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The dust whipped through the air like golden tornados as the last of the monsters disappeared. The battle had ended, leaving Seto satisfied, then quickly hungry for more.
The Pharaoh’s cocky smile didn’t help that desire. He wanted to do it again if only for another chance to prove himself worthy. He had won, a few times, to both pleasured shock and respectful admiration, and still Kaiba wanted to do it again.
And again.
And again.
As many times as it took to see the Pharaoh smile at him once more.
“That was an admirable game,” Atem said from across the hall, his voice bounced off the stone walls that were both ancient and new. “I thought for sure you had me with your facedown card.”
“Hn, don’t patronize me, Pharaoh. It wasn’t as if I couldn’t defeat you if I gave it my all.”
Atem’s smile softened, then warmed. The banter was half the excitement of coming back to fight him. Kaiba had visited many times over the past year, always to a delighted Pharaoh that easily left this throne to meet Seto half way.
“I’ll prove to you my worth,” Kaiba rattled again and lift his duel disk, poised for battle. As always, they aimed for best three out of five.
To his surprise, Atem didn’t return the gesture. His arm lowered, fist to his hip that jutted forward, his other arm loose and casual.
Kaiba frowned, then glared at this. Was their session over already? He could only visit once ever few weeks or risk straining his body too far. The Pharaoh knew this, and knew there was little reason to hesitate when there were epic games to play.
When Seto finally lowered his arm, brushing away the blue floating lights that mixed with the desert dust did Atem finally speak. Even from across the hall he held out his hand, palm up. “Come walk with me.”
Seto didn’t move, his feet firmly planted onto the flagstones. His heart, however, beat hard into his throat.
“Please,” Atem went on conversationally, sounding more like the man that belonged on the throne behind him. “We battle too often here, and I see the sweat forming with that heavy coat. A change of scenery and a cool breeze—”
“Are you trying to show off your palace?” Kaiba asked flatly.
Atem’s smile turned to a saucy smirk, his chin lifted just so. “I won’t lie to you, Kaiba, therefore I won’t answer that particular question.”
Kaiba answered with a ‘hn’ and a smirk of his own.
Kaiba would be lying if he hadn’t had the itch to see more of the Pharaoh’s kingdom. Every time he came he went directly to the throne room where they dueled until Kaiba’s time ran short on his ability to stay. Therefore, he took his time walking across the throne room, his boots clacking against the finely kept stone floor until Atem had to peer up at him to see his face.
Seto watched him carefully, noting the shift in color in his eyes from amber to violet depending on the light, how his thick lashes left a fan-like shadow over his bronze cheeks. Kaiba had not been close to him since he died. They were always screaming across the throne room between monsters and kicked up dust and specs of blue energy.
“Do you trust me?” the Pharaoh said, offering his hand yet again.
“What?” Kaiba grunt, unsure what this was all about.
“Do you trust me?” Atem repeated, that smirk from before ten times more dazzling up close.
His lips looked soft…
He didn’t dive head first into the afterlife to deny the heartbeat that was thumping in his ears, so he reached out and took the outstretched hand. His fingers curled around Atem’s, and he felt the cool metal of the Pharaoh’s rings.
White teeth peaked out from behind those lips, and Kaiba had a sudden feeling of dread, as if Atem had just pulled a trap card on him. The ground dropped from under his feet, and it felt like a hook tugged at his belly button. The world spun like the animation of a fusion card.
Luckily, the whirlwind of colors and lights vanished almost as quickly as it began, and Kaiba heard the Pharaoh let out a sigh of relief. “It worked!”
It worked?! As if the Pharaoh didn’t know if it would or not!?
“I trusted you!” Seto yelled, his knees wobbled as gravity took control again and he could feel a ground under his feet.
Atem merely chuckled, and Kaiba would have decked him in the face if his hand weren’t still tucked within his still.
The light of the Pharaoh’s crown caught his eye before Kaiba realized they were outside. They were still in Egypt, or an afterlife equivalent thereof, but outside the palace. It was difficult to distinguish at first, as all around them great stone pillars grew from the ground like umber and khaki weeds, draped in twisting vines, green with white flowers.
The ground was a mosaic of patterns, different colored stones and hidden gems of turquoise to accent. Gardens littered the private space, carved out from tiers in the walls and the ground, blooming with ferns and bright, tropical flowers. Kaiba turned to see water trickling down a curved wall, so clean it made he mouth water. It puddled into a pool-sized fountain, making the blue skies above jealous.
Kaiba wasn’t certain why they were here, but he couldn’t deny it was a far more impressive beauty than the already impressive throne room. He finally looked to Atem, who had yet to let go of his hand.
“What do you think?”
“A bit over the top,” Kaiba huffed.
Atem merely laughed and picked a red flower from a bed beside him and slipped it behind his own ear. “I had been working on it for awhile.”
“You did all of this?” Seto never took the Pharaoh for a gardener, but the light in Atem’s eyes made him think that this was more than merely digging in the dirt. “Magic,” he concluded to Atem’s eager nod.
“The throne room is shared space. My garden is all my own,” Atem said and began to walk still holding his hand.
Seto hoped his hand wasn’t sweating, although the breeze here was nice.
Kaiba couldn’t help but be curious. “Do all dead have a garden?”
“Everyone has their own space,” he answered. “You will, too, someday.”
“I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.”
Atem looked up at him and Kaiba saw the sun smiling. Fingers tightened around Kaiba’s hand, and his heart felt as if it were going to burst. “I’m glad. You have a lot of people depending on you.”
Kaiba didn’t answer. Instead, in let the Pharaoh lead him by his hand through a winding path that was shaded by bending palms, creating a tunnel so thick and lush it turned the sunlight green. When they came out the other end, the garden beds danced up the pillars. Vines and flowers hung between walls and trees like festival lanterns and the ponds were full of lotus flowers that bloomed a vibrant blue and smelled like the ocean.
“I didn’t know you were into gardening.”
Atem shrugged one shoulder. “I was trapped in darkness and stone for a long time where nothing bloomed but dread and despair.”
“Bit morbid.”
Another laugh, following the sound of birds twittering in a nearby tree. Seto turned to see them and saw a white peacock walking across a wall. He looked up through the high trees. The sky was blue, the clouds soft, yet he couldn’t find the sun. Nothing blinded him or forced him to shield his eyes.
A pagoda sat in the middle of a pond draped in gauzy fabrics, carpeted with colorful rugs and pillows for lounging.
“There isn’t enough room here to duel,” Kaiba observed as they walked the stone bridge to the pagoda. Kaiba half expected to see a harem of women to be lounging in it with oils and wine and food. The Pharaoh had none, however, and sat among the embroidered pillows.
“Are you certain?” Atem asked, arms spread along the cushions, legs long against the rugs; a lounge of a king in his palace.
The world around them dimmed, and the sky moved from blue to deep violet. Stars danced above like fireflies and the white flowers that crawled on every surface twinkled like fairies.
Kaiba sat down, stiffly, cross legged near Atem and realized they had stopped holding hands to sit. His hand was in his lap and he peered down at it as if it betrayed him. But then it was there again, a bronze hand, small yet strong, placed right in his.
Kaiba watched his own fingers curl around that hand protectively.
When he looked up again, Atem appeared earnest and sad. “I cannot keep you.”
“Not yet,” Seto agreed.
Atem knelt up on his knees before Seto, his smile soft, his eyes an enigma of emotions that Kaiba couldn’t quite follow. The Pharaoh’s free hand reached out and cupped his rival’s cheek.
This was strange and so out of place for them, Seto wasn’t exactly sure what to do. All he knew was that it felt right to lean into the hand, to drink in the scent splashed against his skin, to press his lips against a wandering thumb.
“Seto,” the Pharaoh nearly sang on a sigh, and Kaiba replied; “Yes.”
The kiss that was years in the making—one that transcended time and death itself—was gentle, and sweet, and maybe a little awkward as two rivals went from the battlefield to a secret garden.