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The feeling only grows as he feels Yami’s hand return the squeeze, and as they pull away from one another, there’s a genuine smile on both their faces, and simultaneously they turn to look out to the horizon once more, hand in hand, ready to tackle the future together.

Yami finally, finally looks over to him, and Yugi takes that opportunity to lean in, and press his lips against the other’s. The action is simple, chaste, and yet Yugi can’t help but feel that same strange sense of relieved, satisfied, something.

“Yami was born from darkness. He was brought into the light by you, Yugi.” His eyes open then, and there’s a slight weariness to them. “His story is not over yet.”

Yugi squeezes the hand in his and nods. “Yami.”

“Atem was born long ago. He sacrificed himself for his people. And he died with the burial of the Millennium Puzzle.” There’s a brief silence, before Atem speaks again.

“Atem–”

“Yami.”

Yugi turns to look at Atem then, and finds the other’s eyes are still closed. He feels Atem’s hand shaking slightly against his own.

There’s an immediate sense of… something. Yugi’s not sure if it’s relief or satisfaction or what, but feeling Atem’s hand over his comforts him some. He wonders if Atem feels it too. Wordlessly, Yugi gently flips his hand over, so their palms are pressed together and their fingers interlock.

They’re quiet again, and Yugi turns his gaze to look at the horizon as well, when he feels Atem’s hand slowly slide over top his.

Yugi’s eyes widen at his words, and he too, shifts. He too, moves so that his palms rest on the railing, his gaze fixed on Atem. “…Neither can I.”

“I couldn’t stand the disconnect we had while in my memories. Couldn’t stand it while we dueled each other.” He swallows then, before allowing his eyes to close. “I can’t stand the emptiness.”

“I’m grateful for this life.” Red eyes are lidded as they gaze out to the horizon, “I’m grateful for every step, every breath I take. But I don’t like not knowing what you’re thinking.” Atem admits.

Yugi looks at him, and there’s a dry smile on Atem’s lips. One of the ex-pharaoh’s hands reaches up to run through his own hair, and he laughs a sort of sad, strangled laugh that leaves Yugi confused.

Again, silence. Yugi’s lips curl inward as he thinks of what to say, of how to filter his rampant thoughts into something coherent, something Atem would understand. Before he gets the chance, Atem speaks again.

“I hate that I have to ask that.”

Atem shakes his head, and lowers his gaze out to the horizon. “In this moment.”

Silence settles between them again, until Atem shifts, unfolding his arms and resting his hands flat on the rounded metal of the railing. “What are your thoughts?”

“Of everything?” Yugi asks as he looks to Atem, the question pulling him out of his mental stewing.

“It’s not just that…” Yugi murmurs, his voice trailing off as he tries to mentally decipher his thoughts, tries to make sense of what he wants to say, of what Atem would have just felt had they still shared a body.

Again, Yugi blinks, before looking back up to the sky, a faint tint of red on his face as he realizes he’d been caught staring.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Chuckles Atem. Yugi blinks and looks to Atem’s face, his red eyes still staring up into the sky, “I can’t quite grasp the fact either.”

Both their arms are folded, resting against the boat’s railing as Atem continues to look up at the sky, and Yugi continues to discreetly stare at Atem, still in muted awe of his new body.