Spirit of the Dead

ElveNDestiNy

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! No copyright infringement intended.

Key:

-Yugi to Yami-

-Yami to Yugi—

Chapter 6: Alone Together

There was something stroking his hair, fingers running through the spiky but soft strands. But it felt strange, since it didn't feel like Yugi, exactly, and Yugi was the only one able to touch him. Even then, touching was only possible in their soul rooms. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed that basic human connection until now. It felt good, although he almost felt that he was being petted, and things were comfortably warm. It was also odd; there was a sense of movement but it was surely too smooth, and his head was resting against something warm and solid, too.

The hand in his hair ceased its motions and Yami was forced to open one tired, bleary eye to see what the matter was. He found fine white fabric beneath his cheek and with a grumble, opened the other eye. Where was Yugi? Come to think of it, he didn't notice Yugi's familiar vanilla-like scent, either.

Gradually he realized the soft, even breathing he heard was not his own. Lifting his head so that the limp hand fell away, Yami choked back a gasp of surprise.

"K-Kaiba?" Thankfully the brunette didn't wake to his incredulous query. Yami leaned closer and peered cautiously at his once rival's face. Sleeping, Kaiba looked alarmingly defenseless and human, not cold or proud as he was when awake. Sometimes it was hard to remember that he was only a teenager like themselves, when he had so much authority and money at his disposal, and especially since he never acted his actual age. Yami was startled to see that asleep, Kaiba seemed much less intimidating and didn't provoke the usual mix of aggravation in Yami that he did when awake.

At first, he thought the weight on his hip was the result of a seat belt like the one he had worn on the earlier flight with Yugi. It took a moment for Yami to realize incredulously that Kaiba's other hand was on his hip, and that was because his arm was wrapped loosely around Yami's waist. When he did, Yami turned an interesting shade of red that he was glad no one was around to see. What was Kaiba thinking?

After a few moments of thinking, Yami gingerly took Kaiba's hand in his own, trying to move it off him, all along acutely aware about how terrible it would be if Kaiba woke up and saw their current position—never mind that it was almost certainly his fault in the first place, since he'd been the one moving around in his sleep. It was hard for Yami to even breathe normally; he was so close to Kaiba as to be able to hear his heartbeat, and he couldn't deny that the whole experience was sending tiny thrills of something—alarm, but it was just possible that it was delight as well—through his body.

Still wrong for them to be like this, of course, but since Kaiba was resisting all movement in his sleep, Yami had little choice. Deciding that it was absolutely not a good idea to use Kaiba as a pillow, at the very least, Yami carefully raised his head.

"Mmngh," Kaiba mumbled, nearly stopping Yami's heart. The arm wrapped loosely around Yami's waist was suddenly exerting considerably more pressure than before, and Kaiba's hand cupped the curve of Yami's hip. Yami froze, but it was too late.

Kaiba blinked a few times before he looked down questioningly at the aberrational weight on his chest, finding himself almost nose to nose with Yami. A brief silence ensued, as Yami forgot what it meant to breathe.

"Feeling better?" Kaiba murmured, as Yami waited for some kind of reaction and for the disentanglement of their limbs. At the question, alarm spurred Yami's limbs at last. He jerked up, accidentally hitting his head on Kaiba's chin, and almost tumbled out of his seat entirely as he scrambled to put some distance between them. Why was he always so clumsy around Kaiba?

After a moment, Kaiba retrieved his arm, carefully not touching Yami any more than he already had, and making a pretense of looking at his watch. There was no further comment on how they had ended up together, though Yami imagined that the blue eyes that finally met his were a little colder than normal. Surely it was only his imagination.

He tried to ignore the vague feeling of guilt Kaiba's eyes mysteriously induced, and then tried even harder to ignore the awkward silence between them. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the most bizarre look he'd yet seen to grace Kaiba's normally expressionless countenance, something he could only describe as perplexity.

"Mr. Kaiba?" Yami looked around wildly before realizing that they were hearing the pilot's voice, and then wondered how foolish he must have looked in Kaiba. Thankfully, Kaiba's attention didn't seem to have been on him. "We'll be landing at the Domino International Airport shortly. Are there any arrangements to be made?"

"Arrange for a car to bring us to the Domino City Museum," Kaiba said brusquely.

"M-Mr. Kaiba. It is currently 2:21 in the morning and the museum will be closed." It seemed very difficult for the pilot to point out that very obvious fact. Yami turned curious crimson eyes to Kaiba, wondering what he was going to do, especially since he didn't seem to be in the best of tempers.

"Get me the number of one of the museum curators. Her name is Isis Ishtar and she is the Secretary General of the Egyptian Supreme Council of Antiquities. I want her personal number, understand?"

"Yes, Mr. Kaiba."

"I want it before we arrive."

"We'll do our best," was the anxious answer.

Yami turned to Kaiba, intending to ask what they were going to do but also a little wary of disturbing the brunette. He closed his mouth abruptly when glacial eyes turned to inspect him as dispassionately as a scientist examining a special insect.

"I want Isis to use her contacts to try to trace the mummy, and I should be able to access my databases using the museum's computer system. Whoever took the mummy must have left a record of some kind, especially if they sold it on the black market." His voice softened a little at the horror in Yami's expression. "There's a good chance we can get it back, especially since whoever it was obviously wanted only the mummy. After that, we can decide what to do."

"What about the Curse of the Pharaoh?" Yami asked hesitantly. "You have all been inside of the tomb as well…and the first person died soon after. 'Death shall slay on wings of light…' The curses were designed to act swiftly to stop the robbers before they got very far or could benefit in any way from their vile actions."

"We can't do much about it," Kaiba pointed out. Yami still looked worried, a fact that seemed to soothe his temper. "Yami, I won't ever fight you, you know that?"

"What?" It seemed like such a sudden pledge, serious and formal, and Yami didn't quite know how to take it. He had always fought Kaiba. They had always been rivals, and Kaiba would have been the last person he would have expected to back off. For some reason the thought that he was giving up their rivalry made Yami feel something akin to the sensation of abandonment. "Kaiba, what do you mean?"

"Remember what Shadi showed us? He implied that everything in the past will happen again, and that we have to help each other now. He also said I have to learn who I really am."

Yami's expression carefully concealed his emotions. "I thought you never believed any of it."

"It's a bit late for belief, don't you think," Kaiba said with a tone of irony, "when people are dying?" He leaned closer to Yami, who fought not to fidget at the invasion of his space, and then closer still. For a moment Yami almost expected…what, he wasn't sure, but definitely something out of the ordinary.

"What was I to you, Yami? Or should I call you…Atem?"

Speechless, Yami could only look into those stunningly blue eyes, which forced him to admit to himself the truth. He had never expected Kaiba to come to this point, to confront him about the few vague memories he did have.

"Because I've been having…dreams," Kaiba continued slowly, watching him, and Yami wondered how he could have ever thought Kaiba's eyes were cold. He breathed shallowly, and licked his lips out of nervousness, then felt heat rise to his face when he realized the taller duelist was watching his every movement.

"That's all in the past," Yami managed. Kaiba was so close and he couldn't seem to think at all, beyond how much he wanted… "It doesn't matter—"

He found himself utterly silenced when Seto Kaiba leaned over and kissed him.

It was merely the slightest brush of lips at first, but as Yami recovered from his surprise and hesitantly kissed back, it shifted into something deeper. His eyes closed in pleasure and Yami all but melted into the brunette's embrace.

It seemed like a long while before Seto finally pulled away, his eyes still locked with Yami's, whose gaze was heavy-lidded, almost looking like a particularly satisfied royal Egyptian cat. Even cuddled up next to Seto and looking almost languid with desire, he retained some air of dignity that made him all the more irresistible.

Neither spoke, as if words would ruin the moment. What could two such proud individuals say, when they had finally stopped fighting and started kissing? Perhaps no words were even needed, only the kind of nonverbal acknowledgement that had always been between them. It was something that had been waiting to happen for so long that neither wanted to think too much about it, to ponder exactly why and how, for fear of making it something complicated—too complicated to survive this unexpected and delicate beginning.

Yami was content to rest his head on Kaiba's shoulder, in a position similar to how they had woken up, and found to his slight surprise—but growing feeling that this was exactly as it should be—that he enjoyed it immensely. Such a simple thing, really, but he wanted Kaiba by his side in this situation, just as Kaiba had seemingly always been there to see him rage and cry, worry and celebrate.

"Set-o Kai-ba," he tried experimentally, distinctively separating the syllables, and then, simply, as he never had before, "Seto." He didn't miss the sudden flash of gratification in normally unemotional eyes. Arms tightened around him briefly at the helicopter's descent, as if aware of the momentary trepidation Yami felt at the unreliability and strangeness of the technology around them.

"Mr. Kaiba, Miss Ishtar has been contacted and has consented to receive your call, if you wish to speak with her," the voice of the pilot interrupted. Kaiba took out something that looked vaguely like a headset, put it on, and pressed a button to the side of it.

"Isis," Kaiba said without preamble or formalities. "I want to know where Yami's mummy is."

"What makes you think I know?" Yami heard faintly, the voice smooth and rich, despite a slight accent.

"You have contacts, and I'm willing to bet not all of them are legal. You've probably had dozens of black market offers before, whether or not you've chosen to accept them. People come to you when they want something, Isis, or when they have something." Kaiba's speech sounded calculated, rehearsed, although Yami was witness to the fact that he hadn't prepared at all.

There was a husky laugh that visibly irritated Kaiba, who couldn't forget how important this was, not with Yami next to him and still looking slightly worse for wear for the whole experience. "Very well put. However, I have heard nothing about the mummy that has recently been discovered."

"You might be able to tell us who might want something like that," Kaiba said without pause. "Who would take a mummy but none of the other treasures or artifacts? Who knows enough about Yami to realize that they might be able to control him through the mummy?"

"I have told you, Kaiba, I don't know." For a moment Yami thought that the connection had flickered, or that there had been some kind of hitch. Kaiba's expression told him otherwise; Isis must have inadvertently given something away. "However, I'm sure you know that I can best access my connections from the museum. We can meet in fifteen minutes and discuss the problem then."

"Don't be late," Kaiba warned, before he switched the headset off. He leaned back in the chair and stared at Yami rather thoughtfully.

"What is it?"

"She doesn't know, not right now, but I have the feeling that she might have someone in mind," Kaiba mused. "There really is no one in the world who has more interest or information on these things. We just have to make sure she's willing to share what's going on in that pretty head of hers."

"Kaiba, I won't let you hurt her," Yami warned. The smile he got in return wasn't reassuring.

"Who said anything about hurting her?" Kaiba asked innocently. As they left the helicopter, he gave Yami a hand down, and then grasped his elbow as they walked to the waiting car.

Half of Yami was a little irritated by the little actions Kaiba had decided to extend to him, but the other half was inordinately flattered. After all, Yami could never really remember spending such an extended period of time alone with Kaiba. Well, they were alone together, a paradox that he found he rather liked.

Once inside the privacy of the car, Kaiba turned to him. Yami couldn't help tensing, expecting some kind of backlash. In his experience, things didn't come together so perfectly, especially when those things concerned a rather stubborn young man who was already the CEO of his own company. Their love-hate relationship had lost its balance in some irreversible way, and surely it was too much to expect all of it to be good.

But Kaiba merely looked at him in a contemplative manner. "Someone obviously very much wants to hurt you. That is unacceptable."

As serious as Kaiba was being, Yami couldn't help but find it funny, and all the more so because of the way Kaiba phrased it. It was so authoritarian, so arrogant, so—Kaiba. He tried to choke back his laughter, finally letting a faint gasp escape that turned into a hasty cough. Kaiba looked suspiciously at the oddly acting Yami, who smiled a little too widely.

Still, the sentiment behind Kaiba's admission, especially since the brunette seemed to think it was akin to confessing his greatest weakness, touched Yami.

And so, this time to Kaiba's surprise, Yami leaned forward to initiate a kiss.

xxxxx

Yami watched in fascination as Kaiba set up the workstation, while Isis attempted to research on her own catalogue of artifacts. A long hour had already passed with little result, and Yami spent much of it pacing restlessly around the quiet museum room. He even wandered out into the Egyptian wing and started perusing the collections of jewelry and other notable items, but it was too disquieting to see these things from the past. Yami tried his best not to even think about the mummy that was out there, or the fact that the curse was probably still very much active.

He talked to Yugi, but Yami was half a world away from his friends, and it was an unnerving experience. It was not that he wasn't used to relying on himself, in the end, and there was Seto, but even so…the heart of this problem wasn't magic, or world domination, or any of the other things Yami had faced. No, Yami feared the past, and the past by definition was something he could not change.

His name repeated like an endless refrain in his mind. Atem. The Pharoah Atem. But try as he might, Yami still could not recall anything past that simple fact, and he had not even remembered it – he had merely read the hieroglyphics that were on the sarcophagus. Previously, his lack of memory had been an annoyance on occasion, a cause to mourn on others, but now it only stirred up very strong feelings of frustration.

Neither did it help that of the three, he alone had nothing in particular to do. Yami was not accustomed to helplessness, not with something as intangible and impossible as a magical curse set thousands of years before the present, and certainly not with something so bizarre, something that was part of him and yet was not. Would he be revolted to look upon his own decaying physical body?

Even the thought of it made him shudder. Did it really matter now that he was a spirit? Yes, somehow it did, or he wouldn't be afflicted by whatever was happening to the mummy. Yami was aware that the excruciating pain he had felt could come back at any moment – they had solved nothing, really, in removing themselves from Egypt. He was only thankful that it hadn't happened again, or at least, not yet.

"Have you found anything?" Kaiba asked Isis rather rudely from across the room. In fact, he was watching her closely, having felt that something was not entirely right for some time now.

She hesitated, confirming Kaiba's suspicions, then shook her head. "Nothing. It might be difficult to trace, even through less official channels if no one is offering to exchange it. We can only trace what's been passed from person to person, after all. It's possible that whoever took it in the first place is simply holding onto it, since they must know that your satellite communications system would relay any information to you in a matter of hours."

Kaiba abruptly abandoned his computer, walking to Isis as Yami tensed. He merely looked over his shoulder and whispered something in her ear that Yami couldn't quite hear. Unsure of what to do, Yami drew closer as if the two were a magnet. Kaiba turned one ironic eye on him and raised his voice, forestalling any attempt on Yami's part to interfere.

"I just traced an unusual transaction from an excavation site in El Minya," he said to Isis, whose eyes widened. "Now why don't I think you're doing as much as you really can to help Yami, Isis?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said defensively. "I've been doing everything within my power to help the pharaoh."

"Then will you care to explain how it is that an unknown mummy from El Minya was transported to this very museum only a few hours ago?" Kaiba leaned over her shoulder and all but breathed down her neck, as across the room Yami controlled his shock.

"H-here?" Her tan skin suddenly paled, and she put a hand up to the hollow of her throat, where she must have been wearing the Millennium Necklace beneath.

"You're protecting someone, Isis," Kaiba said flatly. "I have a good idea who it might be, but I want to hear you say it."

"I really don't know," she said, unable to stand because of Kaiba's position over her. "I would help the pharaoh at all costs, but I do not know."

"Really? At all costs?" Kaiba put a world of doubt in the words she had just uttered, and met her eyes squarely.

She looked away. "I cannot betray him, not even for the pharaoh. We were raised to value our duty to the pharaoh above all things, but… You would never abandon your brother, Kaiba, even for Yami."

"My brother would never do something that would put me in that position," Kaiba retorted. "So where is he?"

"Malik," Yami said slowly, feeling as if he had overlooked something very obvious. "He knows enough about me, and might have the will to do something like this, even now."

Kaiba put his hands on Isis' shoulders, squeezing painfully until tears glistened in her exotically shaped eyes. "Where is he?"

She twisted to face Kaiba, wrenching out of his grasp, and he merely grabbed her wrists when she would have tried to leave. Forcing her arms above her head, Kaiba glowered at her, then paused when her expression turned from one of pain to one of surprise. It was followed by Yami's sudden cry.

Over Isis' shoulder, Kaiba could see that Yami had slumped to the floor, arms wrapped around his own chest and eyes shut tight. He abandoned Isis in an instant and started across the room, only to be stopped in his tracks by a familiar voice.

"It's not my sister you want, Kaiba."

Kaiba turned around, seeing Isis where he'd left her, and another figure, robed with flowing desert colored clothes, next to her. Nothing but his eyes were visible, and something golden that glinted on his brow—the uraeus, the Egyptian cobra used as a symbol of sovereignty and divine authority in ancient Egypt. It was something that would have adorned Yami's head, and his body.

"I'm the one who has Yami's life in my hands," Malik said. "It's a pity, I thought I would be able to control him longer, but he seems to be dying. Such weakness of will, from the former pharaoh...who would have known?"

xxxxx

A/N: Unedited, so please forgive themany typos.I know, I update this story every so often out of the blue, with literally years in between, but I haven't completely abandoned it. I always try my best to continue if I know that people are reading and enjoying the story, so if you stumbled across this old story and would like for me to update,please review! I might surprise you.