tem has already decided. He simply has not been told what he is deciding.
Kaiba does not touch him. Not once, not in the whole of the afterlife, because touching him would give the ancient ghost information, and information is the only thing that can lose this. So he waits, and calculates, and lets the distance do the work — until the day he judges it right to put the question in front of Atem and make him answer it out loud.
He wins. He has been going to win since a certain afternoon in the living world, and he knows precisely which card bought it. What he did not calculate for was the moment the card stopped being only a card.
This is a translation of an original work on Pixiv.
Original Title: 06a 切り札の掌握
Original Author: 葉人(@Hathor_yuki)
Personal site: https://prideshipping.sakura.ne.jp
A beautiful gait. The weight favouring neither left nor right; balanced, composed, unbroken footsteps.
Kaiba stopped walking. Drawn along, Atem stopped too.
"…Kaiba?"
From behind, a cold presence drifted.
"My king."
Seto's low voice.
To Kaiba, calculation showed through beneath the restrained voice and the restrained feeling. No — it was being shown deliberately, as a warning.
"You seem to be enjoying yourself a great deal."
"Mm. Well enough."
Kaiba drew Atem's shoulder lightly toward him and let a thin smile show.
"The ancient ghost. Let's go, Atem. I've had fruit sent through today."
His mental state was operating as usual. His thinking was sound. But unlike usual, tension was mixed into it. Kaiba — no, precisely because he was Kaiba — could not help being conscious of Seto's existence.
Seto did not miss what lay inside him, and laughed coldly.
"The power of memory from the living world, is it. Modern-day whelp. Do you imagine that will let you escape my influence?"
Bewildered by the ominous air, Atem nonetheless felt warmth spread deep in his chest when he called up "the memory of the living world."
The memory of the living world Kaiba had given him, and the memory of affection.
Even in the afterlife, they were certainly protecting Atem's heart.
Kaiba had long since made up his mind to fight Seto. Ever since the moment he met Atem in the living world.
At first he had thought that the memories shown to him regardless of his own will were coloured by a besotted partiality. But he had been wrong. Once he actually met Atem, his heart was drawn to him past all helping.
And then he understood. That there was nothing to do but fight.
The memory knew. That against this man who had once been king, not one moment's carelessness was permitted. He understood that better than anyone.
A majesty that commanded a room simply by standing in it; an observational power that let nothing past and drove an opponent into a corner; a sense of responsibility with the resolve to carry everything; and the unwavering calm to carry all of it out.
Because he knew, the various qualities that composed Seto seemed to Kaiba to seep out like a fountain when they actually faced one another. What lurked behind the quiet was the power to rule.
He would give the appearance of long, calm deliberation, and then, when he moved, play a move that changed the board in a single stroke. He could choose without hesitation even a judgment with destructive force that could not be undone.
To those around him he probably did not look like so ruthless a being.
But in fact he could choose, instantly, to cut away an entire city if it were required. He had the cold-bloodedness to convert lives and territory alike into calculation.
He conducted himself calmly and rationally, but Kaiba knew that inside he held violent feeling and possessiveness.
The violent feeling could reverse the air of a room in an instant and leave the other man shaking with fear or despair. The possessiveness eliminated every last outside interference and displayed a suppressive force that made one shudder.
Even so, whoever the opponent, Atem — and what he had given Atem — could not be taken.
Kaiba fixed his eyes on the Seto in front of him, never letting the smile leave his mouth, and did not take his hand from Atem's shoulder.
In Atem's eyes, the two presences were reflected at once.
For some reason complicated feelings mixed together, and his heart wavered.
The air of the afterlife felt as though it had frozen over.
But even within it, the power of the memory of being alive and of affection became an invisible thread, and went on protecting Atem.
Kaiba's gaze and Seto's, each of them, pierced Atem.
A quiet psychological battle was unfolding in the darkness of the afterlife.
Another day.
There were two shadows before Atem.
One was Kaiba, who had faced him from the living world, who had loved and been loved, and who had arrived here carrying the memory of being alive.
The other was Seto, who as a resident of the afterlife, as one who had lived the ancient age alongside him, had watched over Atem for a long time.
Atem caught his breath. When these two were together the atmosphere was calm enough. But there were moments when a strange tension he could not put into words would not be wiped away.
"What's the matter with you two?"
Seto smiled coldly, inwardly. Memories of the living world alone cannot overcome my influence.
That gaze pierced Atem and shook him, as though probing his mind.
"In the living world, you made a promise with the modern-day whelp, did you not. To remain unchanged."
"I did. But I've been myself all along, since three thousand years ago."
"Atem. You are as you are. You have not changed."
Kaiba put his hand on Atem's shoulder, smiling, unable to hide the tension. What he had taught him, and the vow. He would let no one take either.
Deep in his chest, precisely because he knew the thoroughness of Seto's schemes and his advantage in the afterlife, into his resolve was mixed even an impatience he would not normally admit to.
He could not afford to take much time.
Bewildered by the strange tension, Atem was, without knowing it, being shaken by Seto's words.
He felt that the remaining unchanged he had sworn in the living world was, at this moment, being tested.
Seto stepped closer and whispered, low.
"Unchanged… is it."
With his eyes alone he told Kaiba: and yet, so long as he is in this world, that heart can become mine as well.
Kaiba did not look away, and touched Atem's hand lightly. The happiness he had given Atem, the memory, the life, the affection.
"…All of it belongs to Atem himself."
The air of the afterlife was wrapped, as ever, in a freezing tension.
The gazes and the actions of the two of them put Atem's heart on the scales.
Even so, Atem let a faint smile show, and deep in his heart had begun to decide.
He had already begun to notice.
That both of them held him dear. That much he understood. And so.
As the happiness of the living world Kaiba had given him and Seto's influence in the afterlife collided, Atem's heart wavered, and yet was wrapped in the affection of them both.
Atem's room. Kaiba and Atem were in the middle of building their decks.
Atem's heart was turning to Kaiba, certainly. But it was still too early to make it known to Seto as a declaration of victory.
Seto controlled even Atem's schedule, stealing away the hours in which they might meet.
For the moment Kaiba was sweeping the obstructions aside by main force. The contest lasted only as long as he could go on doing so.
If Seto came by accurate information, he would construct an accurate scheme. Seto entering the psychological battle in earnest was something that had to be avoided.
And so Kaiba, so as not to let Atem's feelings be detected, had not laid a hand on him in the afterlife.
Though he noticed the look Atem gave him from time to time, he endured with only the lightest touch.
In fact, inwardly, he was reacting violently.
But he let none of it show. The afterlife was Seto's domain, and there the first strategy was: show the ancient ghost no opening.
The reason was not only to keep information out of Seto's hands.
Answering Atem's desire could itself dismantle the very conditions under which he would be made to choose.
The distance that came near touching and did not touch became frustration, and exactly as Kaiba intended, Atem was driven in the direction of being made to choose.
Kaiba simply received, and held, the faint warmth of Atem's body against his shoulder.
But he did not answer those eyes. Instead he spoke, low, in a restrained voice.
"The afterlife as it is now is not suitable."
At that one line, Atem lost his words.
Kaiba had that silence, too, in his calculations.
To tease, to shake, to drive in, and finally to make him choose himself.
The best move. Flatly, like a machine, go on choosing it.
For that, Kaiba went on choosing, stoically, not to lay a hand on him.
Reading one move ahead was a given; reading ten moves ahead was a given as well. And on top of that the opponent set traps.
But there was a variable Seto did not know.
That was the fait accompli with Atem in the living world. And the fact of which way Atem's heart already leaned.
A battle against an opponent who works by calculation is something like a brawl of numbers. To hold a variable the other does not know is an overwhelming weapon.
The contest had already begun to tilt; the settlement was close. Kaiba was certain of it. But there was no carelessness in him, and no ease.
To Kaiba, the winning line was a thin one.
Keep Atem's heart from being known; throw it at Seto as a variable and break his calculation; look even into the memories of the past life to infer his patterns of obstruction, and blunt the force of his schemes.
And in the meantime, grow Atem's own heart, and make it decisive.
Kaiba could read what Seto was thinking as though it lay in his palm.
A young upstart who knew nothing of the accumulation of blood, running on appetite alone: that was doubtless how he looked. Let him go on thinking so. Let him despise him thoroughly.
He would not hand Atem to a coward bound by history who would not seize anything with his own hands.
But being able to read his thinking did not permit any ease.
He knew Seto's position and experience better than anyone. The overwhelming executive power and power of control he had built up as the king of restoration. A rationality that was violent in its degree.
Precisely because he understood all of it better than anyone, he could not despise him.
The advantage of ground in being in the afterlife, and the physical constraints, could all function as elements of obstruction.
Psychologically, he was aware that he already held the superior position.
But actually to win it, he could not stand about at his leisure.
The situation was not simple enough to be settled by smiling at Atem.
He understood everything, and had calculated it. Even so, faced with the full strength of that opponent, the tension did not disappear, and there was not one moment in which he could relax his hand.
In truth this was an information war, and a brawl of numbers.
To Kaiba it was a collision of logic and variables.
This was a battle he absolutely could not lose.
"Kaiba?"
"…Atem. What is it?"
Draw him into the psychological battle at the optimal moment, and secure complete superiority through the inclination of Atem's heart in as short a period as possible.
Sweeping obstructions aside and slipping past them, Kaiba had to fill Atem from the inside before Seto could enfold him from the outside.
If the battlefield expanded to the physical and environmental constraints within Seto's grasp, and to psychological stability as well, there was no winning line.
In that case it became the long route of having Atem taken once and taking him back. He had no intention of letting go of him, not even for an instant.
Kaiba turned the calculation over in his head. If he were drawn into a long war here, Seto's stabilising power and the advantage of ground in the afterlife would put him at a disadvantage.
So: do not lay a hand on him. Do not touch him. Do nothing superfluous beyond shaking his mind.
If, on top of the psychological battle, it were carried into a war of environment and influence, he was overwhelmingly disadvantaged in endurance.
The card he needed was Atem's unshakable heart. If only this leaned reliably within the limit — until Seto widens the battlefield — everything would fall into his hand.
The fait accompli made in the living world, that touching, the vow: all of it was groundwork laid for that moment.
Kaiba could not let information reach Seto.
Until victory was fixed, seal away appetite and reason alike, keep his guard up, and quietly, perfectly, calculate.
Attending to every breath, every movement of his eyes, Kaiba murmured inwardly. Take Atem's heart. Not some light, merely sweet thing; a heavy resolve. That alone was the sole road to victory.
"You've got an unbelievably grim look on your face. What kind of vicious deck are you building?"
"…I'm assembling cards in preparation for a battle I can't lose."
"You don't have to come at it with everything you've got — though I suppose that's standard operation for you."
Adjusting his deck, Atem shrugged.
Even if he obtained Atem's heart, in the process of obtaining Atem himself, obstructions and stratagems would certainly come. He was not the sort of man to hand him over meekly.
He would use even the wavering of Atem's feelings, laying plans to change the direction of the tilt.
There was even the possibility that he would set about tearing them apart physically. That was precisely the problem that had to be solved beforehand. This was a battle for that as well.
That presence of a man who had once been king, encountered as another person in the flesh, gave Kaiba an impression far more formidable than what he had seen as memory inside himself.
"You, at least — stay as you are."
"I won't change. I swore it, didn't I."
"…So you did."
If he embraced him he would fit into his arms without trouble.
This he would not let be taken. And for that very reason, he could not lay a hand on him yet.
The moment he did, Seto would sense it from Atem's manner.
Should he have finished that one off back when they met by chance in the great hall, Kaiba thought.
The other man had aimed for the heart without hesitating, so it would have been self-defence. The violence of reason. Only to be expected of a man who had skipped negotiation entirely and not balked at assassination.
Whether a dead man could die again was unclear, but pain seemed to exist, so shooting him through might at least have put him permanently out of action.
If Atem had not come, there had been every chance they would have turned a gun and drawn a blade on one another.
A hall in the dim light of the afterlife.
Kaiba and Seto were already glaring at each other, crossing swords of words.
"Why doesn't a ghost do what ghosts do and finally disappear."
"A child would not yet understand. I am one who protects."
Their eyes met with no temperature in them, and neither had any intention of giving a step. The words spat out were cold, but inside they were boiling over.
"The king you tried to protect is standing beside me now."
Kaiba's voice was chill, but to Seto, who held the same feeling, it was audible with a heat impossible to hide.
"However you may boast within a borrowed present world, the truth is here, in the afterlife. My king is a being who joins to my soul. You are no more than a point along the way."
Seto too gave not a step, and returned an unyielding gaze.
"What you are capable of is binding him, and nothing else. I will stand beside him eternally."
"Do not name eternity from within an illusion the length of a blink. A provisional eternity does nothing but lead my king astray."
Behind the collision of the two men's words, the throne stood emptily vacant. And yet what each of them held in view was the figure of the one man who ought to sit in that empty seat.
"Your stability is nothing but a cage. I have the power to give him freedom. Wings."
"You call craving a power? That is mere arrogance. It is not strength."
Their words became sharpened blades and struck against each other, setting the air of the hall shaking.
In the midst of it, at a presence appearing from behind a pillar, both stopped their breath for an instant.
"…Kaiba? …Seto?"
A voice full of confusion and shock, and shaking.
It was Atem.
Atem had, without meaning to, set foot into that place.
On the surface they had behaved calmly, and this exchange was the thing they had kept hidden from Atem. But Kaiba did not stop.
"I have already discarded the margin of error. The remainder is you. By your defeat the figures come out even."
Seto glanced at Atem for an instant, but like Kaiba, he did not stop.
"Calculation is a thing I excel at. You of all men should know it, modern-day whelp."
"Hn. Do as much of it as you like. But what remains at the end of calculation is not a number. It is my will."
Kaiba's eyes flashed sharp.
"Will is a castle built on sand. One gust and it falls away. To guide a king, roots are required."
Seto's voice was unwavering, and carried itself with dignity.
"No such thing is needed. The future is something one seizes. I will draw what lies ahead, together with Atem."
"Arrogant. That is the same thing as taking. Whatever is obtained at the end of craving will be wet with blood in time."
"Let it be wet with blood. If that is the victory I have chosen."
Kaiba took a step forward and laughed through his nose.
Seto did not withdraw either, and returned it with a quiet pressure.
"A child drunk on victory will burn himself away in the end as well. But I am not so. I am the foundation that remains for ever."
"You appear to be under a misapprehension, ghost. Your foundation is your gravestone. I build the future while living."
The two lines of sight collided and scorched the empty air.
Though both thought of the same king, the shapes by which they would lead him would never intersect.
"My king is my bloodline. The bond of the soul. He cannot exist apart from me!"
"Atem is the one I chose. Not blood, not a bond. The one who is chosen is me!"
The voices overlapped, and the empty throne wavered.
Over the existence that ought to sit in that place, the spearpoints of the ancient king and the modern conqueror gave not an inch.
"Stop it… What are you… the two of you… fighting over…"
The voice Atem forced out at last was hoarse, and his back shook with fear.
Deep in his chest, a foreboding he had half-known was taking definite shape.
There was no escaping it now.
Under that pressure, even breathing would not come properly.
Faster than Seto could turn round, Kaiba spoke, sharp.
"Look and you'll understand. It is a battle over you."
At those words Atem's eyes shook wide, and his heart gave a great, jolting beat.
So it was.
"…Over… me…"
Deep in Atem's chest, heat rose rapidly, and then a terrible tightening.
Until now he had received unstinting respect and goodwill from the two of them. But he had been pretending not to notice the "battle" lurking beneath it.
Now it was thrust at him, whether he would or no.
His gaze wandering, Atem had no choice but to understand. That he was being fought over by the two of them.
A shock that would not go into words, and a warmth that struck at his chest past all helping.
Both of them mixed together, and Atem could only stand there where he was.
The shock: it was the shadow of a duty that would arrive in the near future.
The vow exchanged in the living world, the meetings laid one upon another, the days spent together: all of it had raised the heart Atem had already turned toward Kaiba into something still less shakable.
Playing his card, and thrusting at Atem the being fought over he had hidden until now, he had also carried out at the right moment.
To shake his heart, and to arrange it so that he had to choose one of them.
Kaiba concentrated on a vertical breakthrough in the psychological battle, and took it in an extremely short span.
After that, only to crush the enemy at the earliest possible timing.
But it would not do simply to crush him. Kaiba's enemy was Seto.
The next card was a move that would make the opponent withdraw for certain. The one move that could restrict Seto's actions.
But Kaiba himself did not hold it. And so he would use his strongest card to make it played.
A hall in the afterlife. The stillness swallowed even the sound of their breathing.
Kaiba turned a cold gaze on Seto, having already calculated victory inwardly. Everything was as planned. The one variable was Atem's choice. But he had read that probability through as well.
Every card was assembled. Now was the moment to catch him truly.
"We'll settle this, ancient ghost. This is your end."
Seto answered nothing. Not one shade of his expression changed. The same composed face as always.
Against that, Atem, who had been summoned, stood there with an expression that seemed to want to say something and could say nothing.
"Settle it…"
He murmured only that, and let it fall.
Atem, too, understood what it meant, in his head. But his heart had not yet caught up. His heart beat like an alarm bell.
Kaiba, however, gave him no time to quiet it, and let the words go.
"Choose, Atem. Me, or the ancient ghost."
So it was, Atem thought, and pressed his mouth shut, and lowered his eyes a little. Even knowing, to choose it as a piece of work was hard.
But he understood, too, that if he did not choose, this battle would go on for ever.
"…All right. I—"
He cut the words off once.
He had to choose now, at this moment, one of them. Otherwise the two of them would go on fighting for ever.
And besides, the afterlife as it is now was not suitable. The only time they had touched was that one instant of reunion.
He had to choose.
Atem's gaze wandered, and then he made up his mind.
He turned his body toward Kaiba, and told him, low, and certainly.
"…Kaiba. I choose you."
At Kaiba's mouth appeared, faintly, the smile of a thing gone as calculated.
Checkmate.
The psychological battle was taken. Victory was fixed by heart and by will.
The one move that could counter Seto's actions, the last card, was Atem's own unshakable will. And now he had made it played.
Kaiba let the strength go out of his shoulders slightly, but allowed no sweetness into his expression, and looked quietly down at Atem.
"I see. Understood. With this, the fighting ends."
Kaiba reached his arm out to the body in front of him and put a hand round his shoulder.
The fighting ends. Atem let out a breath, let a faint smile show as though relieved, and leaned naturally into Kaiba's arm.
Confirming that warmth, Kaiba thought: the confrontation in the living world, the warmth he had held in his arms, the days of going on giving him the taste of this world, the heart he had grown, the vow of not changing — all of it had taken shape, now, like this.
Seto drew his brows together for an instant, and stepped back in silence. On the surface. But the colour lurking deep in his eyes had not vanished.
He had crushed the enemy, but only in visible action.
Kaiba was conscious of that, and yet for now protecting Atem's heart was the highest priority.
"You don't change. Exactly as you swore."
Atem's smile dissolved quietly into Kaiba's chest.
In this moment, every scheme and every conflict lay covered in the shadow of a sweet happiness.
By Atem's will he had sealed Seto. But Kaiba knew. That Seto would never give up.
Precisely for that reason, this relief was a thing of the briefest while. The battle did not end here. Let his guard down and the possibility of reversal would always be at his heels.
Holding Atem in his arms, Kaiba turned his eyes slightly toward Seto.
"Now you understand, ancient ghost. At present you cannot take Atem's heart."
The voice was quiet, but the pressure contained in it was unmistakable. Not irony, not abuse: a cold-bloodedness that indicated victory in this brawl of numbers.
Seto made a show of letting out a small breath. On the surface he appeared calm, but his gaze was sharp, watching keenly for the next chance to make his move.
Kaiba understood that perfectly well. Show an opening and he would lay a scheme at once and set about taking him.
That was exactly why he had said it in so many words: at present you cannot take Atem's heart. Withdraw for now.
But in that present, Atem's heart was turned toward him.
That alone fixed his superiority for a while.
Seto answered nothing. That was the answer. At present — but in time.
A small exhaled breath, and silence. For Kaiba that was enough to grasp what was inside Seto.
"Take your time. Think it over. For ever."
The mildness of the words, and the implication, unmistakable. The ease of a victor, an eternal warning, vigilance toward the next battle. All of it shown in an instant.
He had taken the heart completely. But Kaiba could not be careless. Seto would never give up.
In this moment, a fine silence and tension were stretched between the three of them.
An afterglow both sweet and terrible slowly filled the hall.
And in the depths of that silence, the unseen possibilities of the future, the course of victory and conflict, and sparks that would never quite die, wavered faintly.
Kaiba walked quietly into the room at night.
"Kaiba…"
He did not miss the way Atem's gaze wavered as though drawn toward him. The eyes opened just slightly; the breathing was faintly disordered.
There was no shade of resistance in it, of course. There was only an earnest affection, and expectation.
"…I've been waiting."
Kaiba's voice was low, and the feeling he had held down seeped into it. At last it was settled. At last he could touch him.
Before Atem could look for words, his arm was pulled and he was held hard.
At the heat and strength of the arms, Atem caught his breath in spite of himself.
"I—"
"I have wanted to do this for a long time."
The same words as that time in the living world, whispered at his ear. An embrace that was in no way rough.
Far from it: gentle enough that he could tell how fiercely he was wanted, and Atem let out a hot breath.
Kaiba lifted his face slowly and looked into Atem's eyes.
"I won't hand you to anyone. Atem. You chose. I won't let you regret it."
There was no hesitation. In the moment their lips met, the cold darkness of the afterlife vanished into the distance, and only the heat of the two of them filled the space around them.
Each time he was touched his body shook, and Atem felt as though his whole body were going hot.
Kaiba's hand slid from Atem's shoulder to his back, drawing him in softly and surely. Each time his fingertips stroked the nape of his neck or his arm, Atem's breathing grew shallow and quick, and small waves rose deep in his chest.
Each time their bodies touched, temperature and heartbeat resonated with each other and their breath crossed.
The sweetness and heat carried through his lips became a sensual language that had no need of words. Kaiba's tongue twined slowly, searching, but reaching surely into the depths of Atem's consciousness.
He closed his eyes and accepted that soft, sweet comfort.
"…Nn."
Even after their lips parted, the air still carried heat. What remained was each other's breathing and body temperature, and the afterglow swelling deep in the chest.
Kaiba did not loosen the strength of the arms wrapped round Atem's back; he tilted his head slightly and observed his expression. Composed as he looked, deep in his heart an excitement was certainly running.
Kaiba's hand slid from the nape of Atem's neck to his chest, and down the line of his waist, drawing out a small shivering breath each time it touched.
Atem's softness in his palm, the heat of his skin, the faintly trembling shoulders. All of it stimulated Kaiba's possessiveness and his love at once.
He slid his hand across his stomach, and when his fingertips teased the centre that was beginning to rise, it shuddered and answered him. That it was no different from the living world made him the dearer, and Kaiba narrowed his eyes.
"Wai— no—"
"Don't lie."
Ignoring his flustering, played with in his hand, Atem lowered his eyes with a hot breath.
The sweet voice that rose from time to time. Each time it did, Kaiba kissed him all over his body.
Kaiba glanced at the perfumed oil that had been placed in the room, then dismissed it from his sight and worked gel over his fingers.
Long fingertips wet with a viscous liquid; at the sight, which he had seen before, Atem's body went rigid and he swallowed hard.
"There's nothing to fear."
Atem nodded slightly, closed his eyes and gave himself over.
Touching the bud, slowly pressed in. In this body it was the first time. As in the living world there was pain, but he knew how to receive it. Atem let out a breath and let the strength go from his body.
As the number of fingers increased, so did the pressure. And he knew that pleasure was born at the same time.
"Ah… Kaiba…"
The thinly opened, wet eyes, the flushed cheeks, the hot breath, the hot body. All of it drove Kaiba on.
"Atem…"
When the tip touched him, Atem closed his eyelids as though enduring the shock of entry.
Even the trembling of those long lashes was dear, and Kaiba, as though drawn to it, kissed him at the eyes.
What sounded from the place where they were joined was not only pleasure. Sweetness, dearness, craving, and the sense of dominion in his being his own.
Gripping his shoulders, violating him to the depths, and yet Kaiba's movements were sweet in a way that made his usual severity seem a lie.
"Ahh… nn… ah… ah."
Atem picked up the pleasure and answered it. When Kaiba took hold of his waist, Atem put his arms round his neck.
The eyes that looked ready to melt, the thinly parted lips, told him something although he had said nothing.
Kaiba read it accurately.
"Understood."
He answered shortly, raised his upper body and lifted Atem up with him. Pressed close, face to face, they joined deeply while they kissed.
Struck just as he let out a breath in relief, Atem shivered finely down his spine.
It was Atem's request, and the position in which he had shown the best response that time he had held him in the living world.
The arms twined round his neck tightened, and holding his waist he rocked him and drove into the deepest place.
Atem's own, caught between them, swayed with the movement, and the fluid seeping from the tip drew a thread between the two of them.
"Ha… nnh…"
Kaiba had already grasped Atem's preferences. If it were only a matter of dropping him into pleasure, he need only pin him down and violate him hard from behind.
But what Atem liked was something in which he could not resist, and yet could see plainly that he was not being taken by force — something in which he could feel safety and trust.
Each time Kaiba moved, Atem shook, put strength into the arms round his neck and clung to him, twisting his body slightly.
"…Ah… no… don't… nn."
"Again with the no. Feel it honestly."
At Kaiba's low whisper with the laugh mixed into it, Atem let out a small breath.
At the rhythm growing gradually fiercer, his consciousness threatened to fly. Unable to think of anything, he cried out and clung unconsciously to Kaiba's body, setting his nails into it.
And in the next moment he buried his face in Kaiba's chest and received that heat with his whole body.
The thick warmth spilling over both their stomachs. Certain proof of pleasure.
Not words: the body answered. The risen breath, the pounding of the heart, conveyed pleasure and safety and trust and the sensation of release, all of it.
The sensation spreading into every corner of his body dissolved reason and thought without fail. What remained was only himself, given over to the whirl of pleasure Kaiba brought him.
"…Not yet…"
Atem let it slip, small, and slumped against Kaiba.
"How would you like it next?"
Still joined, the calibration of the arms that drew him in was exact: no confinement, and yet no room given to escape.
Each time Atem's body touched him, Kaiba tightened his hold a fraction, drawing all of Atem to him.
"However… you like…"
Hearing it, Kaiba laid Atem's body gently down and pinned him to the bed with their fingers laced. Deprived of any means of resistance, and yet a joining with a certain warmth in it. This, too, was a position Atem liked.
In place of announcing a second time, he kissed him deeply.
The pounding of the chest, the heat running over his cheeks, the sensation like a current in his fingertips. All of it became one, and the world overflowed with time belonging to the two of them alone.
The low, soft whisper breathed at his ear was neither an order nor a seduction; only a confirmation that told him, you are here.
Atem answered it, and gave himself over to Kaiba completely, body and heart.
The arms that caught him so that he could not resist, the hips driving against him, the hot gaze glimpsed through the sweat-damp, slightly disordered fringe. Violated by all of it, a body drowning in pleasure.
The heat strengthening moment by moment and the waves of sweetness dissolved the boundary between heart and body. Kaiba's dominion and the pleasure whirled together and shut Atem perfectly inside a world belonging to the two of them.
And in the interval where everything stopped, Atem murmured, small but certainly, from the bottom of his heart.
"…I want to be here."
It was Kaiba who led the scene and moved it. But inwardly, he was feeling, with pleasure, whose that sensation came from.
The feeling shaking deep in his chest Kaiba held down quietly, and enjoyed.
To Kaiba this was not a mere act of lust. It was an act of confirming Atem's heart and body as an extension of the "memory of being alive" he had given him in the living world, of making his future heart rock-solid, of protecting him.
And that quiet hour of night spun out a secret happiness belonging to the two of them.
Sweet, quiet, and never leaking outside: a special little while.
Morning light came in and lit the room thinly.
Atem rubbed his still-sleepy eyes and looked up at Kaiba, a little embarrassed.
"Atem. Do you remember last night?"
Kaiba's voice was soft, but tinted with a strong colour of relief.
Atem nodded slightly and smiled.
"Mm… though some of my memory's gone missing again. You overdo it every single time."
Kaiba put his arms round the body that came clinging to him as though spoiled, and took firm hold of it.
"If I'm wanted that much, I answer…"
Kaiba laughed a little.
"…It's that I felt safe, somehow. You did all that so suddenly in the living world, and then once I came over here you never— so I just."
He stroked the head of Atem, who had gone slightly red and whose eyes were wandering, and drew him in.
"I see."
"But why, until now…?"
At the questioning voice, Kaiba only smiled.
That smile was gentle, as though everything in the world were being protected, but behind it lurked calculation. Atem would never notice.
Kaiba's hurrying of the relationship in the living world had also been in preparation for the battle with Seto.
His strongest trump card: the fait accompli.
Make the fait accompli, grow the feeling, make him swear not to change. All to keep the direction of Atem's heart turned toward Kaiba.
Aware of Atem's frustration, he had used even that to shake him, keeping his heart and his eyes turned his way.
Reach into the depths of the heart and fill him from within, before he could be enfolded from without. And bring him to a state in which he could not be satisfied without him.
Filling the heart is hard to see from outside, but for that very reason it easily becomes a variable, and once it succeeds, recapture is close to impossible.
It connects directly to Atem's will and feelings, and once it takes effect it does not waver: a move as fierce as dependency, as addiction.
Even if Seto appeared, the psychological inclination of Atem's heart toward Kaiba would keep Seto from shaking him as he intended, and would break his calculation. And Kaiba would not let him work out the reason. Not laying a hand on him had been for that as well.
Further, it worked to give Atem the feeling that he could not betray him.
That was psychological restraint.
Kaiba used his strongest trump card, and obtained this last card.
All of it was groundwork laid so that Atem's own unshakable will could be obtained as the strongest and last card, so that he would choose Kaiba, and so that the final move would be made played.
That was how it should have been. But in the moment he actually held him in the living world, reason alone did not cover it. Appetite showed its face, and it fused with reason. It was within his expectations, but beyond his imagining.
The moment he touched him, he did not want to let go. It could no longer be only for the sake of reason.
In an ordinary man, reason and appetite stand opposed and drag each other down.
But Kaiba was not ordinary. That time he held Atem, appetite meshed with the gears of reason.
I want him — but that is no more than an extension of reason. So he recognised it. Appetite became, rather, fuel that accelerated reason.
That night, a strategy that ought to have been cool took on heat, and became something no one could stop.
"I knew what that one was thinking. I knew it would come to a fight. That's why. Until you chose one of us, and it was settled—"
Kaiba cut his words off there. That he had never intended to wait, that being obliged to wait had been against his will: those were not things to convey.
But at those words, Atem felt, for an instant, a tightening deep in his chest.
The conversation in the living world rose in his mind.
"So this is what you meant by intending to settle it."
"This is the largest battle."
"…He's been waiting all this time too, hasn't he."
Kaiba's fingertips stroked Atem's hair gently.
"Rest easy. You're mine now."
At the sweet whisper, Atem's heart was taken.
But behind it, Kaiba's intent lay within calculation.
In the low voice, reason and appetite twined together, and a gaze both composed and heated was poured over Atem.
Kaiba looked at Atem, and drew his body gently in.
Cold-blooded eyes of reason, and hands of heated appetite.
Something in Atem shivered.
Held in Kaiba's arms, deep in his chest, Atem was wrapped in relief and a quiet heat, and could not move.
Thinking calmly, it was obvious that Kaiba had been after him ever since that night in the living world.
And now, in this moment, everything fell into place. His heart shook at a reality that was terribly sweet.
"…You were waiting too, weren't you. All that time, until I chose."
You too.
Atem's voice, his cheeks a little coloured, was small.
But to that small voice Kaiba returned not so much as a smile; he only made his arms firm. That alone conveyed the thought: you are mine.
Atem thinks that it was because he himself had not chosen that no hand was laid on him.
In fact it was to hide the variable against Seto, the strongest trump card. But Kaiba would use even that misunderstanding. To go on binding his heart from here as well.
What Kaiba took for victory was the psychological battle, by vertical breakthrough. That heart could not be made to waver.
"I have no intention of handing you to anyone. And for that, I will simply fight by whatever means I must."
The low voice remained in the room, and wrapped Atem in a force that mixed both reason and appetite.
Atem was pushed by that feeling, and noticed that somewhere in himself he was relieved.
That the surprise when he was touched in the living world, and the frustration of the period in the afterlife when they never touched, had all of it existed for this present moment.
"It's all right. I trust you. So you trust me too."
At Atem's words Kaiba said nothing, and only raised an eyebrow faintly.
That was enough.
Words were not needed, nor logic.
Everything was proved within these arms, in the reality before his eyes.
The air flowing between the two of them was quiet, and deep, and sweet, and heavy.
Reason and appetite twined together; a dense stretch of time as though outside the world.
Neither compromising, each giving to the other everything, loving each other, acknowledging each other.
"I trust you. Stay unchanged, from here on as well."
"Mm. I will never change."
The clamour of the outside world, and Seto's shadow, do not reach this room.
This branch ends here.
Chapter 6 exists in two versions, and this was one of them. The other is 6b — The Net of Time, which begins from the same point in Chapter 5 and goes somewhere else entirely, continuing into Chapter 7 and then into one of three endings.
Neither is the "true" branch. If you have read this one, the other is still waiting.
