WARNING: This one-shot contains spoilers for the ending of the Yu-Gi-Oh series. It is not yaoi, however 'suggestively romatic' it may seem.
Black locks stained with reddish-pink bounced around behind the window, blond bangs mixing in with the explosion of spiked, multi-coloured hair.
Bloody eyes widened in curiosity at the boy on the other side of the window, as the young one fell onto his bed, his arms and legs splayed. The boy closed his eyes and sighed again, looking distraught.
He descended his incorporeal form down, closer to the window. He was not afraid that the boy could see him; after all, things didn't work that way anymore. Now, to Yugi, he was invisible. He was nothing but an empty space in the sky.
It hadn't been that way before. Before, things felt so good…he was free to be the father and brother figure of the boy…his best friend, his light.
When he'd crossed over, he'd learned quickly that he could visit the human world and watch the living go about their days. Of course, the first person he visited was Yugi.
His eyes squinted in concentration as he peered at the boy, whose own eyes were closed still. Suddenly Yugi sat up, his eyes open, but downcast. Yugi looked out the window, and his eyes widened.
For one hopeful moment, the once-nameless Pharaoh of Egypt thought that Yugi could see him.
But the boy shook his head and walked over to his desk, sitting down, and pulling out a pen.
This was what Atem always did. It didn't matter that now he was, technically, dead. It didn't matter that he'd crossed over, because crossing over had to have been the worst mistake he'd ever made.
He'd had so, so much more as the Spirit of the Puzzle. He'd been Mou Hitori No Boku, Yami, Pharaoh, and friend. Now, he was simply another of the dead, the dead Pharaoh Atem.
He raised an intangible hand up to his face. A tiny, sardonic smile graced his features as he saw Yugi through it.
This kind of intangibility was much different than the one he'd been so accustomed to before.
Atem sighed deeply, putting a finger to his forehead. How could he be so pathetic? It was over now. He could not go back. He could not change fate.
This was what he was, and what he always would be.
Heaven did not exist. It had never been in his culture to believe in it.
The afterlife wasn't much better. It was just a swirling catalyst of memories, pulling a soul through their life over and over until they evaporated into nothing, to be reborn again in thousands of years as a human.
But what was the point to such a life? When he passed over and was reincarnated, he would not remember Yugi, and Yugi would not be reincarnated at the same time.
It was a silly, impossible fate to choose.
So there sat the Great Pharaoh, hovering in the air above a window, watching his light write.
Quite a fate to behold, was it not?
Being what he was was harder than it'd been to be a memory-less spirit. As he was, he could not switch with Yugi to be able to feel. He could not communicate with Yugi, for he did not have a real voice.
He was cut off from every sense except for sight and hearing.
It was a terrible, terrible feeling to be cut off from three of one's five (or six, if the situation occurs) senses.
"Yugi…" Atem said, in that ghostly whispering voice he now had. It'd lost its powerful, stern quality when he passed over, for he had no use for it anymore.
Deciding that he was bored with hovering there, Atem daringly ventured into the boy's room, letting his feet 'touch' down onto the floor. As they were, they did not 'touch', merely hover on the surface.
Yugi was writing a letter.
Atem read over the boy's shoulder, his eyes growing wider as he saw the words that were written in Yugi's loopy scrawl.
I know it's silly to write this letter, after all, you crossed over almost a year ago, and you've probably forgotten me…
Atem shook his head in spite of himself. How could he forget Yugi?
And you will never know I wrote this letter, among the millions of others I write and put in a little box under my bed. It's kind of silly, but I always think that if I leave it on the table, you'll read it while I sleep.
Well, I've missed you…I guess that's all I can really say.
Atem knew, that had he been human, he'd probably be crying. His light, his other half, was upset over him. Yugi had no reason to be upset. Finally, the boy could lead a normal teenaged life. He could just…be Yugi. He no longer had to bee the vessel for a five-thousand year old spirit with memory-loss and a competitive streak.
Maybe…could it be…that Yugi had enjoyed the time they spent saving the world? He knew that Yugi cared for Atem as Atem did for Yugi, but how was it possible that the boy enjoyed having to do those burdening tasks? How could timid little Yugi have enjoyed that?
"You're an enigma; did you know that, little one?" Atem murmured, his intangible hand moving to brush some glistening tears from Yugi's face. His hand passed through, but that was no shock.
What was a shock was when Yugi went rigid, his hand flying to his face, his mouth open in a silent gasp.
Atem hesitated. Was Yugi so attuned to spirits that he'd, somehow, felt Atem's nonexistent touch?
It couldn't be. It was impossible.
Atem suddenly felt a painful pull on his form that he did not understand. He was dead; he could feel no pain…
What was this?
There was a harsh tug on him, and he was jerked violently backwards, flying away from little Yugi.
The last thing he saw were wide, shocked, purple eyes staring straight at him. They were wide, purple, knowing eyes.
Suddenly everything stopped, and he was dropped onto a hard surface, something cold and wet beating down on him.
He let out a groan, and pulled himself up, blinking at his surroundings. He was…in a park.
"Are you okay dear?"
Atem's eyes widened and he whipped around to see an older woman, her warm, wrinkled face creased in worry. Her eyes were soft. She looked kind. She pulled her raincoat up higher onto her head, her umbrella held tightly in her free hand.
Atem slowly nodded, but it was contradictory to the pounding in his skull.
She nodded back, and hobbled away. There really wasn't much else an old woman could do.
Atem winced, confused, wet, and strangely tired.
What was going on?
He groaned again, suddenly being hit with a wave of the overwhelming pounding in his head, "What...the hell..." He grumbled. He paused, mouth hanging open. His voice...it was no longer a ghostly whisper. It sounded human...it sounded like it used to. In a rush of shock, he brought his hand up to his face, and instead of seeing intangible, untouchable skin, he saw true flesh. He saw a flesh hand that had blood coursing through it.
Atem's eyes shone. He was alive. There was no doubt about it. He could feel his heart, pounding excitedly inside his human chest. He could feel every deep, exhilirating breath he took.
It was a gift from the Gods themselves. They had deemed him worthy for life again...and he was eternally thankful.
The rain, falling around him in what had been a loud roar, seemed to dull and diminish into a faint pattering in the background. The grass, cold and hard beneath him, felt like a heavenly substance. It was another thing proving he was alive, and therefore he was delighted by it.
He knew this strange, uncharacteristic euphoria would die down soon...he might as well enjoy it while it stayed.
Atem stood up, leaning against a tree for support, before gaining his balance. He straightened, his back cracking from the sudden use of new bones. His bangs fell in front of his face, soaked with the pouring rain. But that didn't matter. None of it mattered. He was out of that half-existence, back in a world where he could communicate with his precious people...
With his light.
There were quick, familiar footsteps. Footsteps that sounded like they belonged to shorter legs, light, but quick. Then the footsteps halted, and the only sound besides the rain was the heaving breath of his visitor. Atem looked up, his eyes filled with his beautiful euphoria, and he saw the one person he absolutely wanted to see.
"A-Atem..." He said quietly, almost inaudible in the pouring droplets of water, showering down from the heavens. Tears were running down his face. Or was that just the rain? He straightened also, and a wide, familiar smile spread across his face, "You came back."
A smaller, but equally as meaningful smile graced the lips of the once deceased Pharaoh. His eyes, a ruby red, were as happy as they'd ever been to Yugi. The Pharaoh's deep voice sounded, and he himself was relieved to hear himself speak. It was just one of those ways to prove he wasn't hallucinating.
It was his Yugi. The person who'd been like his son, his brother, his best friend...the shining beacon of light in his eternal darkness. Atem looked up at the younger boy, his mouth upturned in a smile of his own, "Hello."
Eh, it was a bit of a lame-o ending, but I wanted to give the title some meaning. I hope thou enjoyed! Review...