October 24th. The ceremony runs over midnight and onto Seto's birthday, which was Atem's idea and not entirely a generous one.
Between the vows and the cake, Seto remembers a conversation from two years earlier, in a cleared room in the afterlife, with a priest who had never once tried to stop him — and who had already decided what he was going to ask the goddess for.
This is a translation of an original work on Pixiv.
Original Title: 16 女神の褒賞
Original Author: 葉人(@Hathor_yuki)
Personal site: https://prideshipping.sakura.ne.jp
The ceremonial venue KaibaCorp had been building opened.
Seto, dressed in white formal wear, was working through interviews and greetings.
White clothing, formal wear at that, and with the ring uproar still not entirely settled, nearly all the questions were about marriage.
There was no longer any need to keep it hidden.
Seto announced that he would be holding his ceremony here today.
Applause broke out and congratulations flew. Outrageous as he was, everything that man did somehow ended up viewed favourably by the world.
Atem watched all of it through a screen in the waiting room.
The caption on the screen changed from a note about the venue's opening to KaibaCorp President Seto Kaiba (20) Marries.
It had started as an opening address, and now it was impossible to tell whether it was news or an advertisement. But the impact must have grown considerably.
He'd certainly done it on purpose. Seto Kaiba was a strategist and a power type. The situation had come out exactly that way.
"Your husband... that's Kaiba for you."
"He said there'd be no live broadcast of the ceremony, so apparently he needed it for publicity. He stands out far too much."
"There's no question the bookings here will flood in by tomorrow."
"Probably. ...Téa, you thought it would come to this, didn't you. Since when?"
Téa's intuition, which had been trying to push Atem and Seto together all along, had seen through both their hearts splendidly.
Téa smiled softly and told her.
"Since the day I first got a call from you."
At the surprise, Atem's head came up as though flicked.
"That long ago... I see. I was slow to notice my own feelings. I think I kept him waiting a long time."
"Was he waiting, though?"
"What do you mean?"
"Waiting or not — Kaiba was always with you, wasn't he."
Always with her.
She had returned to the afterlife, broken even the vow of a rematch, and thought their roads would never cross again. And then Seto came, and they crossed after all. And this time she had followed him to the living world, and before she knew it, it had become this.
Before she knew it, was it. Perhaps it had been so from the beginning.
From the beginning — Seto had said exactly that.
"You're right."
Téa watched the bride, Atem, smiling calmly, and thought how beautiful she was.
It got noisy outside the waiting room, and the group came in.
"Nngh — I still don't want to give her away!"
"Joey, it's too early to cry."
"But today is only the ceremony; the marriage is already done, so I'm somebody's wife already, you know?"
"Congratulations, Atem. But where did you pick up a phrase like somebody's wife?"
"Well, Aibou, there's this drama that runs in the afternoons—"
"Right, I understand, thank you very much, that's enough."
Yugi's troubles showed no sign of running out. Perhaps it would be like this his whole life. Atem was, after all, a nationally protected airhead.
"Is that Egyptian national dress?"
Yugi asked.
"This is the dress of the period, and Seto — well, he has the same name. You know, the priest Seto you said you saw in the world of memories. He prepared it. Made in the afterlife."
At some point Seto had gone to collect it. Those two were birds of a feather. Perhaps they were on good terms?
There weren't many people who could keep up an exchange with Seto peaceably.
In reality, as far as being on good terms went, it amounted to not bad, but that was not something Atem knew. Neither of them was interested in other people.
"Ah, the guy who looks like Kaiba! He really is a good sort."
I'd like to have a drink with him someday, the men clamoured, but Atem thought they might not get along.
Seto closely resembled her husband, Seto Kaiba.
Being combative toward that Seto, all she could do was hope it wouldn't turn into a fight if such a day ever came.
She couldn't imagine Seto quarrelling with anyone, but his attitude could hardly be called good, and he was the type with no interest in comrades or friendship, which was the same as Seto.
She could connect them now if she liked, but she'd only just contacted him recently and he'd surely be angry, so she stopped.
Atem didn't know it, but he was still angry over the full-blown rage business, so it was a wise judgement. Atem's luck was on the good side, and it served her.
While she was watching her friends make a cheerful racket, Seto's voice came from outside.
"Atem, may I come in?"
"Yes."
The groom's entrance.
A well-arranged face, an outstanding build, an overwhelming aura that would put a model to shame.
Seto walked over to Atem, and for a while they looked at each other.
Standing together, the air between them was natural, as though this were simply how it was.
The two of them beautifully dressed as today's leads, a picture.
My oshi are precious, and Téa pressed a hand to her mouth. A normal reaction, as ever.
"You changed."
"That was for publicity."
"Huh. There's a lot to it."
Blue eyes took Atem in intently.
The wedding dress of three thousand years ago, of the era of her first life. The eye-emphasising makeup particular to that country.
"Well? It suits me rather well, doesn't it?"
"Yes. Very beautiful."
"Seto! Not — in front of everyone."
"You're the one who asked whether it suited you."
The outfit for the pre-shoot was good too, Seto said, exasperated, laughing as though driving the point home.
His tone was very calm; nothing of that fierce Seto Kaiba image. For better or worse he was a man who knew exactly how to present himself. With Atem he was thoroughly indulgent.
Seto reached for her hair as usual, but stopped short of ruffling it and only played with her fringe with his fingertips.
"Don't mess up my hair, all right?"
"You needn't say it."
Then he looked over Atem's face, drew one lipstick from the row of them lined up, and handed it to her.
"This colour will suit you."
"R-right."
"I'll go ahead and wait."
As though that had been his only errand, Seto left.
Being made to watch them flirt left him with nowhere to look, so Yugi was privately relieved. A sweet Seto Kaiba was hazardous material inviting one down the forbidden road.
"What did he come for?"
"That might be us. We interrupted the newlyweds."
"There's nothing to worry about. He's waiting for me."
Always, Seto was waiting for Atem.
In sickness and in health, till death do us part...
The standard phrase. Did they swear to love, to cherish and to give their hearts, at any time and in all circumstances?
"I do."
Atem answered first. A clear voice, without hesitation.
She was beside him now. And always would be.
"I swear it. Not even death will part us."
Not even death. Crimson eyes flicked a glance at him. They would never be apart again.
Lips in the colour he had chosen. There was no veil.
He bent a little, and they exchanged a short kiss.
At the edge of his vision, four men were weeping, as predicted.
By the reception the little friends had recovered somewhat, though they were still teary-eyed, and Isono still couldn't put his handkerchief away. Hopeless creatures.
Seto Kaiba was an advertising face. This was private, so no reporters had been admitted. But Atem being chased about on that account was not to be permitted.
First, an announcement from KaibaCorp's official channels. One photograph and a brief comment; the press would have no choice but to build their articles from it.
But as though that alone were insufficient, footage always leaks.
Next, video and photographs taken only by selected internal staff would be passed to certain trusted outlets under the appearance of accident. Footage of the natural smile Atem showed at the reception, and the small gestures between the two of them. The media would seize on it, but the timing and content of the leak should be finely adjusted.
Further, small items disguised as coincidence would be casually released onto social media. Little anecdotes from the wedding, or a behind-the-scenes shot taken by a guest, posted from anonymous accounts. The topic would spread, but the design protected Atem's privacy.
Which scenes should be chosen? The first bite — no. The bouquet toss was better, but Atem stood out too much and it was dangerous. The exchange of rings was harmless but far too ordinary, a chain of insufficiency.
And so the balance between public attention and privacy would be complete. For the world, a glamorous, talked-about marriage. For the two of them, a quiet, secure time of love.
The information war would become an invisible shield around their married life.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Who knows."
"You had your work face on."
"My apologies."
"The duties of a company president's wife, or something? I understand. There's no need to worry."
Did she really understand? She hadn't taken a wife, apparently, but there was a possibility she was confusing it with the official duties of a queen. He controlled a great deal, but he had no memory of becoming a king.
As a realistic matter, things around her would get noisy, and on occasion she'd need to attend as his partner. Atem had been royalty originally and had a good head. She looked likely to pick up bearing and manners quickly, so he wasn't worried.
Atem was gazing at the ring with the blue line in it, eyes narrowed.
He dropped his own eyes to the ring on his hand with the crimson line. What it had taken to produce that colour without the slightest variance.
At the workshop, failures that had come out close but not quite were piled high. Seto's eye had permitted not the smallest difference in shade.
"Atem, Kaiba. Let's take a photograph."
"Of course. You get in it too — no sour face."
"Very well."
He put an arm around Atem's shoulder and turned his eyes to the camera.
Being photographed was routine. He glanced at the little friends making a fuss about pulling a strange face or having their eyes shut.
Impossible, you came out perfectly in all of them, she said, so he looked into the device in Atem's hand — and her eyes were closed.
To Seto it was not impossible; such things were a matter of accumulated experience.
"You took several, didn't you. Fire enough shots and something lands."
Atem went on grumbling as usual, but the ones taken when Isono diffidently asked for a photograph came out well, and her mood was thoroughly restored.
This was of course not because Atem had accumulated experience. The photographer was simply skilled.
If she wanted experience, she could be photographed as much as she liked from now on. By the time she was used to it, it would have become good memories.
If these were things he could accumulate with Atem, then the past was unexpectedly not so bad. The past changed shape into the future.
That a day would come when he thought such things about memory and the past — he had never imagined it.
"Even so, you really are beautiful. It suits you."
"Thank you. I was surprised he had that kind of taste myself."
Atem was in full bloom in this so-called girl talk.
The costume that one had prepared suited her almost too well.
It was a few days before the ceremony.
Contact came from that one, and when he crossed to the afterlife, wedding garments were held out to him without a word.
"Are you sure about this?"
"You ask the same thing you asked back then. I told you. If I weren't sure I'd have had you detained from the start."
"There were plenty of them, at least."
"Hm. Well said."
When Seto took the garments, the priest smiled thinly. He looked genuinely satisfied.
From the very first, this priest alone had never turned hostility or confusion — negative feeling of any kind — toward him. He didn't know why and wasn't interested. It had been the same when he'd pointed his right foot at Atem to say you are neither king nor god to me. He hadn't even shown anger.
As though this man held the same view.
Because Atem wouldn't come down promptly he'd ended up in a full-scale brawl, and while he was hurriedly holding the surroundings back, this priest had watched with an unreadable expression, not a flicker of change in his face.
Neither stopping it nor stoking it, without fear or confusion, he had simply watched with those blue eyes.
The first time they spoke was when Atem wished for the living world.
Whom he should address was hardly unclear after months of watching the afterlife. Priest Seto. The man from the stone tablet.
That day, the day Atem said he wanted to go to the living world. He went straight to the priest.
"Atem has wished for the living world. I'll take him once the arrangements are made."
Despite the declaration that he would carry off the King, that one had risen to his feet but showed not a trace of displeasure — only an amused face.
"So you've come. Then I have a thought on the matter."
When he silently urged him to continue, the man's mouth curved into a thin smile.
He had intended to take him no matter who in the afterlife refused. But the words that followed, and their content, were unexpectedly mild.
"Come. I bear you no hostility. Even the goddess's reward may be obtained — at least one of them."
"Reward?"
"You are a man who accomplishes everything by his own power. You'll say you want no interference."
"Naturally."
He had his odds. Find Atem's body, restore it, and let him dwell there. Even if Atem's original couldn't be used, there were any number of other methods.
"Do you imagine the Pharaoh — no, that Atem's wish is only to go to the living world? It isn't, is it."
"That's right. There's no way you don't know it. Isn't that understood on your side as well? What is your aim?"
"My aim? I have not stopped you from the beginning. Nor will I stop you now. Doesn't that tell you everything?"
"...So it is, then."
That attitude he'd shown at the start.
"If that person wishes for it, I want all of it granted to him. That is all."
There was no presence of anyone around. He must have cleared the area; thorough of him.
Calling Atem by name and calling him a person. Presumably for that alone.
And saying he would grant that wish.
That was the priest's wish.
"A boy whose future was closed off. That is my understanding. If the closed thing can be given to him, I would go so far as to petition the goddess."
"...Petition. What do you intend?"
"There is nothing for you to be concerned about. I know it because I inherited the throne. A king is only a lonely god. And I am his one friend."
The priest lowered his eyes. He was looking at that loss, presumably. He knew the same pain; arriving at the same conclusion was natural.
But this man.
The man depicted on a stone tablet three thousand years ago. Who had inherited the throne, who had written verse, and who — if its contents were true — had wished for a future together in some far place where souls cross.
Was he saying that a future with Atem needn't have himself in it?
"Are you sure about this?"
"If I weren't sure I'd have had you detained from the start."
"As if you could catch me."
"For all that, you seem thoroughly caught by that person."
The priest laughed. No arguing. He was caught.
"That's his side."
"I won't deny it."
The someone Atem had been waiting for all along. It was the insolent man in front of him.
What was good about him, Seto didn't understand. But Atem had wished for it. That reason alone was sufficient. This man had power, and his character too was suitable for placing beside an Atem who had left the afterlife. Furthermore, it was plain to see that he held the same view. Which meant this man was optimal for accomplishing Seto's own aim—
The priest lifted his face. He threw eyes of remarkable will straight into him. Seto was of course not a man to flinch at that. He merely thought it.
"A parting gift. I'll negotiate with the goddess in my name."
When the priest turned his back, he thought he saw the wings of a white dragon.
"You give that person a place. I will give that person existence."
Being directed by others didn't suit him and would never be permitted. The solidarity and cooperation Atem was fond of were likewise declined.
And this man had the same disposition. He had understood it watching him; talking confirmed it.
But even so the priest had wished — for Atem's happiness by his own hand. For a future.
If it was for obtaining her with certainty, this method was, right now, the optimal solution.
Appropriately, and choosing no means at all. That was long since familiar.
Their interests aligned.
Not a god, but a human.
In this world, this was a complete outrage.
To wish for such a thing. This was a kind of complicity.
"Very well. I'll come again once it's arranged."
He would take the hand offered. That went both ways. Seto turned his coat and left the priest's chamber.
He had blue eyes. The same colour as his own, as though he'd looked into a mirror. A blue without the slightest variance.
"Seto."
"What is it?"
"Happy birthday."
"And I wondered what you were going to say."
The wedding garments that one had sent suited Atem far too well, and asserted a feeling on an entirely different scale from Joey still clamouring that he didn't want to give her away, or Ishizu with her troublesome remarks.
Not merely a garment of celebration; far more than that. The cut and the use of colour spoke of nobility. Fine embroidery in the details gave delicacy and transience. And above all, the wings of a dragon that meant to honour and protect flickered in and out of view.
The man who had wished for Atem's happiness, and her freedom, more than anyone. And the man who knew Atem better than anyone.
His one friend, indeed.
If this was a friend, then those little friends were nothing but playing at friendship.
He wouldn't claim there was no jealousy in it. He didn't think he'd won or lost. The same went for that one. This too was presumably one shape of love.
Only Seto knew it.
Seto. Atem walks toward a happy future. He murmured it inwardly.
"What's wrong with that? You look pleased yourself this year."
"That may be so."
"Don't say it as though it were someone else's business."
"You're right. Thank you."
Atem's eyes went wide in surprise.
"Seto said thank you..."
"What is that supposed to be."
Last year was dreadful, she said, and what of it. He had it in his head as memory, but he didn't know it.
He caught the cake cream at the corner of Atem's mouth on a fingertip and tasted it. Sweet. A taste like this very reality.
In wishing for happiness, for freedom, there was no difference in the weight of it. Only in shape and in role.
"Atem. You are going to be happy."
Now he'd gone and said the same thing as that one. Seto was exasperated with himself and, for an instant, drew his brows together.
"I am happy. You be happy too."
"You're here. It's already granted."
"Ah, honestly! You really are shameless!"
When he took her hand and looked into her eyes and murmured it as always, Atem went red and cursed at him.
Eventually she might get used to it and a day might come when she was offhand about it, and that would be fine too. It would be proof that she had accepted it.
For now she was embarrassed and casting about for something to complain of.
But happiness was fact, so there was nothing to be done. Seto simply told her so without a word of falsehood.
Atem. The one thing he had wanted with his own heart, neither by reason nor by calculation.
The first thing Seto had ever wanted, waited for, and had chosen.
He would never betray that answer, not for eternity.
A god does not bring healing. Nor does a god bring happiness.
What a god gives is life alone.
When will she notice that the one who touches Seto's feelings and brings him everything is the human being called Atem?
However many years it takes is fine. Not even death will part them. There is time to spare.
He will simply teach her.
Again, the same way. One at a time.
End
