A/N: Written for a YGO rare pair short fic request/exchange over at LiveJournal. (Open till March 15.) The prompt was Cobaltshipping (Kaiba Seto x Kisara x Priest Seto); Memory.

Disclaimer: Kazuki Takahashi and all associated companies are the rightful owners of the Yuugiou! franchise and I claim no association with any of them. No copyright infringement intended with this and no money is being made from this. Please support the creator by purchasing the official releases.

Warnings: mild sexual hints.


(It's never a) Memory

He wonders if he'll ever remember this after everything's over. He wonders if he should remember, even. Everything's so... relative in this world - which should be a hallucination, but isn't - and Seto can no longer deny the existence of things out of the scientifically explainable. His rational mind is suddenly behaving irrationally and he's afraid - but only a teeny tiny bit - that he'll start believing in everything that's happening.

But not believing is even harder because Kisara is so alive between the two of them and the other him is right there, incredibly blue eyes locked on him in a look he's seen somewhere else, a look he's given to someone else some other time. And maybe this other him is a hallucination, and maybe - just a teensy tiny bit maybe - Seto is the other's hallucination. And if it's a dream, it's not a nightmare. And if it's a nightmare, then one where he wouldn't mind staying. Seto is looking at himself and nothing has ever felt more like a dream where you're only a spectator from the sidelines before you're drawn in and realise that you're inside someone else's body while still remaining aware of the other one - who is also you.
It's crazy, but somehow sane at the same time.

Kisara sighs and leans her head back against Seto's chest, falling, falling, safe, and her eyes are the bluest blue Seto has ever seen. And he thinks that it really shouldn't feel like he belongs here with the two of them, her and the other him. They never touch each other - the echoes of the same soul from two different eras - because it feels like something would tear in the universe if they did. Something would rupture and the world would collapse around them. They only touch her; and her feather-light touch in response binds them together; binds them to her. Her breath is a melody and her heart is beating in her fingertips.

Their fingers intertwine and then there is a moment of startlement, of realisation, a flicker of fear, as two identical gazes meet over Kisara's head and the universe explodes. They haven't looked - the priest and the CEO - where their hands wandered, thinking that it would be Kisara to meet their touch just like always, but her hands aren't there and the world does something weird around them – implodes and compresses at the same time, and cracks and mends, and disappears and rebuilds itself. For a moment there is only blinding light, as worlds sever and bind together again, and the blue-eyed white-haired girl is smiling, smiling... And it's the gentlest smile they've ever seen. The world doesn't crumble. The fabric of the universe doesn't tear. And Kisara is still smiling.
She'll always see them as one.