained why she was more aware of his warmth than usual.
“Indirect light.”
The brightness dropped. The two of them, alone in the bedroom.
Atem was sure her heartbeat was audible.
Seto pulled her close and they fell together onto the bed. She was rigid in his arms — but her body was warm. Unmistakably warm. Her body told him it had been waiting.
He began to undo her pyjama buttons, one by one.
“Wait. Not — not that fast.”
“Are you ready?”
“I said I was.”
“Then there’s no problem.”
That wasn’t the point. He had come home, and they hadn’t even kissed yet.
Her body was completely covered, no room to move.
“Seto.”
Just that — and lips came down as though the meaning had been understood without a word.
The kiss was deep from the start, and the heat spread through her all at once. She had been waiting for it all day.
His warm tongue moved through her mouth — the tip of it, the roof, the backs of her teeth. Deeper than the morning’s.
Atem paid no attention to the saliva spilling over and chased his tongue, desperate.
“Mm — mm, hm—”
She didn’t know where it was coming from, but something was aching, quietly and persistently.
Seto looked into her eyes. They were hazy, bright with tears.
“We’ve only just begun.”
“Then — you take something off too. That’s not fair.”
“All right.”
He pulled his shirt off — a broad, solid body, offered without hesitation. Several old scars, here and there.
She knew something of his past. But she didn’t resent those marks, or mourn them. They were the proof of how he had become who he was.
“The thin clothes aren’t bad, on a night like this.”
“You should have said so. I wouldn’t have put pyjamas on. I did think about it.”
“I’m joking.”
“Don’t joke at a time like this.”
Laughter, warm against her neck.
“I thought it might help with the nerves.”
She complained that he shouldn’t talk right against her ear — and her ear was bitten for the trouble.
The heat of his mouth, his tongue, the soft sounds — all of it seemed to reverberate inside her head. Atem squeezed her eyes shut and held on.
“Don’t hold on. Make a sound. It’ll be easier.”
“A sound?”
“You’ll wear yourself out, keeping your eyes and mouth that tight.”
He lay down beside her and laughed.
With the familiar distance restored, some of her composure came back.
“I’ll be fine. Probably.”
“Probably. Interesting — you’re wearing underclothes tonight.”
“I didn’t know what to put on.”
She didn’t usually wear anything to sleep in. That was something Seto had occasionally found difficult to know where to look.
“Shall I take these off as well?”
“You don’t have to — wait. No. I’m ready.”
Her small breasts, bared to the air. Her body was slight — probably not much to hold. She had sometimes wondered if that was why he hadn’t touched her. But that wasn’t it, she thought. Seto was always waiting for Atem.
His hands moved across her, exploring — shoulder, neck, chest, stomach, waist, thighs. With that reach, nowhere was out of range.
His face pressed to her chest, the softness taken gently between his lips. Touched so lightly she couldn’t tell if it was stroking or kneading. When his fingertip grazed the peak, her head went numb. He followed with his tongue, and a sound slipped out before she could stop it.
“Ah—”
Both at once — tongue on one side, fingers on the other — and her body gave a sudden jolt.
His lips moved to her stomach, her side, sweet bites along the way. Her breathing came apart.
She arched back involuntarily, and her throat was caught between his teeth. Not painful — held gently, his tongue moving against it. The sensation of being consumed, from every angle. The heat rose.
And still he found places he hadn’t touched, and consumed those too.
“Mm — Seto—”
The hands that had wandered everywhere moved across her stomach, downward.
“There — that’s—”
She tried to close her legs, to hide — but the strength had gone out of them, and they barely moved.
His fingertip traced the crease, and the feeling returned — that tightening, deep in her core.
By his sense of it, she was beginning to be wet, though not yet to overflowing.
“Shall I use this?”
He produced a small bottle.
She understood what it was for. Three thousand years ago, she had been educated on such things. But she didn’t want it. This was a woman’s body. This body could take him — she was certain of it.
“No. I don’t want that.”
“But—”
“I don’t want it. Still no.”
He hadn’t expected resistance here. Of all the things she might have held firm on.
And then she said something to the effect of wanting to receive only him.
If this unconscious, oblivious sincerity was trying to break his reason — she was succeeding. His own temperature rose.
“If there’s any pain, tell me immediately.”
“Pain is fine.”
“Atem. Pain isn’t something you need.”
Those elegant fingers were touching her there. Just the thought of it made anticipation and something like fear riot in her chest.
The slow, gentle movement of his fingertip, and then carefully, carefully, a single finger pressed in.
“Does it hurt?”
“...No.”
She couldn’t tell if it hurt or not. There was a sense of something foreign. But not pain.
“You’ll adjust quickly.”
“Mm—”
He covered her in kisses, returning to her lips now and then — and she chased them, desperate not to let go.
The inserted finger pressed gradually deeper. Each slow withdrawal and return brought more sound from her body, and the heat built in her head. She wanted to cover her ears from the sound of it, but her hands wouldn’t leave the sheets.
“Deep — mm, hah—”
“I may be able to reach the deepest part. My fingers are long.”
All the way. The place deep in her core that had been pulling tight since morning.
His fingers worked carefully — opening, deepening, adding another, pressing from inside, searching. He moved with precision and attention, watching her face, finding where it seemed to matter and touching nearby to broaden the sensation.
“Uh — no—”
“Let it all in.”
His fingers — those neat, precise fingers that handled cards — were inside her. Thinking that made her breathing catch entirely, and she could only let herself be moved.
She wasn’t conscious of it, but the faint transgression of it was part of what was pulling her deeper.
Something climbing from her back, from her core.
“No — stop — I can’t — something’s—”
“You’re all right. Don’t be afraid.”
By the time she voiced it, her body had been opened and readied.
She was catching her breath when she heard movement — and understood that he was undressing.
It was really going to happen, she thought. Her heart was going so fast she couldn’t look at him.
And yet she looked anyway, drawn by the need to see — and saw him putting on a condom.
She knew what that meant. She had been a man, after all. That’s enormous. Like Obelisk. This body might be built to receive him — but.
She stared, involuntarily caught his eye.
“That won’t — it won’t fit.”
“Then we leave it for another time. There’s no need to rush.”
Seto was gentle. She knew she couldn’t stop now. And she had already decided.
“...I’m all right. Come.”
His fingertip confirmed the entrance once more, and the tip pressed against her.
“You’re so tense I can’t get in.”
He kissed her as he said it, laughing slightly. A sweet, heavy kiss that made her feel she might melt into it.
While Atem was lost in the kiss, Seto began to enter.
The tension didn’t help — her body was new to this, and the fit was tight. There was likely some pain. But Seto moved slowly, steadily forward.
“Ugh—”
“Look at me.”
“No—”
“That’s a shame.”
He kissed her lips, her cheek, the bridge of her nose — and the hands that had been covering her face came away on their own. He reached her eyelid, her forehead — and she was wearing the expression of someone enduring something.
He pressed his face to her neck and breathed her in. Her scent — strongly, irresistibly drawing to him. Sweet. Like a flower opening.
He bit softly, licked upward — and she squirmed at the tickle. He moved to her chest, just above the collar where clothes would hide it, and left a single mark. Let her find it in the bathroom later.
He could have left them everywhere, every part of her — but that was for another time.
For today, he had set the difficulty low, adjusting to Atem. There was a battle with reason, but he was not going to go at full force. This was not a game.
From the entrance to roughly halfway — moving several times to let her adjust — something seemed to loosen, and gradually, sweet sounds began to slip through.
As expected, Atem’s resistance only held to a certain point. Beyond it, she was different.
“Ah — mm — Seto. Seto— ah—”
The sweet sounds that meant she was feeling it.
Being called by name pushed his own heat higher. He had been on the receiving end of that all day.
“Can I go deeper?”
“There’s more — further in?”
“About halfway, I’d say.”
Atem had struggled at first, but her adaptability was high. She was learning how to release the tension.
She had decided to take him in completely — with all of herself.
“...Come.”
He exhaled, caught her hips, and moved forward — a single, unbroken motion, but slowly, carefully, not to hurt.
“Ah — wait — mm — hah — ah!”
She let out a long breath and a sound that wasn’t quite a cry, something between them.
Those crimson eyes, half-open, hazed with desire — beautiful.
The shock of reaching the deepest point had left her trembling slightly. He waited for that to settle, gave a brief pause, and then began to move, gently, in a slow rhythm.
Moving — the entrance was tight, but inside, her body pulled him deeper.
There were no words for this moment.
“Atem.”
“Ah — deep — mm. Mm—”
“Atem—”
Her opened body moved to take in what it felt. Something heartbreakingly earnest about that.
But she was still not quite ready to crest.
Shallow, then deep — moving through her, while his fingers found the small bud and traced it. Stroking, teasing, pressing.
Inside alone was too early. What remained from before — that small raised place — swelled, and her body gave another sudden, full jolt.
“No — stop — not that — ah!”
She knew a feeling like this one. Every time he touched there, a sharp, overwhelming sensation ran through her — her body gripped him from within, involuntarily, and her toes stretched straight.
She twisted, tried to get away — and yet the direct sensation from outside and the soft sensation rising from within — she drowned in both of them, without resisting, and cried out.
That was desire, exactly that. The sensation of her nails finding his back, her breathing, her hair stuck damp to her face — all of it unbearably dear.
As the movement deepened, Atem felt as though she was simply being rocked, carried. All the way in, touching everything. Nothing made sense anymore. Only that it felt good.
“Hah — feels — good — Seto—”
Looking up at him through blurring vision, his expression too was one of pleasure — and she felt something warm move through her chest.
The sounds of the room, his breath against her. Feeling all of it, she felt something rising.
“Ah — I can’t — ah! Hah — something—”
For a moment, her consciousness went white. No thoughts. Something, coming.
“Ah — mm—!”
A soundless cry. Her whole body went rigid for an instant, then released with an exhale.
Inside, she contracted in pulses.
Seto looked at her — that expression of bliss — and felt himself go over at the deepest point.
When he withdrew, a small drop of blood fell — not much, and no sign of injury. He let out a quiet breath.
He touched her cheek softly. A dazed face looked up at him. She was probably thinking nothing at all. When every thought and feeling is erased — that was what this was.
“...Seto?”
“Are you in any pain?”
“No. Nowhere.”
A loose, warm smile. Eyes still bright. Both were saying things that needed no words.
He ran his hand through her hair and lay down beside her.
Atem was already half asleep in the curve of his arm. There would be no pillow talk.
“Seto—”
“What is it.”
“I’m happy. I really am.”
“So am I.”
“Someday — you and I — will we have a child...”
Her expression as she said it was entirely peaceful.
They hadn’t been together long in this way. Seto thought he wouldn’t mind if it were just the two of them — indefinitely, or even permanently. But if Atem wanted it, that was a different matter.
“Perhaps.”
“If that day came — I think I’d be so happy...”
Someday, Atem might carry a child.
If that time came — he could easily imagine himself becoming the kind of person entirely undone by it. If anything, Atem might be the steadier one.
He held that slight, soft body and watched Atem talk herself to sleep, drifting down through words as she went. She wouldn’t remember any of it when she woke. That was fine. The words didn’t matter.
They were what was in her heart. They lived there.
Atem had said she was happy. Being able to see that — that was his happiness.
He pressed his lips, very softly, to her closed eyelids. No response.
Nothing disturbed the happiness of these two.
Such was the night at the end of that summer.
After that, they came together in body from time to time. Sometimes he reached for her; sometimes she came to him. And sometimes they simply spread out their cards and fell asleep just like that.
The warmth that wrapped around them had drawn unmistakably closer, and fuller — and the one who was more pleased by this than anyone was Isono. No one ever knew.
