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.

6. Healing

Disclaimer: I do not own Yugioh

Update schedule: Every other day (no update on June 2nd)

Chapter warning: Slight blood, Slight gore, Pus, Wound care, SLIGHT POSSIBLE TRIGGER (?) [Yugi cuts his hand on purpose], Thoughts of death, Thoughts of experiments

Chapter VI: Healing

Work Log Entry VI: May, 1994

May 11

The she-wolf has finally found her feet again. She has grown stable once more, but her mate has passed.

We have placed a new male within her cage in the hopes of copulation but they do not seem to get along well as of yet.

But he is strong and perhaps with her cells so devolved and having taken to the change so well, we can finally bring back the one immortal beast this world has to offer.

He flipped the pencil around a couple of times, fingers unsteady as his eyes remained glued to his worksheet. His mind was still racing even after several hours of reading and trying to push it all away to sleep some. But his thoughts had refused to slow and his body had grown tense and heated to the point that rest was an impossibility. He had been forced to throw his covers off and then sit up and fan himself with the collar of his shirt. When that had not worked, he had pulled his window open so that he could sit with the cold air curling over his body. Yugi had almost expected to see steam rising from his skin into the dark air. It had not happened—by some miracle—but he would never have questioned it if it had. Thinking about it now as he flicked his pencil against his forefinger, he thought it had seemed almost anticlimactic considering everything else that seemed to be going on.

His pencil made a soft rattling noise as the lead hit each side. Yugi narrowed his eyes faintly and swallowed thickly. His skin felt somehow heavier than it had all day. There was a prickle of heat in his blood, demanding his attention, but all it did was make him want to puke. Acknowledgment always seemed to make it spread, as if it needed his attention in order to spread. His palm was growing lightly sweaty and his thumb had taken on an uncomfortable tingle. A small, dull heated ache was beginning to center itself there and his wrist seemed to sting as if he had somehow cut it.

Yugi lowered his eyes to his sleeves, feeling sick to his stomach. His right wrist was still bandaged beneath his school uniform. He had not checked on any of the wounds since two days before. Since his discovery of just how infected his arm really was, he had not bothered to touch it again. It was too terrifying an idea for him to do such a thing and every time he even considered it briefly, those images would spring into his head. He had yet to even clear away all the blood on his neck due to the fear of finding that it had grown worse as well. If his neck was infected, he had no idea what he was supposed to do. There were so many veins and arteries that could easily wind up being hit if he picked at any scab there.

He flexed his fingers and folded his wrist. A small but noticeable sting and pull came with the motion. The tape hissed lightly as it became slightly rearranged and tugged. His bandage remained firmly in place and he supposed it was because of the dried blood and pus turned cement beneath it. When he did pull it off again to clean, he would end up tearing all of the new cells just as he had before.

He shuddered at the thought and relaxed his wrist, letting it fall limp against the table again. His stomach twitched and ached minutely and his head felt almost dizzy and light. That small pinprick of heat had grown and when his heart beat, it traveled his pulse to make his entire body burn. His scalp tingled, almost as if it itched, and his fingers twitched as if with the need to scratch it away. A restlessness was beginning to settle over him as the seconds passed by, almost akin his usual insomnia.

Yugi jumped from his seat and paced for a moment, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. Another wave of heat pulsed through him and his head swam momentarily. His vision blurred faintly in the corners and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly. Bursts of color exploded behind his eyelids and he swallowed to keep from whining with self-pity. His stomach twisted and tossed violently and his head burned with a new tingle that made him want to snarl in frustration.

Groaning in displeasure, he turned on his heel once more and began a brisk walk to the other side of the kitchen. He thought vaguely about turning on the air so that it would cool his skin but wondered if maybe that might somehow make it worse. He was unsure of whether that was possible or not, considering, but he was at least somewhat optimistic that this was not the worst this disease had to offer. Hot flashes were probably in the negatives when each symptom was ranked from one to ten.

The thought made him grin faintly. The actual physical Change itself was probably the worst when it came down to it. The curve of his lips growing sardonic, an uneasy and yet somehow amusing thing occurred to him. When he thought of that physical process, he was unable to address it without it being capitalized. It was almost like the Black Death, requiring an instantaneous and direct title that anyone would recognize. It was not just something that everyone dreaded as change so often was, but rather it was name of something so powerful and immense that it demanded a title. It demanded a respect that most would indirectly grant it were it ever to be brought into conversation. It was a highly demanding and viciously intriguing thing that seemed to somehow automatically make one think of it in an unconscious yet powerful sentence.

He turned again and his walk grew faster, as if he were trying to outpace his thought. He wished it was as simple as pushing away his thoughts to make something like his disease become nonexistent. He truly wished, more than anything, that that was a possibility. Then things would be able to go back to normal again—with a few explanations, of course. Then maybe he would actually find the courage to ask Anzu out like he was always teased about.

Yugi fought away the urge to laugh at himself, because he knew at the same time, without thought, that he still could not picture doing such a thing. He would always still cherish their relationship too much to take such a risk. Maybe, somehow, now that he was thinking about it, he felt that perhaps it was that he could not see a future between them than it was anything else. Whether that was caution or preference that somehow made him think this way he was unsure. Normally he had some kind of idea when such emotions and thoughts crossed his mind.

He turned away again and paced several feet towards the living room and then back restlessly but somehow languidly all the same. His eyes narrowed and focused in on the television in something akin frustration. His insides immediately flared with annoyance at the idea that such a thing as being cautious could be so hindering. It was almost somehow disturbingly disgusting. There had to be some way that he could balance this infection with his normal life. There had to have been. Otherwise there would have been more caught and known of. It would have been impossible to keep contained. And none of them would exist because of the people that would hunt them down relentlessly.

Maybe that also meant there was a cure. Or else millions of them would be running around, right?

But how many were there—truly? How many existed right under their noses? How many were infected and somehow managed to blend in?

And how was he going to be able to become like them if there was no care to be found?

How was he going to emulate someone like Tomoya? He wasn't sure what this disease entailed.

His phone vibrating made him startle, jumping several feet into the air as he spun to face it. A small, almost nonexistent tremble crept through him and he swallowed thickly as his eyes widened in confusion. The screen was lit, the backdrop that of himself and the group, and a text alert showed that it was from Jonouchi. He was asking if they were still on for tutoring but Yugi could not remember planning with him for that afternoon. Maybe the blond had assumed that was what they were doing after school?

Brows furrowed, he hesitantly pulled his phone to him. Eyes narrowed into slits, he read the text a second time.

Are we still doing tutoring at your place?

The message hadn't changed but even while he stared at it and tried his hardest to think of a worthwhile reply, his stomach had begun churning. It was a warning and fear and a deliberately horrifying idea all the same. An instinct told him to say no. Another said yes. And the last told him to be wary it said that if Jonouchi had not formerly gotten over his avoidance of Ushio as a subject of conversation, then why would he have done so with the Burger World employee?

But had it not been the blond's idea to ignore what had happened? Was it not his idea to pretend it had never occurred?

Yugi shook his head, annoyed and somehow disgusted with himself. He was so sick of being cautious like this. He did not truly have any justification for being suspicious of his friend like this. Such an idea was pathetic when he truly considered.

Frustrated, he snatched the phone from the table and sent a quick Sure before dropping it there once more. He had no reason to doubt the blond. He knew sometimes that he didn't know when to let something die, but he had never held it against him. It was not as if Jonouchi did on purpose, either. He just tended to run with something without even realizing. It was actually one of the reasons Yugi liked him so much. And he was not afraid to push and prod and be himself, whether it offended someone else or not. Yugi had always seen that as incredibly admirable because he himself sometimes tended to apologize impulsively if he so much as showed an unhappy expression. That reaction only went away with the longer he spent around them but classmates he rarely spoke to got the former experience whenever he spoke to them.

Jonouchi's ability to speak his mind had always made him grin. He had always, though he would only admit it if it was necessary, aspired to be able to do something of the same himself. He doubted it would ever happen for him, but the thought still sometimes made its way into his head.

He forced himself to halt his resumed pacing and pursed his lips in near annoyance as he caught the sound of the animals downstairs. He was unsure of what was going on down there, but they were barking and the noise was far from happy. They sounded vicious and angry, ready to attack at a moment's notice. For a moment he simply rolled his eyes but something in his blood seemed to grow hot, burning with the need for acknowledgment. His head turned towards the staircase and his eyes widened faintly as realization dawned on him. The animals were going nuts, as they had with the hybrid. Was it possible that the werewolf that had prevented that worker from mauling him and the others was nearby?

Had they even…entered the clinic?

He shot for the door before he could think it through. The barks had grown more rapid and frequent. He snatched the door open. His blood was burning more furiously. His ears rang with the dogs' furious cries. He could barely hear his feet on the steps. He grabbed the bottom door's knob. He twisted and pushed.

"Holy shit!"

Yugi nearly tripped over himself trying to get through the door. He nearly barreled straight into the blond who had been trying to go upstairs. The smaller teen was on his tiptoes on the very edge of that bottom step. The brass knob was cold against his palm. He blinked stupidly at the blond in front of him. That heat in his veins was leaving him. The dogs were becoming quieter. His heart was slowing in his ears.

For a moment he could understand nothing of what had happened. Stupefied by it all, he blinked up at the blond. He almost could not even place him for a split second. Confused by it all, the small teen stared blankly. His mind was void of any thoughts. He almost couldn't remember if he was breathing or not. Then, slowly but surely, everything seemed to leap forward once more.

Jonouchi was standing in front of him. The werewolf—if that had truly been what had upset the dogs—was long gone.

The reality of such a thought was horrifying with just how devastatingly crushing it was.

His stomach dropped and he swore his heart stalled for a single moment. Swallowing harshly as his mind became wrapped stupidly around the concept, his hand trembled minutely against the knob. He blinked and then forced himself to focus on the blond before him. Brown eyes were wide, startled and concerned, but Yugi caught the underlying suspicion that shown there as well. Yugi forced himself to give him a small grin that he knew would never reach his eyes.

"Hey, Jonouchi." His mind was racing to make up for time lost staring at him so stupidly. "Ready to start on math?"

His expression was pure skepticism as he looked at him. His eyes were narrowed and his mouth drawn into a tight line. When he spoke, there was something of a gruff, almost unfriendly edge that made Yugi bristle.

"Yeah, let's do that."

Feeling somehow put out, the small teen barely stopped himself from snarling at him not to stare at him. But logic also reminded him that he was standing there motionlessly and blocking the way up the stairs. He turned quickly, hoping that maybe the blond had failed to notice his frustration. He also really wished that he would be able to move fast enough that his momentary hesitation would fail to be noticed.

He led the way almost trotting in order to put some distance between them and clear his head. He blinked slightly and then glanced over his shoulder at the blond when he got to the top step. Either he had moved a lot faster than he had thought or Jonouchi had lagged behind rather drastically. He was barely even halfway up the stairs and the thought occurred to him as he looked at the other teen that he was actually watching him. He hadn't remembered being asked about tutoring because it had not happened. Jonouchi had just wanted to come and watch him. Because, as his eyes flickered down his frame, Yugi realized the blond was trying to inconspicuously find out what it was that had caused the incident in the alley.

"Doesn't that hurt?"

Blinking in confusion, he wondered if maybe he had somehow wound up speaking out loud.

"Walking like that," the blond reiterated, narrowing his eyes. "Doesn't that hurt?"

Yugi blinked and then looked down, eyes widening. He hadn't realized he'd been on his tiptoes the entire time. His head felt slightly lighter at such a realization and he wanted to laugh out loud as he continued looking. He really was turning into a dog. He had always hated the idea of having to get on his toes for the very fact that it felt awkward to the point that it was almost painful.

Now that sensation was absent but a small tingle in his bones. His stomach twisted faintly as he flattened his heels on the carpet.

"It's uncomfortable but it doesn't hurt." He paused and then shrugged. "I was just trying to see if I could walk like that for a while."

"Uh…okay?"

Yugi ignored the heavy skepticism and slight frustration in the other teen's voice and instead wandered into the kitchen again. Jonouchi followed him a moment later and the smaller teen pulled his pencil towards him. His skin was beginning to feel slightly itchy and a bit tighter with a small lance of body heat creeping through him along his veins. His stomach tossed again and the lightness in his head grew more pronounced.

He spent a moment shifting along his homework around on the table and then finally—when he realized it was inevitable that he would end up looking at and talking to the other boy—selected his math text and note books. When he looked up, he was honestly surprised to see that the blond was standing a couple of steps away, facing him with a slightly uncertain expression. He blinked at him and went to shrug but then turned away towards his books again.

"What questions did you need help with?"

It was the only opening he would give him and he was relieved when Jonouchi took it. The blond sat down next to him, pointing at a handful of them as they both looked the page over. They worked in an uncomfortable near-silence that made Yugi want to puke in distress. He was well aware that the other teen was watching him each time he moved to write or flip the page. He was even more aware of how he seemed to sometimes flinch—only the tiniest been, almost inconceivably—whenever he turned to him. He was waiting for him to do something. The thought was both sickening and somehow comforting. At least he had some instinct of self-preservation, even if it was probably stupid of him to stick around him—even now, when they were only studying.

Yugi narrowed his eyes faintly as he looked towards the blood from the corner of his eye. He was admittedly relieved by the very fact that he wanted to hang out with him in the first place considering what had happened just the night before. That fact alone made him want to smile, a small affectionate warmth coiled in his stomach. But he also knew that the reality of the situation—no matter how much he had hoped otherwise—was that he was there watching him out of suspicion. He wasn't there because of their friendship, or at least not truly, and Yugi wanted nothing more than to have him gone.

He sat up straighter and narrowed his eyes, shaking his head at him. "Are you going to keep staring at me like that?" he snapped in a somewhat brittle tone, eyes glinting.

Because I can't fucking take it anymore if you are.

Jonouchi blinked and shrugged in a jerky, almost pissed off movement. "Depends," he bit out.

"On what?" What the hell could something like staring depend on?

"Whether you come out and tell me what happened last night or—"

Yugi shook his head sharply, voice dripping with venom. "How would I know what was going on last night?" he growled out.

"How would you not? He was talking to you last night. He even fucking sicced his dog on you."

"What the hell are you…?" He trailed off as his stomach clenched and twisted violently. The employee had made a point of saying that he was in his territory. He had been abundantly clear in his declaration and if anyone had been confused, it was even more magnified in the way that he had reached for his throat. Yugi didn't blink, instead watching Jonouchi with sharp and intensely curious eyes. What was he meant to say to something like that? They had all seen it, heard his statement, and he had no way to truly refute it when he had been witness to such a situation.

The blond was watching him closely, waiting for him to lie and deny it. And they were both aware that he had no true way of doing that.

"The dog could have just been a stray. It was—"

"Bullshit, Yugi!"

The smaller teen ground his teeth together in frustration. "The alley was probably its home—"

"Oh, yeah, okay. So what about how you stopped us and went first? Because it seems to me that you knew that stupid thing was there."

"That makes so much sense, Katsuya. I must have known it was there. Even though that is fucking impossible."

The blond burst out laughing, the sound loud and somehow dark with a bitter edge. "Isn't that a lie? First Ushio winds up on your doorstep in the middle of the night—the day after Tomoya was found—and now some guy fucking sicced his dog on you and nearly attacked you in a restaurant. You're full of shit. You know what's going on. I know you do. All of them do."

Yugi fought off a tremor of fear and nearly emptied his stomach. There was a pulse of heat spreading through him and his lightheadedness was growing once more. He swallowed and his throat constricted, stomach twisting harshly. Something in the back of his mind was telling him to run for it, distressed and terrified. Another said to try to talk him in circles until he got fed up, cunning and perhaps amused. The most prominent said to argue and fight him down, proud and angry. The three of them burned at his mind continuously, demanding his attention and making his stomach toss.

The sensation of such a war and the consequences that would follow were almost enough to make his legs tremble. He drew in a deep breath, holding it within lungs that felt too tight, and narrowed his eyes faintly. A cold shiver crept upwards along his spine and a slow but intense pain followed where it touched the heat that had been in his veins formerly. His heart raced painfully as he looked at the other male.

"All of them"? Did that mean that the three of them had all been together to talk about this? Oh, how useful their agreement seemed to be. Had they not all agreed never to speak of what had occurred? But with the way the blond had phrased it, it sounded suspiciously as if they might have just hung around doing that very thing. If they had, it would be no wonder that Jonouchi was down his throat about it like this. Insatiable curiosity aside, he would have been the first to insist on keeping the topic completely snuffed out. He would never have tried to make him admit to something like this otherwise.

Or…maybe he still would have. Jonouchi was always one to confront things that scared him when something such as his friends was involved. His first instinct had always been to protect his friends—be it physically or vocally—even when it was unnecessary. He tended to jump into things fists first and never truly consider it might not be needed. But how was he meant to protect them when he didn't understand?

Yugi nearly cringed at the idea. Jonouchi had been trying to protect them when he had led them all to make that deal. When he had been unable to figure it all out himself, he had chosen to question him. Whether he had meant to imply that they had all been discussing it or not was another thing entirely. Whether they truly had done so in the first place was yet another in a long line of new questions.

Shaking his head, Yugi finally chose the lesser of the evils each option seemed to carry.

"I don't know anything about what happened," he stated slowly and firmly, watching as the blond's jaw clenched in frustration, "but I do know that it was your idea that we wouldn't talk about it again."

Jonouchi let out a bark of a laugh that seemed to echo within the smaller teen's skull. "Oh, yeah, okay, Yug"—he flinched at the use of the affectionate nickname cloaked in such bitterness—"but let's also remember that I'm not the one that guy was after."

The blond was on his feet before Yugi could even think to say anything. He was already out the door when the small teen blinked and ran a finger over the smooth paper of his textbook.

---

"Yugi."

He glanced almost blindly, the action nearly mindless. He hadn't changed his position much within the two hours that Jonouchi had left. He had shut his textbook and put it away with the others after finishing his homework, but he was still seated there. He had recently gotten a cup of water and had played a game on his phone, but his position was constant. And his state of mind had yet to be graced with a change. His thoughts were still abundantly absent.

"Hi, Grandpa."

The elderly Motou tilted his head the smallest fraction of a degree. His grandson wasn't smiling but he wasn't frowning either. There was something in his eyes, however, almost like a silent plea, that made him hesitate. Yugi was holding his glass in both hands, fingers lightly stroking over the sides as if he was puzzled and struggling to find a solution. His eyes were focused and yet far away all at once, and, for a single moment, the elderly man thought he could see nothing but himself in those wide eyes. There was no iris or pupil or whites, only his reflection cast in strange colors over an opaque, glassy surface.

He drew in a breath, nearly cursing himself, but was unable to look away. It was amazing and yet somehow utterly horrifying to see such a thing. He was so accustomed to being able to see Yugi—his emotions, his usual lightheartedness—within his gaze that now he was unsure of himself. He did not know if he truly liked or appreciated what he saw of himself, merely on his face or in his eyes, in that moment. There almost seemed to be something wickedly cunning and devastatingly ebullient within eyes aged with wisdom. His heart felt almost weak as it pounded harshly within his chest and he felt a slight impulse to apologize.

But the moment passed away as if it had never properly existed when Yugi finally blinked. His reflection was immediately forgotten, replaced by twin pools of gleaming obsidian and large rings of a dark, vibrant violent flecked and framed with sapphire blue, all surrounded by blank whiteness. His long lashes cast tall shadows across his gaze but it did nothing to hide the momentary confusion and growing concern blooming there.

"Grandpa?"

Dear gods, I'm sorry, Yugi, he thought mindlessly, forcing himself not to speak the words by swallowing harshly. Forcing himself to blink as well, he drew in an easy breath to help calm his nerves, and then smiled at him. "I was just caught in my head for a second there," he said calmly, watching him. His grandson was staring at him almost blankly, as if testing the likeliness of the statement. For a moment they simply looked at each other and then the teenager turned away towards his cup.

There was something in his voice that made Yugi doubt him. It was something that made his stomach twist faintly, an odd almost alarming note, but when he attempted a focus on it, it seemed to drift away as if riding a gentle breeze.

"Oh."

It was hardly more than a sound, a small exhaled breath, but it was all he could think to offer.

He started to ask if he was okay, but the way that the teenager seemed to be watching him from the corner of his eye told him not to. He didn't want to force him to lie, knowing Yugi was not in the least as happy as he normally was. He wouldn't explain what was troubling him, however, and he didn't want him to feel the need to come up with anything just to make him feel better.

"You smell…like lemon," Yugi murmured, turning his head suddenly towards him. His eyes were wide, hope sweeping through his senses. He wanted something—anything—to distract him. And, what better way was there than testing his senses? Besides that, he wanted to know and possibly document how this infection might have changed them. If he could maybe find a way to stash a notebook and make entries on experimentations such as this one, then perhaps he could find some way to deal with it all. Maybe he could find a pattern or something of that nature and plot around it.

He could skip out on trying to find out about werewolves by simply cataloguing such things on himself. And, when it came down to it, what did he care for other wolves? He had no reason to. He was not one of them. Their lives did not dictate his, nor did his even mix with theirs. Until something of that nature happened—and he hoped it never did—he had no reason to bother worrying about such a thing.

But he also knew that wolf from the murder would show itself eventually. He didn't fully understand why but he knew it would. It was a tacit fact, and one Yugi truly found himself dreading.

"And maybe…" He trailed off, drawing in another breath. The sourness met him first, curling in his nose and tracing his thoughts for a moment. Slowly, he attempted to pull away, and sort through to the second smell he knew lingered on his grandpa's skin and clothing. It was something simple and not especially strong and he knew it well enough but now it was easily avoiding him. His mind struggled to grasp it as he drew in yet another, deeper breath which made his nose tingle faintly with interest. "Flowers…?"

He chuckled as he looked at the small boy's confused and somewhat startled expression. His wide blue-specked eyes were staring at him in pure puzzlement. "Which flower?" he asked lightly, watching as he drew in another deep breath and then furrowed his brows in concentration. The thoughts were working rapidly behind his eyes and he was still breathing in deeply every other minute that passed. Finally, hesitantly, the teen shook his head and watched his face as if for some kind of clue.

"I don't recognize it," he relented reluctantly. He tilted his head, struggling to focus and grasp at the scent and name it easily. His mind was abuzz with the need to do such a thing, his curiosity stringing him along like a dog on a leash. He frowned at his grandpa, mystified by the almost nonexistent airy smell which possessed a gentle sweetness almost bordered upon banana. But he knew that wasn't it even with such a recognition.

"You will when you find it."

Yugi blinked at him, for a moment wondering if perhaps maybe he should say no. but he needed something to make his head stop when it continued circling around his conversation with Jonouchi. He had no reason to truly hesitate so much considering the benefits—a distraction and maybe even a way to catalogue the changes to his senses that were already apparent. It was, for all intents and purposes, the perfect way to divert those immense worries that plagued him.

He chewed his cheek and then loosened his grip on his cup with narrowed eyes. "I guess so," he replied almost without thought as he got up and stretched his arms out. The movement made the collar of his shirt scrape against his neck and Yugi nearly flinched. His choker was still wrapped firmly around his throat but he felt sick at even the thought of drawing attention to it. He had yet to bother looking at it, but if it was anything like his arm and shoulder then he wanted nothing to do with it.

He pushed away the vivid images that burst forth in his mind, of pus painted red and pink when it oozed from the deep gouges in his skin. He turned his mind's eyes away from where he already knew them to be hidden within his blood, awaiting the chance to spring forward. He smothered them and instead looked at his grandpa with a curious, "Was it lemon juice or extract?"

"Juice."

Interesting.

He watched his grandson as he drew in another breath and considered his next move. He could see the calculations which made the deep blue of his eyes swirl and dance as if to music. His mouth quirked at the corner as he considered, and then he was gone to retrace the steps he had made downstairs. There was no doubt that Yugi had caught the undercurrent of metal and medicine from when he had given one of the puppies his pills.

He listened for the younger male but either his ears had grown too old to hear or Yugi was using his stealth. The boy had always been able to wander around silently, whether he had a destination in mind or not. He had scared people on more than one occasion without meaning to and he knew it was used in order for him to listen in on things. He knew Yugi worried more about things that he needn't than he ever let anyone see. He knew he often caught snippets of their conversations about him, his attention caught by the use of his name or the emotional state they seemed to be in.

He was always far too curious or concerned about them when such conversations occurred. And he never seemed to miss out on one that involved him. Despite himself, the elderly Motou had always found himself thinking and picturing his grandson as something of a silent, wandering ghost.

The thought had always made him frown where as it should have been light and playful because, when he looked at him, sometimes that simple phrase seemed far too real for him. His grandson sometimes simply seemed to be a wind, stirring and passing through without much of a pause, there for a moment but gone the next. He was never content with staying still and he moved so constantly that how he managed to remain in place long enough to hear them was almost a mystery to his grandfather.

He looked at the cup Yugi had been holding moments ago and his mouth tugged downwards in a small grimace. The glass was coated in perspiration and the steam that fogged it seemed far heavier than it should have been. Maybe he had a fever, even though it was normally next to impossible for him to get sick. Yugi was always healthy, failing to even catch a cold while he was growing up. Teachers and doctors had always commented on it simply because of how unusual it was. Besides his horrifying night terrors and insomnia, he was as healthy as they came which was something his daughter questioned constantly.

How was it possible that her son was so haunted by hallucinations and restlessness and terrors if there was nothing wrong with him? Why hadn't he outgrown them if it was nothing that required medical attention?

He was still staring at the cup when his grandson entered the room. Yugi made no sound to indicate his presence. He did nothing to draw his attention. But his presence was almost somehow suffocating and tangible in the way it seemed to cloak the small kitchen. He knew his grandson well enough to realize that he was only so quiet in order to keep from scaring him but now it felt almost as if he were observing him like a predator watched its prey.

He drew in a slightly strained breath and hoped to the gods that Yugi failed to notice the tension. He turned to him with a small grin but, to his surprise, the teen was watching the glass as well. Every bit of his attention was centered upon the cup on the table. His body was angled in its direction, eyes dark and somehow distinctly sharpened, and he could see that each sense was angled in upon it.

"What was so interesting about my cup of water?" Yugi attempted to sound casual but he thought he might have heard the tension there. Whether his grandpa caught it or not was another question altogether.

He blinked, surprise obvious in his older features, and the teen watched him for a long moment. Had he seen them too or was it only the condensation where his palms had touched it that caught his attention? Was it even possible for someone to see it without being infected like he was?

"Hmm? Nothing, my boy." He paused but his grandson seemed to have turned his attention away again. "So you found it then?"

"Lemon juice on the door handle and a red rose behind the desk," he murmured almost monotonously, pulling the little bud and its nearly nonexistent stem from his jacket pocket. He blinked as the scent crossed his senses again. It was one of the lightest smells he had ever come across, with only the faintest trace of something close to banana. He looked it over in his palm and his stomach twisted and turned harshly as the color seemed to make his head pulse and ache violently. The petals were so dark and vibrant and all he could think about was his blood as it had trailed down his arm. He held it out to his grandpa who plucked it from his hand with care.

Yugi turned away from it as if it might burn to keep looking. His mind was already alight with colorful and disturbing red images, of pale skin marred with large gashes. Pus, a creamy white with touches of yellow, bubbled up and trailed with it. A decaying smell seared in his mind like fire and he turned away immediately from it all.

"You know that roses change their smells every hour depending on the weather?"

He turned his head curiously. "Really?"

"Yep. So one day you might smell something like honey or banana and then nothing later on. That's why so many people say they smell so amazing."

Yugi tilted his head in surprise at the thought and he wondered what it was that allowed them to do so.

---

Resistance had to be the most futile thing in such a moment. He was seated in class, tired and somehow disgustingly restless all at once. He had been unable to remain still and his skin had grown itchy and tight, burning violently and making him wonder in amazement at how it was even possible he was not drenched in sweat. Yugi swallowed reflexively but kept his eyes on the front with a fractured determination. He shifted to lean forward, eyes narrowed into slits, and drew in a deep breath to squash his frustration.

Jonouchi had yet to look away aside from copying notes. He wanted him to tell him all about what had happened, unable to leave it alone. Yugi ground his teeth together in annoyance and pain flashed through his spine. He had to be hopeful, however, that the blond would let it go.

Was he too hopeful? Yugi knew without much thought that it was his blind, naïve belief in their friendship that made him this way. He did not want to lose the blond but he also wasn't willing to be put in an asylum with padded walls and monitored meal times. His self-preservation and paranoia had raised themselves with harsh realities to follow, snapping at him to protect himself at all costs whether that cost him his friends or not. He had found himself truly uncaring towards the subject when he had been laying in the darkness of his room late that night. He would miss them, of course, but he was not willing to be locked way as a lunatic as he knew he would be teased and eventually led to in absolution when he continued to take it seriously and they didn't.

He curled his lip back uncomfortably, swallowing hard at the animalistic reaction. He nearly laughed out loud, smirking at himself mentally. Had he not growled at another werewolf only the day before last? Where had his immense shock been then? He couldn't even remember if he had been anymore. It seemed so inconsequential and small in the weight of it all. Whether he had been surprised or not, it did nothing to stop his friends from turning on him. It did not keep him from growing more animalistic or make him second guess this new more brutal and primal urge to protect himself at all costs to his social life.

He finally turned to him and his eyes flashed as they locked with Jonouchi's. The air seemed to grow charged, thickened with an immense tension that made the other boy shift awkwardly in his seat. Yugi didn't blink as they looked at each other, too infuriated to consider just how strange his reaction must have seemed.

"What?" he snapped softly, making sure that his voice was too low to gather attention.

His best friend—or was it former?—blinked at the vicious tone but then glared in pure frustration. Someone awkwardly moved away from them, their desk making a subtle scuffling noise rather than a screech against the linoleum. Yugi had the impulse to turn and snap at them as well, feeling irrevocably closed in and surrounded.

A low, distant rumbling made his stomach twist and gurgle and the hairs on the back of his neck rose into a bristle of alarm. He was about to begin growling, he realized belatedly as his mouth seemed to grow dry and pasty. The noise died away as if the acknowledgment and lack of moisture in his mouth had somehow quelled it.

He turned away quickly, the movement nothing short of abrupt, and the heat continued to burn beneath his skin. He swallowed thickly, a sense of shameful guilt passing over him as he considered what he had been about to do only moments before. That hardly seemed fitting for someone he considered a friend. Dogs growled at their owners sometimes but their loyalty normally kept them from biting. And Yugi honestly wanted nothing more than to make Jonouchi stop looking at him.

Dogs growled when they were uncomfortable and nervous. Maybe wolves did that too. They had to get that instinct from somewhere, right?

Yugi swallowed again and the skin along his spine seemed to twitch violently. A painful tic of movement made the muscles in his neck flare. He blinked but his vision felt fuzzy and strange almost blurry. With all the heat in his body making his flesh prickle and jerk, it was no wonder Jonouchi's constant glances were beginning to make him feel so anxious.

His shame seemed to wash away with such a justification. He didn't think he might want to growl again, but if he did, he thought he might at least have a good idea of why he would. It was somehow oddly comforting to know what might cause it and that he would most likely be able to smother it again.

There was almost something akin pride in such knowledge and he had the impulse to raise his chin. He also wanted to smirk at his friend when he refused to look away again. There was a primal need to show his own strength in a moment of being looked upon in such a way but he was almost certain that was simply his ego when it came down to it. Who didn't get offended when someone refused to believe them and continued pushing at a sensitive issue?

"All you have to do is tell me what the hell is going on. It's simple enough."

Yugi slowly turned his head and leveled him with a frosty glare. "No, all I need to do is tell you to knock it off," he bit out furiously. And newsflash, but it's not that simple. "I don't have anything to tell you anyways! Now stop annoying me already!"

"Mister Motou, Mister Jonouchi," the teacher cut in sharply. Yugi's head snapped around, eyes wide as his face drained of color and he wondered in horror if he had gotten loud. The blond next to him was still watching him with narrowed eyes, but he turned away quickly so that his name went unrepeated. Satisfied that they were both watching him, their teacher glanced between them and his voice softened the smallest degree. "Is there anything you two had questions on?"

"No, sir," they both said in unison, tones full of politeness and respect.

"Then please refrain from speaking in my class."

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you."

Yugi lowered his eyes only when the professor had turned away. His vision focused in on his pencil for a moment and he listened to the lead rattle when he lightly shook it in his fingers. His stomach still felt twisted and knotted together and his mouth was dry once more. Jonouchi was no longer even so much as glancing at him, and they both knew it was because he didn't want to get called out again.

Their biology teacher had a single strike policy. When they were called out the first time, it was the only warning they got. He was polite enough that even when he put his foot down the second time, no one wanted to argue. Because this was one of the earlier classes and set before lunch, he would have them eat and help grade papers or clean. Later classes had a full hour of detention with him in which they would be used as guinea pigs to work on new tests and quizzes.

And, while it was not the worst punishments ever given at the school, no one wanted that kind of thing on top of their usual school day. With the varying levels of the building it was hard for someone to race from the top floor to the bottom or even the middle. There were too many students moving about and way too many teachers to call someone out for running. Domino High was different from neighboring school systems for that very reason. In most Japanese schools the students remained seated in a single class all day, safe for lunch, while the teachers moved about. At Domino High the opposite happened. The teachers stayed in their rooms and the students moved.

Yugi wasn't truly sure as to why the school ran in such a way. Someone had told him once that the principal was actually American and so they had decided to run the school like this instead. They had said that he hated the educational system in America, thinking it inferior, and so had wanted to come to a place where the value of student's education would never be questioned. Then, for whatever reason, he had changed the procedure of things just enough that Domino High students were the ones to wander the halls rather than their teachers.

Yugi did not honestly care enough to consider it too much on a regular day. The fact was that he was immensely grateful that this change had been made to their system. He thought he might lose his mind had he been stuck in the same room all day with hourly changes to his teachers. He was too energetic and his skin had always itched violently whenever he was in one place for too long. In middle school he had often dug his nail into his thighs until he was afraid he had split skin when the stings became unbearable. Being stuck in one place as was required had nearly made him insane.

He had to struggle with himself in order to keep from squirming in his seat. Swallowing hard against such an urge, the small teen carefully began to pick at his notes. There wasn't much that he hadn't already known but his teacher was always one to want to know his students were paying attention through taking notes. He thought mostly that it was a relatively smart idea to make sure they were doing so. As with every other educational system, some students knew more about a subject than others did.

Yugi himself was relatively well-rounded in his classes but biology and history had always been his strong points where the others remained average in their steadiness. Jonouchi floundered at math but he flourished in music and physical education, and even had history as a close-running third. Anzu excelled in math and music, which he knew must have helped extensively with her drive to become a dancer. Honda was the one all of them went to when it came to health or contemporary society.

He was watching their teacher from the corner of his eye as he continued with his lecture and pointing out their newest vocabulary. He was looking at each of them equally, with approval towards each pen that moved. But his eyes would grow curious and almost childishly so as they fell upon the two of them. Yugi knew he must have seen how angry they both were and was wondering at the reason.

He would have in his place too. Yugi and Jonouchi were both two of his best students and they never even really argued, let alone had an actual spat, especially when it came to his class. They had, more than once, gotten a little loud while they were laughing at one another, but beyond that they were usually well-behaved. Seeing them in such a new way must have made him beyond curious.

He almost wanted to grin at him, feeling somehow unnatural within his own tightened, burning skin. Maybe if his teacher didn't flinch or look away immediately, he might still be the same Yugi he had been before he had had his run in with Ushio. The thought was somehow disgusting and logical to him all at once and his stomach twisted anxiously with such a realization. Was it possible he had truly changed so much? He felt as if it was, but he also knew he could have easily been blowing it out of proportion due to his mounting fear and paranoia.

He wondered, somehow almost excited, what might happen if they all came to know what it was that had happened. He would be put in an insane asylum and later maybe they would pull him out when he changed into a wolf and run tests on him. Maybe he would be all over the news or he might go berserk and kill all of those which had thought to torture him or make part of a freak show. Perhaps he would die during the poking and prodding or maybe simply because of his inability to escape his padded cell.

The small teen lowered his eyes again to pretend to scribble some notes. What if, when he took that chance to smile at him, he simply returned the gesture? That would mean that he didn't seem so estranged to others as he did to himself, right?

Yugi narrowed his eyes, frustrated with himself. His skin was flashing and a small, almost nonexistent throb was beginning to form in his right temple. All sense of self-discovery had been swept away in a matter of mere moments. A fear had begun to claw itself upwards through his system, making his throat tighten drastically. Something seemed to have swapped within his mind, letting loose a reality that he was unable to fully face.

His eyes, wide and terrified, found themselves on Jonouchi's face as the blond took some more not. How could the blond honestly ever expect him to explain such a phenomena when he himself was at a loss in regards as to even admit such a situation existed? Wondering if it was somehow possible that others would see a change in him that he himself couldn't have brought the reality of such a situation barreling before his mind's eye. Where he had formerly been upset, now he only knew of a blind, torrential panic.

How was he truly meant to survive like this? He already had such difficulty even considering cutting himself off from everyone else so completely. He already felt as if he was losing his mind and something foreign was within his blood and moving within his veins. His paranoia had spiked so drastically and his nightmares had just grown that much worse.

The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end once more and the skin burned more furiously at the sensation. Shame was washing through him now, violent and tearing through him mindlessly, and his head swam. Ushio or Tomoya—one of them had bitten him. One of them had infected him. Both of them were dead now, and so had been rendered useless to him. He wanted to sob aloud at such a thought. Hadn't Tomoya been a great friend to him while he was still alive? Hadn't he tried to protect him? He had probably bitten him—if it hadn't been Ushio—in order to save him.

Yugi felt something quake within his chest. The dull throb in his head was growing tenfold. His skin was far too hot. His nerve endings were buzzing with a violent energy. His throat felt thick, threatening to close.

He was quickly becoming aware of his breathing falling open a rapid incline towards hyperventilation. Small, bubbling whimpers begged to pass through his lips. When the blond turned his head to look at him, the small teen felt his eyes burn. His right shoulder was burning and his hand was quaking.

"Yug?" Jonouchi hissed, eyes wide as he tried to keep his voice level. The last thing either of them needed was to get called out again. Especially because he knew if everyone else in the room was paying attention to him, the smaller teen would only end up even more distressed. Cursing under his breath when Yugi failed to react, he reached over to at least try to put his hand beneath his desk. The trembling limb in broad view was hardly going to be invisible to anyone who so much as glanced in their direction.

The moment he touched him, however, the quivering stopped. His pencil hit the desk loudly. His eyes seemed to suddenly focus on him again. Confusion swept over his features for a single moment. He blinked and then surprise registered on his face. A low, drawn out exhale of breath made a being twitch. Abruptly, with an expression akin shame and frustration, the small teen's head snapped towards the front once more. He didn't look at him again until class was finally over.

"What the hell was that?"

Yugi cringed and swallowed hard as the ball continued to ring. "I…I…" He shook his head slowly, feeling helpless as to how to lie or give him a half-truth. What was there for him to truly say? He was relatively sure he had just had a panic attack and he wasn't one hundred percent sure but he thought that normally didn't happen seemingly randomly. And without an explanation he was pretty sure it would seem that way exactly.

"Dude, Yugi—"

He shook his head again, flustered as he mumbled, "I don't know."

The blond caught him by the shoulder, grip tight enough that Yugi felt fear and then anger swell through him. His movement was somewhat stunted by the firm grip but he still managed to turn just enough to face him. His skin was pulled too tight again and his spine ached violently. His blood was burning, his head still spinning, and his shoulder ached as if he had stabbed him there rather than simply laid his hand there.

There were equal degrees of frustration and concern as he stared the smaller boy down. Yugi wanted to whimper at the realization that crossed his mind. He had registered his drenched jaw and tensed shoulders as anger before he had seen the worry in his eyes. Usually the opposite had always held true. On any given day he would have looked for clues through eye contact rather than body language.

Wasn't body language how dogs and cats and other animals read into a situation?

He nearly puked at the knowledge. Was he…becoming an animal that quickly?

"Seriously, Yugi? You just had a panic attack in the middle of class and you aren't going to tell me why?" he asked incredulously, shaking his head sharply and glaring for a moment. He was far more worried and confused than he was angry now, however, and Yugi could already see his expression softening. "Look, just…You freaked me out, okay?"

"I…I'm sorry, Jonouchi," he said weakly, barely resisting the urge to duck his head in shame. "I…I'm just…really stressed out right now."

"But you're still not going to tell me, are you?"

Yugi blinked at him, fearful and yet curious all the same. What would he do if he did tell him? And what did he think was happening? He had to have come up with his own explanation for his behavior, right? He must have had some kind of explanation for it all. He probably thought it all had to do with drugs, that he was hooked on something that was making him act strange. The thought was almost enough to make him smile but it made his stomach crawl all at once.

"I can't…"

He looked about ready to argue with him, push until something snapped. Yugi thought it would be him to crack beneath the pressure. He was unsure of what might leave his mouth, whether it might be the truth or just him snarling for him to leave it alone as he had been doing formerly. Or maybe he would say something entirely different that might make him worry even more than he already was. He wondered momentarily, if that was even possible.

"All right…fine," the blond finally relented, annoyed. He looked him over for a long moment, watching as he blinked owlishly in obvious relief. "But…if you're in trouble, then you can talk to me, all right? We'll figure something out."

I wish we could, he thought with a small frown. "Yeah…Thank you, Jonouchi."

---

The skin was raised in ugly pink lines, marred with brown and red scabs so dark they bordered on black. Tiny bristles of white hair, almost so small they were unnoticeable at first glance, lay within each jagged mark. The healing skin beneath the scabs was a disgusting off-yellow that looked extremely like pus built up beneath it. Each strand of hair poking upwards beneath the strips of dried blood had a smooth and fluffy exterior when he had touched it. The entire set of white strands had the physical consistency of a cotton ball and Yugi almost laughed at himself hysterically at such a thought.

He looked the wound over once more, swallowing against the bubbling laughter building up in the pit of his stomach. Blood, muscle and sinewy flesh had all somehow begun to come back together in an effort to heal itself. He thought distantly that soon enough these impressive marks would be mere scars of raised flesh. The gruesome holes in the shape of claws lining his arm would begin to disappear when the flesh beneath clumped together enough to support such a need within his body.

The decayed smell had left his senses for the most part, but it lingered beneath something almost sweet and yet bitter at the same time. Blinking and narrowing his eyes, he tried to pull at these three intertwined scents, to separate and then weave them back together again. Mind at a blank, the teen remained breathing in deeply and holding it, trying desperately to identify it. Blinking in a daze, his stomach twisted and coiled violently as it slowly came to him in fragments that made his head spin.

Beneath the thin layer of scabbed tissue, the sweetened smell was that of his flesh where it had begun to heal and was pushing the pus upwards to his scabs. The decay smell was the dead and rotten cells that must have been pushed away and riding somewhere within the creamy expel. The lumps he had seen in his blood which he had mistaken for hardened pus clumped together so disgustingly must have truly been deceased muscle. It seemed to make so much more sense than his original assumption. What else would have happened with the muscle that could not be regenerated or healed? It had to be dispelled somehow, did it not?

The realization made him want to puke but also stroked at his curiosity. For a split second he wanted nothing more than to test his strange theory. He wanted to pick each scab off and drain the fluid so that he could attempt to collect a sample of it. Then he would take it to his school and use the biology lab equipment after school to determine the merit of this idea. Maybe he would even discover what it was that made such a wound stink so horrifically without the rapid decay necessary to sustain it.

He blinked slowly at the thought and his stomach twisted violently. The hybrid's wounds had smelled so tremendously and yet its wound had been healed. He swallowed thickly. Had the hybrid been a human stuck in its wolf form? Was that even what they were called? "Forms"? Or was it shapes? Skins? Pelts?

Yugi tossed the thought aside. He was sure it was probably a matter of preference rather than anything else. And it was not as if it actually mattered.

What he wanted to know right then was why exactly that werewolf had been a hybrid. And why its DNA had been so pure as to test so cleanly and without a hitch as it had. Surely there had to have been various mutations within the blood that would make it appear different compared to other samples when beneath a microscope, right? He was sure his own blood must have been doing the same, mutating and taking on different qualities to allow the Change.

How could such a thing have gone undetected? The DNA test had been to point out its breed, yes, but shouldn't it have at least come back inconclusive? Perhaps it had and so his mom had taken it upon herself to list him as a wolf-dog hybrid rather than anything else. Most likely wolf would have been the only traceable hint of genetic coding simply because of what he assumed it to actually be.

If it had actually been a werewolf that also explained its grand escape. That was, of course, assuming that he was correct and had not hallucinated putting it back inside of its cage. If he had truly done so, all it would have taken would have been for the canine to change into a human again. Then they could easily undo the lock and slip out as needed. But was it possible to change that quickly and avoid drawing attention? He thought the animals might have gone nuts if they had witnessed such a thing, or even that the Change itself would have been loud enough to hear.

But then, what was that dusty gray substance that had been left on the door of its cage? Or the fact that it had all left a perfect outline of the canine when he had examined it fully? If it was a werewolf and had changed to escape like he was theorizing, then what about that? It had no place in such a scenario and it had been the only hint of an actual article of evidence to be found at all.

Yugi shook his head to push the thought away. He would think more about that another time. Between the hybrid and his own disease, he was unsure of how to balance it all in his head. There were so many unknown variables and each of them made him want to be sick. He would have to push the wolf-dog aside for the moment and focus on what it was that that his infection truly meant for him. It was going to alter his life significantly—he knew that much—but what happened beyond that? He had no true idea about how he was meant to prepare for it all. Speculation was nice but when it came to finding results, it was nothing short of useless.

He narrowed his eyes at such a thought. When it came down to it, at this moment, what wasn't useless?

He was used to finding quick, if not immediate, results. He liked experimentations when he was looking for answers about anything related to biology or genetics. It wasn't hard for him to stay in one place long enough to look at the cellular samples he wanted. It was and always had been one of the few times he was able to sit still and not feel such restlessness in his bones. Cells and things of the like had always interested him, though he was often unsure as to why. The subjects themselves weren't boring but somehow they still did not seem to retain his attention for long outside of class. He was always interested and knew how to apply the practice outside of school but such situations were few and far between and it always seemed to go to waste.

Maybe, if he ever ran into the hybrid again, he would compare their DNA and see if he was far from changing. The thought was almost enough to make him laugh out loud. By the time that wolf-dog—werewolf or not—crossed his path he would be donning a full pelt and a muzzle.

Inhaling slowly, Yugi allowed his head to turn towards his pillow. His eyelids felt heavy and his limbs weighted as a slow and painful dread pushed away any hint of amusement in him. His stomach churned and his mouth felt as if it was growing dry yet again. A small but intense tremor swept through him and his skin pulled tight and itchy once more. His spine tingled and the heat returned to his body rapidly once more.

Tired and yet desperate for a way to alleviate the restlessness inside him, the small teen found himself falling backwards against his mattress. His mind was moving sluggishly, almost drawing to a complete halt, and the blackness behind his eyelids embraced him gently as it lolled him into a dreamless state.

He woke to a noise that made his body light with sudden awareness and nerves. His stomach twisted and burned, gargling with the new tension in his system. His eyes shot around his room, scanning for any hint of the noise's source, and his stomach twisted once more. He could not catch much noise at the moment but he knew something had woken him so uneasily. His eyes narrowed into slits and he swallowed hard as he glanced around once more.

The gentle hum of the refrigerator was all he could hear, an inconsequential constant that somehow soothed his frayed senses. Perhaps someone had called his name or one of the animals was moving around downstairs. Maybe his mom or grandpa or one of the technicians was moving them around to let them go outside. Or maybe he had mistaken a movement on his own behalf for a noise…if that was even possible.

He sat up more fully, drawing his shoulders forward to put his arms in his lap. He jumped and hissed, whimpering when he felt the immense pain that came with such a movement. He turned his head towards his shoulder and swallowed thickly. The hairs were slicked and pressed against his skin almost painfully. Small rivulets of white and red were seeping from a small, almost invisible tear in one of the scabs.

The air made the small opening sting violently and Yugi swallowed thickly as he considered picking at the other three. He had planned to drain them anyways, and, now that he considered it, he thought that might have been why it had popped in the first place. He hadn't cleaned them in a couple of days and he had never considered draining them regularly. The buildup had probably grown so immense that it had forced a rupture to his healing skin. That was, after all, why they had drainage tubes for the animals. They didn't want the liquid to build up on top of the wound and halt its recovery.

The only difference now was that—if he was right—the wound was mending itself without outside help. It was pushing the disgusting, unneeded excess to the surface. The constant healing was forcing it to the surface where the scab was so thin it had broken easily. His body was forcing it all out of him without assistance. It was exactly as he would have imagined such an animal so geared towards survival to make it from the worst of battles.

Healing so constantly had to have been balanced out in a way that was both beneficial in the defense and the offense as well as something that would not stunt their efforts if they had to flee. It wasn't as instantaneous as he would have assumed but it was definitely fast. He thought that perhaps if he was fighting and the adrenaline was crashing through him it might have been faster. Blood pumping faster would mean that it spread to the wounds more quickly and if that was the case then the platelets would cause it to clot. When it clotted, the wound would be easier for the body to heal. It was like stitches closing skin and cut muscle. He thought that was probably the best—if not the only—analogy he could come up with.

He licked his lips, bracing himself, and then reached over to push downwards on the scab. He hissed softly, a reflex towards what he was watching, and swallowed harshly. There was no pain as he continued pushing on the thin layer of dried blood but there was plenty of disgust welling up in his stomach. If he wasn't so sure that draining it would help he would have stopped immediately. Small pockets of air were escaping the wound in the form of clear bubbles outlined in white with touches of deep red that made his stomach clench violently once more. He swallowed harshly once more, frowning as he watched the wound with narrowed eyes. The discharge was mostly that disgusting pale milky color, off setting and enough to make him want to puke.

The smell came with it in such intensity that his head swam with each breath he took. For thirty minutes he drew in long, heavy breaths and held them until he could no longer. His head swam and his eyes burned every passing moment but the small teen refused to stop. All four of them were drained and soiled gauze replaced anew when he finally got to his feet again. Staying still for so long and being unable to look away had done nothing for his insides. And the smell in his room was suffocating as he wiped his arm down with a towel to get rid of any residual pus on his skin before bandaging it once more.

He paused only to listen for his mom or grandpa and then moved into the living room to snatch his sneakers and slip them on. There was no one in the house but him and the animals in their crates. They weren't doing much but sleeping in the late afternoon. His grandpa was most likely off to the library or at the café for something to drink. His mom was obviously still at the main clinic seeing as she was always in one place or the other. She was far too devoted to her work as a vet to have much of a social life anymore, which Yugi understood had been a completely different story when she was younger. Throughout high school she had maintained dating and high marks in each and every class. He thought that if his dad was home on break from his business his mom would be juggling work and dates.

Yugi shook his head sharply in one violent jerk. He was actually thankful for his dad's absence at the moment. He didn't think he would have been able to handle hiding all of this from him as well. When his dad came home again he would stay there almost without break. He tended to overcompensate for his absence by staying around for as long as he could. He had, on more than one occasion, wound up almost physically dragged from the house to go on a date because he had wanted as much information as possible on what had transpired while he was gone. He enjoyed when he was alone with his dad like that for that very reason. Despite how uncomfortable he was with being the sole focus of someone's attention he liked how his dad wanted to know anything and everything. It was satisfying in an odd way and he wouldn't trade it for anything.

But he was infinitely grateful for his absence at the moment. He was thankful that Kaiba Corporation had him overseas so often for business meetings.

It made things a lot easier right then.

The cold air made his skin prickle. Whatever residual pulse of heat that remained lurking under his skin was wiped clean from his system. When he breathed out, the white puff of air made him shiver. It was almost enough to make him want to turn around and head back into his room but something else inside of him seemed delighted with the gelid weather. The wind that came knifed its way through his jacket so viciously that he shuddered. Yet there was a new, strange sense of excitement that crept through him. His blood was warmed with it and his bones felt alight. His skin no longer felt tight over his muscles, instead relaxed and comfortable as it usually was. The growing goose flesh along his arms made him shudder but his body was hot enough that he was no longer daunted by the chill of the coming winter.

Still, reflexively, the small teen hunched his shoulders to shield his neck as he hurried along the sidewalk. It had to be at least an hour before curfew came into effect and Yugi wanted to spend as much time outside as possible. He wanted to walk until he was either too exhausted to go any further or to at least burn away some of his energy just enough to be able to go home and not want to leave again. An hour should have been just enough time to achieve the latter goal, though he knew he would make it that way if he felt it wasn't.

The streets were mostly unoccupied safe the occasional car passing along. A couple of students were walking around, most likely returning home from the arcade or café further down the street. Yugi recognized most of them from his school seeing as it was the closest in the area. Most students lived within walking distance of their school in Japan. They either walked or rode their bikes depending on the distance. If they went to an upper secondary school they could live farther away and may need to use a car to get to and from the building. He knew of only two people who went to Domino High that needed to use a vehicle. The two of them lived about an hour away and walking would have put them in needing of waking up three hours earlier.

He was not surprised when none of them said anything to him in passing. He had never strived for popularity and while he knew most of the school by name or class or rumor it was different from actually having made friends with them.

What he had not expected, however, was the way they seemed to unconsciously move away from him, giving him an unnaturally large berth. They didn't so much as glance at him as they moved but he still knew it was him all the same. The thought that occurred to him was that of prey animals naturally detecting a predator. The idea was somehow terribly ironic to him. Humans were the most arrogant creatures on the planet, with no sense of true boundaries or any real idea of what the balance of predator and prey was. Yet, somehow, despite themselves, they unconsciously bowed to that same law and moved quickly away from the stronger species.

Yugi almost wanted to laugh at himself. The unconscious respect and distance they gave him made his stomach toss. If there was ever a testament of how much he had already changed then this was it. It was almost enough to make him want to puke or possibly scream in frustration and jumbled nerves, but that warmth in his veins was almost prickling beneath his skin. A rush of something akin adrenaline or possibly a primal stream of powerful energy made his limbs tingle violently. His head felt light with the pulse of energy and his frustration seemed to drift as if it had never existed. The thought passed through his mind that perhaps he could learn to enjoy such a thing, especially if it made him seem stronger at school.

That was most likely not the best way to look at the situation. Yet he thought there was no other way he could possibly find something good in it. Turning into a large canine was hardly his idea of fun. He had outgrown that silly notion just as everyone else had. He had grown past that stage that everyone seemed to go through.

This time a small, partially hysterical and angry laugh pushed its way out of his lips. He glanced at the old woman who looked at him curiously. His mouth pulled into the tiniest of smiles though he felt it would do nothing to make her stop her thoughts of just how crazy he might be. He turned away abruptly and moved faster until his brisk walk became nothing short of a jog. He was unsure of where the need to begin running came but something his head now spoke urgently of doing so. It told him to hurry in whatever direction, though he was not sure where he was going. He wanted to snicker at the thought; he didn't know a lot of things now.

He didn't know how to deal with it all. He didn't know how to plan his life out anymore. He didn't know how he was going to hide away on the full moon. He did not know what his mom and grandpa might do if they found out. He did not know if there was a way to control it. He did not know if he might end up like Kokurano or Ushio or Tomoya. He didn't know if the Burger World employee would kill him. He didn't know whether this new wolf was truly protecting him or not. He did not even know if he would be able to survive the Change.

He laughed loudly and stumbled over his feet when he found himself unable to run any longer. His sides ached as he doubled over. His head was spinning, gleefully hysterical. His lungs expanded and caved in. His eyes clenched shut tightly. A wave of adrenaline swept through him again. The pain of laughing so hard became a brief passing graze of fingers through his insides. The small teen collapsed into a heap, laughing harder. His blood was pumping furiously. Every nerve in his body was alight with immense pleasure.

Oh, wouldn't that be the rub? Here he was worrying about after the Change when he should have been worrying about the event itself. He was unsure but he thought the Change could easily kill him. If he was going to physically change into a canine he thought it was safe to say he could die in the process. The physical duress he had witnessed in watching Ushio said enough, did it not? But the endorphins that had blocked his pain from laughing so hard must have made it easier, right? Or perhaps it made it worse. What if the endorphins blocked his nerves away completely and did nothing more than shield away the pain while he was dying? A painless death or not, it still meant he would no longer exist. His hands were shaking s he pressed one into the cement. He could feel the cold ground but it brought no comfort and lacked the answers he needed. Dissatisfied, the small teen stretched his arm out further, pressing his weight into the limb, and dragged it across the uneven surface. Small bursts of pain bloomed but he still suspected it was dulled. It felt more like he was giving himself a rug burn than he was actually splitting the skin on his palm.

He laughed again, bitter and frustrated, as he pulled his hand away. There were small stones lodged in his skin and his palm was smeared with two small streaks of bright red that left his head spinning. No, he realized distractedly, it wasn't the blood that made him this way. It was the source of those two streaks. The skin between his pinky and ring finger and index and middle was no longer bleeding. In fact, as he looked at it, he realized they had closed. They were no longer existent and his skin looked as if he had never split it.

He stared at it blankly, reaching with his other hand to scrape away the small stones that remained pressed into his skin. Shallow wounds must have healed instantaneously while deeper ones required more time. Or perhaps it was just that he had not changed yet.

He grinned wryly at the thought, licking his lips. That was a beautiful idea. While his healing ability—rate?—was slow, he would change for the first time and still possibly wind up dead from the physical stress of it all. He laughed at the thought, shaking his head at himself, and rubbed his hand over his pants leg.

His shoulder was not hurting anymore and the realization made him laugh all over again. Maybe it was completely healed and without any fluid to drain again. The thought made him giggle harder, thrown by it all, and he shook his head at himself slowly. He didn't think the reality of the situation could get much worse when it came down to it. He had to wonder what the odds were of surviving the Change. There had to be a reason why the werewolves had gone unnoticed and there weren't tons of them running around in plain sight. Perhaps the Change managed the numbers and killed off the weaker ones like diseases normally did. Maybe if the infected body didn't grow ready quickly enough then they would be killed when the Change happened.

Yugi didn't want to die but he also didn't want to become a dog. And what dictated the Change? What brought it on? What possibly stunted it? How much time passed in between Changes? Would he be able to control himself like Tomoya had or would he wind up wanting to kill and wreak havoc? What if—assuming that Ushio and Tomoya were both born with the disease—bitten werewolves turned out to be like the Hollywood monsters? He didn't want to become one of those. He thought he would rather die than go through such a thing. He was a good person so why would the gods want to be so cruel?

He rolled his eyes, realizing he was being melodramatic, but it did nothing to calm him. If he survived the Change he would have to mold his entire life around it. There was no way that he could think of that would allow him to juggle both in harmony. When it came down to it he thought he would either wind up like Wishbone or Cujo. He would either be in control and able to make decisions and be peaceful or he would wind up hunting people down like the Beast of Gevaudan.

A new series of laughter left his mouth and he swallowed hard as he reached up to cover it with the back of his hand. He remembered doing a small project on the Beast last year in middle school. He had found tons of sites, documentaries and books. Most of them had made the point of saying it had been—and still was by some—considered a real werewolf. Others said rabid wolf but the killings had gone on for years and a rabid animal only survived about three days when infected.

Yugi hadn't studied up on it nearly enough to make his own theory about the beast. He had barely managed to finish the project on time because he had wound up far too enamored with a newly released video game to care. When he had raced through it and gathered his resources enough to put the report together, he had been more eager to get back to his game than he was researching more.

But now he wondered if maybe it was a good idea to go back and do so now. Maybe he would find some kind of answer somewhere as far as the "real life werewolf" came into play. Even if it was nothing for him to take seriously, perhaps just knowing that he would not turn into that would be something of a comfort to him.

He rolled his eyes at himself. Optimism would either get him hurt or be warranted and he was unsure of which he truly wanted at this point.

He guessed when it came down to it all he was able to do was hope that things got easier. Whether that was by kicking the bucket—because who didn't honestly think death was easier than life?—or figuring out how to navigate this new situation, he had no idea.

Yugi didn't want to die but he was well aware of just how easily the wolf could kill him. He still had no idea what it was playing at—an allegiance? A kill? Make him its partner or something? And what did that mean exactly—a travel companion or a mate? He shuddered at the thought, eyes widening drastically. Oh gods, what if that was it? What if they had saved him in order to make him their mate?

His cheeks heated at such an idea and he bit his lip until his tongue was caked in blood. He swallowed hard and then pulled himself to his feet. So what if the wolf had saved him for that? He was relatively sure there were worse things in life…right? Swallowing hard once more, he could not think of any. He knew there were some but the idea was still so startling to him that he couldn't wrap his mind around it entirely. It was nothing if not concerning and distracting and he felt as if his head was buzzing with a new disjointed train of thought. By the gods, what was he going to do if that really was the case?

It would have to be some crazy female looking for some male, right? Maybe she was insane enough that she had seen him and wanted to make him her fertilizer, for lack of a better word. Surely having sex—or mating?—wasn't some kind of instant-love-and-attraction kind of thing, right? It wasn't like with ducklings when they hatched and imprinted—was that the word?—on the first thing they saw…right?

His stomach twisted violently and his mouth felt dry as he glanced around once and then turned away again. He needed to push that thought away. It was nothing he was meant to be focusing on—he would worry about it some other time, if he decided to truly bother with it again at all.

Something new was pulling for his attention, begging for his acknowledgment as his nose burned. He turned his head curiously, nose twitching rapidly as his eyes narrowed slightly. The smell that trapped his senses was familiar. His mind raced to identify it even as his eyes slowly fell upon his wounded shoulder once more. The scent was of sweet and decaying muscle and he thought immediately of the scabs tearing again beneath the gauze. The idea was frustrating considering how much time he had spent worrying over it already.

He wasn't going to examine it in the middle of the street but the least he could do was pull his jacket sleeve off and look it over. If the new bandaging was soiled then he had his answer. He hoped—if it was oozing again—that it wouldn't look as grotesque as it had before. Then again, with the bandages in place he doubted it would show up as more than yellow where it should have been white. Maybe there would be spots of dark red blood but he did not think that it would be too terrible.

He blinked slowly in puzzlement as his eyes burned with the smell. He had not been able to smell it before when he had opened it—or at least not this powerfully. It had the barest of scents before now. His eyes grew wide, spine stiffening as he swallowed hard. That wasn't him. It was either another of the werewolves or the hybrid or a rotting dead body in the alley nearest him.

His heart kicked up a notch and his stomach twisted violently. He swallowed thickly and his next breath came through as a strangled noise. He wasn't willing to find out what it really was. He wasn't about to face another werewolf or approach the hybrid if it was wounded again. And he had no intentions of going near another dead body. The police were still investigating the body of Kokurano and from what he knew were at a standstill. Maybe he would ask Anzu if her dad had found out anything. Or maybe he would ask someone else and claim that he had still at least tried when they said they were unable to give him any information.

It wasn't as if he was unbelievably hot and would be able to flirt with them until he got his information. And he was sure no one would take him seriously at this point. No one would suspect that he had done something and even if he had lied and said he was involved he thought they might laugh in his face.

Yugi was not even sure he wanted the answers in the first place. What if it turned out to be so much worse than it had been that day? Was that even possible? He shuddered and shook his head after a moment, swallowing hard.

"The shadows are bleeding," that voice hissed in his skull again. It sounded somehow different now, clearer, and for a moment he thought he understood it as different timbres and pitches all merged together. They blended harmoniously now, the eeriness seemingly swept away, but he was unable to pull the voices apart. He could not fully count how many or which was female or male, what the majority gender was. He hardly cared but curiosity still picked at his senses. He still found himself wondering and unable to fully push it away. There just seemed to be so many voices, all relaying the same message.

But what did that even mean?

Yugi jumped and spun around with enough speed to knock the air from his lungs. The smell was getting stronger and he had no desire to see what it was expelling it. Without a backwards glance the small teen ran off.

---

"So…how long was that ace of spades in your sleeve, Grandpa?" he asked dryly, not bothering to look up from his own cards. The elderly Motou paused in front of him, fingers posed to pull two cards out and lay them on the table between them. For a moment he merely looked at the pieces of cardboard and then he gazed at his grandson with an unreadable expression. Yugi refused to look up, realizing belatedly how unusual and seemingly accusatory such a question was considering his tone of voice. Being unable to read his expression at that moment could easily have been a blessing as far as that was concerned. He didn't want the shock and hurt that he knew most probably claimed his facial features.

A small flicker of guilt in the pit of his stomach made him want to duck his head but he did not give in to such an impulse. Bowing his head would have given him the idea to apologize and jump up to leave and hide away in his room. It was a stupid thing to hold onto but he had been right. His grandpa had cheated. So what if his voice had come out like it had? He wanted to roll his eyes at himself. It wasn't worth even worrying over like this. His grandpa was most likely over it anyways.

But why was he staring at him like that? Why had he not said anything yet? He should have been denying it until Yugi huffed at him and let it slip by. But he wasn't doing that and the small teen had the idea that he wanted him to look at him.

He hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether it was stubbornness that kept his eyes downwards or that brief bite of guilt. Either way, very slowly, his eyes went from his king, queen, jack and ace to his grandpa's face. His stomach twisted and his mouth grew dry with displeasure.

"How did you know about that? You weren't even looking at me."

Yugi watched him through his lashes even as he shifted away from the table enough to rest against his chair uncomfortably. His hands rested on the table for a moment and his stomach coiled even more as his eyes narrowed faintly. His right hand sat atop the smooth surface of the cards and his skin felt suddenly tight and sweaty. The hairs on the back of his neck were rising and he had no idea why but something like suspicion was slowly washing over him. Eyeing him warily for a moment, his voice came out in a soft mumble.

"I saw you out of the corner of my eye when you decided to pull it up."

His expression grew tenfold and Yugi felt his spine stiffen violently once more.

"You saw me do it?"

"Yes, you tried to use your cards held in between your ring and pinky finger to hide it and then used your index and middle to slowly pull it out."

His expression was growing astonished and Yugi felt a scowl begin to overtake his features.

"That's not exactly how you taught me to play a game," he hissed, voice bordering on scathing. "What happened to never cheating because it was bad sportsmanship? Is that going to just become 'Don't cheat unless you know you won't get caught'?"

"No, you should never cheat, my boy." His expression had yet to change and already Yugi felt something burning angrily inside of him. "I was merely seeing if you would notice."

"When I asked if you wanted to play poker, I was not inviting you to test me."

He didn't even have the decency to look ashamed. Instead his face split further with the widened grin of meritorious delight, all of it aimed unabashedly at his grandson's original statement. Why his words provoked such a strong response was beyond him. Calling him out on cheating and practically sneering at his morals of never cheating didn't exactly warrant being praised. His frustration was not something to bring about such pride in those old, wise plum-colored eyes.

Yugi shook his head, almost ashamed that he did not feel his grandfather's emanating exuberance. He did not share that same seemingly shrewd pride. He was unable to connect with these powerful emotions and the thought was both saddening and enraging. Why was he so unable to understand these feelings? Shouldn't he have been able to share them with him like a normal person?

Maybe it was stress. But how could it be? He had not been stressed his entire life. Yet he had always been unable to understand his grandfather during moments such as these. He had always been shaken by his inability though he had never entertained the thought of admitting such a thing. He had always been told he was most like the elderly man before him and yet there had seemingly been a wall between them. It was a barrier that had seemed thin at first, almost a sliver or a thin plate of glass but it had fluctuated over the years and had grown so immense that Yugi had begun to picture it as a chasm instead. He had known somewhere in the back of his mind what it was, how rapid its growth was becoming, and there had never been a hint towards stopping it.

He was unable to recognize who it came from—his grandpa or himself or both. He could not determine when and where it had begun. He had no concept of how or why it had even come into existence. Despite his numerous attempts at bridging the gap it had merely cracked and crumbled beneath him, all of them falling flat and dissolving into a premature nothingness that made him cringe.

Being unable to understand and connect with him over whatever triumph he seemed to have brought only made him more irate. He bit back the urge to curl his lip, suddenly and irrevocably feeling disgust sweep through him. It had no direction yet he was unable to shake it and ferocity made his blood burn. He swallowed thickly, needing to stop the noise he knew was attempting to escape his lips. He smothered it with another harsh swallow.

"Why…?"

"I just wanted to see if you would notice," the elderly Motou stated, almost appearing as if he might shrug as he studied his grandson. Yugi's lips were pursed and pulled into a thin, tight line. His eyes were narrowed minutely. His shoulders were raised partially. A small, low rough breath escaped him each exhale and his throat seemed to have a small tic as he stared back at him. His eyes were sharp and shrewd as they burned into his, an unidentifiable source of knowledge gleaming in them. For a moment he almost seemed to look through him and at him all at once as he had before. He almost expected to see only himself in his eyes again but he realized then that his grandson's eyes were focused upon him entirely. He was upset and he was watching him darkly.

"Really? You thought that I wouldn't notice?"

He blinked, eyes widening as the pride and satisfaction left him rapidly, hollowing out his stomach so that it was cold as it twisted nervously.

"Don't lie to me, Grandpa," Yugi snapped, shaking his head sharply as if in disgust. "You knew exactly what you were doing. You wanted to get a rise out of me—like you always do."

Maybe that was why the gap had existed between them. Maybe his constant manipulation of his senses and all the tests were why he could not deal with him often. Maybe it was what kept them so far apart and stopped Yugi's ability to understand him as he had always desired growing up. He didn't want to believe such a thing but he was unable to shake such an idea. He knew very well how easily he could do such a thing as far as his distaste and frustration went.

"If you had wanted to do that, you could have set it up. You didn't have to cheat so that you could see if I would say anything!"

"I wanted to try something new."

"No. You wanted to piss me off." He gripped the cards harder, fingernails leaving small crescents in the smooth material as he slowly drew them forward, never looking away. His grandfather was shaking his head, opening his mouth to object, but the small teen merely got up, flipping his cards over. "It's not like it would have made a difference anyways, Grandpa. I won."

It took him an hour to settle again in his room to read and lay on the bed lazily. His frustration and annoyance had driven him too far up the wall for him to consider sitting down or doing anything similar. He had wanted nothing more than to take a walk as he might have a week ago. Doing so would have been incredibly stupid in light of everything, however, and he was in no rush to tempt fate again.

He chewed his cheek uncomfortably, narrowing his eyes as he rested back against his pillow thoughtfully. How long had Ushio and Tomoya been fighting that night? He felt now, looking back on it, as if it had lasted hours or even a lifetime, but he knew it had to have been short and quick. It had to have been a minute at the least, ten at the most. He had no true concept of the time that had passed between the inflictions of pain.

How long had it taken for Ushio to finally kill and eventually mutilate Tomoya like that? Had it taken long or had it been quick? Without him posing as a distraction when Ushio turned his sights back on his prey, he imagined it would not have been too terribly long. How could it have been?

Yugi shook his head at himself. The guilt that passed through him with such a thought was acerbic. He swallowed and glanced almost blindly at the book in his hands. It was one of the many paranormal books he had gotten in order to have more of a conversation with Anzu. Of course, like with all the others, it was not anything more than a romance subgenre but it would be distracting enough. He did not want or see the point in allowing his thoughts to occupy his brain any longer. The time didn't matter. The devastation it had brought about afterwards did.

He read only about ten pages in and then awkwardly shifted the book away from him. Werewolf porn had not been what he had been expecting to find. His stomach twisted uncomfortably as he felt his cheeks heat with shock. Anzu was the one who had recommended it—because she loved it. Which meant that Anzu read erotica—paranormal, werewolf erotica. That was both hilarious and immensely horrifying.

It wasn't as if he had assumed she was innocent. Sometimes she made innuendos that could make even Jonouchi—whom she had named "the king of perverts"—blush bright red. Besides, he knew she had doujinshi in her room on her bookcase, hidden almost perfectly among her other manga. He—like every other guy he knew of—watched porn when the house was his. Jonouchi often handed him magazines and videos and some of them had made his entire face burn while others had made him crinkle his nose in avid disgust. Anzu obviously enjoyed seeing it in books, be it print or graphic novels. That was normal, nothing that made him even blink.

It was somehow utterly horrifying that it was a werewolf erotica she had been raving to him about for two weeks before all the mayhem had started. It was the werewolf part of the equation that got to him and he recognized it. He thought he might have been okay—or at least somehow felt mildly better if it were vampires or possibly even zombies. He laughed at the thought, somehow mortified. He would have felt better somehow if the main character had had sex with the two most popular forms of reanimated corpses. Yet, somehow the living and breathing werewolf was what disturbed him.

It wasn't as if it were the bestiality factor that he had once brought up while talking about them. Both of these characters were wolves, alphas that were forced into marriage to form a truce. It wasn't as if it was the plot line of how they had just met for the first time and had sex that threw him. It wasn't even the fact that he had apparently been inadequate in prepping her for the entire thing or the way she hurt throughout the entire act.

He wasn't able to fully isolate the thing that upset him so much. It was there, in the back of his mind, demanding his attention and yet hiding away all at once.

Yugi pushed the thought away after a moment and then put the book on the nightstand beside him. He didn't think he really needed to know. The book had, after all, done as he had been hoping it would. Being unable to connect with the character had made the words mere print and black and white enough that it made his eyes ache and itch. Those two sensations were always enough to make his lids feel weighted enough to edge him towards mental weariness.

He had already changed into clothes more suited for sleepwear sometime in the first hour of being in his room. His decision now was whether or not he wanted to bother with slipping under the covers. He had to wonder if the soft weight of them would be a comforting presence or if perhaps it might be smothering and unwanted as it had turned into various times in the last couple of years. Often he had wound up tangled in them and painting fearfully at the way they always cocooned him after a night of violent tossing and turning. But it was somehow reassuring too when he woke up peacefully on those more usual nights. It was almost like a security blanket, he supposed, and he wanted it even when he was given the opposite at times.

He didn't think he would have any night terrors again at the moment seeing as his initial dream about hunting and eating that serow seemed to have been the last…for a while at least. He drew the covers up, eyelids feeling too heavy to keep raised, and settled against the pillow comfortably. Yugi could already feel the darkness tugging at his senses, desperate to drag him deeper. He pressed his shoulder further into the mattress, pulling the covers up a small bit to rest more comfortably. The pillow was cool enough that his skin tingled with the touch of his new temperature.

He breathed in deeply twice, forcing his mind to become as clear as he saw potentially possible. Small, momentary drifts of incoherent ideas ticked through his skull. He thought momentarily of Anzu and then of the werewolf book, of Tomoya and Ushio and what this new wolf could possibly look like. Then the Beast of Gevaudan, so vicious and disgusting, a monster put in history books to be mocked or revered by the people of France.

He found his mind, making a small definitive clutch towards this thought, enough to pull him abruptly into awareness in the growing darkness. He didn't open his eyes but his mind was wide awake and demanded his attention be directed to this subject.

The wolf that had saved him—if he could consider its slaying of Ushio in such a light—had crushed its victim's head in with its teeth. And, if Yugi remembered right—his mind was struggling but moving full force and digging up forgotten information as quickly as possible—the Beast of Gevaudan had done the same. It had possessed an unusual strategy for hunting in that way. Most predators went for the throat or bloodletting to bring its prey down. This creature had crushed its victims' heads violently.

His eyes snapped open in the darkness and Yugi felt his head pound with cold uncertainty. The Beast of Gevaudan… If it had been a werewolf then was it possible that this wolf that had saved him—or simply killed Ushio for whatever reason—was the same creature? Surely no other animal was going to have that same kill pattern, right?

What was the lifespan for a werewolf anyways? Was it full immortality or only semi? He couldn't remember and he didn't trust his memories from his old obsession with them either. He had gotten a lot of things wrong back then and made up aspects to them so that they seemed cooler to anyone listening. He had probably said that they were fully immortal or that they were invincible during the full moon, the common tropes that came with mythology.

The small teen shook his head unhappily at the thought. He had been more of an expert on his own idea of what they were—what he wanted if he ever became one—rather than whatever mythology surrounded them. But that was not a big deal when it came down to it. If this wolf was truly the Beast of Gevaudan then it had to be an immortal lifespan, right?

He didn't want to see everyone around him pass on and leave him behind.

Yugi swallowed back a whimper. How could anyone want such a thing? It defied logic to want to leave friends and family behind and live in isolation so as not to be discovered and killed.

But then… Wolves were pack animals so did that mean werewolves were too? He blinked and then frowned as he tilted his head. Humans were pack animals as well. So, if the werewolf was able to turn between forms, didn't that mean the drive to be around others would be that much more intense? Didn't it make isolation something of a near impossibility? Or maybe the infection changed the genetic makeup so much that it reversed such a drive and made them loners instead.

Yugi blinked and groaned under his breath. Sleep was rapidly becoming something of a far off desire rather than a reality. Sleep almost seemed like a joke that Jonouchi had made up to see him get flustered and cranky.

That small thought brought on another concern.

What if something happened to make Jonouchi turn on him again? He had said he would help him if he needed it, that he was always there for him if he asked. But what if Yugi did something wrong or this new wolf decided to show itself? Would he be so willing to give him the support he had offered just that day or would he turn away from it?

The heat was creeping along his spine again. A pocket of blistering warmth made his skin ache for a single split second. His neck was growing cold and clammy, the hairs lying there seemingly incredibly weighted and heavy against his skin.

The shadows of the room were somehow comforting. The lack of streetlight, which had scared him before, was more something of a blessing. With this darkness his room seemed larger and somehow more accommodating. It was as if maybe it could somehow give way to answers and truths that hid away in sunlight.

His mind was sluggish as he continued wondering at such a sensation but it was beautiful enough that he would not question it fully. The odd, pale streak of moonlight that drifted through the window was comforting and yet cold all at once. The easy beams made his mind feel more sluggish but the heat blooming beneath his skin tampered with such a sensation. It was growing harsher, vibrant, demanding his attention and making him want to snarl. His spine tensed and ached. His stomach twisted. His mouth watered with saliva which thickened against his tongue, growing pasty.

His eyes itched and burned for a long moment. When he blinked they felt heavy and the movement was slow, his senses seeming to acknowledge it as a task that was far from as basic as it should have been. The darkness seemed to be pressing down on him suddenly and his blanket felt as if it were a live flame where it touched his skin.

A low, almost inaudible drifting noise seemed to be whistling within his ears. It rose and dipped gracefully like a dancer in a ballroom. Its lull was soothing and somehow gentle but he recognized it and his thoughts kept such a sensation from being fully realized.

This new wolf was howling again. But the noise was so distant that he almost feared it was all within his head and it somehow echoed inside of one of the many shadows of his mind. Did anyone else hear it? Did anyone else lie awake this night listening to the noise? And if they did, what was it that they heard? Was it anything like the shrewd power that Yugi thought he heard within the gentle song? Or did they simply hear something of a drifting wind hitting the window and rattling the glass to make them glance upon it?

His heart was beginning to beat faster, gradually speeding in time with the howl's crescendo.