Description: Sequel to "He Won"… What if our dear Pharaoh was able to continue watching Yugi after he was defeated?

There is a legend, in the school. Of a Yu-Gi-Oh. The Yu-Gi-Oh.

King of Games.

Master of Tricks.

It was Fate's irony; the name which had once stood for both of them fell into disuse, until it was at last forgotten. Unremembered, it was not uttered, save by the little one. When no one was there to hear him cry out to his other self. No one to hear the soulful lament. No one but other Yugi, powerless to stay and not reach out. Desperately unwilling to leave.

Saturdays were his favorite day. Crimson eyes would gleefully watch as Yu-Gi-Oh visited the children. And Challenge.

His eyes followed the students who swirlled around Mou Hitori no Ore. Watched silently as the older students found their heads dropping, diverting their eyes. Sometimes, the mighty Pharaoh would allow a tug at the corner of his lips.

Older students would whisper to new classmates, the Game Master comes. He challenges the best. One day he will challenge you.

Four years after this began, students who wished to graduate would sign up to duel him.

Ten years later, teachers were required to last 5 turns against him.

Twenty years passed, the Pharoah began to notice Mou Hitori no Ore was no longer fighting his hardest.

Thirty Years came and went. Still none came close. The Heart of the Cards were rarely touched, and only then to relieve anothers suffering.

Fourty Years. Aibou was weakening his deck, and still none could beat him.

Fifty. It was no longer a challenge. But theSaturdays continued.

Sixty. Hikari's vivid red, blond and black hair was fading. It's silver sheen reminded Atemu of the Tomb Robber.

Seventy. At least in the Puzzle time had no meaning. Ages passed with little change. But his beautiful Hikari changed.

Hands became knotted. Flesh paled. Veins tinted skin a bluish-green.

Seventy-six. A last gathering was called.

The world paid quiet homage to the passing of the last titans of duelling.

Mai, the eldest had been the first to join her cards. Her Harpy Ladies falling silent.

Jou had followed, unable to live without his wife, or the black-eyes he buried with her. The Flame Swordsman was never seen in a duel again.

Seto had passed just months before. Mokuba was left in charge. Some swore the rain that day helped the Blue-Eyes statues outside Kaiba corp shed tears.

The Heart of the Cards had set these apart. They had wished to follow their masters across the river.

Now Kuribo would join them. And the faithful Dark Magician.

The last legend was about to pass into myth.

A breath.

Another.

One final sigh.

Stillness.

The Judger-of-Souls gazed at the now-youthful Master. Weighing his deeds against the feather. Its deep voice echoed from the floor and skies. You have lost.

I have lost. A small voice echoed. Eyes turned to look beyond the gate. At his beloved.

But in the losing, I have finally won.