"In related news, stock prices for SchroederCorp have reached an all-time low today, with thousands of workers suddenly out of a job. Experts say that this signals the death knells of the company, which has been struggling for years in the wake of KaibaCorp. And speaking of Seto Kaiba…"

Atem hit the power button on the TV. Yugi glanced up from the table, his spoon posed over his bowl of cereal.

"Don't you want to know what Kaiba told them?" he asked his double.

"I suspect he will be here to tell us himself," Atem said, sitting down at the kitchen table. It seemed impossible that only a few hours ago, a man had bled to death in his arms. He had answered the police officer's questions, had showered, changed, and snatched a few hours of sleep. He looked unchanged. Until you got to his eyes. There, the grief was fathoms deep.

Yugi put out his hand, resting it on top of Atem's own. For once, he said nothing, offering silent comfort. With an effort, Atem dragged himself from his reverie and smiled at his double.

"Aren't you late for school?"

Yugi glanced at the clock above the kitchen sink. "Yep."

Atem stared at him. The old Yugi would have run screaming for the door, bashing his knee on the table, smashing into the doorframe, and forgetting his backpack in the process. Many times, the Pharaoh had been forced to take over the body, just to ensure that the pair of them made it to school in one piece. The new Yugi continued to eat his cereal, unconcerned.

"I'm not going," Yugi said, catching the Pharaoh's look. "I wouldn't be able to concentrate."

It was then that Atem realized just how much Seth's death had affected others beside himself. He clasped Yugi's hand, broadcasting peace and serenity across their mental link.

Yugi smiled. "Hey, save some of that for yourself."

There was a knock on the kitchen door.

"Come in," Yugi called, putting down his spoon.

There was a pause, then Seto Kaiba appeared in the doorway. He too had showered and changed, forsaking his usual trench-coat for a well-tailored business suit.

"Yugi," he said by way of greeting, but his eyes were focused on Atem.

"I go by Yami now," Atem replied.

Kaiba nodded. "Dark. An interesting choice."

Atem shrugged. "It suits me."

There was an awkward silence. Kaiba broke it first. "I told them that Seth was a long-lost cousin. He was living in Egypt when he learned of our connection and decided to visit. The assailant took him for me." He shrugged. "I had a few records falsified; the story should hold up to some scrutiny."

"A cousin?" Atem asked. "He could have been your twin."

"Would you rather I made him some kind of fan-boy who got a kick out of playing dress-up?" Kaiba snapped. "Or maybe you'd prefer he was a bodyguard whose job was to get shot instead of me?"

Atem's eyes narrowed, but before he could cause serious damage, Yugi intervened.

"I think Yami was just saying that you looked a lot alike," he said. "Won't people wonder about that?"

Kaiba snorted. "A strong family resemblance. People will believe anything you tell them. The idea of a long-lost cousin will give the papers something to chew over for awhile. It will also keep my name in the spotlight, which is good for business."

Atem didn't trust himself to speak. Kaiba apparently noticed, because he turned to go. "I just thought I'd tell you, so you know what to expect." He paused in the doorway. Turned back.

"Yami," he said. Hesitated. "I'm sorry for what happened. If there's anything you need…"

"Thank you, Kaiba," Atem said, a trifle stiffly. "I will remember that."

Kaiba paused again. When he spoke, his voice was barely audible. "The peace of the gods be with you." Then he was gone.

That night, Atem dreamed of dragons. He stood upon the roof of the temple of Ra just before the dawn, clad in the garb of an ancient king. The Pharaoh could feel the weight of his grief settling upon him, even heavier than the weight of the gold crown atop his head. He stood with slumped shoulders and dull eyes, staring at the sleeping city below. A single tear trickled down his cheek.

Suddenly, he heard a roar. He looked up, caught a flash of wings. A pair of dragons somersaulted through the air, tumbling and gliding at intervals. One of them, slightly larger than the other, turned sharply, majestic wings sweeping the air aside. With a cry, it plummeted straight for the Pharaoh. At the very last moment, its wings flared, and it landing almost delicately on the roof beside him.

Hesitantly, Atem reached out a hand and stroked the dragon's hard scales. The dragon lowered its head. A pair of magnificent blue eyes met the Pharaoh's; a keen intelligence gleamed behind them.

"Seth," the Pharaoh murmured, entranced.

Wings shrouded him, shielding him in a protective embrace. Atem leaned into the dragon's side and felt a silent well of comfort and support. Tears now flowed thick and fast down the Pharaoh's face. He laid a hand on the dragon's serpentine neck.

The dragon still in the sky roared. She circled the silent pair on imposing wings, but did not land. It was a cry of longing, a cry of questioning: Will you return to me?

The dragon at Atem's side lifted its head to gaze up at her. Its wings unfurled slightly. Atem removed his hand from the creature's neckand stepped away.

"Go to her, Seth," he said.

The dragon touched his shoulder briefly with its muzzle, a salute and a farewell in one. Then it spread its wings and launched itself from the roof. Its triumphant roar shook the temple from roof to foundation. Atem could feel the vibrations through his feet, running up his body into his heart. With one last cry, the dragons sped east, disappearing into the horizon.

Atem lifted his head proudly, straightened his shoulders, and watched the sun rise.