One of the reviewers said there were some grammatical mistakes.. sorry about that. *sweatdrop* I try my best, but I've been out of school for a long time, so my grammar's probably rusty. At least I have a spellchecker..
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After hours of toiling, Ryou had come to an ineffable conclusion.
There simply was no way to play Solitaire with Duel Monsters cards.
He had been play-testing his little idea for hours after he had fixed himself a TV dinner. He tried assigning the different types of cards as different suits, tried using the attack points as their number - but it was hopeless.
Ryou sighed, gathering the cards he had spread across the coffee table up and shuffling them back into his deck. He always carried around his deck, composed of his favorite cards, on the off chance that by some miracle he suddenly got the courage to challenge one of his school-mates. He had collected the cards for some time now, since the character design and art on the cards intrigued him, and the rules were simple enough. Yet, he had never actually dueled with another living person, only in video and computer games based on Duel Monsters.
He knew plenty of people at Domino high school were avid players. He knew he could even potentially make a few friends - or even just one - if he took the risk. But every time he tried, words and courage failed him. He didn't even dare go near the crowded tables where duels were held during lunch. At least the spectacle made for a lot of empty tables, allowing him to eat in peace.
Peace and solitude.
When was the last time he had eaten a meal with another human being?
Oh, stop it, he thought to himself, lounging back on the futon in front of the television. He hated falling into self-pity. He knew he had a downright enviable existence - outside school, he had all the time in the world he wanted to do whatever he pleased. He had a house all to himself, no job to go to. No siblings to bother him, no parents to lord over him. He was certain most of his classmates would kill for a lifestyle such as his.
But would they, if it meant not being able to remember the last time he had a conversation with one of his peers...?
Ryou pushed his white bangs out of his face and glanced over to a clock. Spiraling into melancholy usually signaled that it was time for him to go to bed. His mind running on auto-pilot, he turned off the television, set out some water for the cat, and headed upstairs.
He was so out of it that all of his previous anxiety concerning the ring had been forgotten - he spotted it out of the corner of his eye, blinking in surprise. It was still on the floor, but now the ominous feeling it gave off was severely dulled. Maybe he was just too tired to be afraid, but as he stared at it, and that carved eye stared back, he started to get uneasy once again...
"That's it," he scowled slightly, fighting off his hesitation and leaning down to pick up the ring, scrutinizing it, "I'm not going to let you do this to me!" However, his attempt at sounding imposing had fallen rather, short thanks to his quavering voice. He sighed, realizing he was trying to threaten a piece of metal in the first place.
But at least he hadn't run out of the room and tripped over the cat this time. Ryou shook the ring slightly, listening to the pendulums clink together. Somehow, it didn't seem quite as terrifying as it had before. He tried to set it atop his dresser, propping it up against the wall, but it refused to stay upright. Besides, now that it wasn't freaking him out for no reason, he wanted to study the odd design.
Ryou ran his fingers over the cool surface of the ring, frowning and rubbing his index finger and thumb together as grime came off on them. The ring did look rather dull and old - maybe if it was cleaned up, it wouldn't look quite so ancient and potentially haunted.
He set out on a short expedition through the house, carrying the ring with him and looking for the metal polish-dash-cleaner he knew his father kept somewhere, which was suppose to take years off of jewelry. Rifling through the drawers in his father's bedroom, he finally located the small tub, along with other assorted knickknacks. The ingredients in hand, he headed down to the kitchen to pour the polish mixture into a bowl with some water, got a wash rag, and set to work cleaning off the old ring.
The difference was immediately noticeable. The polish worked rather well, revealing a gleaming, golden surface hidden beneath the layers of age and grime with minimal effort. Within only a few minutes, he had finished the entire ring, making each of its pendulums and every nook and cranny of the stylized eye shine as though it were new.
Ryou stood back, smiling slightly at his accomplishment. The ring certainly looked better now, and he might have even called it pretty if he hadn't been a somewhat self-conscious teenage boy. He glanced over at the other item he had brought with him - a long length of leather cord. With that loop at the top, the ring all but begged to be hung up on something. He strung the cord through the loop and tied it securely, lifting it up to test its weight and strength.
It was perfect. Part of him even wanted to set the cord around his neck and wear the ring as a ridiculously oversized pendant, and he shook his head at himself. Was this the same thing he was too terrified of to simply touch only hours ago? Ryou felt downright silly about that now. It was a nice ring, and certainly the best thing his father had given him. Instead of making him feel edgy, the slight presence the ring seemed to have was almost... comforting.
In some small way, he didn't feel quite so alone anymore.
He put his materials way, and took the ring upstairs with him. When he tried to set it on the dresser this time, it sat in place without a fight. And he went to bed, with the eye watching him.
But this time, it almost felt like it was watching over him instead...
It had been a long time since the King of Thieves had tried to comfort a young boy. In fact, this was the likely first time he had even attempted.
And it would certainly be the last. It simply was not in his nature to trigger people's positive emotions, but it seemed much more effective than fear had been. He was going to free himself, no matter what that entailed - and if he had to appeal to the wishes of a lonely child to do that, so be it.
That didn't mean the boy wasn't still so pathetic it disgusted him, though. It was an insult that this boy was one of his descendants.
Or was it just that the boy reminded him of himself as a child that made him uneasy?
He dismissed the thought angrily. The boy's personality meant nothing. Soon it would be gone, and he would be nothing more than a shell, a vessel, and he was perfect for his purposes, really. The fact that few acknowledged the boy's existence only meant it would be easier for him to change or disappear, without anyone noticing or especially caring.
How he loathed to be saddled with such a weak spirit, though... taking him over wouldn't be much of a challenge at all. After countless centuries of being trapped, he had hoped for a more dramatic escape.
And besides, what was the fun in stealing something no one cared enough to miss?