The harbor was deserted, save for a small group of men near the street. They were all of different ethnicity, height...and powers. The vengeful spirit know to some as the King of Thieves, a „voice" to others, and as "Yami no Bakura" to the close-knit group around the pharaoh's medium, quietly assessed them from a distance. They were standing seemingly at their leisure, but closer examination proved that they were held captive by a spell, their minds wrapped securely in cotton wool, preventing them from conscious thought and anything but the impulse to obey.

The tallest of them was a man with dark hair, lean and saturnine, but his expression was blank, his eyes dead and empty. His personality had all but died, and he was no more than the mind-controlled fragments of his former self, as well as some quite useful street-fighting abilities. All of them were very much a picture of the walking dead, so their name, Ghouls, was oddly fitting.

All of them...save one. The young man sitting on a parked motorcycle was by far the youngest of the group, but it was clear that he was their leader. More than their leader – he was their king.

His light-blonde hair partially obscured his face in contrast to his deep bronze skin. While he had something feline, almost effete, about himself – not only in his hair, which reached mid-back, but also in the soft lines of his face – his slight frame was packed with solid muscle.

Yami no Bakura moved closer. Giving the other no chance to react, he called out ; "If you get in my way, I'll have to kill you!". The young man looked surprised. His gaze wandered up and down the interruptor's body, taking in every detail, finally coming to rest on the Sennen ring. He squinted his violet eyes even as his features changed from surprise to a cross of annoyance and amusement. With a wave of his hand and a few less-than-polite words, he bade his minions leave. They were on their way as soon as the words had left their master's mouth, not thinking twice about his commands.

"So. Who do you think you are, that you can sneak up on me and threaten my life?"

"You could refer to me as a collector of valuable things. However, you might just call me a thief."

"I see. So what do you wish to...collect...from me?"

"I want your Sennen item. Hand it over, and you can continue your life."

"Ah. You're collecting the Sennen items. What for, I wonder?"

Yami no Bakura frowned. During their conversation, he and this manipulator had moved closer to each other, so he could clearly see the other's eyes, heavily lined with kohl. They were a vivid lavender, with specks of darker blue around the pupil. He felt himself be pulled in, a strange calm dulling his senses and filling him with warmth. Yami no Bakura realized he was being controlled, and on the verge of giving in. What am I doing? He's got no right to try and manipulate me! With great difficulty, he tore his gaze away from the other's, and looked at the Sennen rod, a ceptre used to manipulate others, in his ...enemy's?...belt loop instead. Greed painted his features.

"I want power. If the seven items are returned to their resting place in the Egyptian stone tablet, the gate of darkness is opened." He slid his fingers over his own Sennen item meaningfully. " I want the dark power sleeping behind that gate."

The mind-controller's annoyingly beautiful eyes sparked with mirth. In a voice soft as silk, he said:

"Seven out of seven items...that's not all you'll need to open the gate."

What? Yami no Bakura clenched his fists, trusting himself enough again to look in the other's eyes.

He wasn't lying. He was telling the truth. Damn!

"Oh..you didn't know that. It's a secret I'd be willing to you help me with some...problems.

Yugi, the one with the Sennen puzzle...you're going to kill him sooner or later, right?"

Now this was something he could work with. A partnership, especially with such a manipulator, was troublesome. But since he was facing a new obstacle in form of the missing eighth key, strength probably lay in numbers. Killing the pharaoh along with his medium and getting paid valuable information for it was just too tempting an offer. Especially when the person making the offering was such a tempting offer, too.

"Hm...I might."

"All right. You..what's your name?"

"You may call me Bakura. Do I get yours in return?"

" I am Malik. We seem to have something in common, don't you think, Bakura ?"

The way Malik pronounced his name made Bakura suppress a shiver.

He is certainly someone extraordinary. But there's no reason to let him know all that I think of him.

"You possess a name that fits your personality. But don't assume I'll let you be my master."

Malik grinned. "Are you partial to a little cooperation, though? If you help me kill Yugi in Battle City, you can have the Sennen rod when all is said and done. If you help me."

Bakura fixed his gaze on the harbor's murky waters, trying not to look Malik in the eye, as that would without doubt influence his decision. What am I supposed to do now? He is trying to manipulate me, that I can see clearly. But there's something about him that lures me towards him even when he isn't trying to control my mind. And we do possess the same goals. While that will be a problem later, it is helpful right now. What do I say?

"You've got five minutes. Then I'm expecting your answer."

And he's bossing me around. We'd get along just great, really.

Bakura started pacing along the rim of the harbor, careful not to fall into the water. With a start he realized that it would be five second's work for Malik to just push him into the depths, never to be seen again. The realization that his life was, even only a little bit, in the hands of the beautiful

adversary-turned-partner made a jolt of excitement cut through him. What the hell am I thinking?! Was he going crazy, or what? His life in Malik's hands? Ridiculous!

I must calm myself down. If he notices that I am noticing him, I have got a problem. If he minds, that is...

During his thinking, some of which had greatly surprised himself, five minutes had passed.

He turned to Malik, who looked expectantly, and forced himself to look full in his eyes.

"So...Time's up. Are you cooperating now, or do I have to get unpleasant?"

The tone in which Malik said this seemed to seep through Bakura's ears right into his brain and turned every doubt he might have had into pure longing. He adopted the same heavy lidded gaze that Malik was wearing.

"Yugi's weakness is his friends. He'd risk everything to save their lives, and trusts them blindly. If you can get a hold of them, your chances will be so much better..."

" I am trying my best to do that. I am using the power of the Sennen rod to get into their minds, get them to trust me..." Malik was mirroring the seductive note of Bakura's voice. He had taken a step or two closer again. Bakura could have reached out and touched him. Not yet...

"They are so close ...they'll know your intentions. I have got a host, one of Yugi's friends. Not quite the inner circle, but still...Perhaps you'd like to use that to your advantage."

Bakura reached into his pocket. He wasn't going to hold out any longer.

"If I use him...if he's hurt and I save his life...then they'll trust me. Excellent! What is your answer?"

Bakura brandished the switchblade he had withdrawn, and brought it close to his mouth.

"This is my answer!" he murmured against the cold steel and ran his tongue along the blade. Malik's eyes tightened to mere slits, with two steps he closed the distance between them. They were standing not even an inch apart. Bakura turned the blade barely, the sharp edge biting into his lip and crimson droplets falling on his hand. His eyes darkened in lust. Reacting on pure instinct, Malik tilted his face up, his tongue seeking the blood on the knifeblade...and on Bakura's lips. Bakura gave his knife a tiny, sharp flick to the right, letting it cut the tip of Malik's tongue, and put it down. A breathless, tension-filled second they stared at each other. Then their lips met.

The kiss was hungry and harsh, violent and wild. Bakura greedily sucked Malik's tongue, who shuddered at the pain and the pleasure coursing through his body. He slid his hand up Bakura's back, then pulled them down again leaving scratch marks, was rewarded with a pair of hands threading in his hair, pulling, and sharp teeth biting his bottom lip. Malik moaned and slid his body closer to Bakura's. They pressed up against each other, leaving no space to breathe and even less to think, only feel. For a moment, Bakura considered just taking Malik then and there, on the floor. He felt himself getting hard at the thought, his body as though filled with fire.

When they finally broke apart, bleeding and panting and aroused to the point of madness, Bakura raised his switchblade again.

"Sealed with blood..." he said, his eyes, dark with desire, never leaving Malik's. Then he violently brought it down into his own arm, cutting fabric and then flesh, down to the bone. Pain and pure extacy coursed through him, and before he surrendered to the crimson-tinged madness and collapsed, his last thought was

Malik...