Hallo! Tis I, you great authoress. Sorry for the delay. I am in a musical and I also have the lead, so time is very short right now.

regular is me bold is Ari italics is chenoa

Warning: Bakura bashing by Chenoa in this chapter

Bakura laughed evilly to himself as he slunk back into his room, clutching Chenoa's glasses. "Yes…now she won't be able to beat me up if she can't see me!" He exclaimed, shutting the door, and locking himself inside with his prize.

"You will not escape me, chicko-su baka ninjen!" Chenoa growled under her breath, hearing Bakura step out of the room and lock the door.

She got up, fumbling for the dresser, then made her way to the door, fidgeting with the two locks and handle of the heavy door. Light briefly flooded the hotel room as Chenoa staggered out the door like a half dead demon.

The lights of the hallway blinded her for a second, but quickly her eyes adjusted to the lighting.

"Baka ninjen-ura!" Chenoa said through gritted fangs. "You can hide, but you can't run!" She finished, only loud enough so that the chaperones wouldn't be awakened.

She reached Bakura's room, then knocked on the door.

"What?" Chenoa heard the soon-to-be-dead Bakura's ambiguous voice near to the door.

"This is Mrs. , Rachel's mom." Chenoa replied, imitating her friend's mother's voice. (A/n: ha! I'm not telling you my last name!)

Then she heard the locks click open beyond the door as Yami Bakura opened it, all the way. His features contorted into fear as he saw Chenoa with her travel can of hairspray in one hand, her butane lighter in another, and a maniacal grin plastered to her face as her eyes gleamed with a dangerous determination.

Immediately, Bakura tried to shut the door, but Chenoa kicked the door back open.

"You really think you can mess with me?" She asked in a calm voice, too calm for one that angry. "Well I'm going to show you how dead wrong you are. I may not be a flame alchemist, but I do. Like. Fire…" With that she advanced into the room. Bakura backing up rapidly.

"N-no, wait. It was only a joke! Really! I-I-I didn't mean to make you that mad!" Bakura stuttered, his eyes fixated on the lighter and hairspray.

"Mad? Oh, no, dearie Baka-ninjen-ura, I'm not mad. I'm not even close to mad. In fact, I feel…" Chenoa paused to mock making a thoughtful decision. "Homicidal."

Bakura whimpered, shriveling into a fetal position.

"This won't hurt for a second…" She sneered, spraying her hairspray heavily onto his hair. Bakura tried to fend off the spray with his hands, but Chenoa warned him not to move.

She then ignited her lighter, hearing its wonderful "click" and saw the beautiful flame dance before her. She held it in front of her hairspray, aimed it at Bakura's head, then lit his hair on fire with her make shift flame thrower.

He ran around in circles, trying to put out his hair with his hands, but because of the chemicals on his hands, they too, caught fire. He screamed, then ran to the bathroom, turning on the shower. That finally put the flames out, but not before giving him a traumatizing new hair do: he looked like a mangy mutt, and then some.

Chenoa walked back to her own room, a delighted and exuberant spring in her step, her glasses proudly donned.

Upon entering her own hotel room, she simply told her friends:

"If you guys smell burning hair, it was so not me. Oh, and I've had my coffee for the day." She was grinning from ear to ear with satisfaction.

Ari simply shook her head, knowing then to question her friend's pyromaniac tendencies, and yawned widely. "Well, I'm tired." She said, wrapping herself in her blanket, and removing her own glasses. "Hey Gaku-Chan?"

"Yeah?"

"What exactly did you do to Bakura-kun?"

Chenoa grinned even wider, if that was even possible. "Let's just say he got a new hairstyle." She said, turning out the light.