Shadows That Bleed

by YamiYugiPuzzleshipper

Pure-Bloods are said to be myths, not even well-known within stories. "A specialized genetic coding of the moon and the dire," their spoken lore proclaims. They are creatures beyond the power of mortality, gifted by the gods themselves. Known as the Eternal Ones, their existence once extinguished, resurrection foretells a powerful omen.

2. Tests

Disclaimer: I do not own Yugioh

Edit schedule: Varying due to limited time

Update schedule: Biweekly due to limited time

Chapter warning: Some blood and gore, mentions of hallucinations and night terrors, mentions of medication, slight description of veterinary surgery

Chapter II: Tests

Work Log Entry II: January, 1991

January 1

The she-wolf has not taken to the devolution of her genetics. All RNA present in her body has failed to succumb to the alterations.

Her mate's genetics remained unchanged as well.

Again, all efforts have brought forth nothing.

Yugi could not understand it. There was absolutely no way that an animal could have opened the cage from the inside. Even when he had managed to slip his own hand through the gap in the metal, angling his fingers to flick and grasp the handle, there was no easy way to force it open.

And he knew that the canine's nose would have been too large to even push through the metal completely. The muzzle itself was far too broad and thick for such a thing to begin with. It would never have been able to push the handle in order to flip it, let alone slip it out of place. Its paws were far too big to press through the gap between the metal, even if it had only attempted to use a couple of toes and claws.

The wolf-dog could have easily knocked against the cage until it slid on its own from the force. But the noise would have most likely woken his mom or grandpa and it wouldn't have managed this seemingly impossible disappearing act. The two locks were simple sliding handles, and it would not have been hard for the canine to force it open by way of hitting it hard several times. The door would have slid open eventually from there.

Yugi had seen a dog on television open an oven and steal chicken nuggets, open and close cabinets, and part a sliding glass door in order to escape the house. Opening the door's top lock would hardly be a challenge. And the bottom would have most likely slid out of place around the same time.

The question for him was no longer how the cage had been opened.

It was now about how it was still closed after the dog had managed to escape.

The canine had been extremely intelligent, yes; there was no room for argument with the assessment. It had always retained that glimmer in its eyes, the one with hidden secrets that burned at Yugi's consciousness whenever he'd looked at it.

More than once, Yugi had witnessed its comprehension of words spoken. So he could hardly question its capability of pushing the door open.

Perhaps he could not even question its ability to close the lock behind it.

But the biggest difficulty Yugi had considering the ordeal was how much energy it would have taken for the wolf-dog to do all of this. Why should it have bothered to go through so much trouble?

Yugi twisted his wrist again, then straightened his hand out completely and pulled his arm out from behind the metal once more. He had been mulling over the issue for more than two hours. And not once had he gotten a better understanding of it. But he had also come to the realization that he was being disgustingly hopeful in trying to understand.

In truth it was rather foolish of him to assume to recreate how the dog had gotten out of the cage in the first place. But the darkest corners of his mind whispered at him the very thing that he did not want to believe—that, quite possibly, it could have somehow been a hallucination.

Yugi did not want to admit it. It hurt him to consider it at all. The very thought of it made him want to vomit.

But, in truth, it was so easily done.

He truly could have just forgotten to close and lock the door with the dog inside.

If the sequence of images to convince him he had put the dog inside again had come upon him without notice, he could have easily been misled. He would have assumed the wolf-dog to have entered its crate, but it could have walked off without a second look and he would never have noticed. He would have left for school without realizing, and not once would he have second guessed it. He would have simply gone through the motions, believing the dog was lying inside the crate.

Yugi bit back an anxious whimper at the thought. His heart was racing and his stomach twisted painfully. He swallowed hard, then crouched back on his heels once more. The movement nearly caused him to fall backwards, the new distribution of his weight nearly knocking him off balance completely.

Yet, he caught himself at the last moment.

His hand came out, catching the kennel, and he moved to cross his legs to sit in front of the crate. The metal beneath his fingers felt as if it had somehow become roughened up, perhaps scraped with a knife or as if sandpaper had been run over the paint. But it seemed almost stained, as if there were clumps of something like solidified mud where it should have been smooth.

And, when he pulled his fingers away, a gray residue rested along them. He stared at it for a moment, reminded of soot or scattered rust painted almost completely black.

Yugi sniffed at it lightly, scrunching his nose up, and tilted his head in puzzlement. His mind was racing, attempting to analyze the scent as fully as he could manage.

It was almost like that of burned fur and heated metal. When he drew in a deeper breath, it almost seemed to take on a sweet undertone of fresh blood. The metallic edge burned his nose briefly with a sharpened, stomach-twisting intensity. The fur scent grew stronger when he held his breath.

Then, a split second later, beneath this, was a bitter and disgusting smell which settled in his senses and coated his tongue. Yugi felt as if his tongue had grown swollen and was cramped painfully behind his teeth. It made him want to vomit.

He looked the crate door over and angled his head to study it again.

It was similar to the rot that the open wound had smelled of. The door was coated in a thin layer of dusting, like scattered gray sand over the bars, and his stomach dropped as his eyes grew owlish with shock.

The gray rust-like substance coated the metal in an extremely distinctive shape.

It was that of the wolf-dog. It was slightly fuzzy along the edges, almost as if the dog's fur had been fluffed outwards and had deserted its usual smoothness. But the shape of it was overall definitive. The tips of the ears were softly rounded. The cheeks were full. The legs were long and thin. The shape was robust but the chest somehow slender all the same. The shoulders were broad and thick.

Yugi swallowed hard, shaking his head slightly.

It was the outline of the dog, facing forward. It was as if it were standing completely still before him, watching something of interest.

It was not hard to imagine those deep golden eyes peering back at him. He could see the keen intelligence glowing within them and it made his head swim. He could imagine that same dark black fur that seemed to reject any hint of light that fell on it.

For the briefest of moments Yugi truly imagined he saw it.

It was as if the dog had never gone missing to begin with. His head spun with excitement, and then his breath left him as reality crashed over him again. Not only was the dog no longer breathing, staring blankly ahead unblinkingly, it was not there. No one else could see it. He did not even need to ask to know this.

Yugi shook his head minutely, getting to his feet. He wiped his fingers on his uniform pants and his stomach dropped further. Long dark gray smudges stretched over the surface of the royal blue material. The sight of it made him want to vomit and he reflexively folded his fingers into his palm, shaky and uncomfortable.

What was he supposed to say to explain that? How was he meant to truly explain to someone else that the door seemed to be covered in ash? Was he supposed to tell them that the ash formed the shape of the dog that had been inside of it formerly? And what of the smell that came with it?

Yugi shook his head again, turning towards the door for only a moment. He chewed his cheek until it ached and throbbed, blood spilling over his tongue.

His mom had left for the main clinic an hour before in order to check on the animals there when she had failed to find any trace of the hybrid in question. His grandpa had decided to go back to sleep, suggesting that Yugi do the same and then saying the obligatory words that the dog was likely fine. The small teen could not blame him for his impatience when Yugi had snapped at him. Nor did he fault him for wanting to go back to sleep instead of spending two hours going over the millions of possibilities that had come to Yugi during the last two hours.

Had his grandpa even tried to stay with him that length of time, Yugi would have fought to have him leave and get some sleep anyways. Regardless of how terrible he felt, he was not going to allow his grandpa to become sick from lack of rest.

He may have been scared of the situation. He may have feared the worst concerning his hallucinations. But he would never push upon his grandpa's health.

Yugi drew in a deep breath.

There was no need to remain there. He would not figure out what had happened with the dog. He knew that. He would not find any sense of understanding. And it was not as if there was any reason to truly attempt to find answers now.

He had no reason to stay.

He had no reason to remain looking.

Yugi was still extremely curious. And it burned at his nerve endings and chased his racing thoughts. But he could not keep wasting his time looking. He would not get anything for his efforts.

But he still could not dismiss the incident completely.

The thoughts plagued him too viciously to push aside fully.

He even had the impulse to see if perhaps he could take a sample of the ash to school and put it under the microscope to study it. He could not truly compare it to anything else, but he had the feeling that he could at least try to find something of an answer. He wanted to smell it again. And then maybe he could list off the chemicals that must have existed in it to make it smell so strange.

He wanted, more than ever—more than anything—to see if he could list off every hint of a scent which came to him then.

---

Yugi draped the Bair Hugger over the collie mix's abdomen, helping it to retain its body temperature. Then he covered each of its white paws with socks, keeping away the possibility of losing body heat. His mom finished turning on the anesthetic machine seconds later, glancing at him momentary. He ignored her and moved to grab some of the instruments she'd asked for formerly.

He handed her the antibacterial cleanse as she pulled the dog's lips back to expose the top set of its teeth. She washed the large molars and canines first. The grate beneath its muzzle resounded with the harsh sound of the cleanser dripping through the metal. The ultrasonic scaler came to life with a high-pitched squeal, vibrating against the medium-sized spikes of enamel.

Yugi was uneasy in the silence. But his mother was not. She had no reason to be.

Kasumi had not bothered to explain to him what was happening as she normally would any other procedure. He had shadowed enough of the dentals to know them well enough, however. He could list off the steps of them, so he was not bothered by the cold shoulder in that sense. In truth, he was satisfied to watch her double-check her work on the plaque solution. The dirty areas would soon turn bright red when she rinsed away the light layer she'd administered.

The polishing came next, by far superior to the scaling she'd done. She would do a full examination of the mouth afterwards, then mark away on a chart to keep track of any changes later. From what he understood, not many clinics practiced this any longer, and it was one of the biggest reasons they so often had dental cleanings booked weeks in advance. He would watch her take x-rays of the canine's teeth after and notice which teeth might potentially suffer rotting in the roots.

Yugi made no move to touch the dog again. He was all too aware of how quickly his mom could turn on him.

She still blamed him rather adamantly for the hybrid going missing as it had. It was no secret she was infuriated by it. He had failed to tell her that his hallucinations were back and now the wolf-dog was gone. In her mind that all but confirmed his guilt. She would rather have cut her own hand off than risk something else going wrong due to his inability to tell a hallucination from reality.

He had lost an animal once before, albeit for a limited time. The cat had gone missing for two hours. And he had made a rather dire mistake in the midst of it. He'd stupidly gestured at the cage and said that it was in there. His grandfather had looked horrified, but his mother had become enraged.

And Yugi had been horrified and ashamed of himself the moment he'd realized the falsities of his own reality.

He understood her anger. They were animals. They were pets. His mother was trusted to take care of them when they were wounded or sick.

Yugi felt queasy for a moment.

Usually he could tell the difference between his hallucinations and reality. Usually he could handle them.

But there was still the occasional slip-up.

He needed to be watched sometimes, even if his mother and grandfather and his father did not wish to say so. He wasn't stupid. He knew that they had spoken about it at some time or another. But he also knew his mother was adamantly against it because it encroached on his freedom. And his grandpa was certain that they could keep tabs on it themselves without outside help. And his dad was simply quiet about the subject, though Yugi felt that had to be more with discomfort than anything else.

He suppressed a shiver.

His friends had no idea about it. It was a shallow fear, but he did not think that they would wish to remain friends with him if they knew. They would likely assume him schizophrenic or that he suffered from some other various drastic mental illnesses. And an unstable mental state was an easy reason to ditch someone.

He was not sure how long it might take for them to turn away, but he knew they would. He had spent so much time late at night, when some terrors or hallucinations rattled him enough, that he had begun to imagine it. He had even figured out the order they would turn away from him.

Honda had little patience for nonsense. He would not be comfortable with the fact that Yugi had hidden such a dire thing from them. He would not only be upset, however. He would become intimidated as well. Mental illness was not something you could control. And very few of them could be explained.

Honda was someone who had always built his perception of the world through contemplation and knowledge. He was someone who liked to know how to navigate things. He wouldn't know how to approach an illness. So he would be the first to leave him.

Jonouchi was someone overly superstitious and easily unnerved. If he did not understand something, it tended to scare him. He would attempt to be open-minded about the predicament, but eventually he would have to turn away. He would not be able to deal with it completely. It would scare and intimidate him too much. He would buckle beneath it once Honda turned away.

They had been best friends since childhood.

They had been through everything together. If Honda could not handle it, then it was likely Jonouchi would feel that the ground had been swept out from beneath him. Honda was often the glue that kept the group together. Without him, Jonouchi would likely begin to feel alienated. He would buckle beneath it all rather quickly.

Honda was the one who kept Jonouchi open-minded about things. He was far more levelheaded about things and liked to poke fun at his friend's superstitious nature. So it was only a matter of time.

The last to leave him would be Anzu. Anzu had been his friend since the third grade, when he had let her borrow a video game. She had been the one he had grown up with, though they'd had trouble at first. It was only until some time during seventh grade that they had truly been capable of connecting and understanding each other. She was his best friend, his first crush. He had always been hopeful that she might feel the same, but had always hesitated to ask.

She, like him, held friendship above many other things and would do nearly anything for a friend in need. But there was a downside to this. While she was supportive, she was also highly opinionated. She tended to sometimes try to project her emotions and beliefs without meaning to. She could be selfish in this way, sometimes unable to accept the things that made others different. It was not constant. And usually she could learn to accept things, but it was off-putting.

And, while she was loyal to a fault, Yugi was not foolish.

He knew that she would have to back away if she were to find out. It was simply human nature to distance oneself from and reject things that they could not understand. Anzu would try her hardest but, like Honda, she would not know how to navigate the situation. She would have to back away from it soon after Jonouchi.

If she did truly have feelings for him and it was not just wistful thinking on his behalf, she might try to ignore her uncertainty to stay with him. But Yugi would never be able to forgive himself if it came to that. Both of them would end up miserable if that happened.

Regardless, she would put in the most effort to remain friends with him after finding out. She would try to understand and help him. But it would be impossible for her to keep to a long-term investment of that magnitude.

But maybe that was a good thing. If he would suffer hallucinations so often, then maybe it was better that they turn away from him sooner rather than later. It might be safer for them in the long run, in case he lost his ability to tell fact from fiction.

What was to keep him from making some kind of fatale mistake that might get them all hurt? He had put them in harm's way once before. A run-in with a particularly nasty senior in the cafeteria had nearly gotten them pummeled. He had not been paying attention to his surroundings. He'd pictured bloodied strings of sinewy muscle dangling from scalpel blades in place of spoonfuls of spaghetti.

And he'd bumped straight into the other student. He was one of the nastier students, who often caused fights and caused spats and disrespected students and teachers alike. Rumors had it that he was in a gang and did drugs that no one else would dream of touching. And Yugi had been expecting an attack like no other. But the incident had been diverted when three older students had stepped between them.

His mom shot him a sideways glance and Yugi blinked, turning to her in confusion. She turned away again almost immediately, then flipped through some paperwork she stuffed into a folder. For a moment she failed to acknowledge him. And then she looked at him again. There was a glint in her eyes that made Yugi tense, but her voice was calm when she said, "When you get back to the house, check on the kitten, okay? She pulled her stitches last night."

Yugi pursed his lips, nodding slightly. He could see her attention was still mostly on the dog, however. She hardly seemed to care that he was there to begin with.

But this was her way of saying that it was okay.

It was her way of telling him that he no longer had to worry about the hybrid.

She was working on forgiving him.

It was cold enough to get the point across. She was still upset. But it was also warm enough to say she accepted that it was an accident.

"Sure."

---

"Okay, sweet girl, come here," he cooed, smiling and reaching a hand into the cage. She was pressed against the back of the cage, staring. But she sniffed at his fingers in a friendly manner. And her mewl seconds later was of confusion rather than aggression. Wide green-specked yellow eyes blinked back at him. And Yugi waited, counting the seconds, as he kept his hand in her reach. She could claw at him as she had the day before or she might simply meow again in confusion.

A minute passed. Her tongue slowly ran over the pad of his index finger. The muscle was rough and warm, and her nose was soft and slightly wet when it brushed briefly against the same spot. Yugi let her press her forehead against his fingers as she purred nervously. The noise trailed off abruptly, then started up again a few seconds later.

He reached in with his other hand, grasping her gently beneath her ribs to coax her forward. She let out a second confused cry, blinking and purring again immediately when Yugi pulled her out completely. He cradled her hindquarters and wrapped his other arm around her silky underbelly.

Then he lowered her atop the examination table. Her spine arched in a nervous twitch, fur jerking back and forth. Her tail-tip flicked from side to the other in an anxious tic. Then she kneaded her paws lightly, watching him closely.

Finally she settled in a seated position. Her tail wrapped around her paws. She watched him closely, then meowed again. Yugi blinked at her, studying for a moment longer. Then he looked at her paw and the muscles along her legs and shoulders. She was not tensed as if she might lash out.

Not a single hair was fluffed out of place. Her tail was not lashing. She was not about to reach out and claw at him.

The thought was relieving. But he could not focus on it for long.

He had to bite back laughter at the frame of her Elizabethan collar. It was far too large and seemed almost to stretch for miles. It was only about two or three inches in each direction, but it still made him grin. She was adorable, especially with such large eyes.

"Now, let's just take a quick look at that wound, hmm?" Yugi coaxed, smiling and reaching out to rub her underbelly. He lightly scratched her skin and she purred as she arched her back. Her fur was smooth and silky where it parted in slight black spikes.

She was still purring when he rubbed her back and scratched at the base of her tail. She arched her back further and her purr grew louder. Her side was still freshly shaved, the wound small but deep and the skin inflamed and bright red where the sutures had torn a small bit of fuzz from her bed had covered some of the wound in a light gray like velveteen.

He stroked her head and the feline arched beneath his palm. Yugi ignored her attempt to make him pet her more fully, studying her wound again. It did not seem to be causing her any sense of discomfort. It did not look the least bit infected either. All he would need to tell his mom was that she should trim the skin some and disinfect before sewing the wound closed again.

He could not see anything else wrong with it. It was simply open again.

Picking her up a second time proved to be a much more difficult task. She let out a horrid caterwaul and struggled violently. Her claws cut through the air, then snagged his skin as she twisted and squirmed. Yugi nearly dropped her, startled.

Another loud cry left her. He flinched. Her paws sank into his shoulder. She hissed loudly. The light in her eyes was wild, panicked. Her tail was straight in the air. Her fur bristled like porcupine quills.

She sank her nails in further. Yugi struggled to grasp her scruff. She was stuck, however. Her spine arched in his arms. He lost his grip again. Her back legs hooked into his chest. Then she squirmed and tried to pull up along his shoulder. The action caused her to back claws to cut into his abdomen.

"Ow."

What was it that made animals freak out around him like this?

Ever since the hybrid had come into the clinic, each of them had become skittish and anxious. They shied away from him. The stray dog refused to let him check on her pups. She had begun to snarl and chomp her teeth in an effort to scare him. She would throw herself between them.

He could not touch them. He could not even put his hand on the kennel door. She would snap and snarl and bark furiously. She would bristle and quiver and push the pups up against the back wall. She would lunge if he tried to pull the handles to unlock it. And she would snap at his hand when he undid one.

Maybe its scent was still on his clothing. Maybe it was the medical smell from the surgeries. But the latter seemed less likely. The hybrid had somehow seemed to trigger something in each of them. It was almost as if it had pushed them to the point of fight or flight.

They had all known the smell of surgeries.

So it had to be the canine.

Something about the canine had somehow pushed them into this state.

Yugi kept his grip on her. He caught her scruff firmly. And his hand ached when he held her so tightly. He glanced at the other animals. The dog was watching him alertly. The parakeet's frill of feathers had risen in alarm. Its beak was clacking.

The kitten remained attached to him regardless of his grip. She hissed and then strained as he shifted his hand. But when he twisted, she released. Her claws were still unsheathed. But she was frozen in place when he held her away from him. She hissed and her eyes sparked. But she did not lash out again.

Yugi quickly put her in the cage again. And she sprang to her paws and fled to the back of the kennel. Her eyes were huge and her pupils dilated with fear. He sighed as he closed and locked the door. Then he rubbed at his shoulder and glanced at the animals again. All of them were staring, clearly still alarmed.

He turned away with a shake of his head, annoyed. His phone chimed a moment later. He hesitated. It was likely his mom, asking about their patient. And, truthfully, he was not sure he wanted to answer her. But his entire body relaxed upon seeing the name on the screen. His face split into a wide grin.

Jonouchi was always a welcome distraction from things like this.

Are you still free for tutoring or should I wait?

Yugi blinked, confused, and his first instinct was to question him. And then he frowned. Frustration came over him in a wave. The dog's escape had been overlooked for that short while. But now he huffed in annoyance and shook his head rapidly to clear his mind. He had only texted the three of them earlier to say that he was staying home for the day. He had not explained or even considered doing so.

Definitely free. Come on over.

Yugi pocketed his phone again then glanced at the animals again briefly.

When they seemed more comfortable for the moment, he headed for the hallway door. The staircase was narrow, with a second door at the top of the stairs that would lead to the living apartment of the house. They would shed their shoes in the entrance of the living room where his mom had a plastic tray for them to rest on.

The hallway's entrance was nearest the kennels, located in the front, and feet beyond it was set of doors that led to the examination rooms. The largest was used for surgeries, located further towards the back, and almost every veterinary tool was set around the room a bizarre but organized manner. Another room beyond it was filled with antibiotics and nearly every medication used in the veterinary practice. Spare gloves and other sanitary tools were kept within all four rooms.

Each of the other workers who assisted with taking care of the animals knew the layout of the bottom floor. But only Yugi, his family and his friends had ever been upstairs. His friends were not allowed into any of the bottom floor's rooms but they could remain in the reception area. The desk was only about ten feet from the entrance, directly in front of the kennels.

His friends would immediately head for the hallway to go upstairs whenever they came over. None of them had even the slightest desire to toe the clearly drawn line that his mother had made. It was well-defined and required no reminder of its presence. It was practically a law in the house, something that went unquestioned and was absolute.

He was grateful for that. He did not have to babysit anyone. There was no breathing down anyone else's neck about boundaries or following rules. He had never had the patience for that kind of thing. His friends simply accepting them was a relief to him. The same went for the technicians, who would greet them around helping the animals, and they kept everything professional in that way.

Yugi hurried to grab his algebra book, moving through the hallway to the kitchen. He placed it on the table and headed for the living room to kick his shoes off. When Jonouchi got there, he would see if there was homework and then do it around chatter and comparing answers.

He had begun tutoring the blond in math due to his mild dyslexia. He had always fumbled with numbers but rarely ever with spelling. The teacher had partnered them up for a project one day and Yugi had had to teach him another way to find the answers to the equations. He had been helping him ever since. It was what had made them more than mere acquaintances, solidifying their companionship into friendship and eventually leading to them being best friends.

Jonouchi learned quickly. But his attention span was horrible. One worksheet could take almost two hours. He lost patience when he was bored. So Yugi had learned to bribe him with chocolate bars and dinner if he was really struggling to pay attention.

Yugi was waiting with a handful of chocolate bars next to this textbook when the blond finally made his way up the stairs and into the kitchen. "Hey, Yug," he greeted loudly, with enough volume to his voice that Yugi nearly cringed and instead shot him a dirty look.

"Hi, Jonouchi," he muttered, watching him put his shoes away and come back. He opened his mouth to say something but the blond beat him to it. He dropped his bag into the chair next to him and plopped down with a huge grin.

"You missed it, man! Anzu and Chono turned on each other today during math. She called her out for asking me if I had texted you yet and Anzu flipped out on her," he snickered, brown eyes bright with mocking amusement. "She was so worried about you that she didn't even care that she was talking to a teacher."

Yugi blinked wide eyes. "She was worried about me?"

The blond snorted. "Don't get lovesick on me just yet," he snickered, raising a brow playfully. But Yugi could see the smallest speck of seriousness in his eyes as well. "Anyways, so she got all upset because you hadn't told us anymore than that one text about not making it to school and she had told me ten times already that I needed to text you and ask for more details—"

"Wait, why didn't she just text me?"

"Dude, do I look like a woman to you?"

Yugi rolled his eyes and shook his head, mouth curving upwards in the corner. "Girls are not that hard to understand."

"Yugi, take it from me. Only girls understand other girls," Jonouchi scoffed, rolling his eyes with an exasperated sigh. "You have so much to learn."

"Jonouchi, I hate to remind you of this tragic fact, but you have absolutely no experience with girls. I'm not sure I should take any advice from you."

"At least I know something about them. You don't even have that much to say."

"But I at least have friends that are girls. You know Anzu only tolerates you because I do."

The blond sneered, rolling his eyes again. "I think you might be blowing a little too much smoke up your ass with that one."

Yugi chuckled softly and gave him a wide grin. "Okay, continue with your story. What happened with Anzu and Chono?"

"She interrupted Anzu when she asked if I had texted you yet. She made this huge scene about how she needed to shut her mouth and pay attention. So Anzu turned around and snapped at her about how she lacked even basic human compassion—that's literally the way she put it; no joke, Yugi—so how could she possibly understand being worried about a friend? Chono snapped at her that she should watch her mouth before she wrote her up. And Anzu"—he burst out laughing and then bit his lip, grinning ear to ear—"asked her if she even knew what a friend was. She said it wasn't surprising that she didn't, considering all of her marriage interviews and constant rejection."

His mouth fell open and he let out a low whistle. "You have to be joking."

"Nope. She said it exactly like that. It was crazy." He paused and eyed him playfully. Yugi was surprised he didn't reach over and clap him on the back. "And all because she was worried about you."

He blinked and his cheeks heated faintly, taking on a light rosy hue. "At least I have a girl who worries about me," he hissed. "I've still got more experience than you in the girl department. So, really, I still think I might know more about girls than you."

Jonouchi flushed brightly and then rolled his eyes. "Yeah, okay, Casanova, because you're doing so well asking her out."

"Oh, shut up," he whined, blushing furiously and barely refraining from ducking his head. "You can't just rush it. I don't even know if she likes me like that anyways."

"Oh, bullshit. She always gets all lovesick when she talks or even thinks about you. Please, if she isn't waiting for you to grow a pair and ask her, then I'm the queen of England, Yugi."

He hummed softly, nodding as he looked him over thoughtfully. "You know, I always did think you had a lot of feminine qualities," he said cheekily. "If you just bat those lovely brown eyes I'm sure you would look like a pretty little princess."

"You annoying smartass."

"It's not my fault. You started it."

"Yeah, well, I was only telling the truth. She's head over heels and you need to just ask."

"I think my definition of head over heels might be a bit different from yours."

"Yeah? Well, mine involves a girl who gets moony-eyed over a guy who—if he actually let his balls drop sometime—would be told yes if he asked her out."

"You have no idea if she would—"

"Yugi, a blind person could see that she would say yes."

His cheeks grew hot again, eyes widening as he swallowed harshly. "Jonouchi—"

"It's not my fault that you have no idea how to ask a girl out."

"It's about timing—"

"Okay, I guess we'll all just have to wait for the next twenty years to see if you finally feel like it's 'the right time'."

"That's…" Probably true, Yugi thought despite himself as his cheeks grew hotter once more. He had always been more cautious about things than necessary. He had never truly tried to leap into something without long and serious—almost tedious—consideration of some kind.

The thought of asking her and possibly ruining their friendship—because what else could come of it? Either he made her feel awkward and out of place by asking or they dated and then broke up and their relationship was forever fragmented—always stopped him.

No matter how long or hard he tried to steel his resolve, he would crack. He had yet to fully give up but he wasn't blind to the fact that his courage and motivation were easily shot. The more he considered, the further he crumbled beneath the weight of the possibilities.

Only rejections came to mind.

And each of them ended with him crushed and Anzu no longer on speaking terms with him.

Yugi was in no hurry to test the likelihood of his numerous fears.

"That's so true," the blond stated, smirking as Yugi rolled his eyes and began to flip through his textbook. "Oh please, Yugi, you know you're hopeless."

"Oh, shut up. I'll ask her out when I'm ready to—"

"So, never, then."

"You have such little faith in me."

"That's because I actually know you. So I can say that because I know for a fact that you will never ask Anzu out." He reached over to pat his back, grinning widely with shining brown eyes. "Don't worry though, Yugi. There are tons of guys who are always going to be alone just like you. But, hey, at least the lotion companies will never run out of business."

"Jonouchi!" he hissed, cheeks becoming deep red and his eyes stretching wide with mortification.

"What? I'm just telling the truth."

Yugi shook his head, still flushed. His cheeks were burning and his heart was pounding in his chest. His palms had grown disgustingly hot and clammy. His stomach was twisting. Did Jonouchi really have to be so crass? It wasn't like his teasing was even helping him any with the situation.

All it did was make him want to duck his head shamefully and apologize that he hadn't asked her out yet. And if it wasn't for their friendship he would have asked Anzu to be his girlfriend a long time ago.

Or, at least, that was what he told himself—and he could almost trick himself into believing it was true. He knew he would not have the courage to without getting to know her at least somewhat. He had never truly been able to connect with someone right away. More often than not he had turned away from them for reason or another.

Sometimes it was something that they might have said. Other times it was a look in their eyes. For whatever reason it would cause him to feel nervous. And something about just the mere exposure to others made him want to flinch away.

Yugi didn't think he was antisocial. But he had always been shy, maybe even skittish if one were to ask. But he always tried his hardest to be friendly as well. When he met new people he tried his hardest to be as polite and kind as he could. It wasn't a struggle, but he sometimes feared he came off otherwise. But it was this personality trait that seemed to most often trigger offense in other people.

Friends were in short supply. Many of the girls that Jonouchi or Honda pointed to as admirers were hardly interested in him. Their personalities alone made him cringe more often than not. And most of the time the only things he found to be worthy of appreciation were hair colors, skin tones, and eyes that were pretty enough to look twice. He had not been drawn to them in any way. So it became more a game from that point on. He would try his hardest not to lead them on and they would grow disinterested rather quickly.

Superficial qualities had never interested him, which was why he tried to avoid anything to do with rating girls or gossiping about them. Saying they had nice hair or pretty eyes did not cut it for chatting about girls and the various things about potential in bed and their breasts. He had nothing to offer to the common conversation between them and both of them had yet to let him live down the fact that he hadn't asked out Anzu. Since they had found out about his crush on her they had always cracked jokes about how Yugi seemed to have no idea what he would do in bed with her even if they got together.

"Whatever. You came over to study, not to pick on my lack of skills with women, okay?" Yugi huffed, sulking briefly with a pout that made the other teen snicker.

"All right, all right," Jonouchi agreed after a moment. But Yugi watched his eyebrow rise and he felt his cheeks heat the smallest degree again. The blond was trying to wait him out. He was trying to see if he would whine like he usually did when he gave him that look.

Yugi held firm for a long moment, refusing to budge. They stared at each other, and Jonouchi was smirking within seconds. Yugi sighed, rolling his eyes, and fell back further into his chair. Then he let out a long, low noise from the base of his throat. The pitch changed when it grew louder, becoming higher in pitch and more keen for attention.

"Yes! I knew you'd do it!"

"I hate you," Yugi mumbled under his breath. He grabbed his pencil and spun it in his fingers lazily, watching him for a moment. Jonouchi looked so ridiculously satisfied and it was hard to stay mad. He turned back to his textbook. "Did we get any homework?"

"Well, that's a stupid question. Anzu goes off on Chono and you really think you have to ask about that?" he scoffed. "She gave us a ten-page assignment and we have to explain how we got each answer—she wants detailed answers, almost like paragraphs. Lots of work to get back at Anzu for embarrassing her."

"That's nothing new."

"Definitely not."

---

Yugi woke up to a mouth as dry as sandpaper, stomach twisting. His first instinct was to gag, bile burning a path up the back of his throat. His nose burned. The sour touch of his dreams carried a soft undertone of something sickeningly sweet and he shuddered at the memory. His lungs shook in his chest. He choked briefly, then squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He reached up, rubbing at his forehead with the heel of his palm.

He remembered only the image of freshly shed blood, large pools of deep red highlighted beautifully against white cement and linoleum tiles. It dripped in cascading rivulets of harsh metallic scent that burned his nose like sulfur. He shook his head, the image drifting slowly into nothingness. He was growing far too awake for it to linger any longer.

He opened his eyes and glanced around the room, then pulled himself into an upright position. He rubbed his forehead and forced his stiff shoulders to lose some of their tension. His room was empty aside from the usual chest of drawers, closet unit, bookshelf, nightstand, desk and set of plastic bins. There was nothing out of place within the soft, cold light from the moon where it came in from his large window. But still there was the scent of warm blood and rancid, decaying flesh.

Blinking tiredly, Yugi could already tell he would not be getting anymore rest for the night. His stomach fell at the realization and he vaguely considered getting a refill of water for the cup he'd gotten to take his medication with. When the night terrors had woken him earlier, he'd gone about getting the strongest dose he'd had.

The thought of stretching his legs was a welcome idea, but waking his mom or grandpa hardly seemed fun.

Yugi liked to chew on ice. The fridge liked to make loud grunts and groans when it spat chunks into his cup. Between the two of them, the noise was enough to wake his light sleeper of a mother. Then, after she got up and came to scold him in exasperation, his heavy sleeper of a grandfather would get up.

She would snap at him that he'd scared her, that he could have just grabbed ice from the box like she had so often told him. But the machine was what crushed the ice. And he had an intense hatred of the solid blocks. Some nights he did not give a damn about waking her but others, like this one, he knew he would not be able to deal with her exasperated frustration.
Yugi took a moment to ease the remaining tension from his shoulders. His collarbones ached with the effort and his neck stung. He swung his legs around and to the floor. His feet tingled painfully, as if bugs were crawling over them, and his toes stung briefly when they touched the ground.

The urge to stretch his legs and wander, to get rid of the smell in his nose, was overpowering. He wanted to drink away the cotton feeling in his mouth. He straightened to his full height, his spine tightening and burning as it popped softly.

His pajama bottoms were scratchy against his skin where it rubbed against it. Yugi stretched his arms over his head so the cold air could drift over his bellybutton as his shirt lifted. Then he tilted his head, listening for any other movement in the house to announce his mom or grandfather waking. A long minute passed before he was satisfied with the silence. The refrigerator hummed outside of his room and the clock ticked in the bathroom. Everything else was silent.

Yugi headed for his door, still listening. He glanced down the hall towards their room, then padded to the kitchen. There was enough light coming through the window that it would be unnecessary to the use the bulbs overhead, but he flipped the switch anyways. The artificial glow had always made him feel oddly safe in comparison to the pale moonlight.

Something about the bright yellow cast around the room helped his stomach settle when he was nervous. He drew in a small breath. His tongue felt as if it were glued to the roof of his mouth. He could taste nothing but blood, cotton-like as it held the muscle to his palate. A shudder was coupled with a gag. Yugi swallowed hard, reaching up to cover his mouth. But the bile did not pass his lips.

The fridge groaned loudly and coughed another ice cube into its tray. The hum was harsh for a moment, then faded again. Yugi flexed his shoulders, a part of himself enjoying the stiff ache, and moved further into the room. His legs were tingling as he got to the cabinets. A flash of deep pools of blood swept through his mind once more, momentary but with a lasting effect. He was almost shaking when he stopped short. But it lasted for only a moment as he pulled out a cup and made his way to the fridge.

His hand was shaking momentarily, his palm sticky with hot sweat. For a moment his heart raced and his lungs shook again. But it passed once more. He slipped the cup under the water dispenser, pushing the lever so that the small stream of cold water poured into it. He chugged it without stopping to breathe, gulping it fast enough that the chill crept down his throat and then trailed upwards to give him brain freeze.

His empty stomach felt as if it had been lined with ice. He pressed his cup into the lever again, leaning forward enough that he could hear it sloshing inside of him. Tiredly he sipped at the cup again. Weariness clung to him like a spider web. All he could think of was that stupid image.

The night terrors were going to drive him insane one day. Exhaustion crept through him slowly, pushing at his mind. It ate away at him. And he could not shake the image in his mind. There had been so much blood but he had been unable to see or smell the source of it.

He supposed the smell of decaying flesh had more to do with the wolf-dog he'd lost than anything else. Perhaps it had been unconsciously festering in his mind all day. Maybe it had just been awaiting the chance to creep up on him again.

It would not have surprised him in the least.

He was used to his mind playing games like that on him.

Yugi chugged the second glass, hoping to rid himself of the image. But he was failing miserably even as he swallowed the last droplet. The blood was center focus in his exhausted mind, almost as if in an effort to imprint itself there.

Bloodshed was not a new thing. And his fuzzy memory of the dreams was a common side effect of his medication. It was often the smell that remained in his senses, rather. But it was different now.

Because it seemed almost to be mocking him now.

Because it smelled so much like the wolf-dog had…

It reminded him far more of the brief timeframe they'd become so much worse. He had been six when they were at his worst. And then when he'd turned fourteen they'd become worse than average for a small period of time.

Yugi leaned back against the counter. He was sipping his third glass when he glanced down the hall and towards the doorway's entrance. The door was locked as it always was at night, with the key dangling on the hook on the wall nearby. The hallway was completely dark. Listening was the only way to know that his grandpa was awake.

He rubbed at his temples, blinking and sipping his water again. The chill was just as welcoming now as it had been the first few times.

Yugi tilted his head after a moment. His fingers tightened around the cup in his hands and his palms itched with perspiration. The picture in his head seemed to be growing more vibrant, impossible to ignore.

He hated his inability to think of other things. He almost despised it more than the night terrors themselves. There was simply no way to push the thoughts away enough to focus on other things. His mind always slipped back to those images. It was like quicksand. The more he struggled the swifter he was pulled back to them.

It was constant.

It was like a broken image projector in his mind.

But it was more frustrating than anything. In truth, he was more afraid of the power his night terrors held over him than what images he saw afterward. He had known them since he was six and so he had grown used to it. It was as common to him as getting up in the mornings.

He thought, oftentimes, that the terrors were almost like genetics. When it came down to it, they were just as uncontrollable and unpredictable. Because of this, it became far more constricting than anything.

Yugi had often wondered if he could have dealt with the night terrors if not for the afterimages that remained. In truth, Yugi was used to the consistency of waking up only hours after falling asleep. And shoveling pills down his throat every night before bed seemed far easier in comparison.

He thought it was a good pay off. He suffered through countless sleepless nights and pills in exchange for a more peaceful mind when he was awake.

Yugi scowled after a moment. He would rather not have to deal with any of it. But with a choice between them, he'd choose the former. Maybe then his sleepless nights wouldn't be so numerous. They might even become nonexistent. If his mind was peaceful, then he would no longer have those images to worry about. And then maybe he could sleep through the night for once.

He would no longer have a reason to stay up all night with his mind circling around the thought of those images if they didn't exist anymore.

He placed his cup in the sink, listening again for any of sign of his mother or grandfather waking. His grandpa was awake, he knew, but he wasn't coming out just yet. The thought was somewhat relieving to him. But he was also desperate for their attention.

It wasn't uncommon for them to wake in the middle of the night, especially if they knew he was awake. His mom was a light sleeper so she often woke up whenever he moved around. His grandpa woke in the middle of the night often enough that he would usually come out the moment he noticed the light on in the kitchen.

But he did not think he could handle it if they both came out to see him.

His mother's frustration towards his medication's numerous failings would only make him want to hang his head in shame. It wasn't his fault, but he still felt stupid and pathetic as if it was he who had done it. And he was not ready to see his grandpa watching him with that familiar look to his eyes, like he had been waiting for something to happen and was disappointed that it hadn't.

He was not sure he could deal with them watching him as they usually did…

Yet, a part of him truly hoped that they might wake up and help him to take his mind off his dream. He drummed a finger against the counter, sighing. At least his mouth was no longer disgustingly dry and his nose no longer smelled like blood and rot.

Yugi narrowed his eyes.

A bed creaked. He tilted his head. The direction was easily pinpointed. And relief flooded through him.

His grandpa was awake, heading towards his bedroom door. Yugi listened as he grabbed the knob, heard the click as it twisted. He did not have to look to know Sugoroku was squinting and rubbing his eyes. He knew that his eyes were faster to adjust than his mother's or grandfather's.

But he also knew that he was looking for him as well.

Yugi stayed propped against the counter. He was thankful it was his grandpa, but his stomach still clenched. Now that he was coming, he wasn't sure he wanted to stay there and see what he might say. He licked his lips, nervously crossing his right foot over the other.

"Yugi?"

"Just getting some water," he answered. He pushed away from the sink and wandered to the table. He could see the elderly Motou in his peripheral as he passed the hallway. His grandpa was far easier to handle than his mom.

The sympathetic expression on his face spoke volumes as well. He wouldn't pester Yugi for answers. He'd let him do as he wanted and try not to overstep. Yugi appreciated that far more than he could put into words. Sugoroku followed him into the kitchen after a few moments, considering him, and then turned away to glance at the clock over the stove.

"Bad dreams?"

Yugi almost scoffed at him. When wasn't there some dream that kept him awake at night? But he wasn't about to say that, so he nodded after a moment and hummed faintly. He leaned forward to fold his arms on the table, blue-violet eyes locked on his frame as he studied him.

His grandfather wouldn't ask him what his mom would. He wouldn't say "Do you think we should strengthen the dosage?" He wasn't as intrusive about the situation. His mom liked the idea that medicine could cure anything if someone was given the right amount. It had helped her with her veterinary skills and made it easier to focus on things, Yugi knew. She was an absolute realist and medicine was a tangible cure. It could be held and influenced. It could be molded to one's various needs and desires. The medical field was constantly growing and expanding and it was often at the core of his mother's personality.

Yugi thought that might have been where he got his own love for biochemistry and science. He loved learning the scientific side of things, especially those which involved animals and their various defense mechanisms.

But the medical side of it all but bored him. Becoming a veterinarian was not what he had always pictured himself doing when he was younger. But he was still curious about it. And sometimes that was all that saved him from looking all the more exhausted when he was being taught about it.

It was hardly his ambition. But he would never say that to his mother. He didn't handle disappointment well. And he was already on point for a scholarship to a veterinary college when he graduated. And what would he do instead of the college that his mother had been so excited about? He'd made it his first of the top five he'd considered because she'd loved it so much.

His life was already mapped out.

He had no plans to change that.

"How long have you been in here?" his grandpa asked after a moment. His expression was a mix of curiosity and sympathy, something that Yugi did not fully recognize.

"Only a few minutes."

Sugoroku nodded and moved around the table to take a seat in front of him. "Well, if you want to talk…"

Yugi smiled at him, shaking his head. His grandpa always offered to listen if he wanted to talk. And Yugi only took this offer seriously because of the fact that he knew his grandpa would not take it away at any point, nor push or judge him. His mother tended to be the opposite in that regard. She pushed and judged—though Yugi was not always sure she meant to—and it made him reluctant to go to her when things were wrong.

Silence passed between them. Yugi laid his head in his arms, chin on his right elbow. He waited for his grandpa to speak again. But instead something light and feathery touched at his senses, much akin the smell of flowers, and it made him stop short. The scent lingered much like the smell of decaying flesh in his dreams, and he blinked wide eyes in bewilderment.

"Is that lavender?"

His grandpa gave him a small smile, winking. "Yes, but I want to know where the peppermint is," he announced. Yugi blinked, tilting his head in surprise at the request. He must have had some kind of oil or lotion or something that he had failed to notice until that moment. He sniffed again, tilting his head once more.

No, it wasn't a oil or lotion or anything like that. His grandfather had pushed the air freshener back into the wall with his chair.

"The peppermint?" he repeated after a moment. He narrowed his eyes and sat up a little straighter. There were no pots turned over with herbs beneath them. And the disgusting lavender smell hid away any other smells that the kitchen had to offer. "You aren't exactly set up for that, Grandpa."

"I set it up yesterday morning, after the dog escaped." Yugi raised a brow at the older male's smug tone. He had set it up then? He tilted his head to the side, bewildered. Why hadn't he noticed before? Had he been so distracted and distraught? "It's around here somewhere but you'll have to find it."

Yugi bit his cheek, glancing around slowly. "Oh, so…this is a treasure hunt then."

"If can call a handful of peppermint leaves treasure, then yes, I suppose so."

Skeptical of the statement, Yugi got to his feet again with a small intake of breath. He ignored the harsh pang of lavender and wrinkled his nose at the way it burned his nose. He blinked lazily towards the cabinets, titling his head after a moment. His grandpa had always been fascinated by his hyperosmia, his heightened sense of smell. He had made a game of testing it to see if it had gotten worse—or better, as his grandpa tended to think—over the years.

He had always enjoyed putting strong-scented herbs in metal pots and pans and asking him where each was. He would point them out quickly in order to try to get it over with. But then he would grow annoyed and flustered, as his grandpa often continued to test him even when his temper was showing. He would keep going until Yugi would snap at him, no longer able to take it.

The problem was that his grandpa was extremely excited about it. And so he would overlook the signs of Yugi's frustration. He would then take it too far and Yugi would become more and more upset as the seconds passed. Yugi would be okay with a few tests, but he lost interest and then patience quickly afterwards. It was only when his eyes flashed or his face morphed into a scowl that his grandpa would stop.

Yugi had never been happy with his acute sense of smell. It was far more a burden than anything else and it, like his constant interruption of sleep, drove him insane. He did not enjoy the way stronger smells burned his nose or seemed to linger forever. He did not like the way that they even caused his head to throb or his mouth to dry out. And so he despised it whenever it was mentioned aloud in any fashion.

When Jonouchi had found out about it, he'd teased him endlessly that he was like a bloodhound. He had laughed and joked with him about it constantly afterwards. And Yugi hated it more than he could express. He hated it with a passion that romance authors wrote two lovers sharing. It burned in his blood. It made him want to scream in frustration.

It was plain weird. It was utterly disgusting.

And it made it even more apparent how much of a freak he was.

Yet, Yugi still found himself sniffing the air and forcing himself to ignore the lavender smell. He had to admit that it had to be one of the best ways to hide a scent. It was apparent enough to make him gag. It was even strong enough to make his head swim for a few moments. It was definitely enough to mask almost any hint of peppermint.

"How did studying with Jonouchi go?"

"It went well, I guess." Yugi opened the bottom right cabinet closest the window, breathing in the smell of clean metal pots. A hint of mint drifted forward. But it was too weak to indicate the leaves were still there. They were not beneath a pot somewhere, but his grandpa had obviously stuck them inside there for a few short minutes. "He tends to drown me out every now and then."

"How many candy bars did you have to give him?"

"Five." Yugi snorted when he remembered the way Jonouchi had wolfed them down as if he had never eaten before. "And I nearly lost a hand when I told him to redo a problem and I would give him the chocolate after he finished."

His grandpa chuckled warmly. He shook his head and smiled widely. "That sounds exactly like him."

"Yeah, I can't say I was surprised aside from when he actually did try to bite my hand." Yugi drew in a deep breath, focusing and holding it in his lungs. It tingled in the back of his throat, pressing on the top of his tongue as he exhaled through his mouth slowly. The mint was cool as it passed through his lips. The lavender overtone made his stomach flip violently. He focused on the icy touch of mind rather than the overbearingly heavy one of lavender. Then he narrowed his eyes, trying again to see if there was any hint of it in the air. No familiar cool touch of the sharply-scented leaf was detectable. "But he did well past that."

"Good. It's always good when you can help him study."

He said it in that all-too-familiar tone Yugi knew. It was the one that said he thought Yugi smarter than almost anyone else, that it was no wonder that he did well tutoring Jonouchi because of it. He had always been unsure of the confidence his grandpa had in him. Perhaps he thought that Yugi was like his mother, always able to get the point across quickly and efficiently. Yugi had always wanted to laugh at that though. If he had even the slightest bit of that ability, he would have been able to say that he didn't want to become a vet.

"Yeah," he agreed lazily, nodding and starting towards the living room intuitively. "Hopefully he'll pass all of his final exams."

"I'm sure he will if you keep helping him."

Yugi resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Maybe," he disagreed, drawing in another deep breath and sorting slowly through each of the smells easily but effectively. It was automatic after years of his hyperosmia being tested. He had been three with his grandpa had first started it. But it was when he was six that it had become routine and boring. "He could figure it out on his own if he was actually given enough patience. He's smart, just a little…"

He trailed off, his left heel lifted from the floor. His eyes shot to the couch now. His weight was balanced on his toes as he breathed in deeply again. He started towards it slowly, exhaling in a huff.

It was in the seat cushions, he realized as he started forward lazily.

"Did you find it?"

"Yes." He settled on the couch, facing the backrest, and reached into the seam between the cushions to pull out a small handful of peppermint leaves. Only one of them was bent, allowing the scent to come forth, but the others were still perfectly intact. They let out a soft, muted aroma that would never have drawn his attention. It was too easily swallowed away by the lavender incense.

Yugi looked them over. Then he rubbed his fingers over the tops of each leaf, pulling away from the couch. It was comforting to have something to touch for the moment and it calmed him more as he went back to the kitchen. He placed them on the table, pushing them towards his grandfather.

"You're becoming almost perfect at this," Sugoroku praised warmly, smiling and nodding with approval. Yugi nodded in turn, chewing his cheek and watching curiously as he counted them. He smiled wider, then flattened his palms against the tabletop. "That didn't even take a full minute before you found them."

Yugi nodded again, chewing his cheek and licking his lips. "Nice hiding spot, by the way. I almost didn't even consider it." He paused, smirking. ""Mom is going to kill you if the cushions smell like mint, you know."

"Eh, Kasumi never even sits on that couch. She hates it—making it smell all minty fresh won't change anything."

Yugi rolled his eyes, smirk growing. "That's true. She always does try to avoid it if she can," he snickered. He glanced down the hall, listening again for any sign of whether she might wake up. "Either way, the couch is going to smell like mint whenever you sit on it."

"That's okay. I like mint."

Yugi found himself relaxing further, smiling as he rolled his eyes. "Of course you would say something stupid like that," he teased. "You just don't want to admit that you didn't think about that before you did it."

"I never claimed I did." The small teen raised a brow at his grandpa, smiling when Sugoroku smirked and shrugged. He looked oddly childish, seemingly almost to look as if he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and knew he wouldn't be punished for it. He looked almost as if he thought he had everyone wrapped around his finger. "Do you want to try to find the cinnamon? Or the basil? Or maybe the rosemary?"

Yugi blinked, eyes widening in momentary surprise. "Oh, you actually set up for a longer one?"

"I figured after what happened, you might need a distraction."

"Good guess," he grumbled, getting up again and looking the mint leaves over. "When you say cinnamon, do you mean ground or sticks?"

"Ground."

Interesting. "Rosemary stems or just leaves?"

"Leaves—stem for the basil."

Yugi raised his brows in surprise, nodding easily and glancing at the plug-in behind his grandpa's chair. He would have asked him to take it out had it not been for the challenge it presented. He had always enjoyed challenges when it came to these tests, especially when they were designed to be particularly trying.

Using ground cinnamon instead of the sticks was an interesting twist; the sticks had a are more concentrated and solid scent to offer. But it would still be near impossible to find it beneath the lavender stench and the ground spice would be three times harder. The smell could be completely smothered by it all. He wondered momentarily about the rosemary and basil, if they might end up the same way, suffocated by the artificial flowery scent.

He sniffed lightly, wondering where it was his grandpa might have hidden them. He had never truly found any of the hidden herbs by emulating his grandpa's thought process before. Instead he had always acted by instinct and olfactory sense. He'd always figured out which direction he should go, as if unconsciously following his mom or grandpa's footsteps, an internal guide that had to be instinct and intuition.

He still needed his nose and eyes to find the herbs and species, but he rarely needed to think it through. He was used to the soft warm spicy scent of cinnamon, the somewhat bitter earthy mint of basil and the sharp aromatic pine-like smell of rosemary. He knew where they were in the house without prompt. He recognized the scents easily enough regardless of their loss of freshness, and so had little to no difficulty finding them during these exercises.

Now the question became whether his grandpa had thought to go downstairs with them as he sometimes did. If he wanted to ensure more a challenge, he would go downstairs. And that would help Yugi with his need to wander around somewhat. When he did these tests, there was not much room to linger on the things that woke him. And his grandpa knew that just as well as he did.

Yugi was beyond grateful for that. He did not want to have to suffer through another stressful night of lingering wisps of his nightmares and terrors.

He caught only the lavender incense that burned his nose when he breathed deeply. He wiped at it with the back of his nose, exhaling roughly. He drew in a deep breath and held it. He could refocus his efforts if he waited a few minutes to find the three herbs. He pulled his shirt up to cover his nose, relieved that the thick fibers blocked away the smell for the most part.

He could take the diluted smell much better than it at its fullest.

He waited a full five minutes, leaning against the counter. He ignored his grandpa's amusement. And he fought away a small grin of his own. He must have looked ridiculous for doing that when the incense was meant to make the house smell better.

Yugi had always had trouble with them. They were always too strong. And he couldn't stay in the same room as them for more than a few minutes. His mom had gotten puked on when she first used one.

Breathing the fumes in made his head spin and his stomach churn. His nose would burn and he would start to feel his mouth dry out. It felt as if the incenses were crawling down the back of his throat, thick and slipper like black ink.

Yugi stepped into the hallway. He'd smelled the cinnamon earlier when Jonouchi had come over for tutoring. He had been preoccupied with the wolf-dog and its escape; it had done well to keep him from noticing his grandpa on the stairs. But he knew that was where he'd caught the woodsy scent.

He pressed a foot into one of the lower stairs, pausing to smell the small trace of cinnamon that billowed up. He turned around again, sniffing again, and counted six steps with cinnamon before heading for the door again. He could hear his grandpa humming softly and the lavender seemed to punch him. His stomach tossed again and he almost gagged.

Where could his grandpa have hidden rosemary leaves and a stem of basil? Yugi focused on this question before he could vomit. There were plenty of places in the house, in all actuality. But the obvious spots were always the last he checked.

For once he wished he had a dog's nose. It would have likely been terrible unless he was using it for tests, but still. Yugi swallowed hard, suppressing another gag. It would be worse than his hyperosmia, however, and that was not something he wanted.

He sniffed deeply, heading for the hallway. The air was almost stuffy and oppressive. Yugi narrowed his eyes momentarily, starting towards his grandpa's room first. He paused, blinking. There was a small but sharp piney scent, he realized. He turned his head, looking around.

The rosemary was somewhere in his room. That much was obvious. It was a nice little twist. Usually bedrooms were off-limits when it came to any of these tests.

Doing so could breed trouble. They'd have to navigate around mother. And she hated these games. She despised it when her father played these games with him. And it didn't help that she was trying to treat his hyperosmia and make it more tolerable for him. But the night terrors were worse. And so she had been forced to focus her efforts there.

Yugi swallowed hard, thinking of the blood again. It came in immense rivers, bright red and as thick as ink, but as eye-catching as water beneath sunlight. It fell in large drops, splattering against the linoleum. It was gorgeous and hypnotizing.

He shook his head violently, trying to dispel the image. But it was impossible. He could feel it against his skin as he opened the door. It was hot and stick, clinging to him as if with claws. He gagged, throat flaring momentarily. He squeezed his eyes shut, steadying his shaking limbs for a moment. The new smell in the air was thick and smothering, with an undertone that was sickeningly sweet, and the cold sourness beneath turned immediately to bitterness.

He gagged again. His nose was burning. His skin was itchy. Every hair on his arm was standing upright. His throat flared again. The disgusting smell of decaying flesh came tenfold. But it was still not as terrible as when he'd first woken. Yugi swallowed convulsively, choking again.

He shook his head sharply.

The feeling faded from his skin almost immediately. The smell of flesh dissipated. The overbearing lavender incense filled his nose once more. His mind was left blissfully empty for a moment. He opened his eyes into slits.

He needed to find the rosemary, he reminded himself. His vision burned, blurring for a moment. But it was gone with a blink. Yugi ran his nails along the wall for a moment. The pine scent drifted upwards slowly.

There weren't a lot of places to hide the herb, unless his grandpa was willing to risk the smell getting into his clothes or furniture. But Yugi doubted that.

He tipped his head downward, sniffing. For a moment he could find nothing. And then his eyes settled on the doorstopper. He glanced over his shoulder, wondering at the thought. But he knew his grandpa would do almost anything to help him with his night terrors. And it helped that he also got to see how quickly Yugi managed to find it.

He turned back and crouched down, kneeling, to look the doorstopper over. He didn't bother checking beneath it. He'd placed them inside of the coils. It wasn't a challenge if he had just put them underneath.

It was easy to do, but he felt his stomach churn for a moment. He thought he saw something smeared across the top, an imprint of the pad of a finger. He shook his head again, annoyed with himself, as it disappeared again. A faint drifting smell spoke of something sweet and metallic. His stomach twisted again.

His night terror was pushing at his subconscious again.

He rolled his eyes at himself, shaking his head. The white rubber stuck to his fingers, as if with something hot and sticky. His fingers tingled, burning for a split second. He pulled it off, glancing at the hallway again. But his grandpa was still at the table. Yugi sighed softy, relieved, and turned back. The leaves were crushed and molded into it. And the scent came sharper than it had initially. He dropped them into his palm, turning away.

The basil would be elsewhere; his grandpa liked to place things in separate rooms to keep him guessing. He had placed them in the staircase and his room. The peppermint was in the living room. He doubted that a room would be repeated. So the basil had to be in his room, the kitchen, the dining room or his grandfather's music room.

Any of the four of them could easily be used for the sake of playing with him. They all had rather nice hiding spots. He could list off several without much thought. But why plant it there when Yugi's own room could be utilized as well?

He had used his room, so why not Yugi's, too?

He straightened again. His palm was itchy where the rosemary touched his sweating skin. Yugi vaguely considered wiping his palms on his pants but shrugged it off. He didn't want to smell like rosemary. It was bad enough that he apparently still smelled like the wolf-dog. The animals acted as if the hybrid's scent were burned into his skin and clothing.

He had already thrown his entire wardrobe into the washer when Jonouchi had left. And he'd taken a shower immediately after they were in the dryer. So he was hoping that it had done away with the scent entirely. He was extremely hopeful.

But he was confused as well. Normally a canine's scent was not so strong. And he wondered if something could have caused it to cling to him so powerfully. He had spent over an hour theorizing, wondering if maybe it had a chemical in it like skunk spray. Maybe it simply clung and refused to fade.

His stomach dropped and his heart skipped a beat.

Water mixing with n-butyl mercaptan only made it far stronger and more pronounced. If the hybrid did somehow have a similar chemical structure in its skin or fur, then it would likely react to water the same way.

It could potentially explain the canine's decaying smell when it was hurt and its wound open. Maybe the discharge had been mixed with it. Or perhaps what they had assumed to be discharge had been an oil like a skunk's perfume.

But then, if he had touched it and it was a similar chemical structure to n-butyl mercaptan, shouldn't it have caused sever discomfort when he had touched it? Skunk spray was said to cause acute pain and temporarily blind a potential predator. But skunks had limited quantities from those sacs and the dog had not seemed to share that.

Its wound had seemed to simply expel it. But then, the cells had seemingly died away as well. And it made no sense, unless the chemical that caused the stench also reacted negatively to air. He wasn't entirely sure that was possible.

Yugi blinked, starting for his doorway. His eyes flickered around.

Where could someone hide a stem of basil in his room?

He sniffed the air. But there was nothing there but for the smell of laundry detergent and fabric softener from his earlier task of folding and putting them away. It drifted lazily, clinging to the air. He could not smell anything else. And for a moment he wondered what might be worse, his room or the kitchen. Both had such heavy scents to them…

Yugi hummed, tilting his head. He cast a wry glance around the room, then moved to the bed. He could have put it under the bed. But that was far too obvious. He bit his lip, glancing over his shoulder. The kitchen light still bathed the room. Yugi turned back and, beneath all of the chemicals that made up his laundry, there was a soft earthy mint smell.

Yugi smirked, rolling his eyes. His grandpa had had ample time to do this between the laundry and Yugi's showering for an hour. It was just a wonder that he had not noticed it when he had lay down.

He crouched down, smelling the sharp scent. He cast a glance at his alarm clock, tilting his head. He had been doing this for over teen minutes, he realized. Yugi turned back to his bed, taking a deep breath and narrowing his eyes. It seemed almost to be coming from the floor.

He would have smelled it immediately earlier when the steam had come out of his bathroom after his shoulder. The heat would have exposed it entirely. But it was muted even now and there had to be something covering it. Or, perhaps it was sandwiched. That could have blocked the shower steam and kept its aroma hidden when he climbed into bed as well.

He knew of somewhere he could have put it. But the lack of air would have done nothing to give off even the smallest hint of smell. If his grandpa had put it between the mattress and spring box, it would have been smothered. And Yugi could smell the herb like fresh air at the moment.

He knew of only one spot on his bed to fit that purpose. There was a single tear in his mattress. It had happened when they had first decided to move into the house. The mattress had snagged on a nail. He hadn't told his mom about it. It had been his fault more than anyone's. He hadn't been paying attention when he'd moved his bed and the mattress had gotten snagged on the wood beneath. It was a small tear, anyways, and nothing he wanted to have to replace the entire mattress for.

Yugi looked over the ear, pulling away slightly to see the gap in the foam padding. The moonlight did just well enough to give him direction. He could see where the stem of basil was pressed against the thin white cover of the mattress, a leaf sticking outward. Yugi hummed, pulling it out and looking it over. The leavers were all still in one piece, he noticed in surprise.

"The cinnamon is sprinkled over the sixth step, the rosemary leaves were in the doorstopper's cap in your room, and the basil was inside the lining of my mattress," he announced.

"Ah, good job." Yugi blinked at the studious expression on his grandpa's face. "Another round?"

Had it not been for the sympathy in his voice, Yugi would have assumed he was ignoring his growing weariness. But it was visible in his eyes now as well. And Yugi watched him for a moment, his own tone quiet and flat when he spoke again.

"No, thanks, Grandpa. I think I'm all tired out."

He nodded. "Do you plan to go back to sleep then?"

"No, but you should probably get some more rest."

For a moment Yugi thought he might argue. But his grandpa got to his feet instead, yawning and stretching his arms over his head. A touch of anxiety began to bloom in the pit of Yugi's stomach and he waited breathlessly for the elderly Motou to say something. But the quiet stretched between them for what felt like a long minute.

And he could see his grandpa studying him now. His plum purple eyes were locked on his face as he searched for any more signs of distress. He was watching for any hint that Yugi might need him, but it was rather clear that he would not find any.

"I'll see you in the morning then." Yugi nodded, scrunching his face up in mocking disapproval when his grandpa's facial hair tickled his skin as he kissed his forehead. He pulled away with a small smile. "Good night, Yugi."

"Good night, Grandpa." He waited until he had closed the door again. Then he hesitantly glanced over his shoulder. A small lazy stream of water droplets were falling from the fridge faucet in seemingly random intervals. He didn't hear it, however, but he was thirsty as he continued watching it.

His tongue felt dry. The lavender still coated the back of his throat. He felt as if he had not had water in days. His stomach twisted with desire. He started forward, grabbing a new cup. He pushed the lever and his lips curled back, shoulders rising.

He let out a low distressed hiss, swallowing hard.

Thick red liquid fell in a steady stream. It settled loudly, splattering. He cringed, stomach knotting. And his grip instinctively tightened. He could see the chorded tendons straining beneath his skin.

The liquid sloshed. A disgusting residue existed along the edges when he jerked his hand. It was too thick to see through. And abruptly the glass seemed infinitely larger. He bared his teeth behind his lips. Hatred swelled in his gut.

Would it taste like blood too? Or would that be too much for his splintered mind to manage?

He nearly laughed cynically, but made no move to drink. He turned, dumping it into the sink. It was dark and oily, leaving a stain there. It looked like red milk against the metal. Yugi shook his head, turning his head away, and started towards the staircase to head down to the first floor.

He couldn't stay upstairs if the fridge was spitting blood instead of water. And, if he was awake now, it was better to try to make himself useful. He could at least check on the animals in the kennels.

And he could see if he still smelled of the hybrid.

It could almost give him an idea of if the canine had somehow developed its own version of skunk spray. It seemed almost impossible to him. But then, dogs climbed trees, so why couldn't they eventually develop a defense mechanism like that?

The problem became that the breed would be perceived as new. No other canine that he knew of had that ability. But then again, he did not know of any animal that could release an odor like that through their skin. Platypuses sweated milk, but that was different from smelling of rotting flesh. Octopuses jetted ink at potential predators. A species of fish pushed out thick mucus from their skin. Lizards could shoot blood out of their eyes. And he knew of one bird species that was poisonous because of its exclusive diet of toxic beetles.

But none of that compared to this.

Smelling as if they were rotting only when they were wounded was not something he had ever heard of. There were plenty of animals—namely birds—that smelled disgusting, but it was constant. It was not from an exposed wound.

Yugi shut the second door behind him, continuing into the room and using the moonlight to navigate to the counter. The second light switch was on the wall behind the desk, in front of the animals. The bulbs would light slowly over a course of five minutes. It kept the animals from feeling disoriented from sudden brightness. And Yugi had always liked watching them come to life completely. It was something that always made him feel somehow at ease.

He flipped the switch. The bulb situated in the center of the ceiling let dimly. And Yugi felt relieved by its transition. He was not as blind now as he had felt in the kitchen. The lightly slowly crept in intensity, until it was at its brightest and the darkness seemed to fade completely.

Yugi leaned against the counter, unable to stop his racing mind.

A dog shouldn't have been able to excrete a smell like that. And he didn't think any other animal could mimic a skunk like that.

One of the puppies yawned softly in its cage, then burrowed into its mother's stomach again. The white head fell back into position to sleep once more and Yugi glanced upwards. The parakeet had stirred just enough to twist its head around. Now it blinked a beady black eye at him. Then it twisted its head back around to rest in its feathers, eye glued to him.

Yugi blinked slowly and stiffened. Birds had poor senses of smell. The realization clawed at his insides. He'd forgotten all about it. Most of them had amazing eyesight, but not smell. So, it stood to reason that the parakeet reacted to him in such a manner because the other animals did. It fed off of their anxiety and stressed itself out further. It didn't smell the dog on him.

Perhaps it was just unnerved by his physical appearance? But then, nothing had changed since they had done the procedure to fix the fractures in its wing. And he'd had days before that to feed it without issue. But then, unless the parakeet truly sensed something dangerous from him, then it should not have been reacting the same way as the other animals. So it should not now either.

He tilted his head. The small bird turned its face around to stare at him now, black eyes widening faintly. It moved forward along the length of its perch, bringing a foot up as if in a wave. Yugi continued watching the bright blue bird; it hopped down to the newspaper bedding and moved to the door to watch him more closely.

A moment passed. Yugi waited for the tension to spring between them again. He waited for the bird to react as violently as it had formerly. But it was stretching its wings now, lowering itself partially into a bow. It stretched its wings in a long display of feather in a show of affection.

Yugi blinked, smiling in amusement, and raised a brow. That was the parakeet's usual greeting in the mornings when it first woke up.

He spent a moment staring at the small bird. Then something moved in the corner of his vision. His head snapped in the direction of it. His eyes widened as he regarded the source, stomach sinking. The kitten had woken up, her dark head raised and yellow-green eyes wide. She yawned slowly, let out a loud meow, blinked, and got to her feet to stretch her tiny frame. Then she blinked again and stiffened, nose twitching, until her eyes fell on Yugi.

He tilted his head, swallowing hard. She was completely frozen in place now. They stared at one another. Then, slowly, the fur along her spine began to rise in dark jagged spikes. She backed up several steps, pressing against the rear of her cage. Her spine arched higher and she spat at him, a low warning of distress and anger. Yugi blinked at the defensive display, then pressed himself against the counter once more.

If she was reacting that way, then he knew the dog would too.

He sighed at the thought, finding that already the parakeet was taking on the same alarmed posture. That meant that somehow the dog's scent was still in his clothing or maybe on his skin.

Yugi turned away from them, the slightest hint of defeat pricking his insides. He still had two hours before he needed to head out for school. That meant two hours of nothing to do but wonder and worry.

He flipped the lights back off, heading for the stairs again, and trotted into his room with a sigh. He supposed there had to be at least something he could do for school in the meantime. There was that biochemistry study guide, after all. But he'd been hopeful about partnering with Anzu to do it.

It would have given them a reason to be alone for a couple of days after school without interruptions. There wasn't any reason for Jonouchi and Honda to cut into their time together if he did ask. It had seemed like a dream come true.

But now he needed to use it for something else.

He'd have to new plan to spend time with Anzu. Right now, he needed a distraction and that would have to be his biochemistry study guide. It was the only thing that would hold his attention until school started.

Now the only question was if he could make it last two hours.

He supposed if he got the answers, he could use his phone or laptop to do a deeper study. It was a useless habit he had for keeping his mind off of things when he was frustrated or his night terrors would not cease. He might be able to drag the assignment out long enough from there. Or he could possibly just do several study guides at once. With midterms coming up, he had gotten a lot of them, after all. And half of his classes had given them a second one for practice for the finals when they came up afterwards. He could just do one after the other until he felt like his brain was rotting.

He turned on the lamp on the desk, reaching over to grab his backpack from the desk chair. He pulled out a large dark green binder slipping the guide from the front inside pocket. He flipped through it, counting the ten pages and sighing softly with relief at the size of it.

For the next forty minutes he did nothing but the study guide, continuing in a boring methodical pattern until he finished them in the other subjects as well. Then he picked at the schoolwork he had missed the day before.

His mouth grew dry after finishing the last sheet.

He was used to finishing things early in class—it often even impressed his teachers—but he had never gone through so much of it all at once.

His stomach sank.

He didn't have any more work that he could focus on now that they were all done. And now a slow and sinking sense of despair crashed through him.

Unconsciously, he had noticed the link between his intellect and the restless nights.

When one spiked, the other usually came with it. And neither of them ever flourished in small amounts. They grew tenfold or they did not at all. There was never a steady medium. They never faltered. They never failed.

Yugi pushed the worksheets back into his binder pockets. Then he fell back against his headboard with a loud sigh.

---

The kitten lashed out with her claws, nearly catching his fingers with them, and Yugi sighed as he pulled back to shut the crate door. He had been hopeful that after another shower they would react better to his presence. Instead, somehow, it still seemed to be there even now. She had drawn her claws when he had initially ignored her and she'd even bitten his thumb when he wasn't prepared for it. Neither had drawn blood, because she was too scared to truly attack him, but the effect had devastated him all the same.

The parakeet was still clicking its beak every few minutes. And it had flared up again, angry and defensive. The only thing to have changed in the last couple of hours was that the kitten had not lashed out immediately. She'd been friendly at first, allowing him a few small strokes on her face. Then she had bristled and lashed out only when he'd moved his fingers past her neck.

He glanced at the mother and puppies. Brown eyes were trained on him, cautious and locked on his form. The puppies were still along her soft underbelly. Yugi did not even bother with the notion of checking on her. Just the look in her eyes said she'd lash out. And Yugi was not a masochist.

His mom would have found a way around it. She was clever and persistent, a trait that Yugi felt he had only inherited by half. He had always been curious, had always been quick to find solutions when problems arose. And he was her son in a lot of ways, but this was not and never would be one of them.

He took warnings from animals seriously. He didn't question them. If the body language matched the warning, he backed off. He instinctively backed off. He did not want to deal with a painful retaliation from a scared animal.

His mother, however, sprang into action regardless. She thrived under that kind of pressure. She had always been fast enough that she wasn't hurt, whereas her staff did not share that same skill. Yugi himself had no desire to be bitten. He didn't need to experience it to know to avoid it.

He backed up, stepping away from the kennels, and started up the stairs again. Maybe if he could find a sample of the canine's smell on his clothes, he could try a scrape. He could check the chemical compounds under a microscope from there.

He grinned at the thought. Microscopes had always been enjoyable for him. In class he loved to use them to look at whatever was in the slides. He liked the idea of seeing cells and microscopic organisms. It made a good distraction, offering a way to lose time when he truly needed it. He had always been interested in something like that; cells always made him curious.

And now he was desperate. He needed to know if this dog really could have left a residue on his skin or clothes. It didn't have to match a skunk's spray, but it was the closest thing he could think to compare it to.

His skin was crawling, his stomach in knots. But excitement and anticipation rushed through him as well. He wondered what people would say if they found out, however. And his mouth grey dry at the prospect.

He didn't want to be the one to find out and lead to its continuous breeding for the sole purpose of studying and experimentation. There were so many animals treated like that as it was. And he didn't want to be the one who mentioned it—to his family or anyone else—and condemned the dog to being hunted as if it carried the plague.

And what happened if it really did get caught and its blood was drawn?

Did that mean they'd run experiments on wolves and whatever breed of dog it was?

He shuddered at the idea, swallowing hard and biting his lip. The skin split and blood welled up to coat his tongue.

Wolves had been hunted to extinction in Japan. Despite the obvious hole and imbalance their disappearance left in the ecosystem, many were still terrified of even the thought of reintroduction. It was horribly needed, however. The serows were overpopulated, their numbers too high to deal with. The deer were overpopulated. The boars were overpopulated. The three of them wreaked havoc on the grains and rice that were meant to be harvested.

The bears were sloppy hunters. They could not do much to hunt the serows and keep their numbers in check. They were not able to cut the numbers of deer. And they could not maintain the population of boar either.

The wolves had been all three's natural predator and they had done well with the task. They had been named Japan's protectors in ancient times for a reason. They had kept the harvest plentiful, and the harvest was their livelihood. It was still one of their main staples.

But what had changed during modernization was that the wolves were no longer seen as beneficial. They'd been hunted to extinction sooner rather than later. And it was not as if they could not have bred wolves selectively, until they were the size of the extinct species. Instead the wolves were kept in zoos, behind large glass enclosures where people could watch them as they trotted around and were fed their daily meals.

As a whole, Yugi did not see the reintroduction going well, however. Japan was extremely superstitious. And the wolf carried a very extreme reputation despite science proving them not to be the big bad killers they were once made to be. They were ostracized from religion to storybooks for little kids…

And Yugi was not sure, but he almost thought that perhaps the reputation they had in Japan superceded those of the wolves in the states.

So this hybrid, from sheer size alone, would likely scare them. There was only one wolf-dog species in Japan. And it was medium-sized, bred to look like the Hokkaido wolf. And it was because of this that it was extremely unpopular as well.

If the hybrid was wild in Japan as Yugi suspected—as the healthy stature and raw muscular power suggested—he thought he might vomit. There were wild dog packs in the woods outside of Domino. And he knew of them where the ironwork grids were used as a way of preventing potential landslides during back weather. But they were not terribly abundant.

And, most often, Yugi wondered if they were nothing but rumors.

He never heard barking. He never heard howling. He never heard anything regarding the canines.

The most he knew was that there were feral dogs. Whether they actually lived in the woods or in the cities was a different story. And, if they hunted the serows, they did not make much of a different.

If people caught wind of this wolf-dog and saw how powerful it was, they would likely see it as a threat. And if it was seen as a threat—and they thought there was more than one—then they would go out with guns and hunt any of them that existed in Japan.

And, should it be an indigenous species only in Japan, then it would be wiped from the planet. And he hated it when amazing animals were driven extinct. Yugi hated anything to do with animals being harmed, which was likely another reason he did not wish to tell anyone else. Most animals were not truly threats, but people were greedy and ignorant when it came to predators.

Yugi shook the thought off, turning away as he pulled his uniform jacket off. The royal blue material folded in his arms and he breathed in deeply, trying to catch any hint of the dog's scent lingering there. The first thing he caught was the disgustingly sweet smell of his detergent, and his nose ached with it. The second was the fresh linen of the fabric softener. The third was the cottony smell with the sour edge that he knew was the dryer sheet.

The fourth, however, was nothing he had ever smelled before. He raised his head, sniffing again, and tossed it aside. Just as he'd expected, the smell was in the air somehow. It was a strange earthy thing, almost like wet dog, with an overtone of pine and charcoal. He had never run into all three smells together and they blended together beautifully, delighting his senses. He almost hummed, but pushed it away again after a moment. He shook his head slightly, considering.

He didn't know it at all. And he didn't know where it would have come from.

The window was shut and locked.

Had something…gotten into his room?

Yugi felt his stomach lurch at the thought. His skin crawled with unease.

Was that possible?

He himself knew how to climb up using the wood beams that supported the porch. He knew how to use the drain pipe as well. He could navigate the sloping roof with little difficulty. But the window only opened from the inside.

And the lock was still turned.

The window was still locked…

He remembered using the window's lock for tests growing up. He had always been good at climbing. He'd liked challenging himself to get to his destination in any way he wanted. So he knew the best ways to do it. He knew the easiest ways to get up there and which of the tiles was weaker than the next. He knew how to climb up there and get to the window.

But getting to the window did not ensure he got inside. He had tried every which way to unlock the window formerly. He'd wanted to play and test it out. And he'd found that nothing could dislodge it when it was locked.

No one could have used the window to break into his room.

But what of the scent that cloaked his room like mist?

Yugi narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. When he drew in another deep breath, it did not seem to be coming from any particular direction. Instead, to his amazing, it seemed almost to come from the furniture. If he actually knew the source of it, he might have tried to find it as he had earlier with the basil. But even the general direction was lost to him now.

He breathed in deeply again, holding it in his lungs and trying to sort it out. But the origins were lost to him. And so Yugi decided against a third attempt. He turned away, placing his jacket in the center of the bed. And all he could smell was the mixture of detergent and softener and dryer sheets.

He blinked, turning at the knock on the door. He thought it would be his mom, fully expecting to have to explain that he was just feeling off at the moment, but found his grandpa there instead. His plum-colored eyes were bright, glazed over with grogginess, and Yugi tilted his head in puzzlement.

What time was it?

"Hey, Grandpa."

He watched him rub his eyes, the elderly man staring at him in confusion. "Did you even get any sleep last night?"

Yugi realized only when he blinked that the jacket was still extremely close to his face. He could not even pretend that he had been preparing to pull it on. He resisted the urge to clear his throat awkwardly, shaking his head instead. "No, I went down to check on the animals and then decided to do some homework."

His grandpa nodded, looking him over. "Then get some sleep. You look terrible and I don't think your mother would appreciate it if I let you go to school looking like you might pass out at any moment," he grumbled, rolling his eyes and smiling slightly.

"But—"

"No. Text your friends that you won't be going to school today and get some rest, okay?"

Yugi had the urge to argue but instead shrugged and nodded. "All right—but you're explaining this to Mom. Your idea so you take responsibility for it."

"I take full responsibility," he teased, rolling his eyes, and Yugi nodded in approval, tossing his jacket onto his desk and grabbing his pajamas from the bed where he had dropped them after his shower. "Do you want me to wake you?"

Yugi considered the question and then shrugged, smiling leisurely. "Surprise me."

"Sure I will. Now go to sleep, Yugi."

"All right. Night, Grandpa."

"Night, Yugi."

Yugi was actually pleasantly surprised when he woke almost twelve hours later. His rest had been dreamless aside from one immediately upon closing his eyes. There had only been the brief image of the wolf-dog trotting forward and glancing at him over its shoulder. Yugi remembered vividly the way that its fur rippled and its golden eyes glowed with a brilliance that made his heart pound even in his sleep.

He hadn't dreamed past that, happy to find he felt so much better now than he had before. He was rested, yawning loudly and stretching his jaw so far it popped. He sat up lazily, stretching, and folded an arm behind his head while the other remained skyward. It fell into a mirroring folded position behind his head and Yugi dropped his hands into his lap.

He listened for noise, but he couldn't hear his mom or grandpa. He didn't think they were talking or anything. And so the second idea he had was that he might have been arguing.

A few long minutes passed and he listened for any sound of them but again caught nothing. He got to his feet slowly, moving to get dressed quickly in jeans and a t-shirt. His mom and grandpa continued moving around in the kitchen. He listened a while longer before heading out of his room and towards them both now. His mom and grandpa stopped setting the table, glancing over at him with mirroring looks of surprise.

"I thought you were going to sleep the rest of the day," his mom commented in a somewhat flat tone at the sight of him. Yugi blushed at the slight scorn in her tone, realizing immediately she was only so upset because he was worried he might fall behind. He knew she didn't doubt his ability to catch up if he had to, but he knew that she didn't want him to have to do so.

"You slept well, didn't you?" his grandpa murmured, grinning.

Yugi nodded. No night terrors. "Extremely well," he agreed with a smile.

"Good. I told you it would be good for him to take a day off, Kasumi."

"Yes, well, neither of you had better get used to this. It isn't happening often, Yugi." She gave him a warning look to keep from arguing. He nodded, though she hadn't needed to say a word. Yugi wasn't one to skip school anyways, and all of them knew it. He wondered if she reminded him because she felt it was necessary as his mother. "As long as you know that."

"Yes, I know that."

"You had better."

He nodded again almost lazily. "Yep."

She continued setting the table and then glanced up with an expectant look. "I'm going to be redoing the sutures on the kitten's wound tomorrow after you get home from school," she said slowly but with no uncertainty as to the meaning of her words.

Yugi felt his stomach twist but he had no support for an argument if he said no. Instead he nodded and mumbled, "Sure, Mom, I'll help you when I get home."

The Bair Hugger is a machine used to help maintain the patient's core body temperature. The blanket is a single-use disposable one, which is what Yugi puts on the dog along with socks.

N-Butyl Macaptan is the name for skunk spray.