Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! does not belong to me.

A/N: I have decided that this predates the Memory Arc of the series and that that is all very unlikely to ever occur within this story universe. So, everyone is more or less ignorant to Bakura's past and Yami's former occupation save for, or course, Bakura, who addresses him as Pharaoh.

I hope you enjoy and remember, reviews are eternally appreciated and adored.

Le soleil is a follow-up story to Le soleil, la lune.

Le soleil

Chapter 3

What are you thinking about?

Bakura sent the question echoing throughout the corridors of the Ring, bouncing off the old stone walls of an imagined sanctuary and reaching the surface of his host's brain like a stray thought.

He could feel Ryou shrug mentally and he suppressed the tick of frustration the small action invoked. His little mortals mind had been quite the closed book after his meeting with Pharaoh and he refused to show his apparent irritation by the fact. He suspected Ryou enjoyed the small ways in which he found to bother him and thought he shouldn't give the other too much satisfaction by letting him see it.

Damnable imp...

Bakura frowned into the darkness, thinking carefully about his companion who was being rather secretive. It bothered him more than he wished to admit and while he knew (if he had too) he could invade the others mind, use the Ring to rip open the folds of secrecy that were veiling whatever information Ryou had from him. And he was trying to tell himself he should do just that...

And yet something staved the urge, an invisible hand against his chest. Bakura told himself it was just too much effort and that he could do so at any time, there was no hurry. It would be easier to let Ryou's guard slip, let the boy betray the knowledge to him unknowingly. Let him forget Bakura was there and he would really act the thief he was and take that information without him ever realizing. Yes...that would be mush easier...

...Cursed host...

Bakura closed his eyes running a white hand, a ghosts hand, through his hair.

Ryou...

The name seemed to echo throughout his soul room, though no sound had escaped his thin lips. The name took up residence in the darkest corners of the vast dark caverns and pits that was his mind physically embodied. It echoed, this name bouncing back and repeating again, and again, never ending.

All in his head.

Bakura scowled.

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"What do you think?"

Yami no Yuugi, merely Yami to the group of mortals he called friends, sat in a semi circle, staring at him. It was from Anzu the words had come, soft and curious, the girl sat on her knees, hands on her thighs and staring at him, waiting for an answer.

The once Pharaoh of all of Egypt sighed and ran a hand through tri-colored hair. He looked tired, even when the body he spoke through was not his own. A spirits weariness shining through the adolescent form of his host. He could feel Yuugi's mind brush comfortingly up against his and he smiled internally at the sentiment.

"Honestly...I don't know." It was not the answer the three had been expecting and a wave of discomfort rippled through them. Honda narrowed dark eyes and Jou shifted beside him. Anzu merely pursed her lips and her brows knitted in concern.

"What do you mean, don't know?" Honda echoed. "Ryou's gotta agree...after everything the Ring's spirit has done to him!" The brunette was going to get worked up rather easily over this if he didn't find a way to diffuse it and soon. He knew the other held a special disdain for the thief after their run in at Duelist Kingdom and that he felt somehow responsible for the dark spirits return when he had been so sure that the Ring had been discarded and their quiet friend's problems solved. Though Yami knew it was an irrational thought he couldn't stop the young man from taking on a somewhat red-blooded guilt.

"I'm sure he will," Yami said quickly. "Ryou just has to...come to the conclusion himself. Remember, Bakura has been with him so long the thief may also be swaying a portion of Ryou's decisions even without his knowledge. We just have to remain patient."

He struggled not to shift under the intent gaze of three teenagers who wanted nothing more than clean answers.

"And when the end of the month comes and he has still yet to give us a suitable answer..."He took a deep breath and released it, feeling Yuugi's presence right behind him, bolstering him. "We will expel the thief by force."

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He was actually thinking about his laundry.

And the fact that every single pair of his previously white socks where now a soft shade of butter yellow.

Ryou held the culprit daintily with an air of determined disdain.

"Foul handkerchief, I curse you."

The bright yellow square of cloth had nothing to retort and Ryou threw it back into the hamper with a huff. While yellow socks weren't...bad necessarily...he still was awfully fond of nice white socks. Some might even call him a stickler, or some would if they knew him a little better. The most Bakura called him was odd. But coming from a clinically insane 3,000 year old spirit he didn't take it too personally.

He would have to go shopping.

Ryou wrinkled his nose at the fact, not looking forward to an afternoon in the shopping malls looking for something as mundane as...socks.

Setting the laundry basket onto the couch he decided to wait until his list was a bit more substantial before venturing out for that little errand. Yellow socks could be...tolerated until then but he was fully aware that he was casting them a somewhat surreptitious look to the aforementioned socks.

He was beginning to feel a little silly.

Sighing the boy decided to distract himself instead by looking out the clear glass doors of his balcony, watching a flock of birds fly by as he busied himself folding clothes, more accurately, coupling pairs of previously single socks as stray thoughts scurried over his conscious.

Was his life always this boring, he wondered. The run in with Yami seemed to do nothing but remind him that without Bakura he would be quite alone. God even knew the only reason Yami had even approached him had had to do with his other.

Fair weather friend

It was his own bitterness that whispered that thought and Ryou choked on the sour taste of loneliness, swallowed it, forced it down before it rushed over him in a wave. It was moments like this that he could understand why Bakura was the way he was. He must have been very lonely in the Ring, stuck with nothing but the hate he held for Yami and the knowledge that his entire existence lay ensorceled within a...trinket.

It was very sad when he thought of it that way...But Ryou pursed his lips and shook his head, dislodging such thoughts. He wasn't Bakura however and he wasn't going to pursue the same path his other had. He didn't fancy he had more strength of will than the darker half did, instead he believed Bakura hadn't even tried to fight the anger that had overtaken him long before his death in Egypt. Ryou wouldn't let that happen to him, even if he could understand it.

Swallowing Ryou left the basket of coupled socks on the couch, heading for the kitchen for a glass of water for his suddenly dry throat. And as he held the glass under the purifier over the faucet he let his mind travel over the enigma of the spirit that was so part of him that it was awfully difficult to think of him gone. He had lived years not even aware of his presence and when he had learned the truth...it felt as if he'd known the other had always been there, with him, apart of him, and he had suddenly felt an immense weight lifted knowing that he had never been alone, not once since he had gotten the Ring and his father had left again for distant lands, in search of long forgotten treasures. It was incredibly difficult for him to contemplate his life without Bakura and with his cup half full Ryou realized his didn't want to!

Not that he'd let the spirit know that. Or Yami and his friends.

Not yet.

Ryou left the glass empty in the sink when he walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, looking around the neat room and feeling an irrational urge to suddenly mess it all up. He bit back the urge and instead walked to the balcony, sliding the door open and stepping out onto the platform that held him fourteen stories above the streets below. In a few hours Bakura would be standing here, watching with very different eyes the same world. The thought gave him a strange comfort and he smiled, leaning on the railing as winds played with his white hair gently.

He wouldn't tell Bakura, not yet. He would let the other stew in his self-imposed ignorance. He knew full well the thief could fight for the secrets of Ryou's mind and he suspected it was only because of the strange respect the other had developed for him that kept him from doing just that. He wasn't fool enough however to believe he was safe. Once Bakura lost his patience any shred of respect or so called love the other held for him would vanish and he would take what he wanted by force. Ryou would fight it...but that didn't stop the thief from having the upper hand, nor the truth that Ryou would probably lose and then let any control he had slip from his fingers.

No...he was going to play this game right. Bakura seemed so fond of them, as did Yami. Time called that he try his hand and see how much Bakura's host he really was. And if it was the 18th he had roughly 13 days to prepare.

Time to show what he had learned.

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A/N: Erm...so you know...I am not precisiely sure how this will conclude. Truth be told, I have veery little idea what the next chapter will hold. I write spontaneously and Ryou coming out this way was, for me, a pleasant surprise. I dearly hate the simpering way in which he is often written and have to

give him major kudos for being able to deal with Bakura. Thus...I hope his strenth is reflected in my writing. Haaaaa, but anyway! Look! An update that didn't come a year later! Fantastic!

I thank everybody who reviewed and can only be selfish and ask for more. I adore feedback as it does let me know how I am progressing. Critique is welcomed, flames are just mean.

I will try, try, try to update again soon. It is Summer vacation so the free time is boundless:)