[Yugioh] RE:Play, Part I. RE:Try - Chapter One

[shiraume_fic]

RE:Play
[5/29/2009 - 12/31/2010]

I. RE:Try

“...Pharaoh?”

Cautiously, Atem opened his eyes. The blinding light was gone, and he was sitting in a chair behind a wooden desk. There was something stiff and brittle between his fingers, and he frowned at the sheet of papyrus he held, spread over the desk. He had seen the vision of his friends from ancient Egypt before he crossed over, but this was a rather strange way to start his afterlife.

Siamun’s dark brows were knitted with worry. “My king?”

“Ah.” Atem blinked, and blink again. “Yes?” Siamun was standing before his desk, next to the Priest...Akhenaden?

Who wore a concerned look on his face. “My deepest apologies, pharaoh, but these reports are urgent. The people are growing anxious. If we let these bandits roam free any longer, when we are still recovering from the recent wars...”

“It troubles me too, pharaoh.” Siamun did not lose a beat. “According to the reports, it seems these bandits have a new leader, one even bolder and more cunning than the last. That he gained control over this bunch so quickly bodes ill for the future.”

Akhenaden nodded his agreement. “And he seems to know the area like the palm of his own hand. So far we’ve had no luck tracking his band. I suspect they may have a hideout within the royal city, and... Pharaoh?”

This had better be a dream. It had to be karmic injustice if he was expected to work in his afterlife after saving the world. Where was he, anyway? Was this really the afterlife, or some bizarre dream? Whichever it was, some deity somewhere must had been having a good laugh at his expense.

“Can I take a short break before I look at this?” First things first. It was a bit unnerving to have both elders looming over his desk, especially since the last memory he had of Akhenaden was of cruel laughter and dark energy saturating the air, thick enough to choke on, challenging him to a duel to the death. Also, Siamun’s piercing gaze, which had just now turned from worried to unimpressed, was making him feel all of three years old rather than three thousand. “I’m a bit tired,” he added, forcing himself to meet Siamun’s eyes. He knew this was not Yuugi’s grandfather, but the resemblance made it hard to remember.

Siamun didn’t look entirely convinced, but there was a definite hint of softening in Akhenaden’s somber countenance. “There is another report I would like you to take a look at, Lord Siamun. Perhaps we can present the rest to the pharaoh afterward?”

A quirk of the wizened brow, then Siamun relented. “Ah, yes. Perhaps a short rest in the harem, my king?”

Rest was good. Getting out of here was good. Because something screamed WRONGWRONGWRONG in his mind, and this whole situation was beginning to freak him out a bit. This was definitely not what he had expected when he crossed the gate to the Underworld.

“Yes, that would be good,” Atem said absently, and in his preoccupation, completely missed the surprise flicker on both his advisors’ faces. Thankfully, the attendants summoned to escort him were clearing the path for him at the same time, and Atem breathed a quiet sigh of relief as the entourage all but swept him away. Left behind, Siamun and Akhenaden looked at each other, stunned.

“The pharaoh must have been tired. He usually avoids having to visit the harem.” Siamun mused, hearing Akhenaden make a thoughtful hum. “A pity, too. Lady Meritatem has grown into a lovely young woman. If only the pharaoh would spend more time with her.”

Akhenaden nodded. The lack of marital affection between the pharaoh and his queen had been his longtime concern as well. “Lord Siamun, it is no longer appropriate to call her that, since she is now the great royal wife,” he said as a reminder, partly to himself. Even now, it was difficult to think of Meritatem as anything other than his sister’s little girl.

“Time flies, no? I remember when she first entered the harem, just a little thing of seven. Now you can see the living image of the late princess in her.”

Akhenaden’s eyes softened with fondness and sorrow. “She certainly carries herself with her mother’s grace and dignity. I’m sure one day the pharaoh will come to care for her deeply.”

“Now, if only young Seth would settle down with a nice young lady, no?” Siamun asked with a chuckle and a sly wink. Akhenaden’s concerns for the young priest were no secret to him. “Shall I have some recommendations sent?”

“That would be most kind,” Akhenaden replied with as much dignity as he could muster. “Now, about the reports...”

~*~*~*~

When the light from the gateway faded, Yuugi had expected to see Atem gone. (Which he did.) Yuugi had also expected to see the rest of his friends – Jounouchi, Honda, and Anzu, in particular – right behind him. (That he didn’t.) What he hadn’t expected to see was a vaguely familiar hallway lined with a long row of thick stone columns . Beyond the peristyle peeked the courtyard, which was actually a garden with a surprising variety of plants. No matter how he looked, this looked like the Memory World. This was very, very unexpected.

Maybe he was having a really vivid dream? Yuugi tried pinching himself. Ouch, and nope, no such luck. Rubbing his cheek, Yuugi tried walking around next. Nothing. Was it possible that he was back inside the Memory World? Yuugi looked up at the endlessly clear sky, but there was no glinting gold of inverted pyramid anywhere, not even a spot of cloud resembling one. This was not very encouraging. And why was he alone?

Of all his experiences of the supernatural and unusual, this was definitely boding towards Not Good. Yuugi closed his eyes and groaned. He’d thought his adventuring days had finally ended. What now? Suddenly feeling weary, Yuugi leaned on one of the stone columns before he remembered he couldn’t touch anything in the Memory World.

...Wait a minute. The column felt solid under his hand: smooth stone roughened with etchings, and sun-warmed.

“Pharaoh?”

Yuugi whipped around at the sound, and felt his eyes grow even rounder. A lady in ancient Egyptian garment stood there looking at him. Half a dozen similarly-dressed women stood a couple steps behind her, their eyes respectfully lowered. A pretty lady, Yuugi decided after a moment. Not beautiful like Anzu or Mai, but slender, with dark hair and smooth, dark olive skin. The lady’s dark eyes studied him for a moment, then suspicion flickered in them.

“Who are you?”

Well, that clinched it. This world wasn’t the Memory World. Or, if it was, somehow it had turned real. The lady’s attendants were now all staring at him, too, beginning to look horrified. One of them let out a strangled sound, like she wanted to scream but didn’t quite dare, but the lady held up a hand, and the girl quieted.

“This place is forbidden to outsiders,” the lady said to him, not unkind, but stern. “How did you get in here?”

“Make way for the pharaoh!” A voice cried, just around the corner, and the rest of the women started, then knelt down at once with heads bowed. The lady, who remained standing, briefly looked surprised before her expression smoothed over, and Yuugi had no time for anything more before a group rounded the corner and stopped before them.

“...Other Me?” Yuugi whispered, or tried to, but his voice seemed frozen somewhere in his chest, unable to claw its way out. Atem’s eyes widened minutely, and Yuugi knew Atem heard him anyway.

“Aibou?!”

~*~*~*~

“...And that’s how I found myself here.” Yuugi finished, nervously glancing at the guards and attendants waiting near the doorway. “How did you—?”

Atem sighed. “Same way you did. When the light faded, I was here. Well, in my office, I think.”

It was a good thing Atem rarely remained flustered for long. Yuugi himself had remained tongue-tied while Atem, recovering himself only a heartbeat later, declared Yuugi was an emissary of the gods who had come to visit him, made excuses to the lady (whom Yuugi now realized was the queen; all of Atem’s attendants had knelt when they saw her), and whisked Yuugi back to the pharaoh’s private chambers.

“So where are we? This looks like ancient Egypt from the Memory world.” A less likely version of the events hit him then, and by the tight look on Atem’s face, the same idea had occurred to his Other Self as well. “...Don’t tell me we’re actually in Egypt? As in three thousand years ago in the past?”

“It’s a possibility,” Atem admitted reluctantly. “If this is the Memory World, nobody should be able to see you, since you’re not part of my memories. But you exist here, as I do. I don’t think this is another Shadow Game, either, and...” The Millennium Puzzle glinted in the light, fastened around Atem’s neck with a leather cord. “The Puzzle. It feels...whole. Different.” His fingers hovered near the golden surface, but did not touch it. “New.”

“Did...did I do something wrong?” That had been a niggling doubt in Yuugi’s mind. “What if I messed up somehow?”

Atem’s eyes, which had turned distant for a moment, sharpened instantly, focused solely on Yuugi. “No, aibou. You did everything right. The question is, why did we both end up here? And,” his eyes narrowed, brows knitting together in a frown, “more importantly, how can we send you back to the future , where you belong?”

It hit Yuugi then: if he did go home, then he would have to say goodbye to Atem again. Technically, he’d said his goodbyes already, right after their final duel, except he’d been too distraught to say it properly. But now that they were in the past, when Atem was still living, what would happen to him once Yuugi left?

“Aibou?”

Yuugi started, realizing his hand had made its way to Atem’s cheek without his knowledge. Atem hadn’t pulled away from the touch, though he looked puzzled. Just after the duel, Atem had laid a hand on Yuugi’s shoulder, the very first physical touch Atem had ever given him. As comforting as it had been, the touch had torn him apart then, because it was clear that the first time was also going to be the last. But here, they could touch so easily. All he had to do was to reach out.

“What about you?” Slowly, Yuugi took his hand away, embarrassed he’d let his hand linger so long. Come to think of it, this was the first time Yuugi had ever touched Atem physically. And Atem was so warm, so very much alive... “What will happen to you when I’m gone?”

Atem frowned. “I’m not sure. I’d thought once I cross the gate, I would simply enter the afterlife. Nevertheless, our duel was over. There is no reason why you should still be involved in this.” Thoughtfully, Atem fingered the edge of the golden pyramid. “I don’t think Millennium Items have the power to move time. Perhaps we could—”

“Pharaoh?” Mahaad was at the doorway, looking apologetic for the interruption. “Lord Siamun sends word that the reports are ready.”

Atem, to his credit, looked annoyed for only a second before a speculative look replaced it. After letting Mahaad fidget for another long minute, Atem’s lips curved slowly. “Very well. And good timing. I’d meant to summon you, Mahaad.”

Mahaad, who had begun to look a tad nervous, was instantly alert. “What would you have me do, pharaoh?”

“This is Yuugi, an emissary from the gods.” Yuugi refrained from twitching with the sheer force of will. Atem didn’t even glance at him, the jerk. “I would like you to accompany Yuugi around the palace, to protect him and to see to his comfort. And answer any questions,” Atem added almost as an afterthought. “Let all know that Yuugi is to be treated with utmost respect. We will meet again here later, ai—Yuugi, to talk more.”

There was nothing Yuugi could do except nod, resigned to wait until Atem was done with whatever duties he had to finish. At least he had Mahaad for company, and Mahaad had kind eyes. He might not make much issue of Yuugi being...out of place. Which, when he thought about it, was probably why Atem chose Mahaad in the first place. The brief pleasantries finished, Atem strode out of the room, leaving Yuugi with Mahaad, and the attendants who were doing their best not to openly stare at Yuugi with great curiosity.

“Would you like any refreshments, Divine One?”

Yuugi almost stammered out an embarrassed denial, only to recover himself with slightest hint of a blush staining his cheeks. All right, it was short notice, and yes, it did prevent people from asking awkward questions. But did Atem have to choose that for a cover story? For the first time, he thanked the fact Jounouchi, Honda, and Anzu weren’t here; they’d never have let him live this down.

“Ah—could we maybe walk around the palace? I haven’t really had a chance to see much last time—” Whoops. Backtrack! “I mean, before,” Yuugi finished lamely. Thankfully, if Mahaad found his words odd, the priest didn’t let it show.

“It will be my pleasure,” Mahaad bowed, then turned to lead the way. “If you please, Divine One, I can also have the bath prepared for your use afterward.”

“Um, that’d be great, thanks. And could you just call me Yuugi?” Perhaps he shouldn’t have said that, but being called ‘Divine One’ was really beginning to bother him. To his surprise, Mahaad only looked at him with a bit of surprise and...fondness?

“If you wish...Lord Yuugi.”

With a wave of his hand, Mahaad dismissed the attendants, and Yuugi let out an inaudible sigh of relief to be with just Mahaad. Atem had specified he was to be treated with utmost respect, but he hadn’t forbidden people from staring at him. And everyone was staring at him.

“This garden was expanded during the reign of the previous king, Pharaoh Akhnamkanen . The garden for the harem was also renovated at that time to add a large pond. If you would like to see it, the sacred blue lotus is in full bloom.” Mahaad paused to look at him, and Yuugi, who had only half-listened to the explanation while looking around him in wonder, flushed.

“Uh...that sounds great. Thank you.”

“If I may presume to ask...” Mahaad hesitated, and Yuugi turned to blink at him quizzically. “How is it that you know the pharaoh, Lord Yuugi? It appeared to me that you know him very well, and he you. Yet we have never seen or heard of you until today.” A slight frown touched his brow as Mahaad’s brown eyes, mild yet piercing, regarded Yuugi. “Forgive my impertinence, Lord Yuugi, but as one of the pharaoh’s servants, I cannot help but worry.”

The concern in Mahaad’s eyes was sincere, and Yuugi felt inexplicably relieved: Mahaad obviously cared for Atem deeply. Had their positions been reversed, he, too, would have questioned the same thing. It was comforting to know someone like Mahaad had been at Atem’s side 3,000 years ago. At the same time, Yuugi couldn’t help feeling envious. Here was someone who had a chance to get to know Atem in life, watched Atem’s back, and had worked with him. Even though the two of them had shared a body for nearly two years, being in the same body meant that one of them had to remain a spectator during most of their time together. That had been why Yuugi had insisted on facing Pegasus himself, despite the dangers; it was one of the rare times he had had a chance to to fight alongside Atem rather than simply watching.

And there was Mahaad’s uncanny resemblance to the Black Magician. And hadn’t Black Magician looked exactly like Mahaad when Yuugi summoned him in the Memory World? The strange sense of familiarity, the same feeling surrounding the Black Magician also surrounded Mahaad, and Yuugi was certain: Mahaad had something to do with the Black Magician. Possibly was the Black Magician. Either way, this was someone he could trust, someone who would be a loyal friend to the end.

“It’s...a long story.” Yuugi paused. ‘I know him from the time he was sharing my body as the spirit of a nameless pharaoh 3,000 years later in the future’ was probably not the best way to explain. “I really am not from this world, though. In...another world, you might say, we got to know each other very well.” And could he be more vague, please? He honestly couldn’t expect Mahaad to believe him now, could he? “It’s just that...I don’t know how to explain any of this, either. But he’s the best friend I’ve ever had, and...”

Mahaad’s expression was unreadable. Yuugi did not look away despite growing unease and embarrassment. He couldn’t offer the whole truth, or a real explanation, but he could offer his sincerity. It was probably lucky, Yuugi mused wryly, that Atem had the foresight to entrust him to Mahaad and not the priest who looked like Kaiba; if the Kaiba-look-alike was anything like Kaiba, Yuugi would have landed in the dungeons faster than he could say “Blue-Eyes.”

“I believe you,” Mahaad said after a long scrutiny of his face, and Yuugi was equal parts startled and relieved. “You resemble the pharaoh a great deal, Lord Yuugi. And not just in physical appearance.”

“...Would you mind not calling me that? ‘Lord Yuugi,’ I mean,” Yuugi asked, fighting down another blush. “It sounds...well, it makes me kind of uncomfortable when you do.”

The smile Mahaad gave him in response was fleeting but warm. “You really do remind me of my prince when he was young.” With a slight inclination of his head, Mahaad capitulated with easy grace. “Yuugi, then. Would you like to continue looking around? Pharaoh likely will not return until the evening.”

“Yes, please.” Curiosity overcame decorum, as Yuugi remembered this was someone who had actually known Atem, and he might never get another chance like this. “Can I ask how long you’ve known Atem? I mean, the pharaoh?”

Mahaad considered the question briefly. “A little over ten years. The prince was only five years old when we first met.” A fond look in his eyes made him wonder what kind of child his Other Self had been.

“So...you said we have some time to kill before Atem comes back.” Mahaad nodded. “Well, then,” Yuugi did not rub his hands together in glee, but only with considerable effort. “Do you think you could tell me what Atem was like? When he was little, I mean?”

Mahaad looked like he was trying not to laugh. “I don’t think the pharaoh will appreciate me sharing stories from his childhood.” Yuugi was not going to pout. He was seventeen years old and a boy, damn it, a young man, even. He was not going to— “...And I think you might prefer talking to someone else about that,” Mahaad amended quickly. Maybe pouting wasn’t effective just on Anzu (not that he was admitting to it or anything, but still). “You really do remind me of the prince when he was young,” Mahaad said darkly. “Let me see if I can have Mana summoned here.”

This time, Yuugi couldn’t stop the smile that slowly spread on his face. “How long did you say we have?”

~*~*~*~

Notes: Yes, I've used the dub name spellings (as given in Wikipedia) for Atem's father and uncle. Mainly, I'm more concerned about making the names look more authentic, so unless there's a very clear reason to do otherwise (like canon's Isis, whose correct rendering would have been Iset or Aset), I used my own judgment which version to use. (For example, the royal adviser's name is actually romanized as Shimon, but I used Siamun instead.) As for the whole Atem/Ahtimu debacle, I'm not touching that; for my purpose, his name is spelled Atem, after the god Atum (itm; also rendered Atem or Tem). I know I'm making a lot of arbitrary judgment calls here, but I will try to be consistent, at least within the fic itself.

Yes, I've given Atem a wife (an original character - wait wait, bear with me here!), because nobody in ancient Egypt would have let a prince near the throne without a wife or a dozen. No, she's not important for the fic, so rest assured - Atem barely remembers she existed! In fact, Meritatem's name is meant to be ironic: it means "beloved of Atem." I have an entirely fictional family tree I created for this fic (and others in the planning) that goes into more details about where Meritatem comes from.

As always, standard disclaimers apply. ♥