«Solitaire »

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He sat down with a pack of cards, carefully placing each of the seven rows down evenly, stacking them according to the rules of the game. The rest of the cards were placed in a stack, ready to be drawn and placed. Whenever he encountered an ace, he set it aside and watched the other cards pile on it, although it had to be very precise, every single card needed to be in order.

For reasons he couldn't explain, not even to himself, he always have loved playing solitaire.

Maybe it was the sheer precising needed for the game that drew him to it, or perhaps it was it's uncanny resemblance to real life. Whatever the reason may be, it didn't stop him from pondering hours on the game.

Every single card needed to be played, even one missing could cause the game to crumble and fall. Every single move needed to be without flaw, one mistake and you'd be stopped in your tracks, wondering where you went wrong.

And yet there were so many possiblities, every time a card was shifted to another row, another possibility opens. Some times it was a disappointment, for the new possibility was not always promising. Leaving him to wonder with road to take. Neither one promises the win of the game, but a move had to be played.

To counter, if he was truely not ready to make a move within the rows, he could turn to the stack and draw out another possibility, if that fails, well, he had the entire deck to go through.

Wheather in games or life, it all comes down to making the right choice, one wrong step and it could bring the end. If you managed to take the right path, breath and give a sigh of relief, and continue on. There are so many more plays until the end. Go ahead, stagger on.

He ran a hand through his silvery-white hair, lines between his brows are deep, buryed in though. He knew he shouldn't have removed the jack. It's too late now, you can't take the past and change it. You have to go on. It reminded him of the real situation he was in. He has too many regrets to speak of now, all caused by one fatal mistake in his past.

But he continued regardless, and found hope. Although scars of the mistakes still run deep, many of them have been remedied by his new choices, even if not all of them were without a price.

Right now, the game was facing a wall, a dead end. His brows digged even further as he went through the deck, occasionly placing a card above the aces, looking for a key, an opening out of the box. His eyes seemed blurred as he looked through the deck. Searching for the diamond in the dirt, the ray of hope through ultimate darkness.

It will take a while, for him, he took the time of 3,000 years to cover up his scars, and begin again. It took the time of 3,000 years to find light in the dark, the justice in dismay, the end of the maze.

His eyes stopped, looking down at the card that was face up next to the deck. That was it, the key to the puzzle, answers to the questions. Once he lays this card down in a certain row, the waters will flow again, and he would continue on setting, finding, and revealing the cards.

But had he won yet? No, of course not. The deck, though it has few cards, must be drained. The aces, which were no longer visible, were still waiting for the comerades to join them. The neatly stack rows, though fewer than they first began, has still not narrowed down the the final four. He had simply played a card that would let the game continue, whether to win or lose is anyone's guess.

But his actions became quicker and smoother now, he was reaching the end of the game and he knew it, he would win. It's just a matter of time now, before the cards were in order and before they were placed on top of the aces.

Sometimes it was frustrating and pointless to stack every single card, but for Bakura, he enjoyed it. He enjoyed the sweet taste of winning, no matter what the game was, even if it was a simple game of solitaire, where he wasn't even competing against anyone, just the cards and himself.

That's what his life of 3,000 years have been, really. There was no one to fight in the darkness, only himself. When you were stuck, frozen in time for such a long period, there were no other factors to speak of, beside yourself. You can't break down and give up, or give in when thigs get tough. It was simply not done, even if the most you could do was fumble around to trip and fall, but even if you do fall, you have to get up again.

He placed the last king carefully on top of the queen. There we go. He's done it, beaten the game and outsmarted the cards. He picked up all the cards and shuffled them over and over again, getting ready to deal and start it all over again.

That, was a big fence between the game and life. If you fail at the game, you can just pick it up and start over. If you fail at life, well, you just fail and there will be no more chances for you. That, is the ultimate rule of the real world.

But Bakura had never been one to follow rules...

And he never did this time...

He had jumped out of the jaws of defeat more than once...

Defied and tricked death more than once...

In a nutshell, he just can't die...

As he says it, he is the shadows and the shadows never die...

So in a way, his so-called life was really a game...

Much like the one he loved playing...

Solitaire.

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