"Nekhten pta'at anu khetut sheshdet!"
The silver waters shivered at the cryptic words. A faint, blue light misted over the surface of the bowl.
The white-haired yami smirked. The mixture was reacting exactly as described.
The ancient Egyptian's eyes narrowed as he scoured over the remaining instructions. He mumbled random words to himself as he went through the lines.
"Salt of the Nile... reed of the hek'tah herb... sands of the red desert..."
He nodded as his gaze drew near the end of the list.
"Pour into a metal bowl... yes..."
The ancient manuscript was not easy to read- the pages had darkened and warped with centuries of wear. Still, the determined thief continued.
"A portion of the intended recipient... right." He quickly grabbed the red hairbrush sitting innocently on the edge of his bed. "This should do..." He carefully pulled out three long, white strands. He was just preparing to add them to the potion when there was a knock on the door.
"Bakura?"
'Shit!' The amateur alchemist jumped, nearly knocking over the still-glowing bowl. He quickly threw the bed covers over the mixture before getting up and moving towards the door. He leaned against the frame and spoke through the closed wooden barrier.
"What is it, hikari?" He forced his voice to sound as casual.
It had been several months since the yami's had returned to the mortal realm. In exchange for the Pharaoh's deeds and the other duelists' sufferings, the gods had 'gifted' the three yami's with bodies of their own. However, that 'offer' did present some problems- the most urgent of which was securing living accommodations.
After all, a physical person cannot live in someone else's mind... or jewelry. So the hikari's raced to find living quarters for their darker halves. Over time, each pair had devised some sort of arrangement. Malik and Marik managed to convince the other Ishtars that Marik was (for the most part) reformed. So the blonde duo easily settled under one roof. They had, after all, once been the same person.
Much to Ishizu's dismay- and Odion's stoic neutrality- they soon became very close. But the two older siblings relented once it was made clear that most of Marik's darkness had been banished. Of course, the bronze yami's base personality remained; which gave him a mischievous streak that blended dreadfully well with his partner's.
And nowadays it was Ishizu who was far more likely to dwell on murdering Marik- rather than the other way around.
Yugi and his darker half had also grown into a closer relationship. The elder Motou had eagerly welcomed the Pharaoh back into their home; and so the Egyptian ruler stayed with his hikari, almost exactly like before. The arrangement suited them nicely, and they soon escalated to romantic partners as well.
But despite the merging of the other pairs, things were a bit more... complicated for Ryou and his yami.
The Thief King never had a true 'home,' aside from his brief childhood. And frankly, the concept baffled him. The tomb robber wasn't exactly used to sharing his space; nor was he practiced in behaving (authentically) civil towards others.
Even his 'lighter half.'
At least Yami Yugi had been open with his host; often guiding and comforting the boy. But Yami Bakura had virtually no goodwill with the 'landlord' he had -repeatedly, and even painfully- used. Even when he was in the ring, he never really 'shared' Ryou's body with him. The dark duelist simply took over whenever he pleased.
Not exactly the best start to becoming first-class roommates.
Naturally, Yugi and his friends were all very surprised- and a little concerned- when their palest friend had agreed to look after the former scourge of Egypt. Ryou insisted that it was a temporary arrangement, meant to help the Thief King while he 'adjusted to modern living.'
Which was bull, of course. Bakura had spent years in Ryou's body. He knew enough about today's world to survive. Still, he decided it would be foolish not to take up the offer for free food and lodging while he searched for his own place. But then something rather unexpected had happened...
The voice on the other side of the door quickly brought Bakura back to his senses.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Bakura, but have you seen my red hairbrush? I think Malik might have borrowed it while he was here yesterday."
The thief quickly turned around and snatched the brush off the bed. He opened the door and handed the grooming tool to his hikari.
"Here."
Ryou looked as if he wanted to ask why his hairbrush was in Bakura's room, but then seemed to think better of it. "Riiight... thank you. Anyway, I'm going to get dinner started- I'm making stir-fry tonight. Would you like extra chicken with yours?"
The pale yami snorted, but it was in amusement, not derision. "You have to ask?"
Ryou chuckled as he closed the door. "Just checking!"
Though his hikari's footsteps had faded down the hall, the darker duelist continued leaning against the door frame. A rather pleased look took over his face.
Things were gradually growing more comfortable between the two of them. Bakura was slowly learning how to act like a grateful house-guest; rather than an arrogant parasite.
Of course, it did help that he was no longer possessed by a dark demon.
Being driven since childhood by the brutal monster Zorc, the sole survivor of Kul Elna had been dulled to nearly all emotion. The dark demon did not want his vessel distracted by petty, human inclinations such as 'sympathy' and 'romance.'
But now that Zorc was gone and Bakura was 'revived;' the notions of long-lost feelings had started to return.
He was still no angel; that much was very clear, but the tomb robber was definitely more human.
And he was starting to experience emotions that had long lain dormant in his demon-influenced form. Bakura was no longer blinded by Zorc's supernatural evils or his own obsessive vengeance. Slowly, he started to feel some rather unpleasant feelings- like remorse, and regret. He never verbally apologized to Ryou (or anyone else), but he did make an effort to act a little more civil and respectful towards his 'landlord.'
Ryou seemed grateful for these efforts, and things seemed to be smoothing out nicely for the two housemates.
But then came the more interesting emotions... over the next few months, Bakura began to notice things about his hikari that he never really noticed before. Such as how his cocoa-tinted eyes sparkled when he laughed; and how his shining hair was so much purer and softer than Bakura's own; and how his pale lips flushed whenever he made that adorable 'startled' face...
The painful-yet-somehow-pleasant feelings confused him to no end. Eventually the stubborn yami decided that these irritating feelings were related to that loathsome affliction that the Pharaoh called 'love.' (Malik had other words for it; however his terms were more vulgar than Bakura thought fitting).
Bakura detested the thought of being a slave to his new flesh, and devised a foolproof plan. He 'borrowed' a very old book from Ryou's father's many Egyptian artifacts, and found a spell that could clear up his dilemma. It was a charm-type spell, designed to forge a brief infatuation between the caster and the victim.
Bakura reasoned that he could use this enchantment to (temporarily) push Ryou into acting amorously towards him. This would make it easier for him sort through his muddled feelings and determine his real desires. If the thief was no longer attracted to the hikari, then he'd simply remove the spell and that would be that.
And if Bakura did still have these strange desires... well... he'd cross that bridge if he came to it.
After a few moments of lazy thought, the partially reformed outlaw turned back to his spell. All the other ingredients had been retrieved (stolen) from either Ryou's father's study, or the Domino Museum where Ishizu now worked.
"Then this should be the final step..." He uncovered the bowl and grabbed the silvery-strands lying on the bed. He dropped in the three, fine hairs and waited. The uncanny liquid soon bubbled and frothed. The thick waters swirled as they turned from silvery to pale blue to a rich red. Then they seemed to partially evaporate, and dispersed into a cerise fog that drifted towards the hallway.
Bakura flew up and ran to the door-frame to watch the vivid haze. The otherworldly mist quickly headed down the stairs towards its intended target.
Bakura gave a triumphant grin. 'Perfect- this should lead my dear little hikari into a passionate mind-set.'
No sooner than he completed the ritual, a loud cry rang throughout the home.
"Bakura!"
The thief blinked. That did not sound like the love-struck cry of an adoring admirer.
But he kept his voice unassuming as he replied back. "What?"
Ryou came marching up the stairs- his chocolate-colored eyes were partly narrowed and he looked rather peeved. "I just received a phone call from Mrs. Ishimoto- you know, the nice, old lady who lives down the street? The one who yelled at you last week for messing with her cat?"
The pale teen stopped only a foot from his yami's face. Bakura didn't flinch, but he listened with growing unease.
"And, oddly enough, she found something quite disturbing in her garden today." Ryou folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. Bakura tried not to look directly into his hikari's eyes. "Apparently, someone bought several boxes of condoms, unwrapped the so-called 'products,' and situated them on top of all the vegetables in her garden!"
The other duelist gave a dark chuckle and waved one hand in correction. "Tch, it wasn't every vegetable; we couldn't even get the tomatoes to- oh, bollocks." The yami halted when he saw the look on his hikari's face.
Ryou placed a palm over his forehead. "I see- and I'm assuming that 'we' includes a certain pair of blondes that frequently help you terrorize this neighborhood?"
"...possibly?"
The slender hikari sighed, but his expression turned oddly blank. "Did you take any pictures?"
The thief blinked in confusion. "What?"
"Did you or Malik take any pictures afterward?" His hikari's face suddenly grew a faint grin. "Because honestly, that must've been quite a display."
Bakura smirked. 'Hmm, seems like I'm finally rubbing off on him...' "I think Malik might've snapped one or two with his phone. Why, did you want to see the... fruits of our labor?"
His hikari gave a reserved nod. "I'll admit, it sounds really funny." Ryou's face turned more serious again. "But, you're still going over there to remove them- and dispose of any plants that were damaged and won't grow further." The morally-driven teen turned and headed back down the stairs, leaving his disappointed yami to ponder the whole ordeal.
'Great'. The former spirit frowned. 'I set up a love spell, and my hikari yells at me the moment it's cast.' Bakura snorted to himself. 'Hmm... but perhaps it takes a while to work... I'll keep a closer eye on him tonight...'
The rest of the yami's evening was spent watching carefully for any changes- but nothing, not a single bloody thing, seemed different.
Ryou was still acting like normal Ryou- he made Bakura wash the dishes, wouldn't let him eat only meat for supper, and even rebuked him when he tried to prank call the Pharaoh. ("Bakura, Japan doesn't even have an 'Illegal Egyptian-Immigrant Detention and Deportation Squad'!")
A few hours later, the ill-tempered thief was back in his room, cursing irritably. 'Stupid spell-book...' By now Bakura had imagined that the slender teen would be treating him like a flawless deity- listening dutifully whenever he spoke, making any meals he requested, waiting on him hand and foot... tch.
He put a finger to his chin in deep reflection. 'Maybe I shouldn't leave off just yet... the spell might take a full day to take effect... it's only been a few hours.'
A voice rang out from somewhere downstairs.
"Bakura, don't forget, you're getting up early tomorrow to go take all the condoms off of Mrs. Ishimoto's carrots and cucumbers!"
...screw it. He'd waited more than long enough.
The bad-tempered thief scowled to himself. 'I'll recast the damned spell- and this time, I'll double the ingredients!' The crimson-eyed yami felt something twinge in his chest. He paused for a moment, and his expression grew grim.
'Does my hikari really hate me so much... that it would take twice as much magic to make him care for me?' But the former spirit pushed the thought aside, grabbing the same bowl as before.
After quickly swiping another comb from the bathroom, Bakura set up the ceremony and repeated the steps. The reddish-mist once again drifted past the door and towards its mark.
Once more, the occult duelist eagerly awaited the results. The ancient magics of the old kingdom weren't like to fail twice.
...right?
Three hours later, Bakura was cursing under his breath as he angrily tore back the covers on the guest bed.
'Fan-bloody-tastic- I spent all that time and effort to steal the damn book, put together the ingredients, and cast that damn spell- TWICE- and for what?! Ryou hasn't changed a bit! In fact, he's even less drawn to me, if anything!' He glowered as he pictured his hikari's face; his slight hands holding out several pieces of colorful, plastic rectangles. ("Really, Bakura, we've been over this! They may not be 'paper'or 'coin' type-money, but it's still stealing! *sigh* Just... just hand the rest to me; I already have all the credit card company hotline numbers on my phone.")
As the ancient outlaw threw himself on top of the bedsheets, he muttered a final curse before closing his eyes.
But the frustrated spell-caster was unaware of the spell's gradually building effect.
Meanwhile, the calm night was broken with the twitching of a slender limb. The softly sleeping duelist's breath paused. Suddenly, the hikari's eyes jolted open in realization.
"Bakura..." The teen whispered passionately before springing from his bed.