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The original plan was not to spend his New Year’s holiday in New York. With Mokuba running the show in Kaiba Land California nearly full-time, Seto didn’t feel the need to stay for any longer than necessary—KC employees across the globe received time off for the New Year and he had planned on taking off for the warmer weather on the west coast. But a snow storm delayed his plans again, and again, until it was too late for him to arrive at a reasonable time. Seto considered flying the jet out to San Francisco himself to save some time, but Mokuba talked him out of it. He suspects Isono is grateful that cooler heads prevailed for once. But that leaves him alone in New York, unfortunately, and while he has no real issue with staying home for the night, the city has other plans for him.
You shouldn’t spend New Year’s alone! Come to our party tonight, the message read, received that afternoon after he and Mokuba agreed that it was best that he not make the flight in this weather. Seto suspects his brother’s hand in this—how else would Mazaki know he was in town? Interminable meeting after meeting has kept him from scheduling their usual dinner-and-drinks routine this time, much to the disappointment of the online rumor mill that loves to relentlessly discuss Seto Kaiba’s mysterious New York companion when given the opportunity.
But late evening indeed sees him bundled up in a wool coat and standing on the front step of her building, two unopened bottles from Gozaburo’s high-end whiskey stash in hand, and fiddling with the intercom. The storm has loosened its grip enough that people are still walking on the street, heading to their own parties and gatherings. Some are even starting the party on the sidewalks.
By the time he makes it up the three narrow flights of stairs, he can hear the noise from the party on the other side of the wall. Mazaki cheerfully greets him at the door, a tinsel crown completing her sparkling silver outfit.
The rest of her guests are her friends from university, and not-so-surprisingly, Yugi Mutou. Seto doesn’t deliberately avoid him, but they nod at each other briefly. He can’t help but feel it might be a breach of work-life separation norms to have to make unexpected small talk with your boss at your girlfriend’s New Year’s party when you’re both technically off the clock.
Mazaki steers him towards the kitchen after the perfunctory greetings have been completed, arm looped around his, under the pretense of getting him a drink. Seto watches with a furrowed brow when she completely ignores the bottles on the counter, including his own expensive contribution, to stick her head out the open window instead. “Atem, do you want to make room? Our surprise guest is here. You’ll want to see him.”
What?
He doesn’t hear the response, but it must be positive, because Mazaki pulls him toward the window and gestures at it impatiently before she slips away, back to the party. Subtle.
When Seto sticks his head out, he can see Atem sitting on the fire escape ladder, looking as startled as he himself feels.
“Kaiba,” Atem starts, then pauses. They stare at each other for too long before Atem breaks the awkward silence. “I didn’t know you were in town.”
He didn’t know Atem was here either. If he’d known… he can’t decide if he would’ve stayed away or if he would’ve been Mazaki’s first guest at the door. “I didn’t expect to be. I was supposed to join Mokuba at Kaiba Land.” Seto finds himself climbing out of the window, testing the slippery steel before he lets it carry his full weight. Atem scoots over, so he accepts the unspoken invitation. It’s a tight fit, the two of them pressed up against each other awkwardly, Seto’s long legs stretching out in front of him while Atem pulls his knees closer to his chest.
“He’s doing well, then?”
“Thriving,” Seto admits, with the ghost of a proud smile. He’d been concerned, of course, that Mokuba didn’t want to even try university, despite graduating with honors at his young age, and wanted to jump into KaibaCorp operations immediately. Was Mokuba doing this to be just like his big brother? Or was this truly where his interests lay? But the transition to the theme parks division has been good for him, and the semi-permanent move to California even better. A taste of normalcy, outside the Domino bubble, has given Mokuba confidence in himself and a life away from the struggles of their childhood. Seto sometimes envies him his freedom, even if this is what he’s worked for his entire life. He couldn’t have it, but Mokuba can, so it’s worth it.
Atem nods. “I’m sure you’re proud of him.” For someone who vocally disdains the cold weather, he seems comfortable enough out here, bundled up in a red scarf and a black puffer coat.
Seto remembers giving him that scarf.
It was an unseasonably cold spring in Domino, shortly after their successful return from Aaru, and Atem was complaining bitterly about the March snow flurries and winds. The scarf itself was a gift from years ago, never worn. Red isn’t his color. Seto doesn’t even remember who gave it to him. It seemed fitting for the returning pharaoh, though. He hadn’t expected it to survive the adventures Atem had since he left Domino.
“Mazaki didn’t tell me you’d be here.” He’s trying not to make it an accusation, but it still comes out like one. “Last I heard, you were still in Paris.” That was a tidbit of gossip from Isis, freely given when they last met at the Domino Museum’s annual gala, because she knew that Seto would never outright ask.
If Seto’s knowledge of his whereabouts surprises Atem, he doesn’t show it. Maybe he thinks Seto has tracking systems on him—not that he’d be wrong, but he’s also made an effort not to check them as often as he could. Progress, really. “I’m thinking about heading home,” he says with a shrug instead. “I miss Domino. It would be nice to see Yugi’s grandfather again. To spend more time with everyone.”
“I’m going back at the end of January.” Seto has no idea what’s possessing him to make the offer, but it spills out his mouth before he can even think to stop himself. Unfortunately, Atem’s presence has always caused him to say foolish things, and half of those things were broadcast on live television. He doesn’t even have a drink in hand to blame. “Come back with me. On the jet.”
Atem seems just as surprised to have received the offer as Seto is to have made it in the first place. “That’s kind of you… but you really don’t have to…”
“I know I don’t,” Seto scoffs. Of course he doesn’t have to. He and Atem have no true obligations to each other. Ultimately, none of it—their ancient past, Aaru, coming back to the present together—means anything.
But he wants to.
And who in their right mind would turn down a private fifteen-hour flight in favor of flying economy?
He watches Atem watch him, using every ounce of self-control he’s learned over his lifetime to keep his expression as neutral as possible. “Okay, then,” Atem decides. “I’ll have to ask Anzu if I can stay longer—“
“My penthouse has four guest bedrooms, not including the main suite and my home office. Take your pick.” It’s not boasting if it’s true , right? Besides, Atem has seen the mansion, and the penthouse is practically a studio apartment in comparison.
A raised, skeptical brow is all the reaction he gets from his once-rival. “You really don’t have to.”
“Please, it’s not like we haven’t lived together before.” Perhaps that was stretching the definition, but Seto refuses to forget the three months Atem spent living in the mansion while he set up an entire life for him. Medical check-ups, vaccines, documentation and birth certificates, everything he’d need to become a Japanese citizen and hold the most powerful passport in the world. Atem had offered to go back to Yugi’s little apartment above the game shop, but Seto wanted to keep a close eye on him while he acclimated to his new life and body. “You’ll basically have the whole place to yourself anyway. The business of KaibaCorp doesn’t stop even when I’m in a different country. I’ll be out most of the time.”
It all makes logical sense to him. He clearly has the room to host Atem for four more weeks, while Mazaki has two other roommates from her university dance troupe. The ladies are sweet, in their own way, but adding another person in their cramped apartment for a month is asking too much. There’s no reason why Atem should suddenly gaze at him with such a soft look in his eyes.
“But it’s stopped now? You’re freezing out here on a fire escape with me rather than holed up in your office.”
Seto frowns. “It’s New Year’s.” Obviously. Shouldn’t that explain everything? Even the Kaiba Corporation paid homage to the oldest and grandest traditions of time off for the New Year.
“I never took you as one for tradition,” Atem admits when Seto’s words sink in. “You’re always… well. You might have hated my speeches about destiny, but I always rolled my eyes at your speeches about the future.”
Seto doesn’t care, not really. Not anymore. He and Atem were melodramatic, over -dramatic teenagers with gargantuan chips on their shoulders. Atem’s said much worse to his face during Battle City, and they’re several years removed from that now. “Why not celebrate the beginning of a new year? A fresh start, unbeholden to anything or anyone from your past?” He does catch Atem rolling his eyes this time, and he can’t help his smirk.
“All right,” Atem laughs when he realizes he’s been caught. “I see now. It’s just funny that you adhere to the past in some ways, but refuse to acknowledge it otherwise.”
“I don’t hate the past.” Not anymore, at least. Time heals all wounds, eventually. “But why keep yourself chained to it? What happened thousands of years ago doesn’t dictate what I’ll do tomorrow morning or next week, or next year, or for the rest of my life. That’s my problem with the Millennium Items, and Isis and her nonsense with the necklace, and with leaving you in your afterlife just so you could relive your past in a bad simulation of ancient Egypt. None of that should matter. You deserved to live .”
Atem tugs his jacket closer around himself when the wind picks up briefly. “I didn’t realize I became a project for you when I was…gone.”
“It was a good chance to test out the new Duel Disk prototypes.” Seto says with a shrug. He’s rewarded with another warm laugh from Atem. He’s missed it.
“It all comes back around, doesn’t it? You asked Yugi to try out the original Duel Disk prototypes at Duelist Kingdom too...” Atem falls silent for a moment. “Thank you for not giving up on me. I don’t think I’ve ever said that.”
You’re welcome seems churlish, I didn’t do it for you is a blatant lie, and whatever Jounouchi Katsuya thinks of him, Seto does try to be honest in all his dealings. Underhanded lies are for the likes of his adoptive father. He settles for a quiet hum, acknowledging the sentiment and letting that hang in the air. It helps that the party is raging inside, from what he can hear drifting through the open window that he climbed through earlier. But Atem shows no signs of wanting to go back in to join his friends, or even to warm up in the kitchen, so they stay seated in a comfortable silence, sharing the same rung on the ladder, even when the countdown begins inside, and out on the street, and all around them.
“It’s midnight,” Seto says when he sees sparklers streaking upwards through the sky. Kaiba Land’s New Year’s celebrations are still three hours away. The park must be packed with guests. Mokuba might be in the park with them, or maybe up in the executive building just outside park boundaries, watching the festivities with his own circle of friends.
On cue, his phone vibrates in his back pocket, his watch mimicking a beat later. Seto catches a glimpse of the notification flashing on his wrist: Mokuba, chiming in to wish him a happy east coast new year’s, big bro. You better be at Anzu’s party and you better not be working!
He’ll reply later, because Atem is watching the impromptu fireworks display and Seto is loath to disturb this delicate truce between them.
“I’m sure the Kaiba Land ones are more impressive,” Atem says in a brief lull between glittering explosions and distant cheers.
They are. But Seto has a feeling Atem isn’t actually interested in talking about pyrotechnics. “Let Mokuba know when you’re nearby next time. He’ll show you around.”
“But not you?”
Seto shrugs. “I’ll clear the time from my schedule if you want. But I’m in Domino more often than not. Theme park ops are in Santa Cruz and that’s Mokuba’s division now.”
“I think Mokuba’s great,” Atem begins, fiddling with the end of his scarf before he looks at Seto again. The steely determination on his face is reminiscent of long-ago days spent on opposite sides of a duel. “But he’s not the Kaiba brother I was hoping to spend time with.”
“Tired of traveling the world? Sleeping in hostels?”
Atem smiles wryly and ignores his weak attempt at humor. “I was lost. I hadn’t planned for this life. For a life outside Aaru. I didn’t know what I wanted… it wouldn’t have been fair to you, after everything you’ve done for me... I wouldn’t have given you the answer you wanted and I wouldn’t have meant it either.”
“I wasn’t aware I asked a question.” But of course he had, unspoken it might have been when Atem decided it was time to leave Domino to find himself in this new world. And Atem leaving Domino, leaving him , had been enough of an answer for Seto then.
Atem sighs, exasperated. “I forgot that you wouldn’t make this easy on me.” And before Seto can reply ( of course it’s not easy, it’s us ) , Atem’s fingers are on his cheeks, and Atem’s lips are on his, cold and chapped but warming up quickly.
When they break apart, a firework explodes over the neighborhood several blocks away. Seto can’t explain it, but he can feel the sparkles in his veins. At some point, his hands have found their way around Atem’s waist. His heart is pounding in his ears, but Atem looks unbothered, so Seto will have to be as well.
“The tradition is to kiss at midnight, not…” he lets go, briefly, so he can glance at his watch, ignoring Atem’s huff of laughter, “seven minutes after midnight.”
It bodes well, though, that they haven’t let go of each other yet. “You enjoy breaking traditions, though.” Atem’s lips are warm against his again, stealing away his reply before he can argue back. He can feel the upward curve of his smile. “Happy new year, Seto.”