Chapter Text
“We're almost there, hurry!” Mokuba easily dodged through the oncoming mass of people, a quick step here, a hop there, and he was down the stairs. Atem followed with a little less grace, but still slipping through the gaps naturally created among the foot traffic on the crossing bridge. He could understand Mokuba’s enthusiasm. It had been a long time since his brother took some time off to spend on himself, with those he loved. Not to mention both he and Atem had managed to convince (read as: nag) Kaiba into ditching the helicopter and luxury cars and instead travel like an average citizen. Now Kaiba was suffering the consequences. Unlike Mokuba and Atem, who had the advantage of their small build to slip and navigate through gaps, he was lost in the sea of people. Atem could see him struggling to even advance at all without unpacking his signature scalding look to get people to make room. Usually he'd make a much larger impression, send out an aura that clearly indicated not to mess with him, but Atem and Mokuba had their fun dressing him down as much as they could until he almost looked like his age again. A casual day was what they had agreed on.
“Any slower and we'll leave you behind!” Atem watched with increasing amusement how Kaiba did his best not to insult every tired salary man and overexcited middle schooler that ran into him. The masses began to thin. Kaiba broke free with a gasp that made it sound like he really had been underwater all the time he had been fighting against the people current. He took hasty steps to catch up with Mokuba and him, dodging a few stragglers, making his way down the stairs. Atem wasn't quite sure what happened the next moment. Kaiba dodged a kid running after its mother. His foot came down wrong and he stumbled, trying to catch himself. Stumbled again. Fell. Hit the stairs. Continued falling. Hitting the stairs. The stairs. The stairs. The stairs. His body made dull thumping sounds as it descended the stairs way too fast. A crack. Another. A thud. And Kaiba lay still. Atem heard someone scream. Was it himself? Mokuba? Some bystander who had to witness this cruel display of gravity? His legs felt like cotton, but somehow he still found himself rushing forward, cradling Kaiba’s bleeding head in his arms. Empty eyes stared back at him, unable to focus on what was in front. Somewhere in the back of his mind Atem registered Mokuba screaming into a phone, but his eyes stayed on Kaiba. “Hey, Kaiba, you can't die. I forbid you from dying.” Was that really his voice? It sounded so…. wrong. “You hear me? You're not allowed to die. Not after all the shit you put me through just to get me here.” He slapped Kaiba's cheek. He could see Kaiba’s lips twitch, a smile? An expression of pain? “No, you don’t get to do that!” He grabbed Kaiba’s face, squishing his cheeks with his hand. “Not until you’ve made good on all the promises you’ve made! What about Mokuba? You want to leave him behind just like that? What about me?” His voice hurt. “What about me, stupid?” Kaiba’s lips tried to form words. Atem wanted to hit him again. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to hear Kaiba’s last words. Not like this. Not now. Still, even though his eyes swam with tears, he could clearly make out the syllables. Go. Men. Na. ‘Sorry.’ He wanted to scream at him that sorry didn’t cut it but he could hear his laboured breath grow weaker. Weaker. And then it stopped. Sirens started approaching. An ambulance. But it was too late.
Atem still remembered the death of his father. How he hadn’t allowed himself to grieve, instead pouring himself into becoming the best pharaoh he could be. He had a distraction. But this was different. He had no work to distract himself with. Nothing. His phone was full of unread messages of worry and condolences. At some point he just let it run out of battery. His meals consisted mostly out of tap water and whatever he scarfed down in front of the open fridge in the middle of the night, when he was sure he wouldn’t run into anyone. Meeting Mokuba would feel weird, as technically he should be the one grieving more than him. He couldn’t bring himself to attend any meals or cook anything himself. The microwave was left untouched. He’d tear leaves from a head of salad, eat slices of cheese out of the package or cold leftover pasta he picked at out of the container until he couldn’t get the energy to eat more and just put it back in the fridge before trudging back to his room. Kaiba’s room, technically, but no one said a thing when he locked himself in there and surrounded himself with Kaiba’s belongings, wrapped in his stupidly big coat as he slept in what could only count as a nest of his clothes. He had carried them over to Kaiba’s bed bit by bit, adding item after item because it never was enough, no heap of clothes made up for the absence of the body that used to wear them. He somehow even managed to get his hands on the suitcase Kaiba carried his cards in and he slept hugging the cold, sharp metal because his deck was the last of what remained of his soul, no matter how pointy its container. Some days he’d wake up and his eyes inevitably landed on the glass case that housed the puzzle. He knew it opened to Kaiba’s fingerprint only, and based on the wear on the pad that scanned the print Kaiba must have opened it many times. Had he also slept holding a sharp object the way he was doing now? It wasn’t hard to imagine. Atem hugged the suitcase tighter and drifted back off to sleep.
He somehow managed to avoid Mokuba. Or maybe Mokuba was avoiding him. He honestly had no idea, given that he didn’t see him. He didn’t even know what Mokuba was doing. He hadn’t heard a thing from him. Not a demand to give up his occupation of Kaiba’s room. Not a knock at the door. The only thing he did notice of Mokuba was barely touched meals left in the fridge. A half eaten sandwich. Curry with maybe two mouthfuls missing. Pizza with less than a slice eaten. Atem knew he should comfort him. Be there for him. Take him in his arms and tell him he’d be there for him. But he couldn’t. Simply the mental image of Mokuba’s eyes on him left him nauseated. It was his fault. Kaiba had brought him back, he had declined on going on a fancy outing, insisting on acting like normal people instead. And Kaiba had fallen. Fallen like a normal person. Not gotten up like a normal person. Been carried off in the way too late ambulance like a normal person. It felt unfair. This wasn’t how it should have happened. This wasn’t Kaiba. If he could have picked his own death, it would have been something glorious, something only he could do. A way only Kaiba could die. Nothing else felt appropriate. Then again, no death felt appropriate. Some part of his mind viewed Kaiba as this bigger than life, immortal being that didn’t age and didn’t die. Almost as if he had been the half god and not himself. Atem’s gaze fell on the glass case with the puzzle inside again.
“Would you come back if I went out to get you?”
He knew he couldn’t avoid Mokuba forever. But when it finally happened, it was surprisingly lacklustre. Mokuba simply unlocked Kaiba’s room with the general key, stuck his head through the gap in the door and said, “Yugi keeps calling the landline to talk to you. It’s annoying.”, before closing the door and leaving again, not even giving Atem time to respond. Atem was left scrambling after him, dressed in his brother’s coat and his own unwashed tunic, almost tripping over himself to catch up to him. He managed to catch him by the elbow, halting his retreat.
“Are…”, he searched for the right words, “....are you okay?”
Mokuba turned to him and the look in his eyes gave Atem a deep feeling of uncanniness. The eerie emptiness in them made a shiver run down his back. “There are arrangements to be made. I have to organise the funeral. KaibaCorp needs a new structure now that my brother is gone. Investors that laid low because he was there are now uprising because they think they have a shot at a better position. I don’t have time for…” His gaze flicked up and down Atem, “....this.” Atem looked away guiltily, but didn’t let go of his arm. “Is that all? I need to go.” Atem made a split second decision.
“No.” He dragged Mokuba back to Kaiba’s room by his arm until they reached the bed with Kaiba’s belongings strewn about. He took the general key off of Mokuba and left the room, locking the door behind him. He didn’t feel qualified to comfort him, but the boy needed some time. He could hear Mokuba protesting inside, hammering his fists against the door, but he simply sat down on the floor next to the door. One of the staff hurried over, probably having heard Mokuba’s shouting. Atem gave her a thin smile. “Could you make us some onigiri?”
When the housekeeper returned with the warm onigiri, Mokuba had quieted down considerably. Atem received the plate from her with a nod and slowly unlocked the door again, opening it a mere sliver, slipping through, and closing it again. Mokuba wasn’t visible anywhere, but when the door clicked closed, Atem heard him stirring slightly. Probably the bed.
“I noticed you weren’t eating.” He stepped closer to the bed, finding Mokuba in a similar position he had occupied the last few days, curled up in the nest of clothes, hugging the briefcase.
“Neither were you.” The reply was weak, lacking the bite his previous words had.
“I know.” Atem set the plate on the bedside table. “We’re both bad at this.” He shed Kaiba’s coat and held it out to Mokuba, who reluctantly sat up and took it.
“Stinks like sweat.” He pressed it to his chest. “When did you last shower?”
“You don’t want to know that.”
Mokuba considered this. “Right. Whenever it was, it was too long ago.”
Atem sat down on the bed next to him. “Do you…. feel like eating?”
“Do you?” Mokuba returned the question. Atem eyed the onigiri. He had asked for something simple, but…
“Not really.”
“Yeah.”
Silence settled over them.
“He’d want us to eat.” Mokuba snorted bitterly. “Even though he sucked at it too.”
“Did he ever consume anything other than coffee?”
“Water.”
“What a role model.”
“Right?” Mokuba’s voice cracked. “I can almost imagine he threw himself deep into another project. The only difference is that I won’t find him in the kitchen at 4 AM.”
Atem didn’t reply to that. Long minutes of silence passed until he dared to speak again.
“You should sleep.”
“I don’t want to hear that from you of all people.”
“You still should.”
Silence, then a huff. “I’m starting to act like him.” Mokuba shed his suit jacket, then lied down again, still holding onto Kaiba’s coat. “Wake me in the morning.”
As Atem lied down next to him, he knew he wouldn’t.
When Atem woke up, Mokuba was gone again. He hadn't expected him to stick around long anyway, but he did spot some of the now cold onigiri missing. At least something. He grabbed one for himself, more nibbling than eating, but not putting it down either. Would his stomach even be able to handle it if he were to eat more right now? He didn't know and he wasn't up to finding out either. He put the barely eaten onigiri back on the plate and curled up on the bed again. He didn't want time to pass. The more time passed, the longer it had been since the fall. And the longer it had been, the more empty he felt. He wished he could just close his eyes and go to sleep, sleep through this whole ordeal until the empty feeling was gone. He was not allowed that privilege. The door opened with way too much force and slammed against the wall next to it.
“Yo!”
Atem wanted to curl up even further. What little progress he felt like he had made after meeting Mokuba again dissolved like spun sugar in water. Jounouchi strode into the room as if he owned the place.
“You've been quiet. Yugi’s worried.”
Atem didn't move. Could Jounouchi see him? Maybe if he stayed silent long enough, he'd leave.
“I know you're in here, you know.”
Steps walking around the room. Approaching the bed. Clothes being pulled out of the way.
“What are you doing?”
Atem still didn't reply. When Jounouchi reached over to try and pull him in a position where he could properly look at him, Atem curled up even further away from him.
“Come on, you can't just ignore me like that.”
He reached for Atem again. Atem shook him off.
“That's not funny.” Jounouchi leaned over him until Atem had no choice but to look at him. “Ignoring me is one thing, but you've been ghosting Yugi for ages now. He's worried about ya.”
Atem averted his eyes, only hugging the suitcase tighter. Jounouchi, of course, noticed.
“Don't tell me you're the next one to travel to the afterlife.” It might have been a joke. Or maybe concern hidden under a jab. “Unlike you, he doesn't have a puzzle. Please.” Now Atem could hear the desperation, the worry in his voice. “Please don't.”
“... and if I would?” His voice was quiet, a bit shaky.
“Atem.” Jounouchi gently pried the suitcase out of his clutch. “You have us. We worry about you. We’d miss you. Even if Kaiba did it, there's no guarantee you'll be able to do it as well.” The last bit of metal slipped from Atem’s grasp. “Kaiba had… Mokuba.”
It was too much. Atem tore the suitcase from Jounouchi’s hold and held it close to his chest like it was his last bit of treasure. “Don't you dare insinuate Kaiba had no care for Mokuba!” He took a few steps back, the soft underground of the mattress making him wobble a bit.
“You don't know anything about him!”
“Ate-”
“Leave!” Atem barked. “Leave!!”
Jounouchi left.