Yamamoto woke the next morning drenched in a cold sweat and his heart pounding in fear.

He had been dreaming that he was giving Jirou a bath on the baseball field; the Akita sitting in a giant metal tub filled with, not water, but milk. For some reason, Yamamoto was scrubbing the milk into his puppy's fur with his shoe when suddenly the light disappeared. The world went dark, and Jirou was suddenly gone; all Yamamoto could hear were growls and heavy breathing. Yamamoto ran around the dark world, trying to call out, but his voice didn't work. When the lights flashed back on, Yamamoto was face to face with Gokudera. The other was convulsing and his eyes had that wild and crazed look in them, and he looked like he was preparing to pounce-

Eyes snapping open, Yamamoto had practically leaped out of bed. He fumbled to turn on the light as he sat up; panting as he tried to calm the absolute terror he felt from his nightmare. He sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes as he tried to forget the dream.

He'd forgotten how frightened he had been when Gokudera had gone crazy the day before. He had been too distracted from the fact that the silver-haired man was finally starting to trust him, even if it was just a little bit. But his sub-conscious sure hadn't forgotten. He could still feel a paralyzing fear gripping at his chest.

Knowing he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, lest he return to his nightmare, Yamamoto stumbled out of bed. He stretched as he headed out into the living room, smiling a little as he looked over to see Gokudera fast asleep on the couch. The other was curled into a tight little ball, and he seemed to be at peace from the twitching at last.

He sure didn't resemble the convulsing figure of Yamamoto's nightmares now.

When Yamamoto walked by, Jirou sat up from where he'd been sleeping next to the couch. The puppy woofed quietly before standing up and following Yamamoto into the kitchen; where he knew breakfast would be waiting for him. The baseball player really had to laugh at his Akita. He always knew when Yamamoto was filling his food bowl.

Food and water bowl high with their respective substances, Jirou dug right in as Yamamoto moved over to the counter to make breakfast. Now that Gokudera was finally eating the food he made, Yamamoto wanted to make the best breakfast he could for the other. After all, who knew when the last time was that Gokudera had eaten well? If he ever had.

Yamamoto decided to go all out. He made eggs Sunnyside up over a piece of golden brown, whole wheat toast. To accompany it, he cooked two pieces of sizzling bacon and a sausage; followed by four pieces of French toast, sprinkled with powdered sugar. To top off the meal, he took the biggest glass he had and filled it to the brim with orange juice (since he now knew that Gokudera didn't like milk).

After using three plates to hold the huge breakfast, Yamamoto began to think that maybe he'd gone a little overboard.

Laughing at himself, the baseball player decided to not risk trying to pull a waiter move by balancing two plates on his forearms, so he just took the huge breakfast over to the couch in two trips; stumbling over Jirou every time he entered or exited the kitchen.

By the time he had gotten the whole breakfast successfully onto the table next to the couch, Yamamoto looked down at the still sleeping Gokudera. He debated if he should wake the other. Even though Gokudera had eaten the grilled cheese sandwiches, that didn't necessarily mean he'd eat this as well. Yamamoto wanted to stick around to make sure he ate the breakfast, but he had to go to baseball practice.

He decided to let the other sleep, since that was also important; especially since Gokudera finally seemed to be at peace from whatever had been making him twitch and convulse the day before. Yamamoto had gotten Gokudera to eat something yesterday, so the silver haired man would be fine for a little bit if he decided not to eat today.

As Yamamoto picked up the duffel bag with all of his baseball equipment in it, he noticed that the living room was pretty dark and gloomy. Clicking his tongue, he walked over to the window in front of the couch and opened the curtains; letting some light shine into the room. Then, with one last look at the sleeping man on his couch, Yamamoto left for his practice.

It was only around noon that he realized what he'd done.

Yamamoto stood on his doorstep after coming home from practice that day, rooted to the spot by fear. His key was hovering over the lock, but his hands were sweating and shaking so badly that he'd probably drop it if he tried to stick it in the lock. If he could move in the first place.

How could he have been so stupid?

Taking deep breaths to try and calm his fear, Yamamoto forced his body to move. He would never accomplish anything just standing on his doorstep, and what if Gokudera was seriously injured because of what he'd done? He would never forgive himself if he let the man die because he'd been too afraid to go into his own apartment! It was his own fault for stupidly opening the curtains that morning!

And there was also the fear that someone would see him frozen in front of his doorstep and ask him what was wrong. He would have to make up some lie about how the key didn't work, the person would then try to help him inside, and, when they did, they'd be face to face with whatever was going on inside. And what if they were the people who had originally hurt Gokudera in the first place?!

Yamamoto couldn't have that.

Forcing himself out of his thoughts, Yamamoto shakily placed the key into the lock. He swallowed hard as he turned the lock and opened the door.

It was silent. No heavy breathing, no whimpers from Jirou. Nothing.

The baseball player stepped cautiously into the room, slowly and quietly closing the door behind him. As he scanned the room, he saw that the breakfast he had made was sitting cold and untouched on the table. He also noticed that the curtains were still open in front of the couch. But, just as he had feared, the couch itself was empty.

Gokudera was gone.

Suddenly Yamamoto's ears caught the sound of nails skidding on the floor, and he was struck with a powerful sense of déjà vu. This was just like the day before when Gokudera had first been convulsing, when Jirou had shot out of his bedroom.

Looking up to the door of his bedroom, Yamamoto indeed saw something shoot out of the room. However, it was obviously not Jirou.

This thing was moving so fast that Yamamoto couldn't tell what it was; just that it was a silver blur. And Jirou was not a silver colored dog. It crashed into things as it dashed crazily around the room, before it seemed to notice Yamamoto's presence and came shooting towards him. Yamamoto could only cringe in fear and lift his arms to protect himself as the thing attacked him.

As it flew at him, Yamamoto felt himself fall to the ground, his bag dropping near the door, as he tried vainly to protect himself with his arms. The thing was now on top of him, clawing and biting anywhere it could reach. The baseball player moved his arms slightly to take a peek at what was attacking him, his face scrunched up from the pain of the thing's claws digging into his skin.

When he moved his arms enough to see around them, he came face to face with a silver wolf. Its fur was bristling, and its lips were drawn back in a snarl that showed its pointy teeth. Yamamoto could almost see the wolf growling at him; its entire body was vibrating from the force of its growl. He could feel it too; the force of the rumble penetrating into the core of his body until it was almost like he himself was growling. The wolf's emerald green eyes glared down at the baseball player and, as he tore his gaze away from its eyes, he saw that there was a huge scar on the wolf's belly.

What…?

Yamamoto was brought out of his thoughts as the wolf dug its claws deep into his chest; its head snapping forward and chomping its teeth down on Yamamoto's chin. Gasping in pain, Yamamoto tried to pull the wolf off of him. An insane theory was floating around in his head, but he pushed it away. Now wasn't the time for that!

As the wolf's teeth sunk deeper and deeper into Yamamoto's chin, the baseball player grabbed the wolf's muzzle in a crazy attempt to free himself. Yamamoto's chin and chest burned with pain, making it hard to concentrate. He tried to pry the wolf's mouth open so that he could fall out of the wolf's grasp, but, now that he was struggling, the wolf was starting to shake Yamamoto's head from its grasp on his chin.

The effort to weaken Yamamoto was doing the job. Yamamoto's vision started to go hazy as the blood from his chin splashed onto the wolf's muzzle; staining its silver fur red. Yamamoto had to think fast, or he may get his entire face ripped off by the wolf. Either that or he'd bleed to death. Plus, the pain was starting to become unbearable.

Deciding that his insane theory might be the only way to save himself, Yamamoto stopped struggling and pleaded at the wolf.

"G-Gokudera, please let go!"

Suddenly the wolf stopped growling. As Yamamoto tried to steel himself from the pain in his chin and chest (it was painful just to breathe), the wolf's green eyes bore down on him.

The similarities between the wolf and Gokudera were too great to be a coincidence. Silver fur, silver hair. Green eyes, and the scar on the wolf's belly was the exact same injury that Gokudera had had on his stomach. There was also the fact that Gokudera was gone, and this wolf was here. And now the wolf had stopped gnawing on him, though its teeth hadn't quite loosened their grasp, which Yamamoto could only assume to mean that his theory had been correct.

This wolf was Gokudera.

Letting go of his chin, Gokudera leaped off of Yamamoto. He retreated a few paces away, where he turned, sat, and stared at Yamamoto. His eyes never left the baseball player as he began to lick the blood from between his claws.

Yamamoto panted as he slowly sat up and leaned back against the couch, staring back at Gokudera as he tried to ignore his body shouting at him in pain. He couldn't deny that he was in shock. It was impossible… and yet there Gokudera was, a wolf. Had this been the reason for Gokudera's twitching and odd behavior from the day before? Now that Yamamoto thought about it, he could smell that odd scent again. At least he could identify it now.

It was the smell of the wolf.

Breaking his eye contact with Gokudera, Yamamoto began to inspect his own wounds. The wolf's claws hadn't dug that deeply into his chest (his baseball jersey and thick jogging sweater had mostly protected him from Gokudera's attacks), and the pain had already started to fade from his chest area. Those wounds wouldn't need any special attention. His chin, however, was a different matter.

When the baseball player lifted his fingers to check his chin, wincing as pain throbbed through his jaw, he could still feel the blood gushing out of the deep wound and he knew that he'd have to stop the bleeding soon or he'd pass out.

He was definitely going to get a scar from this one.

As he started to stand up (his medical supplies were in the bathroom cabinet, and he'd need all the help he could get. Plus, maybe Gokudera would let him treat his wounds, even though it may not work on a wolf), however, Gokudera was growling at him again. The wolf abruptly stood up and lifted his haunches as he pulled his lip back in a snarl; his ears flat against his head.

It was obviously a threat.

His heart beating in fear and confusion, Yamamoto slowly sat back down again. When Gokudera seemed to be sure that Yamamoto wasn't going anywhere, he lay down and began washing himself once more.

Yamamoto watched the wolf wearily. Why was Gokudera still threatening him? He'd thought he'd convinced the wolf that everything was fine when he'd gotten him to stop biting his chin… Did Gokudera still feel threatened? And why would he? Hadn't he finally started to trust Yamamoto?

As Yamamoto debated these thoughts in his head, Gokudera yawned and rested his muzzle on his paws; his eyes slowly closing. Just as Yamamoto had the flashing hope that Gokudera would fall asleep, and he could go get his medical supplies, the wolf opened its eyes again and continued to stare at him.

Sighing, Yamamoto decided he'd have to find something else he could reach from where he was to stop the bleeding. Gokudera obviously wasn't letting him leave anytime soon.

Looking down, Yamamoto saw the tattered condition of his clothes. His sports jacket was in completely shredded from Gokudera's claws, and Yamamoto decided that that would have to do. Feeling a small ache in his chest (he'd really loved that jacket!), Yamamoto ripped off a dangling piece of cloth and applied it to his chin, tightly tying the cloth around his head so that it would stay in place.

Knowing that he looked ridiculous, Yamamoto rested his head back on the couch and stared Gokudera in the eyes.

This whole week had been crazy. Finding the silver haired man in the alleyway, Gokudera's stubborn distrust of him, the twitching, and now there was the wolf. Yamamoto felt like he'd been placed right in the middle of some weird fantasy movie.

As his head sagged from exhaustion, Yamamoto's last thought was to wonder what he'd gotten himself into.

Yamamoto wasn't sure how long he'd been out. All he knew was that, when he awoke, the wolf was gone. In its place was Gokudera; tightly curled into a ball, and obviously fast asleep.

Sighing, Yamamoto slowly stretched his limbs. So his theory had been correct after all. Somehow, Gokudera was also a wolf. Stories of werewolves that Yamamoto had heard when he was a child flitted through his brain, making him wonder if those stories were really just stories. Millions of questions flooded through his tired mind, but Yamamoto knew that none of them could be answered until Gokudera awoke.

In the meantime, Yamamoto had to check on the condition of his chin.

Safe to get up from his spot behind the couch (Gokudera was asleep, and also not in wolf form, therefore not threatening), Yamamoto stiffly stood and headed into his bathroom. Looking at himself in the mirror, the baseball player could only laugh at his disheveled appearance. He looked paler than usual, with dark bags under his eyes. As if an added bonus, he looked absolutely silly with the blood-stained, tattered remains of his jacket tied around his head. He looked like he'd just stepped out of a horror film.

Untying the soiled jacket from his head, Yamamoto glanced at the wound on his face. It had finally stopped bleeding, to be replaced with an ugly scab in the shape of a straight line. Somehow. The wolf's bite must've only grasped a line of his skin, but had completely sunk into that one line. Which didn't make much sense, but Yamamoto didn't know how else to explain what had happened. Then again, he didn't know how to explain how anything had happened…

Gingerly touching the scab, Yamamoto was relieved to find that the pain wasn't too bad. It was definitely better than when he was getting bit in the first place.

Pulling out his medicine supplies from the cabinet above his head, Yamamoto fumbled around inside the box until he found the disinfectant. He applied a glob of it to his chin, wincing as the wound stung like crazy. He had to deal with the pain, though. It was better than it getting infected. He then placed a square bandage over the wound, to make sure it wouldn't start bleeding again, and to really press in the disinfectant.

Pleased with his work for the moment, Yamamoto exited the bathroom and, noticing that Gokudera was still asleep, headed over to where the untouched breakfast sat. He picked up a piece of cold French toast and started nibbling, having not noticed how hungry he was until that point.

It was at that moment that the baseball player suddenly thought of his puppy. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't even heard Jirou since he'd come home the day before…

His throat tightening in worry, Yamamoto was suddenly not hungry. He put down his toast and started to look around for Jirou, careful not to disturb the sleeping Gokudera. He didn't know what state Gokudera was in at the moment, and he wasn't about to anger the other and find out.

Deciding to check out his bedroom, since that was where Jirou had been hiding the first time Gokudera had started convulsing. Yamamoto tried to prepare himself for what he might find. Gokudera in wolf form had been set on attacking everything, and since Yamamoto hadn't even heard Jirou recently, he couldn't help but think the worst. He didn't know what he would do if he found his puppy in pieces…

Shaking his head to push those horrifying thoughts out of his head, Yamamoto entered his bedroom.

The first thing he noticed was that there wasn't a bloody corpse out in the open. That was a good sign. The wolf would've had no reason to hide something if he'd killed it. Unless he had eaten it instead…

Yamamoto smacked himself in the head. He couldn't keep thinking like this! Nothing was for sure until he found Jirou!

Trying to swallow the bile rising in his throat, Yamamoto surveyed the rest of the room. The lamp near his bed had been knocked over, and the bed covers were thrown in a heap on the floor. On closer inspection, Yamamoto noticed that holes had been gnawed through the cloth. Other than that, however, the room looked untouched.

Kneeling down to check under the bed, Yamamoto almost fainted from relief when he saw a mound of ginger fur. Reaching out to lightly touch the dog's fur, Yamamoto couldn't hold back the sigh of relief that escaped him when he felt the warmth radiating off his puppy.

Jirou was still alive!

Reacting to the touch, Jirou flinched and slowly turned his head to look up at Yamamoto with scared, puppy-dog eyes. Yamamoto felt a strong sense of pity for his puppy. The wolf must've really frightened Jirou, and it was Yamamoto's fault that the wolf had appeared in the first place.

Jirou's ears perked when he realized who it was, and he yelped excitedly as he flew into Yamamoto's arms. Yamamoto held onto his puppy, and stroked his fingers through the puppy's soft fur on his head, as Jirou licked Yamamoto's face like a child would a lollipop.

"I'm sorry, Jirou," Yamamoto whispered into his puppy's ear as he continued stroking the soft fur. "I can be a real idiot, can't I?"

Jirou woofed, as if in agreement, before stretching his head back in an attempt to lick the hand that was petting him. Yamamoto laughed and buried his face into his dog's fur. He was relishing the moment of not having to think about Gokudera, or his chin throbbing with pain, and just being able to sit here with Jirou. It was almost as if his life had returned to normal, before he found Gokudera in the alley. And he was enjoying it.

That last thought made Yamamoto pause for a moment. Did he really wish he'd never met Gokudera?

Jirou started squirming, breaking Yamamoto out of his thoughts. The dog leaped out of his arms before trotting out of the bedroom. The puppy must've deemed everything okay and was now moving on with his dog life. Yamamoto couldn't help but envy him.

Deciding to push away his confusing thoughts for the moment, Yamamoto decided to confront Gokudera and get the answers to his questions.

It was a few hours before Gokudera finally woke up, and Yamamoto was relieved to stop biting his nails in worry on how Gokudera's mood was going to be. This stress was going to make the baseball player keel over someday.

Gokudera's eyes slowly opened, and his emerald green gaze surveyed his surroundings for a moment before he sat up and scratched his head. He apparently hadn't noticed Yamamoto at first, for when he looked over and saw the baseball player anxiously sitting on the couch, he jumped a little in surprise.

But then he just sighed.

"So you know, huh?"

Not quite sure of his meaning, but having a good idea, Yamamoto simply nodded his head in affirmation.

Gokudera nodded, biting his lip, before he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Yamamoto stared on in bafflement as Gokudera proceeded to sit there stiffly, wondering what on earth this strange man was doing. It almost looked like he was… waiting for something.

A tense silence passed before Gokudera finally opened his eyes again. And, when he did, he looked at Yamamoto with a mixture of surprise and confusion. Though the look was gone as fast as it had appeared, making Yamamoto wonder if he'd even seen it at all. All he could see now was a cold look in the other's eyes.

"Well? You're not going to scream and start throwing things at me? You're not going to chase me out and start shooting at me?" Gokudera snapped, his eyes narrowing in hatred.

Yamamoto could only blink in astonishment.

"What…?"

"Don't lie to me!" Gokudera snarled, standing up abruptly and stomping over to where Yamamoto was sitting so he could spit in his face. "Don't you think I'm disgusting? A child of Satan? Don't you want to kick me out onto your doorstep and never have to think of me ever again?!"

Yamamoto could barely process what was being shouted at him as he stared up at Gokudera in pure shock. Where was this coming from? Sure, he'd thought for a fleeting second that he wished he'd never met the silver-haired man, but never any of the things Gokudera was now spitting at him. Why did Gokudera seem to expect the kind of behavior he was describing?

"Why would you ever think that…?" Yamamoto finally mumbled out when he realized the furious Gokudera had been waiting for him to answer. The baseball player sat up a little taller to fully look Gokudera in the eye, wanting to make sure the other heard what he was about to say. "I've been really confused and… scared through this whole thing, but that doesn't mean I hate you and want to get rid of you. I just want to know what's going on… and why you're so afraid of me when you could easily tear me to pieces."

Gokudera seemed rooted to where he stood for a moment before he unfroze and looked away with a click of his tongue. He glared at a spot on the floor and spoke so quietly that Yamamoto almost didn't hear him.

"… I'm not afraid of you…"

Yamamoto sighed in frustration, wondering why Gokudera had to be so stubborn on everything. He also felt slight disappointment, since he felt that the other trusted him even less than he had originally.

Sitting up even further, Yamamoto stared intently into the other's adverted gaze.

"Yes, you are. If you weren't, why would you be so distrustful of me?"

Gokudera finally met Yamamoto's gaze with a glare, though there was a hint of uncertainty. It was only for a second, though, before Gokudera broke eye contact again and retreated to the door. For a moment, Yamamoto thought that the other was just going to walk out and leave, but, instead, Gokudera just collapsed against the door. He pulled his knees to his chest and stared down at the floor again.

"Y-you're really not going to hurt me?"

Yamamoto stared in disbelief at the other. It was probably the most open thing the other had ever said to him. His voice had been full of fear.

Slowly getting off the couch, Yamamoto made his way to where Gokudera had collapsed. Immediately, whatever openness Gokudera had had vanished and he jumped up from his sitting position. He slammed back against the door, his hand reaching back and tightly gripping the doorknob.

"Fuck! Forget I said anything, I'm not scared of you!" Gokudera snapped, though his shaky hand on the doorknob said otherwise.

Yamamoto closed the distance between them and gently touched his hand to the other's pale cheek. He could feel Gokudera trembling under his touch.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Yamamoto whispered, his gaze never leaving Gokudera's so the other would know he was telling the truth. He wasn't sure why Gokudera was so scared, but he didn't want him to be. The baseball player hated the fact that the silver-haired man seemed to expect people to hurt him.

Gokudera stared defiantly up at the baseball player before smacking his hand off of him. Pushing the other one away, Gokudera trudged over and sat grudgingly on the couch; his arms crossed defiantly over his chest.

"I knew you wouldn't," he mumbled, his tone daring Yamamoto to argue with him. Yamamoto just laughed softly, deciding not to push it. He needed Gokudera to be in a good mood if he was going to get the other to answer his questions. Besides, Yamamoto wasn't quite sure if he was ready to open the box that was Gokudera's past.

Moving over to the couch, Yamamoto sat down a respectful distance away from Gokudera so that the other wouldn't feel threatened. He then looked at Gokudera's sneer for a moment before launching into his first question.

"Just to clarify… What… are you?"

A silence hung between them for a bit before Gokudera looked over and met his gaze. The fear had completely disappeared from his gaze, to be replaced with slight irritation.

"You already know the answer to that question," Gokudera scoffed, but he continued to answer anyway, "I'm a werewolf."

Yamamoto could feel Gokudera's gaze on him as he looked down at his lap. He had had the suspicion that that was what Gokudera was, but to hear it out loud, and to know it was the truth, was a very different matter. Yamamoto had always assumed that werewolves were just a made up entity from some bored author's imagination. To hear they were real… Well, Yamamoto was having trouble wrapping his brain around it.

He decided to move on to his next question.

"Why did you attack me?" Yamamoto looked up and met Gokudera's eyes again, causing Gokudera to look away from him. The baseball player sighed. How could he have a conversation if Gokudera wouldn't even look at him?

"What is this? An interrogation?" Gokudera looked just plain irritated now, and Yamamoto realized that he was glad the Gokudera he was used to was back. Seeing the other so open and frightened had terrified the baseball player almost more than the wolf attacking him had.

"Well, yeah, I guess you can call it that!" Yamamoto laughed, trying to lighten the mood. Though he stared at Gokudera intently, to show that he really did want an answer to his question. Yamamoto could tell that the questions were making the silver-haired man uncomfortable, but the baseball player didn't want to be confused anymore!

Suddenly, however, Gokudera's demeanor completely changed. The irritation and discomfort had vanished, to be replaced with an aura that Yamamoto could only describe as evil. A twisted smirk appeared on the werewolf's face as he leaned closer to Yamamoto. The baseball player flinched back, feeling unnerved as the tables were switched on him. Suddenly he was the prey, and Gokudera was the predator.

"Do you know what fear smells like?" Gokudera hummed, his eyes flashing with malice. Yamamoto swallowed, wondering what had brought about this sudden change in mood.

"A wolf can smell fear; and I could smell yours all the way down the block." Gokudera was slowly moving closer to Yamamoto, his smirk revealing his sharp canines. "When a wolf feels threatened, they will attack anything. And when they smell fear, well, let's just say they go a bit batty."

As Gokudera continued to move forwards, Yamamoto scooted back as far as he could; his mind wrapped in confusion and fear. Why was Gokudera acting this way? Was it because he still had the curtains open? Was Gokudera still in the mindset of the wolf? Or was this because Gokudera was scenting his fear?

Suddenly, Gokudera froze. As Yamamoto's eyes widened in fear and confusion, Gokudera began to twitch again. He started breathing shakily as he curled up slightly, shivers raking down his body.

The scene was all too familiar.

"F-fuck… Not now…" Gokudera hissed out, before his head shot up to glare at Yamamoto. "C-close the curtains… Now!"

But Yamamoto was frozen to the spot, and could only watch on in horrified awe as Gokudera began to shrink with an agonized cry. As he shrank, his bones began to reform themselves. His fingers shrank and became more rounded; his thumb and pointer finger fusing together as his hand no longer became opposable. His face became longer and narrower, and his hair disappeared to be replaced with silver fur all along his body. As his muzzle formed, his teeth became sharper and his nose turned black. His thigh muscles rounded, and his back legs slightly curved out. Lastly, pointed ears sprouted from his head, and a tail bushed out from Gokudera's tailbone.

Slipping out of Gokudera's clothes, a wolf now sat on Yamamoto's couch; its body trembling and its tongue lolling out of its mouth as it panted heavily. Yamamoto's body refused to move as he continued to stare at Gokudera. The transformation he'd just witnessed had to be one of the most amazing, yet horrifying, things he'd ever seen in his entire life.

It was only then that Yamamoto finally responded to Gokudera's request and went up to close the curtains. Though by then, of course, it was too late.

When Yamamoto returned to the couch, the wolf was watching the baseball player with an unreadable expression. Though Yamamoto could tell Gokudera was tired, which made sense, after all, since the transformation had looked thoroughly exhausting.

"What goes on in your head, Gokudera?" Yamamoto sighed to the wolf, who only twitched an ear in response.

Yamamoto sat back and had a staring contest with the wolf as he delved into his own thoughts. His attempted "interrogation" with Gokudera had only proved to confuse the baseball player even more. Gokudera had had several drastic mood changes within the span of an hour, which had confused the baseball player to the point that he had no idea where he stood with the other anymore. He would love to just blame the odd behavior on Gokudera's wolf side, but Yamamoto didn't know him well enough to simply make that conclusion.

Why did everything involving Gokudera have to be so complicated?

Heaving a frustrated sigh, Yamamoto suddenly had a thought. Gokudera had said that a wolf attacked when it felt threatened or scented fear. Since the wolf before him was yawning, and looked like it wouldn't move anytime soon, did that mean that Gokudera no longer felt threatened around Yamamoto? Did he even have his human memories when he was a wolf?

Realizing that he was adding more unanswered questions to his thoughts, and that he was only confusing himself further by wondering, Yamamoto decided to shut his brain off for the night.

His interrogation of Gokudera would have to wait for another day.

(A/N) Whoopee, long chapter is long! Or, at least, by my standards it's long! :9 And a lot happened in it, too! So hopefully that'll make up for the two week wait. Right? Well, you've all discovered Gokudera's wild little secret ;D I know in the original side series 'Monster Tamer Tsuna' that he's supposed to be a werecat, but nope, not in my story, he's 100% werewolf! If that's possible. But I also have a different take on werewolves, so I hope you like it! =) Yamamoto's a confuzzled little human right now, but all will be explained in time.

Anyway, enough of my rambling. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thanks for reading!