Maybe in the end—

Maybe there isn't a reason for remembering.

Does there have to be?

Maybe the only reason they remember is because—

"That one. That's definitely us."

"Whaaat? I can see why you think it's you, I mean, your hair is ridiculous—but I don't know if that's me."

"Look at that faded bit behind this one, though, doesn't it look like the Dark Magician Girl? It's totally you—and hey, my hair is fine. It grows like this naturally."

Mana stuck her tongue out at him, but she was smiling, and so was he. She peeled up the piece of paper with the photo of the relief they were discussing, and squinted at it. She supposed he was right—it did look like her, a little bit. Granted, it was done in an Egyptian style, so everyone looked kind of the same, but yeah, that faded bit behind in the shape of a person had a distinctive hat, and it was too bright of a pink color to have been done by accident.

"Okay, so this one is definitely us," she said. "This is the first one we've found with us standing next to each other!"

She grabbed her scissors, humming as she began to carefully cut the relief out of the page, angling deftly around the curves until it was freed.

"This should go right in the middle," Atem said, taking it from her fingers and positioning it in the center of the first page of the brand new scrapbook.

It was a beautiful thing that Atem had bought from the craft store—the cover was a heavy leather, with delicate, leaf and vine like designs carved into edges, and a little clear plastic slip in the middle to add a photo, or a title. Atem had simply written, in his elegant and calligraphic style, Memories, and slid that paper inside the slip.

"What about this?" Mana said, grabbing another of the documents ordered from the college library. "That's the Blue Eyes! It must be Kisara."

"And the one underneath is Seth," Atem said, his eyes brightening. "Let's add it to his pile for when we get to his page.

He started to paw through the unsorted pages as Mana added her find to the top of Atem's neat stacks. His organizational skills were almost a little too persnickety for her tastes, but at least it kept things pretty tidy.

"Oh! This is—Karim, right?" Atem said, holding up another sheet. "It has the—the scales."

"Oh! It is!"

"Did he come back, with us, do you know? I'm never sure about everyone—"

"Yeah, yeah, we just don't see him a lot, remember? He's from your dad's law firm."

Atem laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound Mana had heard in ages.

"Oh, right! His name is...Abbud this time around, right?"

"Add him to the pile next to Shada's," Mana said, pointing. "I think I've found another one of Mahad."

Their voices tumbled over each other as they sifted through the piles of documents—more memories tumbled free from their lips and minds as they found new ones.

"This is a picture of wine flasks, not any of our friends."

"But remember, remember? We used to steal ones just like these and fill 'em up with flour to dump on Siamun!"

"Hey, look at this, isn't this the same style of vases we used to play hide and seek in?"

"Ooooh, I actually remember these—the honey cakes, they were so good! You think we could figure out how to recreate the recipe? I don't know if any recipe scrolls survived!"

"Isis used to scold us for climbing on that balcony, right? Or am I thinking of a different balcony?"

"Oh this diagram of the palace! I remember the whole thing—this is where Mahad used to go to write poetry when he thought I didn't know what he was doing!"

"And over here is where we took lessons, remember?"

"I remember climbing out the window in this corner a lot better, and leaving our illusions behind to sneak into town!"

They both looked at each other and laughed. The laughter grew more than either of them anticipated, and suddenly Atem was rolling onto his back with his arms wrapped around his stomach, and Mana was sliding down against the bed with tears in her eyes and her throat going sore from the laughter.

It took ages for the sounds to die down, and tiny giggles kept spurting from their throats in the silence.

Atem didn't get up right away, his eyes up on the ceiling. Mana leaned heavily into the side of her bed, still feeling tears in her eyes.

"I'm glad we're doing this," she whispered.

"Me too," Atem said back. "I feel like...like this is something I was waiting to do for a long time."

"What, the scrapbook?"

It lay open between them—after only a few hours of work, it was already crammed with things. Pages dedicated to each friend, the images carved out of reliefs that were certainly them, with pictures of vases and foods and other aesthetics cut out of books and internet pictures that reminded them of them. Card sleeves pasted inside so that the cards that matched them could be slipped into the spot, given center stage.

Atem shook his head.

"No, I mean, the scrapbook is fun—I'm really, really glad we're doing that. But I meant..."

He raised one hand up towards Mana's hanging light, splaying his fingers so that he blocked it from his eyes. It sent a shadow over his face, a strange design of spidery finger shadows.

"This," he whispered. "Just sitting here. With you. Safe, and happy, and everyone we care about in a good place. A safe, happy place where we can talk about all these memories and...and laugh."

His words sounded like they were echoing out of her own brain, and she was almost surprised that she wasn't the one saying them. She slid down against the side of the bed so that she was laying on her side, looking at him over the top of the scrapbook. He turned his own head towards her, and their eyes met.

"I feel the same way," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. "But I thought you never wanted to remember."

"Sometimes I thought so," he said. "But I think...it would hurt more not to. I didn't remember the second time I was back—and it hurt, a lot. I spent the whole time looking for those memories."

"But you wouldn't need them this time," she pointed out. "You were a lost soul then...this time you were born, and you grew up. You have new memories."

Atem shrugged helplessly.

"I don't know, then," he said. "I guess I just like to remember, now...I can change my mind, right?"

She nodded slightly, her cheek dragging against the carpet. She almost felt like closing her eyes. Falling asleep right there. Atem's eyes looked a little droopy too.

Then she sat up all at once, hands pressed into the carpet. His eyes opened the rest of the way, and he blinked at her in surprise.

"I think I know why we decided to remember," she said.

He blinked again, lips parting.

"Why?" he whispered.

She gestured at the mess around them, the scrapbook.

"This. I mean—it's like you said," she said. "We want...we wanted to be able to wake up from that nightmare. To be someplace where we were safe and happy and everyone we loved was okay. Where we could look back and laugh. And think happily about before."

She smiled at him, and felt something swelling up inside her. He was here, in front of her, alive. His eyes meeting hers, shining with life and wonder and she could barely stop the swell of love and joy all bubbling up inside her chest. She wanted to laugh. To jump up and run around and frolic and dance.

"Well, we made it," she said. "We made it to that safe happy place. And we wanted to remember, so that we could appreciate that we had finally made it. Our dream came true—wouldn't we want to remember that it had been a dream in the first place?"

He pushed up onto his elbow, head resting on his hand so that he could look up at her more easily. His eyes were sparkling with—what? The same joy she was feeling? Or maybe even...the same love?

"I think you nailed it," he said. "I really think...you nailed it."

Their eyes met—emerald to red.

Both of them alive. Both of them shining. The memories of how far they had come strewn on the floor between them.

"I love you a lot, Atem," she said.

"I love you too," he said back.

It was enough.

It was enough.

Maybe we remember because—

We want to be able to appreciate it.

All of it.

All of the sad times, the happy times, the joyful and sorrowful and angry and calm times. They were all enough, when we were together. They were all enough.

We remember because we love each other. And we want to be able to appreciate all of that love. From the past...

To the ever distant future.