Oh holy crap. This truly is it....this is the last chapter of this story. After three years, after many writer's blocks and edits, after many file losses and computer breakdowns, this story will finally have the "Complete" status. I never thought this day would come...but it has. I might come back through this chapter and flesh it out a little more, but for now here it is.

Thank you to every single one of my reviewers who followed this story and fed me with praises and helpful criticisms; if it hadn't been for you, I would have given up on this a long time ago. You all were so patient with me and my ridiculously slow updates, and words can't express how truly grateful I am that you've done that.

One final note of the story: Misa appears in my oneshot, "Surprise," as well as making several appearances in "Come Together."

With that said, you may read.

The whole business with Akira had pretty much been settled the day after everything had happened.

In the first place, it had been established that Akira was dead. There was no doubt about that, but it did not mean that there might be more to it. The night after the battle with Zorc, Atem and Bakura had searched through the rubble for the remaining Millennium Items. They had not found one of them, which told Atem that they had gone somewhere else; they weren't underground because Atem and Bakura still had their Items.

They also could not conclusively prove that Zorc was dead. It made both of the Egyptians uncomfortable, but it could not be helped. If Zorc was alive, though, it would be a while yet before he would regain his strength and by that point Atem would simply step in and stop Zorc from regaining his full power.

Much to Yugi's surprise, the police did not come to interrogate him or any of Yugi's friends; though the people they had rescued had positively identified them, a mysterious phone call to the police station told the police that Yugi and his friends had only been in the right place at the right time. The caller also told the police that Yugi was not responsible for what had happened on the roof (which was true to an extent—Atem had been the one who had initiated that final Shadow Game).

Yugi had a pretty good idea that Dartz had been behind that call, but he also understood that the man would not show up for a while yet, if ever. Whether or not that choice had something to do with the bikers was not known, but Yugi had not heard from Dartz or seen him since that night at Akira's lair.

After that first day, though, Yugi and his friends were finally able to enjoy the break in their own and various ways.

"…Astrologers are scrambling to figure out why we had an unpredicted meteor shower three evenings ago—"

Click.

"Police are still baffled by the events that occurred three days ago at an abandoned corporate building. The old Paradius building—formerly belonging to one Tsukasa Akira—was seen with a dark cloud around its tower before abruptly bursting into flame and collapsing. As of today, no casualties have been reported—"

Click.

"—has also been mention of monsters running rampant at the scene, but since then no contact has been reported. The non-police participants of that night refused to divulge their identities, but agreed to give the police a brief explanation. Tune in for—"

Click.

"Tsukasa Akira was believed to have died in the flames, as claimed by our anonymous source, but if he had survived he would have faced criminal charges—"

"Oh for crying out loud," snapped Noa, turning the television off and dropping the remote on the couch. "Could they stop going on about that? It happened three days ago, and they're acting like it's the end of the world."

Seto rolled his eyes but didn't look away from his computer screen. "A building blows up with no apparent reason, a dark cloud of evil not-niceness hangs over the building, monsters run rampant in the area, and the owner of the building has not been seen since. You do the math. We could be seeing this for weeks, if not months."

The three brothers were assembled in Seto's home office, simply relaxing; Seto was finishing up a few last minute documents from work, Mokuba was playing a game on his Game Boy, and Noa had been watching the television until a few moments before. The Kaibas were just grateful for the break and planning on doing nothing further until they were sufficiently rested.

Roland and his nephew, along with the rest of the Kaiba Corporation employees, had been allowed to leave early on their Christmas break; Thomas had gone home for the break but promised to be back by New Year's Day, while Roland stayed with his own family in town. Seto himself was merely finishing up the last of the year's paperwork before he would go on his own break and not touch his laptop again.

Mokuba looked up from the video game he was playing. "Seto, I noticed we haven't appeared in the news, except to confirm that you're…well, alive," he said, referring to the press conference that Seto had called together the day after the events at Akira's lair. It had been necessary to deny Kaiba Corporation involvement with the Orichalcos soldiers once again. "It's weird. I thought someone would have seen at least one of us or identified us."

The brunette actually looked away from his computer at that comment. "That's because no one has quite figured out that we were there at all; we hung back away from the police when Roland took us there, just to avoid them. Even if they do figure it out, it's not as if I'm going to tell them the whole truth: would anyone believe anything we said about what happened on the roof?"

This was also true. Though the press conference had been necessary, Seto and his brothers had stayed out of the spotlight as much as possible; aside from Seto anonymously sending the documents to the police that he'd downloaded from Akira's mainframe to convict the man, they'd not done anything that related to Akira since that night.

"So…has anyone barged down Yugi's door to figure out what is going on?" asked Noa curiously. "Kinda hard to miss a guy with that kind of hair, even in that crowd."

"Not to my express knowledge. If they have talked to the police, then we should see it on the news fairly soon," Seto replied. "It's doubtful they will do that—Yugi never was one for the spotlight, let alone half his friends, and I'm sure that even the mutt doesn't want publicity over this."

"And what about Alister and his friends?" the raven-haired Kaiba asked. He'd been harboring a small amount of concern for the three, since they had been involved with the whole ordeal longer than any of them had. "Has anyone bothered them about what happened?"

"The hospital their friend—Valon, right?—is at did tell the police that several people were injured," said Seto. "However, we can thank doctor-patient confidentiality for keeping all injured persons identities' a secret. Concerning Alister, it's to my understanding that he's told the basic truth about Valon's injuries: that he was beaten nigh unto death."

Noa frowned. "How'd you know that? Did you go over there and see them?"

Seto merely smirked in reply, dipping his head to his laptop expectantly. After a moment, the shorter Kaiba got the message and slapped his forehead. "Right, I forgot. I'm talking to someone who likes to hack into places he shouldn't be."

The brunette, still smirking, rose to his feet after putting away his laptop and pulling the pages from he'd printed out from the printer. He set the papers in his briefcase and then set the briefcase on the floor by his desk. "My work here is done," he announced. "Now, Mokuba, I do believe you wanted to do something about decorating the mansion in time for Christmas Eve—it seems that I now have the time to do that."

The child instantly put his game down, blue-gray eyes widening in excitement. "Really? Seto, you mean that?" he asked breathlessly.

"I had the impression that I generally mean what I say," said Seto flatly, his blue eyes amused. He winced as one of the injuries on his chest flared briefly, but ignored it. "Let's just get up what we can before the end of today. I don't prefer to put up an inordinate amount of decorations just to take it down after Christmas."

Noa sidled innocently toward the door. "You two have fun. I'll just take my crippled self out of here and—"

"Crippled my foot. I'm hurt worse than you are," said Seto sardonically, catching the mint-haired Kaiba's shirt collar and dragging him backward. "Now come on, Gimpy. We're decorating."

"Can I exercise my First Amendment rights?" asked Noa, futilely trying to tug himself free from the brunette.

"In this house there is a dictatorship. You have no rights."

Mokuba giggled into his hands at the banter passing in between his older brother and his stepbrother, following after them as they left the room. It seemed things had once more returned to normal, despite the injuries sustained.

Noa looked back at the black haired child and scoffed. "And what's so funny, mister?" he asked, freeing himself at last from Seto. "I'm not doing anything one armed and you can't—OUCH!"

Seto had grabbed Noa's ear as the boy had tried to leave, keeping his grip on it as he continued forward. Ignoring the younger Kaiba's squawks of painful protest, the brunette looked to Mokuba and said, "Let's get to work."

Mokuba nodded happily, practically bouncing out of the room. Noa was released, and after trying once more to escape (in which Seto caught him by the hair this time) the shorter teen gave up and followed after the child, muttering under his breath all the way.

Seto allowed a tiny smile on his face as he followed after his brothers. It seemed that life had settled down for them, and things were back to normal.

…As normal as anything ever was involving them, anyway.

"Aw, c'mon! 'm feelin' better!"

"No."

"Pleaaase? 'm goin' mad sittin' in this bed 'n' doin' nothin'!"

Alister looked at his younger companion, shaking his head in exasperation. "Three days ago you were on Death's Door. You honestly expect the doctors to let you out just because you say so?" he asked.

Valon looked back at him. "Please, Alister? I'll stay nice 'n' quiet on the couch and munch on 'tato chips. 'eck, I'll even be nice t' ya, if you just lemme come 'ome!" the teenager exclaimed. "The nurses keep proddin' me 'wake at early 'ours of th' mornin' to get m' temperature and what-not. It's 'nough t' drive a body mad!"

"Not my call, Valon," said Alister flatly.

The teen folded his good arm across his chest and pouted. "I really don' wanna celebrate Christmas Eve in th' 'ospital," he grumbled, stifling a cough.

Alister handed him a glass of water mutely, regarding the younger biker thoughtfully. Certainly, the brunette looked much better than he had three days ago; after being admitted the boy had slept for a day and a half, not rousing even when the nurses came in. Since he'd arrived, though, his health had taken a turn for the better and already some of the worse injuries were halfway closed; all that really lingered was the lung infection, the broken arm, and bruises and cuts of moderate severity.

Emotionally, it seemed that he was no worse for the wear from the ordeal. However, any mention of Akira caused Valon's cheerful blue eyes to darken and a scowl would fix itself on his face. "The bloke c'n rot f'r all I care," he had said darkly when the subject had been first been brought up.

Raphael had disappeared earlier in the day, claiming that there were a few errands he needed to run. The teenager had been asleep when Raphael had left, and Alister ended up watching CSI reruns on the room's television until the boy had woken up.

Valon set the now-empty glass down before looking at the red-haired biker. "'ey, Alister? 'ave you found Misa yet?"

Alister shook his head. "I'm afraid not," he replied, keeping the heaviness from his voice.

Much to all three biker's dismay, the small but friendly kitten that Valon had brought home with him several months ago had vanished without a trace; Alister and Raphael both suspected the feline had fled the house when Akira's men had ambushed them there. Alister had been around the neighborhood and let the neighbors know about the missing cat, but he hadn't kept his hopes up about her. They might have noticed sooner that she hadn't been around, but Valon and the events of three days previous had driven Misa from their minds.

There was a knock at the door, followed by it opening and a familiar figure slipping into the room. "I never realized how hard it was to do things one-armed," said Raphael in annoyance, glancing down at the sling that kept his injured shoulder immobile.

"'allo, Raph!" chirped Valon cheerfully, a broad grin stretching his face. "Been wonderin' where you went off to."

The older blonde pulled the door to a semi-closed position behind him before using his good hand to brush a few stray snowflakes from his shoulder. "I had to do some last minute errands," he replied. "I also had to talk to the doctors about something."

"Can I go 'ome?" asked Valon earnestly, blue eyes hopeful. "I'll stay still as a mouse. I swear! Jus' lemme 'ome!"

Raphael raised an eyebrow. "I take it you're bored?" he asked, though he knew the real reason well enough. "Don't worry about it. As long as you're quiet and you stay in bed at the house, the doctors say you can come home tonight."

Valon grinned widely and pumped his good arm into the air. "Yes!" he crowed. "I'll be free! Free, I tell ya!" he said, beginning to cackle madly.

"What part of, 'stay quiet' didn't you understand?" asked Alister irritably, but Raphael noticed that the other biker's eyes were relieved. Raphael himself was happy—not one of the three preferred being in the hospital longer than necessary.

A nurse's startled cry caused them to jump, and all three bikers looked at the door. Alister and Raphael tensed, wondering just what on earth could possibly happen now. Hadn't they been through enough already?

Several doctor's voices joined together, yelling something incoherent, and Alister frowned. He moved for the door, deciding to shut it and muffle the commotion outside the room.

Before he could, though, a small blur came through the door, leaving a muddy trail of pawprints behind it; startled, Alister shut the door all the way. The creature made a beeline for Raphael first, weaving in and out of his legs and rubbing against them affectionately. It repeated the process with Alister before leaping to the bed. It settled on Valon's lap and began to purr moments later, confirming that it was a cat.

"…Either of you two know what's going on?" asked Alister at last.

On a sudden hunch Raphael went to the bed and picked up the feline, holding it out at arm's length to inspect it. It was damp, its fur weighed down by wet or still drying mud; it was also thin, but not to the point of unhealthiness. A familiar pair of green eyes looked at him from beneath the mud and grime, and the blonde let out a disbelieving laugh. "Misa?"

Misa meowed loudly, her purring audible to the other bikers. Raphael had no idea where the cat had been or how she had gotten past everyone in the hospital (or even how she knew where the three of them were to begin with), but she was here now, letting them know she was happy to see them again. Raphael set her back on the bed, wiping his hands on a hand towel.

Valon's eyes lit up in delight and he reached for her, uncaring of how dirty Misa was. "There ya are, you crazy cat! We were wonderin' what 'appened t' ya!" he said happily, using his unbandaged arm to pet the feline. Misa soaked up the attention, purring madly all the while and closing her eyes contentedly.

Alister and Raphael exchanged amused glances before looking at Valon and Misa; it seemed that everything was on its way to being normal again, and after all the chaos of the past two weeks it was a welcome change.

At length, Alister said flatly, "If anyone asks, we didn't see a cat come in here and we've gone temporarily blind."

Raphael's eyebrow arched, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.. "What cat?"

"A-A…ACHOO!"

Ryou winced, handing Bakura another box of tissues as he said, "God bless you."

Bakura sniffled, huddling miserably in the thick blanket on the sofa and peering out at the world through a small opening in the blanket. "Stupid abysmal snow…" he muttered, glaring balefully at the white snow gently falling outside.

Seeing how as Bakura was the only one of the group that hadn't worn clothing to protect him from the cold, the Egyptian had caught a cold that had manifested yesterday morning. Since then, the silver-haired thief had been sitting on the sofa, alternating between cursing the Pharaoh ("How dare that self-righteous—achoo!—king drag me into his mess?!"), Akira ("He better be glad he's dead, because if he was alive I'd—achoo!—make him die a painfully slow and miserable death!"), and the snow.

Which, judging by how many snot-filled tissues were on the floor, was going to happen just about—

Bakura rose to his feet and pointed dramatically at the window. "I WILL defeat you one day, you fiend! Just you wait!" he snarled, the effect of his threat lost as he sneezed violently and dove under the blanket again.

Ryou sighed, getting to his feet and gingerly picking up the crumpled tissues on the floor. "Could you at least try to throw away the tissue when you use it?" asked Ryou tiredly, placing the tissues in the trashcan and then setting the basket near his counterpart.

Bakura scowled, sniffling again before deliberately dropping the tissue on the ground. "We never used such things back in my time," he snapped, hissing as one of his injuries throbbed in protest.

"That was then," said Ryou firmly, picking up the tissue and holding it out to Bakura. "This is now. Please throw them away."

Bakura raised an eyebrow as he took the tissue back from Ryou. "You've grown a backbone, descendent," he remarked, dropping his tissue into the wastebasket.

Ryou blinked in surprise. "What?"

"When I was around here initially I was able to push you around all the time. It seems you're finally pushing back," said the tomb raider, not looking at his look-alike.

"…Did you just compliment me?"

"You're still as weak as ever, though, so don't get any big ideas," said Bakura, scowling at Ryou. "I'm still the boss around here!"

Ryou smiled. "I'm going to guess and say that you did just compliment me."

The silver haired Egyptian's scowl deepened and he looked away. "Believe what you want, mortal."

Ryou's smile grew, and he went into the kitchen to make some hot cocoa. Bakura's scowl did not fade until the other boy was safely out of sight, at which point a thoughtful frown appeared on his features.

Since that night with Akira, he and the Pharaoh had been discussing the fate of the five remaining Millennium Items intermittently. They'd been to the wreckage of the former Paradius headquarters—which was also the source of his cold—and used the Millennium Ring to search through the rubble and twisted metal. Their search had been futile; not one Item remained in the area.

This meant that either the Items had returned to their original location, deep beneath the earth (both of the Egyptians doubted this was the case, seeing how as they both still had their own Items), or they had returned to their former owners; after everyone had sufficiently recovered from what had happened, the Pharaoh would get in touch with the Ishtars and Pegasus.

No one was sure how to get a hold of Shadi, and to be honest Bakura did not want to see that man. But since they had no one else who knew more about the Items, it seemed that they would have to try and find the enigmatic Egyptian as soon as was humanly possible.

Ryou returned to the room, prompting Bakura to replace his scowl. He took the offered mug from his counterpart with a frown. "What on earth is that?" Bakura asked, eyeing the brown liquid with distaste.

"Hot cocoa. It's good, it'll warm you right up," said Ryou, taking an experimental sip from the drink.

Bakura eyed it a little longer before saying "Bottoms up," and taking a big gulp of the beverage.

…There is a reason we call it "HOT cocoa."

In retrospect, Ryou probably should have warned Bakura that the drink was going to be hot. But he, like all of us in this timeframe, know that the drink is supposed to be warm. Poor Bakura did not.

The thief choked on the liquid and yelped, managing to set the mug on the coffee table without spilling the drink and fanning cool air into his scorched mouth. He tried to get it to go down into his scalded throat with no success. "Hot…dear Ra that was hot," he gasped. "Wretched drink! It burned me!"

Ryou sighed, going for the paper towels to mop up the brown spots on the carpet. Although he was glad that he had someone in the house again to talk to, he had a sinking feeling that Bakura-related messes were in his immediate future.

Yugi frowned, tilting his head curiously at the tinsel. "Maybe a little higher and further to the left, Grampa," he said thoughtfully. "It's uneven."

From the ladder, Mr. Mutou did the necessary adjustment and then said, "I should have you doing this. I'm such an old man…whatever happened to 'respect your elders'?"

Yugi laughed. "Grampa, you climbed up there first. I would have done it, but you beat me to the punch."

The elderly man shook his head ruefully. "I should have done all of this a couple of days ago, but things around here got hectic in a tearing hurry," he stated.

Yugi nodded in agreement, resuming his previous task of dusting the glass counter off. "How are you doing with the vacuum, Atem?"

"I finished," said the Egyptian, leaning against the doorframe with an amused expression on his face.

The Mutous had figured on cleaning and dusting everything off before they settled down for Christmas Eve, so that they wouldn't have as much to clean when the holiday was over. Besides, the shop was supposed to have been cleaned last week, and they simply could not put it off any longer.

Atem's skin had remained its rich tan hue, much to everyone's surprise (including Atem himself); they had expected it to be temporary, but it seemed likely that the change was permanent. Atem, though surprised, was secretly pleased about it—he knew his heritage, and now he had proof to back it up.

Like their other friends, the Mutous and Atem had not done anything relating to Akira since the events of three days ago; they had been content relaxing and recovering from what had happened. Atem had said that they needed to find out about the other Millennium Item holders and see if they had gotten the Items back, but they also decided to wait and relax for just a bit. Their friends were grateful for the break, too.

Jounouchi had found out that his mother and sister had extended an invitation to spend Christmas with them in the neighboring city. He'd been ecstatic when he had found out, and after telling Honda and Otogi that his sister was not up for grabs (which was said more from habit than anything else) he had left the afternoon after the events at Akira's lair.

Anzu and Honda were spending Christmas with their own families; Anzu was still in town, while Honda had left yesterday morning and would not return until sometime after New Year's Day. Otogi was still in town, but he hadn't told anyone what his Christmas plans were and no one was sure where the raven haired CEO lived.

Ryou and Bakura were also in town and had originally intended to come over (much to Bakura's horror) on Christmas Day, but the thief had caught a cold at the last second which kept them immobile; Ryou promised he'd try and visit, "when I'm certain that Bakura won't burn the house down."

Seto had already made it clear that Yugi wasn't to bother him during the break: "I've filled my quota of Dweeb Patrol interaction."

This left Yugi, Atem, and Mr. Mutou by themselves for at least tonight and tomorrow; Anzu had promised to drop by the day after Christmas and Jounouchi had mentioned calling them sometime tomorrow. Honda had also promised to bring back a few souvenirs from where he was vacationing, and Otogi had mentioned something about a New Year's Eve Party at the Black Crown Arcade; Otogi would open it only for Yugi and his friends for New Year's.

Mr. Mutou carefully climbed down the ladder, picking it up as he touched the floor. "I'll go put this away," he said cheerfully.

"Be careful, Siamun," Atem warned, remembering how easy it was for Yugi's grandfather to hurt his back.

Mr. Mutou stopped what he was doing and looked to the Egyptian in confusion. "I've been called a lot of things, but I have to admit that isn't one of them," he said with a thoughtful look on his face.

Too late, Atem realized his mistake and flushed. "My apologies, Solomon. It's just—"

"It's all right," said Mr. Mutou simply, leaning the ladder against the inner wall of the closet. He closed it before turning to Atem. "Siamun does sound like Solomon…I don't mind if that slips up occasionally."

The former Pharaoh smiled gratefully at the older man but said nothing further.

They spent a few more minutes in the shop, straightening things out and cleaning all the surfaces, before Mr. Mutou declared that everything was okay to go and they could take a break. Yugi and his grandfather disappeared into the back of the shop, talking about decorating the Christmas tree upstairs, but Atem lingered behind for a moment.

The slip-up on Solomon's name had been out of habit; like his descendent, he too had someone who was like a grandfather to him and even looked similar to Solomon himself. Remembering that much had brought up memories of his past life and of those who had been in the afterlife with him, and it had hurt when he had realized that those people were not here any longer.

But when he thought about his past and then remembered where he was, Atem couldn't honestly say that he wanted to go back there. What had happened in the past was the past, and it really hadn't been much of one; he'd been killed not even a year after he had been on the throne.

Atem was being given a second chance at life—and he was going to take it.

Yugi's head came from around the corner of the doorway. "Come on, Atem. We're going to get started on decorating the tree here in a little bit. You don't want to miss out on that!" he said cheerfully, grinning broadly.

Atem hesitated a moment longer before he took a step forward. "I'm coming, Yugi," he said, a smile on his face.

With a sneer, the figure grasped the golden stem of the Millennium Rod and lifted it easily from the rocks it was caught between.

He'd seen a snatch of the battle between the Pharaoh and Zorc Necrophades, but he hardly cared about all that drama. No, he was far more interested about the other five Millennium Items that this Akira had collected. And true, most of them had scattered to the wind and most likely ended up back with their proper owners.

But he'd called to the Millennium Rod. He'd made sure to separate the Rod from the rest of the Items as they had started to scatter, and now he had it in his grasp once again. He could see his face in the reflection of the golden Rod, and a wicked, chilling smile stretched itself across his face as he looked down at it.

He looked around at the twisted metal and the rubble, realizing that he was where the battle had taken place; when he had called to the Millennium Rod it must have pulled him out from the shadows and back into the living world.

What a fitting place to be reborn.

He rose to his feet, the Millennium Rod clutched tightly in his grasp. A part of his blonde hair fell into his face, but he did not bother about brushing it away. He stumbled slightly, still unused to walking by himself after being trapped in the darkness for so long, but he hardly cared about that. He didn't care at all about the snow on the ground, since his dark cloak protected him from the cold.

He would wait. He was patient, he could wait until he was at full power again…and then, he would strike. He would fight the Pharaoh again, and he would beat him this time. Then he would go after his traitorous lighter half and his family—or maybe he would visit them first.

He turned to face the rubble once again and sneered at it before he walked forward, beginning to head for the twinkling lights of the city.

"Look out, Pharaoh," said Yami Marik wickedly. "I'm back."