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.

19. Hellhounds

Disclaimer: I do not own Yugioh

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

Chapter Warnings: Night Terrors About Experiments, Experiments, Blood, Hunting

Okay, so! Before you start, I will say that there is a VERY BIG reason that I only wrote the discussion between the scientists and sponsors of the experiments. Here's why: Their lab is a very big subplot. I'm also still doing a pretty big amount of research on the way of how to make it work. But, regardless of this, the information in the conversation IS very much real.

Atem WAS born in the circumstances of what they wrote in the log entries and the information passed in the conversation (black eyes, being hairless). There's a reason Atem was born hairless, by the way. And there's also a reason why his eyes stayed black throughout his time within the labs. It's a genetic problem, a deficiency that came from the experiments. With that in mind, he obviously no longer suffers from it. It's hinted at quite often in the work logs that he's got a LOT of issues. And he still does, but they're not as obvious or as clear cut as they were back then now that he's running free.

Also, the rabbit's having direct blind spots like that in their vision is true. I did enough research on that one to say with certainty. They can't see straight in front of them. Most prey animals can't. It's the predators that can, because they have to lock onto their prey to hunt them.

Now, if you're squeamish, stop reading after Yami spots the rabbit. Then skip to the next section. The dog is also mentioned, by the way.

Anon: Thank you! I'm glad to hear it~! I always tend to worry about that kind of thing haha

Chapter XIX: Hellhounds

Work Log Entry XIX: February, 1997

February 20

The pup has opened his eyes for the first time. He seems to be blind from malnutrition or perhaps the stressed from the entire process of his birth.

His eyes are the most unnatural things I have ever seen.

There is no color to them.

They are completely black.

He almost seems to have no irises.

The whites of his eyes are completely dark gray and the veins are the only things to mark them.

It is unnatural.

He is unnatural.

The water pushed down on him from all sides.

The more he struggled, the more his disorientation prospered.

Up, down, left, right—none of it made sense anymore.

He pushed with his arms and legs.

He could not find leverage.

He might have been pushing further down.

His lungs burned for more air.

He choked as his mouth opened.

Cold water filled his lungs.

Blood pounded in his ears.

The darkness swept up from either side.

He flailed.

Then his body burned.

His mouth opened.

The water fled his lungs.

A scream ripped through his throat.

He flailed and his legs rocked with a spasm.

His head pounded harder.

His heart leaped into his throat.

Claws glinted bright with reflected sunlight.

The ground tasted sour, bile torching his throat.

Blood welled from his throat.

The gurgling grew louder, the scream dying beneath it.

His body trembled, quaking.

He felt his skin pulse and twitch.

The muscles bunched and rippled along his bones.

The marrow burned and froze.

He gasped, then jerked violently.

The darkness expanded, then burst forward.

It faded away.

Soft white light, drizzled with strands of silver and faux gold, crept into his senses.

Small specks of dust drifted through the air.

He gasped, heart hammering, fingers trembling. He panted, his lungs quivering. His body ached. His skin pulled tight. He nearly groaned. Then he nearly wailed. For a moment he could not draw in enough breath. He panted harder. He flinched at the sensation of being covered. He jerked upright, breathing harder.

There were lines around him, perfectly straight. There were corners. There was a small splatter of dark, skeletal fingers. There was a splash of gold and white and silver. There were large blocks set about him. The spot beneath him was burning hot.

He blinked and the area became oriented around him. He breathed in so roughly that his ribs cracked. Then he turned his head. The dresser materialized, the nightstand, the skylight, the tilt of his windowed wall, the corners that looked so sharp and dignified. He grunted at the touch of the heated blankets. He swallowed thickly.

Then he turned his head.

The face that peered at him remained nameless for the briefest of seconds. He struggled for a grasp of reality towards the sight. And then it began to take shape. And then further form. And his mind began to remember. He let out a shaky breath, somewhere between laughter and gasping.

"Yami."

The wolf looked at him, unblinking. His eyes were dark, glittering like rubies drenched in blood. He watched him, expression sharp even in the darkness. They looked at each other. For a moment the other boy continued to stare. Then he slowly blinked. And finally he sat up and stared.

Yugi had the impulse to apologize for waking him. He opened his mouth, eyes wide, and then froze.

Yami did not look upset. Nor did he seem disgruntled. He was, rather, staring at him with a knowing look to his sharp eyes. And Yugi felt his blood chill with confusion. Had he seen inside his mind? Had he read into his dreams? He gulped, nearly choking, and then blinked stupidly.

The other wolf seemed not at all surprised by his erratic behavior. Instead he got to his feet, moving towards the doorway, and disappeared before Yugi could think to object.

The action brought an entirely new thought to his mind.

As he turned his head, watching him, he felt his breath crumble in his lungs.

Had Yami…somehow influenced his dreams?

Was it possible that he had brought him to that nightmare?

Was it Yami's nightmare instead of his?

But something occurred to him as well, seconds later. His stomach dropped and he stared at the empty door. He blinked, stupefied, and shifted to sit up further, breathing hard. No, he did not think that it had been Yami to cause this dream to come about.

Well—that was if he could even bear to call it a dream. It seemed more a night terror than anything else. It seemed like all the many things that had plagued him for years before, even with the burden of medication.

Yugi did not think that he could fathom calling it a simple dream in light of that thought—and the way that Yami had seemed to flee from his side as he had.

He shivered. It did not appear as if it could have been conjured by the red-eyed boy either. It seemed far more likely that he himself had brought it forth.

Because, now, as Yugi considered it, he realized that it was as if he had been injected with that concoction of wolfsbane and silver once more.

And he hoped to every god in existence that Yami had never experienced anything of that magnitude in his lifetime.

Yugi thought to ask—if only for a moment—but declined. He could not force the words from his throat. And he felt too weak to get up and follow Yami. He supposed he had gone about settling on the couch for the night after what had happened. But he could not be sure. And so, instead, he closed his eyes and lay back.

But sleep did not come and he refused to welcome it as he normally would.

It was around dawn that the other wolf returned to his room. He could hear, just as well as he could, the sound of his mother stirring from down the hallway. He could tell that she would wake and begin to make breakfast soon enough. She must have had early appointments at the clinic or she was planning to go to see if the animals needed any further assistance.

He was thankful that none of them had needed critical attention so far. The fact that no animals resided in the apartment below was a gift from the gods. He shivered at the thought of their reaction to both himself and Yami. Yugi thought for sure that they would go insane, horrified and stressed out, and probably bloody themselves in their attempts to escape their presence.

"Did you fall back asleep?" he muttered, voice purposefully low and eyes narrowed faintly as the other returned to the other side of the bed. Yugi blinked up at him, squinting because his eyes hurt, and the wolf frowned before tilting his head to the side. He hesitated for a moment, thinking to turn away, but smiled faintly at the taller boy, and the other weakly nodded in response. Yami did not raise his eyes as he took the spot next to him, laying down and facing him with an uncomfortable expression.

"Good, I'm glad." At least one of us did.

Yugi was somewhat envious, and there was a hint of bitterness that rested on his tongue at the taste of such a thought. It seemed impossible to him that he might consider Yami's movement to the couch as more than he could do himself. But he realized his body had been too heavy, laden with his horror, and he had been unable to do more than watch him go. But he still envied him.

Yami shook his head slightly at him, then closed his eyes tightly. Yugi thought for a moment that maybe he should say something, but fell silent. He hesitated for a minute or two longer, then rolled over to face the opposite wall. The bed shifted when the other boy did the same and they both settled uncomfortably to sleep again.

When he woke again, it was because his alarm had gone off. Yami was frozen beside him, sitting up with his body tensed once more. But he did not seem as horrified by the noise as he had first been. Now he was merely annoyed with it as Yugi leaned over to hit the button to turn it off.

The red-eyed wolf settled into the pillow again, yawning, and looked at him with a tilted head. Yugi gave him a small smile, so strained that he felt his face might break with the pain of it. "I'm going to make us some pancakes real fast, after I get ready. Then I'll get you another protein shake and a couple of pills and I'll head off to school and be back before you notice, okay?"

He winked at him but Yami frowned noticeably. He looked somehow undone by the suggestion but nodded at him faintly once more, as if he could not fathom what he was meant to say in response. But neither had even the slightest idea and so Yugi got to his feet and wandered for the bathroom before he could rethink his decision.

Yami watched him go, sitting up and frowning as he looked around slowly. The walls seemed increasingly small today, as if they had shifted forward to close in around him. He closed his eyes, feeling somehow smaller than ever, and his stomach burned with anxiety as he raised his palms to rub at his face. He was exhausted and his body still itched and tingled where he had allowed Yugi to tear the tracker from his skin. The muscle was still recovering, the nerve endings still forming again. It was a tiring, almost exhausting, process.

As he rubbed harder, spots appeared behind his lids. He curled his lips back, tired and weighted by the task, and bit back a snarl. The muscles pulled along his shoulder. The pain made his skin flare. He hissed with displeasure. But he did nothing more as he listened to the sound of the water turning on.

Perhaps a shower with hot water would ease some of the ache. Or perhaps if he alternated with the temperatures it would further alleviate it. He shook his head slightly, closing his eyes, and then tilted his head. As his hands fell into his lap again, Yami wondered for a moment.

The pancakes would not do to sate his hunger completely. Nor would it truly accelerate his healing. And the medication might not be something he would need today. Perhaps he should decline the offer to take them and instead go hunting.

His shoulder trembled faintly. He blinked his eyes open, turning his head. His gaze locked on it. The muscles were pulsing beneath his skin. The nerve endings were bursting with pain. And his bone was jumping. The tremor shook the limb. It popped up and down rapidly, in movements that almost made him shiver. But he did not follow its lead. Instead Yami stared at it, wondering if it might fade, and the tingling that jerked through it made him hiss in pain.

He turned away again after a moment, hoping against the gods that the tremors would fade before Yugi got back. He did not want him to worry any more than he already did. It was unhealthy for the other boy. He would grow stressed and Yami did not think himself worth such pain and anxiety.

When the smaller teen returned, he was dressed as he usually was. Yami had not seen him in much else but this outfit since school had begun again the day before. Given that it was only a day, however, it seemed strange to think such a thing. But he had rarely seen him in anything else aside from pajamas and the clothes he had brought him that night.

Now he stood in that familiar royal blue jacket, with the white dress shirt beneath that was buttoned all the way up, with the matching blue pants and worn-down white sneakers. There was the choker around his neck, like a thin, classic belt of black leather, with a large buckle that glimmered in the touch of sunlight from the window. He looked slightly dwarfed in this outfit, as if the legs were too long, because they bunched terribly at the ends and seemed to encompass the backs of his sneakers.

It was only as Yugi stepped forward and continued to rub at his hair with a towel that the drape of them moved to a more flattering slope of the heel that Yami realized they were not too long. The ends were meant to cover most of the sneakers and he realized it was most likely the purpose of the cut they harbored. He also supposed that they did the same with his black boots should he wear them with them.

Yugi had the impulse to snicker at him, say something like, "Like what you see?" but it made him feel sick for a moment. He felt as if he would be leering at Yami if he bothered to open his mouth. And the thought caused him to lower his eyes to the carpet even as his hair knotted with the force of his rubbing. The skin tingled and itched, burning faintly, along his scalp, and he swallowed hard.

Besides, who was he to think to say such a thing when he himself thought Yami's smirk made his face bright and gorgeous when it was lopsided? Who was he to say something like that when he was captivated by his eyes at times? Or the way he felt almost obsessed with the gentle swell of laughter that dipped beneath his coughing breath when he tried to chuckle?

So he threw the towel aside, glancing at him, and smiled as he murmured, "I'll have a plate of pancakes for you in a few minutes."

Yami nodded slightly, seemingly distracted in the action, but then turned away again. There was a moment where neither of them seemed to breathe, and then they settled somehow once more. With a weak, distracted glance around the room, the taller teen got to his feet and headed for the bathroom. And Yugi watched him for a moment before heading out the door, shutting it gently behind him.

He grabbed the mix, the metal bowl, and set up the pan to make the breakfast pastry with a small sense of anxiety creeping into his bones. Yami seemed so tired, nearly exhausted, as if he were far more bothered by the events of the night before than Yugi had noticed at first. Yugi realized, belatedly, as he looked at the pan and sprayed the surface of it, that he had been limping when he had gone to the bathroom. He had been limping when he had walked away that night.

He had to have been. Perhaps it had not been as present last night as it was a few minutes ago, but he knew it must have been there. He closed his eyes, frowning, and then shook his head and began to listen to the pan crackle faintly.

Yugi had finished the first plate of pancakes and was about to start the second when a noise reached his ears. A door was opening, a gentle creak and the sound of the knob twisting making him turn his head in confusion. He blinked, listening, and then paused, eyes widening slightly.

His grandpa was awake?

He nearly flinched. His eyes flickered to the microwave. He didn't have time to make a new batch of pancakes. And he couldn't exactly say no if his grandpa wanted some as well. The thought made his stomach clench. He himself was hungry. And Yami would have to be starving. He knew that.

And yet…

He glanced at the plate and then away.

"Yugi, my boy!"

He wanted to flinch at the greeting but flashed him a wide grin. "Morning, Grandpa!" he said with a forcefully light voice. Yugi smiled at him, forcing himself to turn around and face him for a moment, then quickly went back to his pastry.

"Are you making those all for yourself?"

Yugi had a moment where he almost wanted to snap that he was. Then he frowned, faltering, and shook his head as he looked over his shoulder and put on a blinding smile that he hoped reached his eyes. "Of course not. I thought I would make us breakfast, Grandpa."

It sounded disgustingly fake and terribly rehearsed, but his grandpa barely seemed to notice. Yugi thought it was more that the elder Motou was hungry than anything else, because he knew he wasn't that convincing. But he didn't comment and Sugoroku took a seat at the table with the plate that was ready next to him.

Yugi turned away immediately so that he would not see his frustrated expression. He was getting hungrier as the seconds passed. The smell of pancakes was making his mouth water. And the thought of syrup made him want to sit down with a pile of the breakfast pastry and drench them with the maple concoction.

But he wasn't the one who seemed to need more healing. Yami was limping and exhausted. He, on the other hand, seemed to have recovered rather well even despite the poison that he had apparently expelled the night before.

Yugi stilled slightly at the thought. Was Yami sure that it was wolfsbane and silver that they had injected him with? It seemed impossible that he could expel that and survive through the night. How could that possibly be what had been pushed through his veins? Sure, he had convulsed and felt as if he were fading away completely, but still it seemed so illogical to him.

Wolfsbane was so dangerous and it killed so easily…

And then, obviously, silver had been used for some other reason that he was sure was relatively the same. It was poisonous to a werewolf, wasn't it? It had to be. Because there would not have been a reason for its inclusion otherwise…

Yugi shook his head, sliding the last of his pancakes onto his own plate, and turned around for a moment. "I'm going to go eat in my room. I have a little bit of homework to finish up before I leave."

Sugoroku looked at him, visibly startled by the statement. He halted with the fork halfway to his mouth and furrowed his brows in surprise. "You normally finish your homework the night before," he commented with a frown.

Yugi wanted, for the smallest of moments, to snarl at him that he used to do a lot of things that he wasn't now. He didn't hang out with his friends as much, he couldn't help out in the clinic, he wasn't playing video games as often, and then, he barely wanted to spend time with anyone.

But, mostly, he had failed to forget that his grandpa had known that werewolves existed. And he had failed to forget the fact that he had forgotten to tell him long before. He had not forgotten that he tested him so often by way of scent.

And he especially had not forgotten that he had asked him if he could smell Valon when he had escaped his cage that day.

So, for that split second, he wanted nothing more than to lash out at him. But he silenced the impulse. There was no reason to do such a thing. Instead, frowning, he shook his head, and muttered, "I forgot about it last night. Anzu and I were texting and I guess it just slipped my mind."

His grandpa was watching him with a slightly uncertain look, almost as if he wanted to apologize, but the moment passed. He nodded at him, saying, "Have a good day at school, Yugi," as the boy headed back for his room. The small teen glanced over his shoulder but didn't bother with much more, opening the door and handing the plate over to Yami when he saw he had returned to the bed. Yami hesitated for a moment, then took it from the smaller teen, and he bit his lip as he watched him.

"I forgot about the protein shake," he admitted, grimacing and feeling sick to his stomach for a moment.

He should have made sure to make that before anything else. But his grandpa would have commented and he had nothing that he could think to say that would explain it. He had always hated protein powders. To say that he liked them now would have been foolish. But they would have helped Yami a lot more than just simple pancakes.

He fidgeting, biting his bottom lip hard for a moment. "I'm sorry."

Yami shook his head after a split second. "It's fine."

Yugi nearly faltered at the flat note in his voice. But then he remembered that Yami had been unable to speak last night as it was. His voice had died completely. His body was working on his former wound as well. It would have made sense that the split healing did nothing to give his tone much life. And Yami still looked so terribly exhausted and bone-weary as it was.

He shook his head slightly, frowning. His stomach twisted faintly. "It's really not. It would have helped you…" he muttered, looking at him as his teeth worked at his bottom lip.

Yami blinked at him, eyes stretching slightly wide, and then looked away again. He shook his head after another small pause, then poked at his pancakes for a moment. "It's fine," he repeated in that same, small, nearly inaudible voice, tone as dead as rotted wood. He shrugged after a moment and began to poke more insistently at his food. "It's fine."

Yugi was unsure whether he meant to reassure him or possibly himself. It seemed impossible to him that Yami could truly consider it to all be fine. The very idea seemed illogical to him.

But he forced the thought away. He would have to deal with it all later. When he got home he would hand him a protein shake and make sure to give him the medication to slow his metabolism. He would help him get better again.

"I need to get to school," Yugi announced, barely suppressing his impulse to grimace. "I'll see you when I get back, okay? Stay in here if Mom or Grandpa is home, okay?"

Yami nodded at him, not saying a word in response, and he turned to make his way out the door and down the stairs as quickly as possible. As he got to the bottom step and threw the door open, he nearly groaned.

He was so hungry.

But his hunger paled in comparison to Yami's. In the small square of his charge's room, he had begun to pace. The plate had been emptied in a matter of moments when Yugi had left the house and now Yami paced about swiftly from one wall to the next. His turns were as sharp at the corners next to him. His feet were rapid in their movements. His eyes began to dart about himself, his surroundings, flickering and dancing in their frustrations. He was so restless as to twitch every nerve ending.

His skin was pulsing. His body was aching. And a restless, burning confusion made him further infuriated. He wanted to crash forward, then to spin around again. His stomach convulsed and growled. Perhaps the protein shake would have helped. But it would not have sated him. Nor would his metabolism be stilled by those pills. Yami knew at that moment that nothing would have faltered any of it.

As he moved forward and picked paths across the room that made the carpet almost seem worn beneath his feet, he glanced at the window. Yugi would not fault him for doing such a thing, would he? He would not have asked him pause in his decision to hunt, would he? Yami doubted it, but still he hesitated. The hunger made his stomach toss and twist about painfully.

He groaned in the back of his throat and the noise curled up like a snarl. He shook his head slightly, then paced to the pane of glass. He flicked the locks, pulled the window open, and stepped onto the roof. As he crouched there, his balance smooth and perfected as only a wolf's could be, he pulled the window down almost all the way, and then moved about to jump from the slates.

The two-story fall was nothing that made him even slightly pause. Only a slight tingling met his ankles, moving in weak pulses upwards towards his knees. But the pain was absent beyond his shoulder. The jump would not have harmed a human further than aches in their bones and skin, though he was not sure that many realized such things. He glanced back behind him, thankful that Yugi's room was not directly in front or behind the house. It gave him a clearer image of which direction to go and where.

Yami glanced at the street, both sides, then took off for the trees. Thankfully no one seemed to be going about the area as it was. No one came forward on the roads or passed along the woods or sidewalks or anything of that nature. As he looked about the shade of the trees and paced about the long, draping shadows, not once did he look back.

Nor did he pause.

His stomach gurgled in protest to his slower movements. He nearly growled in the back of his throat with displeasure at the sensation. But he did not rush himself. If he wasted his energy at the moment, nothing would help him to regain it. So Yami moved as slowly as he could with his mounting impatience, and sniffed lightly at the air to catch even the smallest hint of a forest animal.

It took what felt like hours for a trail to come to his senses. It was light, almost flowery, with an earthy edge that made him shiver with delight. He licked his lips, glancing about himself, and crouched lower to the ground.

The rabbit would hear him before he would catch it. It might even feel his footsteps before he came forward if he walked too heavily. He would have to be careful, move slowly, and stay as low to the ground and light on his feet as he could. That was not a hard task, but his impatience might make it tedious at a moment like this. So he crouched there, eyes dark, gaze moving about each way, his nose still working to catch more of a trail of this breeze that had originally greeted him.

His stomach growled again but this time it seemed more tempered. It was as if the liberation of knowing that the rabbit was there made his hunger become mildly sated. It was a powerful sensation to come across, the promise of a meal to push away his mounting restlessness. It was somehow wondrous, yet so instinctive that it made Yami shiver with pleasure for the faintest of moments.

But he did not lose himself to it. As he looked about, he failed to consider more than the task of hunting as was necessary. And he needed to sate the hunger that made his stomach ache so brilliantly. It was frustrating to strain his ears and keep his head tilted towards the ground, eyes sharp and focusing every which way to catch sight of the small animal. It was annoying as well, to see that most of the animals had recognized how unnatural his presence was and so had taken to cover.

But the rabbit must have been far from one of its burrows, because it seemed to be the only thing that had failed to run for cover. The straw was scrunching together somewhere that he estimated had to be at least about a mile to his east. But the sponginess of it as it was pushed against the ground made his stomach gargle. The sound of the rabbit moving about was so light that he almost failed to recognize it.

It had to be a smaller one, he realized with a small sense of dissatisfaction. But it was easily pushed aside as he listened further. Food was food. He could not be picky. He only had such small amounts of opportunities to eat when it was not provided by Yugi. He shivered slightly at the idea. He was not used to depending on someone else for such necessities. The concept of relying so heavily on another person made him feel restless. It caused his body to tense and his stomach to toss. It seemed impossible to him that he would lean upon someone else as he was now.

Werewolves were meant to be self-reliant. They lived in packs at times, but the solitary wolf was not uncommon. It was not necessary beyond filling the desire for sociality. So the fact that he was relying on his beta made him feel almost sickly.

He shook his head, struggling to dispel the thought, but it seemed almost impossible to him. The roles had been reversed. The alpha was supposed to take care of their beta. The fact that Yami was the one being taken care of made him feel slightly sick. When a werewolf bit another, it was meant to form a pact between them, a small bond that helped them to guide the beta through the necessary steps until they were able to control the Change.

Yami had been prepared to do just that. He had followed Yugi to and from the festival. He had tried to help him through the Change then, even if he had been unable to. He had followed him home with the intention of helping him to get used to it all. The fact was, however, that he was the weaker one at the moment.

The thought was a little daunting to him. The red-eyed lycanthrope had never been in a position to be forced to rely on another person like this. And the concept of doing so made him nervous. It was almost shameful, the idea that their roles were so heavily reversed. But, if nothing else, he could still hunt. And he knew how to heal himself should things get worse.

It was troubling that the wolf had gone after Yugi like that. As he narrowed his eyes and searched hard for any movement, he could not shake the slight fear that came into his system. Three times he had seen Yugi nearly killed.

Disregarding the fact that he had killed the wrong wolf in the first attack, seeing him slumped against the wall, bleeding so profusely and barely managing to gurgle for breath, was still a black stain in the back of his mind. The two wolves in the woods, who had come for Yugi during his first Change—had the man called them something? Hadn't he said two names?—had nearly taken his head off when he had interfered in the fight. And then the wolf and the human—Bakura, that was the wolf, right? He strained his memory but the name did not come to him beyond that.

So he went with it. His memory was almost never wrong. Once or twice he had forgotten details, then recalled them with clarity that knocked him nearly from his feet, but he was almost never wrong. So he would think the wolf's name to be Bakura, because that was the only name he recalled. And the gray-haired man—had he not said it several times? During the fight, had he not told him to keep Yami in one place?

He shivered again, slightly unnerved. His head turned, musings forgotten. His stomach pulsed with hunger. He pushed himself up slightly. His legs were tensed, crouching halfway. He thought to move to brace himself with his right palm to the ground, but paused. The rabbit was only a few feet away.

Staying so still had somehow brought him a gift.

He tensed his shoulders, bunching the muscles there. He did not have to change to catch it. But he hesitated as it did the same. Its eyes had not fully taken him in yet. Rabbits were blind when their heads were turned towards something. Yami had learned that several times during hunting. They only had this single blind spot, directly in front of their face. And, should it tilt its head to the side, appearing to give a sidelong glance, it was staring straight at whatever had caught its focus. The nostrils and the large ears were what helped it compensate, however.

And they were far sighted. As far as he could tell, being only yards away from him, it could not fully tell what he was. He did not know if they saw in color, nor whether they could see in the dark well. But they were not nocturnal so he felt there was a reason for that. Regardless, crouched there and staring, the werewolf did not move forward yet. He needed it to see him. It would kick in his instinct to chase. And when that happened, it would be easier for him to hunt it. Wolves were built for endurance. Outrunning and outdistancing their prey until they were nearly worn down was one of their best abilities. So he waited, sniffing the air and swallowing harshly.

Then the rabbit came forward a step, scenting the air in twitches of its large nose. Yami braced himself, nearly growling in the back of his throat. He was starving and the sight of it made him want to forget his plan altogether. But if he ran too soon, the weariness that already gripped him would remain. He needed his wolf instincts to become triggered. The human was not made for endurance as far as running was involved, nor did they travel very quickly. It was walking that provided them stamina.

And the rabbit would be long gone before he could catch it if he went after it as he was.

So he waited.

A second passed. And then, finally, the rabbit's head turned. The wide eyes, brown with dilated pupils, focused on him. Or, at least, one of them did. And the ears quivered. The muscles in its body bunched together. Then, it breathed in roughly, turned and bolted.

Yami took off after it. There was an abundance of energy that came to him. It swept over each muscle in his body. It warmed the marrow in his bones. It made him shiver. But it also pushed on his senses to run faster. It was mere seconds before he overtook it.

He pounced. He hit it, rolled a step. Then he sat up. The brown and gray rabbit struggled. He gripped the short hairs in between his fingers. He blinked lazily. He smirked lopsidedly. The rabbit kicked and squirmed harder. He growled softly. As a human, the thought of killing it made his stomach toss. But there was a more primal instinct to overpower it. Still, he did not rip into it. Rather, he shifted his grip. Its struggles intensified. He moved his palm along its cheek. Then he grasped the base of its shoulder. With a jerk of his wrist, the neck snapped.

The body fell limp. He crossed his legs, settling more comfortably. The growing sunlight made his skin tingle faintly. He licked his lips, looking the rabbit over for a moment longer. This small meal would not do much more than sate him for a few minutes. So he realized, with a small sense of frustration, that he would have to move further. He would have to find more prey. And he would have to make it back to the house sooner than he had before.

He didn't want to worry Yugi beyond what was necessary, after all.

---

Yugi was grateful that his friends had not asked him to stick with them when they went to the arcade. He had purposefully spun a little tale that he needed to help his mom with a surgery again. It was so common that none of them had bothered to question it, as he knew they wouldn't.

But it still somehow upset him that he had to lie to them. He felt almost as if he should have been used to it. After all the times he had said such stupid things to conceal Yami, how was it that he still felt guilty?

Yugi shook his head as he opened the door. "Hi, Grandpa," he called over his shoulder, glancing back to make sure he was not coming out of the living room yet. He knew his grandpa had been nearby, watching the television, but he hadn't initially thought to consider he might get up yet. So he glanced back, relieved that he hadn't, and drew in a deep breath of relief. He blinked, then turned back and froze in surprise.

Yami was halfway through the window. He wasn't looking at him but rather at the carpet. And when he straightened again, Yugi could make the faintest hint of dirt on his shirt. His fingernails were black with soil and dark brown with dried blood. When he closed the window, he left a small bit of dirt on it. But the blood had been pasted to his fingers for so long that it did not streak.

Yugi shivered slightly. The attention made his red eyes flicker to his. When they locked, the smaller teen felt almost winded. The other boy looked more predatory than he had seen in a while. Standing taller, with a sharper gleam to his eyes, Yami looked larger, stronger. It seemed almost impossible that he had been the same one to come with bleeding wrists and sleeping on his couch because of the medication kicking in so soon. And it seemed impossible to put together the idea that Yami was the same one who he shared his bed with at night.

But the demeanor was the same. Despite the aura of power he exuded, he did not change his attitude. But there was still a dark glimmer to his gaze. And there was something in it that made Yugi feel a little cold. It seemed almost like a warning. Or it could have been something more.

"Did you just…get back…?"

Yugi cringed at his own question. Of course he had. He had just snuck in through the window, after all. He nearly groaned under his breath at his stupidity. But Yami did not so much as blink. The wolf watched him for a moment, as if waiting for him to say something more, and then turned away.

"Yes."

Yugi nearly leaped forth with satisfaction upon hearing his voice. It was almost intoxicating to hear it after so long away from him. He blinked wide eyes, his nerves tingling with happiness, and bit his lip to keep from reacting stupidly. Instead, his lips twitching and threatening to break into a grin, he tucked his hands into his uniform jacket's pockets and pulled them forward. He tilted his head, looking at him happily, and felt the straps of his backpack push on his shoulders slightly.

"Did it…go well?"

Yami blinked in surprise at the question, turning his head. It was with a slightly bewildered expression that he studied him for a moment. Then he smiled and nodded, though his eyes seemed slightly distracted. "Yes."

Yugi nodded and reached up to pull his bag off but faltered. His jacket didn't reach that high. He nearly groaned at himself. And Yami smirked at him in amusement at his forgetfulness. He tossed the bag aside, then stiffened as a new thought occurred to him. He spun around, looking towards the kitchen, listening for movement. But his grandpa had not bothered to get up yet.

He sighed in relief, then turned and closed the door. He thought to flip the lock but stopped short. There wasn't any need. His mother and grandfather both knew how to knock. They had drilled it into his head, after all, and they followed that same rule.

So he simply turned away and grinned. "Good."

Yami blinked again. He nodded after a moment. Then he hesitated. Yugi could see him looking from the bed to the bathroom. For a moment he had the impulse to say that he needed to clean his hands. But he realized that the thought had occurred to him already. It was why he had stopped so suddenly. The red eyes flickered towards his. Then he turned and trotted towards the bathroom.

For the smallest of seconds Yugi wanted to ask him some more about how it had gone. Maybe he would ask what he had eaten. But then he shivered. He didn't think he could take the idea of asking that question. The thought of someone actually eating something raw like that made him grimace. It just seemed utterly disgusting to him. But Yami obviously did not mind it. He would eat anything and everything he could get his teeth in.

He had eaten that dog, after all.

Yugi shuddered and his mind recoiled at the thought. It was disgusting to remember that. How had he even thought to let him have the canine again?

The thought made him flinch.

Because Yami had been starving.

He had let him have the dog's body because he had known Yami was starving.

Yugi shook his head slightly. There was no faulting him for being hungry. And there was no true laying blame on him for his inability to find something else. If all animals reacted the way the ones he had been helping in the clinic had, then he was not surprised that Yami might have settled for something easier. Teeth tearing fur and causing wounds was easier than a deer thrusting its antlers or a hoof possibly breaking a bone with impact.

So he tossed the thought aside. Then he faltered as Yami came out of the bathroom again. He blinked at his companion, lowering his eyes. Where they fell was his almond-shaped nails, the beds of them that same vibrant dark red color. The tips were bright white, almost stunning in shade, and he wondered again if his might ever become that color as well. The thought made his eyes shoot down to his own fingers. So far the nails were still pink, a pale color that border on something almost peachy like his own complexion.

But that didn't mean that they wouldn't change, did it? Because, as he looked towards his thumbnails, he could swear the cuticles had shifted. They had stretched, dragged themselves upwards. He frowned in puzzlement, then looked up at the other boy.

"Are my nails going to look like that eventually too?"

Yami looked at his and then Yugi's. A wry expression crossed his face for a moment. Then he smirked lopsidedly and the sight of it made the smaller boy pause. "They will," he replied, watching the other with something slightly satisfied. "When you have gone through the Change enough times, it will alter their color and shape further."

Yugi blinked wide eyes. "Why?"

The wolf paused and then looked down at his nails. "The nail bed grows thicker and the blood vessels move a little closer to the surface. It helps with healing. And it makes it harder for them to chip or break later." He glanced at him. "Human nails break easily."

Yugi nodded, fighting away a wider grin. Was this the most he had gotten him to speak? His voice wasn't cracking as terribly. And it was almost smooth, though its tone wavered drastically. He wanted to laugh, so satisfied that it made his stomach quiver for the briefest of seconds.

Yugi wondered if he could feel his excitement. Was it easier for Yugi since he seemed more wolf than human half the time as it was? Was it like having a second skin of some kind? Did he ever wonder about those emotions that came from him? Yugi wondered if he could better identify them than he himself could at times.

"So…what about the thumbnails? Why do they look like crescent moons?"

"Why?" Yami blinked, looking at his nail for a moment, and then frowned faintly. "It makes it easier for the transition of them becoming a dewclaw. The cuticle being so far upwards helps hold them together and shift the claws more easily to the side."

Yugi blinked at the thought, puzzling it over, and then nodded slightly. From what he recalled, the dewclaw was attached by both bone and tendon. It would shift only slightly, but it would still have to move and rotate as the human thumb was sideways and the canine's dewclaw was forward facing like the rest of the toes.

"But doesn't it make it more obvious that we're werewolves?"

Yami tipped his head to the side and frowned at him. "Every species comes with a warning signal as a predator." He paused, tilting his head. "The wolf comes with a larger body and sharper teeth. The fox has a bright red coat and narrow snout. The tiger has stripes and a long tail. The bear has long claws and huge paws. The bird has talons and wings. What it comes down to it is how quickly they learn to adapt. The wolves avoid the humans and adapt to their surroundings. The fox is smaller so it hides easily and stays low to the ground. The tiger uses the shade for camouflage and kills when threatened. The bear charges its enemies. The bird flies or attacks with its beak."

Yugi blinked in surprise at the thought. Yami was right. Each of them was recognizable. Anyone who saw a canine knew it was a dog. Anyone who saw a bright red pelt thought it was a fox. Anyone who saw stripes and orange fur knew a tiger. A bear could be identified by its enormous weight and long claws. And the only animal that had wings to fly and talons for hunting was the bird.

In retrospect, darker nails and curved cuticles seemed to be the most minor adaptation he had ever seen given to a predator. And, now that he thought of it, humans rarely looked at each other's nails unless they were blatantly on display. And then someone might think it was more nail polish than anything. And he remembered something about cuticle remover being something that he could use.

It seemed simple enough to him. If he really thought there was a need to hide it at some point, he could say it was nail polish and use cuticle remover to fix his thumbnails.

Yugi ran a hand through his hair. "Makes sense," he muttered, then paused with wide eyes. "Do hellhounds have red nails too?"

Yami nodded. "Yes. Every werewolf does."

He bit his lip. "So, how do you know the difference between them when you see them?" he asked slowly, frowning and tilting his head. "I mean, there has to be a difference, right? There are two different subspecies, after all, right?"

The red-eyed teen nodded again, turning his head to look at him. "Yes, there is a difference," he muttered, then paused after a long moment. "Hellhounds have three colors to their eyes and never anything else—red, gold, or aqua green. They also…well, their auras are different. It feels a little more alarming when they are around than when another lycanthrope is."

"What was Bakura?"

Yami blinked at him, startled by the use of the wolf's name, and then frowned noticeably. "He was a lycanthrope. Hellhounds are all solid color." He hesitated. "And his eyes were brown."

Yugi could tell his voice was going to die any moment. It was cracking profusely. It was faltering around the edges. It had failed at the last word. And he looked uncomfortably tired as well now. Yugi thought for the smallest of seconds to offer to grab him a cup of water.

But then he saw how unnerved Yami truly seemed. His eyes had glazed and his expression more closed off. He looked as if he might turn away any moment. And he seemed as if he might fall silent should he ask anything else.

So instead he smiled at him. "Well, I guess you ate already. So I think I'm going to go make a sandwich. Are you still hungry?"

Yami blinked at him, startled, and then shook his head.

"Do you want any medicine? Do you want some help falling asleep?"

He shook his head again. But this time Yugi could see the thinnest curve of a smile on his lips.

He nearly grinned as he turned around to head to the kitchen again.

---

"There is another Pure-Blood."

There was a long pause, then an eruption of noise. Laughter fluttered out, harsh and dangerous, and previous objections fell away in the stale air.

"Another Pure-Blood? That is impossible. You know as well as I that their bite only makes a Full-Blood wolf."

"Bakura's head was taken off by a wolf that should have been long dead from mere exposure to the serum. I never drew his blood to slow it down or give him an antidote."

"Perhaps you simply got the two wolves confused."

"I've been tracking a wolf that you described—exotic eyes and spiky hair."

"And the second wolf that appeared?"

"I do not know. I only saw him after he had changed."

"What did he look like?"

"He was black—and bigger than Bakura. He was inches bigger than the other one…"

"Than the other wolf…whom you had been tracking?"

"Yes. He was bigger than him."

There was a long moment of silence.

"A beta? Full-Bloods are just as hard to kill as the others."

"Which one is the original Pure-Blood, however?"

"No one took note of what the original looked like."

"He was hairless when he was born. Do you all not recall? He was too small and he was hairless! We all thought he would die!"

"And yet he was the only one to survive."

"Does anyone know what color his eyes were? Does no one have notes of it?"

"His eyes were black, remember? The tests and the sickness rendered his eyes black."

"And now that he is outside of this facility?"

"The boy's eyes were dark blue. And the other's were an orange color."

There was another pause, this one much shorter than the other.

"His mother's eyes were violet, remember? And the father's were brown. They were a hideous dark brown, like mud. The testing turned them dark gray. And so I would think that bright orange might be the color we are looking for."

"But if the other's were dark blue, wouldn't that make just as much sense?"

Noise burst forth, protests and laughter mixing in. A signal was giving, a sharp and clear cut sound like an angry snarl. Silence fell over the area once more.

"Either wolf could be ours. Code Name Atem could have adapted easily. And perhaps the tests changed his eyes further. Were their coats solid colors?"

"Yes, from what I could tell…but I was not close. And Bakura blocked the sight of him more often than not. They were fighting too often for me to take note—"

"But you failed to look at the one you had poisoned?"

"He was incapacitated. It seemed more logical to see about the other. He was larger as well—and aren't the Pure-Bloods supposed to be larger than regular werewolves?"

"Do not get snide with me, Pegasus. It is not by any fault of mine that you have failed your task." There was a long pause. "Of course, it could be possible that Code Name Atem has found a way to transfer the entirety of his own disease into another. Perhaps this newcomer—this possible beta—has the gift of immortality as he does."

"That's impossible!" a lower, angrier voice snarled. "There is no way that the werewolf could do such a thing! It goes against everything we have ever learned of them! When a Pure-Blood bites a human, a Full-Blood is born, from there it goes to the Half-Blood and eventually the Quarter-Blood. You are asking us to believe that a creature we created turned and created a replica of himself? He is not naturally born! I doubt that he even has the ability to infect another human! He should be as unable as the common hellhound."

Someone snickered softly, and the air within the room seemed to become suffocating. For a long moment there were glares at each other, vicious and angry, but it began to slowly but surely drift away. The tension eased, if only slightly, though everyone remained still and frozen within their seats.

"Perhaps he is able, by some divine gift." It came out sarcastic but somehow full of wonder all the same. "Or, rather, perhaps his beta is simply a Full-Blood. Perhaps there was not enough wolfsbane or silver within the vial to truly kill him."

Pegasus let out a hiss of dissatisfaction. "You gave me the amount." He was baring his teeth, talking through them. "You told me exactly how to do it. I followed the exact instructions. I did not even mix them until minutes before Bakura and I cornered him in the woods!"

"I would suggest you reign in your anger."

He trembled, not with fear, but with rage. He shook his head sharply, but lowered his eye in frustration.

"So what do we do now? If there are two wolves that could possibly be Code Name Atem, what is it that we should do?" a new voice demanded. "Two Pure-Bloods running around Hokkaido Japan is dangerous, is it not? Should we triple our efforts, try harder to take him back?"

The head of the table stayed silent for a long moment. No one spoke, staring at him in contemplation instead. For what seemed like hours they remained in this unnerving quiet. No one seemed even to blink for several minutes.

"If he is creating a pack, then let us allow him to gather his numbers. I do not know if you all share my joy of this announcement, but the idea that he could create more might mean better results for each of us. Is that not what we made him for in the first place? For results?"

Another moment passed, though this one much smaller.

"I suppose it cannot hurt to let him infect others." They paused again, then cleared their throat. "But, what if he cannot infect any others? What if it was some kind of mistake that he turned this human? Or, perhaps…what if the only reason he did this, was because of loneliness? Surely even the Pure-Blood must long for a mate, yes?"

"They are both boys!" Pegasus snapped, scowling at this new speaker. "Why should he waste his time with another male?"

"You forget that gender does not bind the werewolf," the head of the table chuckled in amusement. "Werewolves desire who they wish and will mate with the person they feel they have the most connection with. They are much more powerfully drawn to their mates than humans are their partners. And they fail to take reproduction into consideration. It is not necessary for them, as you well know. They can come in litters, not in ones or twos as humans do."

There was a brief silence, then he burst into laughter.

"And, if you wish to think it unnatural, remember what he is. He is something that I created. He is the long-awaited answer of an experiment that has gone on for years. He is the single success after what feels like centuries of failure."

The silence grew deeper, thicker, and each of them swapped looks for a brief moment.

"His desire to have a male human as his partner should not come as a surprise. Each of you forget at this moment that his genetic makeup could have changed to such a point as to disregard gender altogether. And we do not know that he would ever be able to breed, so a female is unnecessary as it is."

---

The impact left him winded. He staggered back a step, nearly gasping for breath. He shook his head sharply. Then his eyes snapped upwards. And his mouth opened and closed as his gaze grew thrice its regular size. Yugi blinked stupidly, horrified, and nearly backed away again. His breathing grew tighter, his heart racing. His stomach tossed. His fingers twitched. He grasped at his jacket sleeve in order to steady himself.

Sozoji stood at what he remembered Ushio to. He was a mammoth, several feet taller than himself. And his eyes were sharp, beady, dark brown and gleaming dangerously. His shoulders were broad enough to nearly encompass Yugi's and add three inches on either side. His jaw was sharp, chiseled, and his hair was almost like Honda's, in the formation of a large spike though his went several inches past his forehead. His sideburns were angled to follow the line of his jaw, positioned a few inches above the bone. He was one of the least friendly, most aggressive students that walked Domino High halls.

So the fact that they had run into each other did nothing to calm him. Yugi felt as if his eyes might pop out of his head. And the fact that he was a lycanthrope did nothing to help him. It was horrifying to see him there. And he had to crane his head back to fully take him in. The height difference was so immense. And he wanted to puke as he gaped at him.

Honda and Jonouchi made small, strangled noises in the back of their throats. He knew that after the incident with Ushio neither of them wanted to have to face off with him as well. It was stunning, horrifying even, and each of them stared stupidly at the massive student. But he realized, anxiety making his stomach drop further, that something was off.

As his eyes bore into his skin, frozen in place, Yugi could do nothing more than open and close his mouth again. But the panic was drifting. And a sense of bewildering confusion swept through him. He blinked stupidly.

Sozoji would not raise his eyes to look at him. He was staring fixatedly at the tiled floor beneath their feet. He refused to raise his gaze. And he had angled his body slightly away from Yugi. His shoulders were hunched. He had his back curved partially. His feet were moved to face another direction. And he looked…meek.

Yugi blinked again, stupefied. Then his head snapped towards the other three beside him. Jonouchi and Honda had not noticed his change of posture, but Anzu had. There was a clear and uncomfortable fear in her eyes. But there was also bewilderment and a child's wonder as she looked between the two of them. It seemed impossible to see this hulking figure in front of them looking so submissive before the smallest kid in their school. The sight of it made her blink and do several different takes, her mouth nearly falling open with shock.

But the moment passed. Yugi found himself looking away from her. And then he stepped back again. And Sozoji took it as a sign to walk past him. He gave him a wide breadth of space. Several inches of dead air existed between them. The smaller teen blinked, turning his head, and stared stupidly after him. It seemed unnatural to him to see all of this. It seemed…impossible and surreal.

He shivered. But Sozoji never looked back.

He closed his eyes tightly for a moment. What had that been about? He shivered again. Was it possible? Was it his lycanthropy that allowed this to happen? Was it his disease that had forced Sozoji to become submissive? It seemed so strange, so surreal. And he couldn't fully understand it all as he blinked stupidly. But he could not stop himself. So he remained silent and continued to stare.

"That was…one of the strangest things I have ever seen."

Yugi blinked and turned his head. "That was…awkward," he admitted weakly, trying to smile at the tall blond. He wanted, for the smallest of seconds, to lean over and puke on the floor. But he held it back, watching him and smiling weakly. "But…at least it didn't turn into a massive fight, right? At least it wasn't like when…Ushio and Sozoji used to bump into each other…"

Jonouchi blinked, brown eyes growing startled, and then cringed. "You mean, the weekly bloodbath?" he muttered, then wrinkled his nose before awkwardly glancing at the other two of their group. "I can't say I miss that, honestly."

Yugi lowered his eyes, almost for a moment wondering if there might be pee there. But the tiles were spotless, as if Sozoji had never been there. And so he glanced over his shoulder again. The mammoth of a student was long gone. He breathed out a sigh of relief, then turned back with what he hoped was one of his signature, bright-eyed smiles. "Let's go to lunch, okay?"

All three of them hesitated, staring at Yugi as if they did not recognize him for a moment, and then nodded in unison. They swapped small glances, seemingly unsure of themselves, and Yugi almost cringed. There had been the Burger World employee snapping at them in the restaurant, then the wolf in the alleyway who had fled, his lie about his grandpa being sick, and now there was Sozoji on top of it all. The thought that they too were keeping tabs on all of the weird things going on around them scared him.

If they were, surely they recognized how terribly out of place it all was. And the only connection between each event was him. He shivered, nearly disgusted with himself, but turned away again quickly. Yugi followed as they began to awkwardly make their way towards the quad to eat lunch. He had the impulse to duck his head, to hide away in the boys' bathroom, and not bother to come out again. But he remained several small steps behind them, unsure of himself and feeling sick to his stomach.

Jonouchi already thought it was suspicious that Ushio had wound up dead on his doorstep without explanation. The fact that he had kept quiet about that for so long made him nervous. When did he turn around and snap at him angrily over what had happened, bring it to the surface again and snarl in frustration? Because he knew, if things kept up the way they were, one of them would question it. And what would he say then? He had no true answers…

And then…

Yugi's head snapped up and his eyes widened drastically. Oh, dear gods, what had happened with that? Did Yami know about Ushio's body being dumped there? It seemed suddenly, after his admission that he had killed Tomoya and bitten him, that perhaps he did. Was it possible that it had been him to kill and place him there?

The thought was horrifying. And so disturbing that he nearly puked.

Why would he have done that? He had assumed it had been someone involved in the attack at the alleyway, but with Ushio and Tomoya dead, he had not known what to do or say about it all. So what would he do if it was proven that he had? What if Yami admitted it at some point?

Yugi didn't know if he could bear to look at him if he had. And then what? He was his alpha, wasn't he? And he was willing to answer his questions. He was willing to tell him things that he asked him about.

What would he do then?

Yami was helping him at the moment. He was helping to teach him what he needed to know. Could he really turn his back on something like that?

He shivered. He didn't know if knowledge was worth allowing a killer to remain in his house like that…

But Yami had never threatened him. And he had backed down when he had told him not to worry about his mom or grandpa. Didn't that qualify for something?

Maybe it counted for something, but he doubted it justified keeping quiet about a murder…

He opened and closed his mouth, staring ahead of him at the grass and the small sakura tree that they always trimmed during winter. But he could not fathom turning Yami away—not truly—and the guilt made his stomach flare painfully. He opened and closed his mouth. Then he turned away and stared blankly back at the door they had just walked through. He was happy that he had foregone lunch that day, because he was sure he would have dropped it by now, that train of thought so horrifying as to throw him off completely.

"Yugi?"

He flinched at the concern in her voice. His head snapped towards her. Her blue eyes, so bright and beautiful, bore into his painfully. He wanted, for the smallest of moments, to puke once more. And then his stomach quelled in its angry tosses.

"Sorry, I was just thinking about something…" Yugi hesitated for a moment, then looked at the other two who were staring at him just as blankly. They stared at each other for a moment, the three of them more concerned than he was himself. They were worried he looked sick, but if they had known his thoughts they would have never once considered asking. "I got caught up in my head again, I guess."

Yugi flashed them his best smile, as forced as it was, but could not do any better. And, for the second time, he wanted to duck and hide in the bathroom. But he blinked at them, forced himself to smile wider, and then turned away slightly.

He had the sudden impulse to turn and pull his phone out of his pocket. He wanted to call his house for a moment, to speak to Yami, to possibly see if perhaps he might get his answer right then. But he could not fully fathom the other werewolf answering the phone, however. And his plan failed his mind completely.

Yugi turned to glance over his shoulder again. How many others would react like Sozoji had? Was it a natural instinct in people? Or was it…?

He faltered.

Was Sozoji a werewolf too? Was he a lycanthrope? His brown eyes weren't golden or green or red like Yami had claimed hellhounds always had. So was it possible that he was a lycanthrope too? Was that what had caused him to react in such a way? Perhaps he had been too afraid to look into his eyes because of it.

Maybe it was a werewolf thing too? Was that possible?

Yugi faltered. No, because he and Ushio had faced off several times. And he could not help but think that it was more territorial than it was human disgust towards each other. The very idea that it was not human seemed almost a relief. And yet it horrified him all the same. Had they been werewolves for that long? The fact that they had fought for three years in middle school and continued it until Ushio's death made it a terrifying idea.

"Dude, Yug, are you okay?"

A hand touched his forehead and he nearly flinched. His eyes flickered to the golden-brown orbs that gazed back at him and he wanted to recoil. Jonouchi was visibly concerned, his brows furrowed and his mouth set in a frown, but there was also that glimmer of suspicion there. It made his eyes seem a little darker than usual. The thought made Yugi suppress a nervous shiver.

"Y-yeah," he muttered, though now he did not bother to smile. "I just…got distracted again. Let's go sit down."

It was somehow distressing to look at them altogether. And the idea to sit down with them seemed somehow daunting. But he forced his fear away, shaking his head, and led the way towards their usual seating arrangement. It was somewhat disgusting that the quad was open again after a month's worth of investigation into Miho's murder, but it did nothing to make him pause.

And the others barely seemed to consider it either. All four of them took a seat, Yugi against the wall, Anzu across from him, Honda and Jonouchi to either side of him. They always sat in this little formation, though it rotated depending on who took the seat against the wall. Jonouchi claimed it was the best and always tried to take it before anyone else could. The fact that he didn't argue now was a testament that he was still considerably unnerved by it all.

---

"A bizarre string of incidents has been occurring in the Domino City Memorial Cemetery," a woman's voice announced as Yugi closed the hallway door behind him and reached up to run a hand through his hair. He was exhausted after all of the crap that had happened at school, the way it had weighed so heavily on his tired mind. But the statement still made his head turn and his eyes widen with confusion. "For the last couple of days, graves have been dug up and bodies half-eaten. Remains have been scattered about among the headstones and people claim that a large black canine-like creature has been seen each time. No one has gathered an exact description of this animal, only that it appears to have been there each time."

Yugi faltered, head turning, and wandered towards the living room. He could not fully see the screen as he stopped behind the fridge, not wanting to draw anyone's attention, but felt sick to his stomach.

"Witnesses say that it seems to disappear right before their eyes, almost as if it was never there. But biologists do claim that the work seems rather dog-like. They say that the coffins must not have been secure enough to keep the hungry animals out, but cannot explain why no one seems to know where they go. There are no visible tracks beyond the clawed up graves and there are no leads as to what kind of dog it might be to cause these events."

Yugi frowned, turning his head to look over his shoulder.

"Some of the bodies have their organs eaten away while others only have limbs missing. None of the biologists have any answers about this phenomenon."

He shook his head, then turned and made his way towards the door. He shrugged the words out of his mind, shivering, and turned the knob on his bedroom door. He blinked, looking around himself, eyes peering into the darkened room, and then paused. For a moment he could not tell where Yami was, but the red-eyed wolf saved him the task of finding him. The bathroom door opened and he wandered out a step, looking at him in obvious confusion.

"I thought you would be out longer."

His voice was so scratchy and hoarse that Yugi nearly flinched. But then he shook his head as he considered his words, and wandered forward a step towards the bed. He was almost exhausted as he took a seat on the mattress and looked at him more clearly.

"Can I ask you something?"

Yami blinked at him but nodded nonetheless.

"I…" Yugi halted for a moment, unsure of what more to say, and then tilted his head to the side as he looked at him slowly. "Do werewolves dig up corpses?"

The red-eyed teen blinked, tipping his head to the side as well, and then reached a hand up to run his fingers through his hair. For a moment he was quiet, then he slowly narrowed his eyes and forced his voice out in a weak timbre. "Hellhounds do, occasionally."

He frowned at him, shaking his head as he sat up a little further. "I read that regular lycanthropes did it too."

Yami shook his head. "Hellhounds eat corpses. Lycanthropes do not."

"Then why do people say they do?"

"Do any humans know that hellhounds are werewolves?"

Yugi halted, opening and closing his mouth, and then reached up to scratch lightly at his wrist. "I…I don't know," he admitted after a moment. But he doubted it. The idea that someone knew that there were two subspecies of werewolves seemed unlikely. He had never seen it in any of the books he had read. And he had not known any sites to say that either. There seemed to be no one to know that they existed side by side like this.

Yami snorted at him, smirking faintly, and then crossed his arms with a pointedly smug look. Yugi smirked in response, laughing softly, and shook his head as the other boy glanced over his shoulder briefly. "Hellhounds dig up fresher corpses because they need a chemical in them. It gives them a bodily reaction that allows them to become incorporeal at will." He hesitated, then cleared his throat again and shook his head slightly. "Why are you asking me about this?"

Yugi kicked his legs uncomfortably. "I was about to come in here and heard the news report that something was digging up corpses and the biologists think it is canine-like." He paused, swallowing. "But they also say that witnesses have seen a massive dog-like creature there and that when they look again the animal is gone."

"Yes, so then that would be a hellhound."

Yugi nodded awkwardly, swallowing hard again. "That's…disturbing."

Yami turned away from him, starting towards the other side of the bed to sit down and look at the window for a moment. When he felt the smaller teen still staring at him, he tilted his head and shot him a sideways look.

"Lycanthropes need fresh blood—of any kind—to trigger the Change sometimes. Or they can have a near-death experience that will trigger it. Sometimes, depending on how much they know about their lineage and how well they keep up with their health, puberty can cause it to come about as well." Yami paused, thinking for a long moment, and then frowned curiously. "Otherwise the wolf does not interfere but for the influence of intelligence and sometimes athletic ability. But beyond that they remain dormant. Hellhounds just need the coldest day during winter at some point during which they have hit puberty. Then they'll change and, if they know enough about becoming incorporeal, they will dig up corpses."

"What is the chemical that they need?"

"I don't…know the name of it." He paused, opening and closing his mouth once, and then shrugged slowly. "I only know that it comes from the preservatives and things that are put in human food. It's an unnatural thing that only comes because of the food that humans eat. That's why lycanthropes rarely eat human food and hellhounds will sometimes turn their noses up at it too."

Yugi blinked, frowning, and then shook his head slowly. "You sound…a little upset talking about this right now," he commented, frown deepening as Yami grew rigid and his eyes became wider in surprise at the statement. He sat up a little at the way the taller werewolf failed to speak for a moment, worried as he looked at him uncomfortably. "I'm sorry—I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I was just…"

The other boy shook his head uncomfortably, unnerved and frustrated. He opened and then closed his mouth again. The movement was so harsh that his teeth clicked violently and Yugi swore he could hear his muscles twitching and his spine grinding together with the action. He stiffened in confusion, startled by his reaction, and swallowed thickly as he shook his head in response.

He thought to open and close his mouth and then fell silent again. There was nothing that he could think to say as they looked at each other. The red in his eyes was oddly dark, almost so deep in shade that it looked nearly bruised with deep gray.

Was there something Yami didn't like about being a lycanthrope?

Had his family been killed because of a werewolf or something?

Or had he simply had a bad experience since becoming one?

Was he annoyed with it all?

Or was he just uncomfortable with talking about it?

Did he think that Yugi would take the conversation elsewhere?

He halted, opening and closing his mouth again, and then lowered his eyes. "I…Y-Yami, thank you for saving me," he choked out awkwardly. His eyes flickered towards him from beneath his lashes. The other boy blinked stupidly at him, looking at with him something like a stunned horror. "I…I know that I reacted a little badly. But thank you, Yami. I…I'm really glad that you did."

Yami opened and closed his mouth, then something like a distressed noise left him. He blinked at him again, stupefied, and seemed for a moment to almost recoil from his response. For a second he shook his head slowly, then he awkwardly nodded at Yugi with that same mixture of horror and shock on his face. But there was a hint of fascination that came with it, and there was so much to color his expression that Yugi almost flinched upon truly taking it in.

But then Yami mumbled, "Of course" as if it were the simplest thing in the world, as if Yugi had simply given thanks for letting him copy his homework, and it made him shiver.

---

Blood fell to the ground in layers of bright red and dark brown. The green of the grass around him was stained. The shed pine that he had seen on the ground was plastered together with it. The ground seemed to ooze with it for a moment. And, as his claws dug into the earth, it seemed to expel it in fits. Glowing blue-violet eyes rose from a carcass of bright pink and dripping red. Soft brown fur the color of cinnamon burned in his line of sight. He licked his jaws, tilting his head, and the blood dripped from his teeth.

He lapped at his nose, lowering his mouth again. He had torn the stomach open cleanly. The entrails were bright and shiny. He licked at his lips again. Then he dug his teeth into the chunk of rib that was exposed to him.

A current of electricity pulsed through him. It began at his teeth. His incisors shook in his gums. His skin split and bled. His jaws clenched. His nose wrinkled. He choked. The current spread to his throat. His diaphragm shuddered. He choked, coughing. His throat opened and closed. His legs shook. His ears quivered. His paws slid from beneath him.

He shuddered again. He collapsed. Something touched him. It grabbed his legs. It grabbed his scruff. It tugged. He wanted to flail but could not move. He gasped and sputtered. His sides shook. His body trembled. He gasped and ached. Then he felt his body lift. His spine folded, swaying. He ached and his toes twitched. He nearly choked again.

Something stroked his side. A bright glimmer flashed within his eye. He stared blankly ahead. Darkness swirled inwards. He gasped again. He sputtered. He choked. He shuddered. Pain erupted in his side. He burned. He twitched. He cried out.

"Six seconds," a voice cooed. "Good job, Specimen Atem."

He gasped and choked. He sputtered. He twitched. His claws flexed. He panted harder. His side burned and twitched. Another sharp twinge greeted him. Along his spine he felt a desperate heat. The marrow in his bones burst painfully. He trembled, jerking.

"Wounds along the spine heal at the rate of milliseconds."

"Go deeper."

He jerked and shuddered harder. He gasped. He choked. He kicked and twitched. The burning pushed further. He cried out harder. His spine tightened. It ached. The pulsing heat grew harsher. He jerked again.

"It is instantaneous. His bones are healing around the knife."

"As is the power of the Pure-Blood." There was a small pause. "Beautiful. This is the true gift of our little project. Code Name Atem is a success."

He choked and gasped again. The pain splintered and traveled further down. He jerked again. A ferocious ache made him scream. It was strangled but it surged outwards. He gasped and sputtered again.

Then he jerked.

His eyes snapped open again.

The darkness faded.

His eyes flickered about.

The moonlight was cold and pale.

The streetlamp was fake and golden.

And the stare was a shimmering red.

It glowed faintly in the dark.

It drew in what little light existed in front of him.

It pulled it together and harbored it beneath long lashes.

It stared back at him.

It was brilliant.

It was living.

And it made him quake.

He shivered.

"Yami…"

The other wolf shook his head. Then he sat up. As he had before, he left the room. Yugi sat up, watching him. Then he wondered…as he had before. Was it something that Yami had projected onto him? Or was it a night terror of his own again?

Yugi realized it had to be the latter. It had to be something of his own mind. It was horrifying to consider but he knew it to be true. It had to be. He could not fathom it being anything else.

And hoped to every god in religion—any and every one—that it was not something from within the other's mind. By the gods, he hoped these were not things he knew himself…

He sat there, looking at the doorway after him. The thought was too terrible to trail for much longer. But it remained there, unshakable and burning in his mind. He shivered and shook his head slightly. And then it occurred to him slowly.

The little spring of carpet fibers he had heard moments before made his head tip up again.

Yami had returned to his room, so different from the first time he had woken like this. He came in a few feet, looking at him in surprise. His hands were strangely full. In the darkness Yugi almost could not make out what it was in his hand. His lips pulled back and he smiled faintly.

There was a spoon in his left hand.

And in his right was the jar of peanut butter.

Yugi snickered, shaking his head slightly. "You weirdo," he teased, watching him shrug and come to his side of the bed again. He paused momentarily at that line of thought, blinking wide eyes.

His side of the bed…

Had he really just called it that?

Yugi tilted his head but Yami did not pause in sitting down again. The smell of peanut butter was strong against his nose and he snorted softly. The other wolf wrinkled his nose at him in response. But he smiled at him from around the eating utensil. They looked at each other for a moment.

Then the taller wolf pulled the spoon away and bore his teeth into the widest of smiles. The sight of it made Yugi snort, laughing a little harder, and then he returned the gesture. It was amazing to him, at this moment, that Yami was back on the mattress with him. It was even more stunning that he was smiling at him despite his own nervousness. He wanted, for a moment, to laugh and bump their shoulders against each other.

But he worried about scaring him. So instead he smiled a little wider, sure that his face might split with the gesture, and wrinkled his nose again at the smell of the peanut butter as Yami went back to eating.

So, to sum this up real fast... The lycanthrope hierarchy goes like this: Pure-Bloods are the strongest. When they bite a human, it is meant to give them a good portion of their lycanthropy because they're the most powerful. What happens is they cannot spread the most powerful portion of their disease, but they CAN give a human the abilities of a Full-Blood. The Full-Blood is the second rung of the bloodline's hierarchy, with much stronger bones and jaws and better ability at adaptation and healing almost instantaneously in certain areas of infliction. If they bite a human, they create a Half-Blood. Half-Bloods are the most basic lycanthrope. They have the ability to change, have the werewolf senses and smarts, and heal faster than regular humans. Their lifespans are extremely long, but they are not immortal unless they change almost CONSTANTLY to keep their cells from growing older. When they bite someone, they create another Half-Blood, because the virus is at its most basic and can mutate the newest host to the same degree as the alpha to bite them. As for Quarter-Blood wolves, they are the lowest rung, with the weakest of abilities. They don't change but do sometimes dream of running as a wolf, heal a little faster, age a little slower, and are smarter and sometimes stronger than the average person.

The lycanthrope bloodline goes by the amount of the disease in their veins. Quarter-Blood is nearly undetectable, Half-Bloods have the lycanthropy showing equally among normal blood cells, Full-Bloods have almost one hundred percent lycanthropy showing in their veins, and Pure-Bloods have a VERY unique combination of DNA and RNA that makes their blood unlike anything else in existence. This isn't entirely something that you will HAVE to know for the rest of the story (it'll be brought up a couple of times), but I wanted to go ahead and explain so that no one wound up confused by the terms used.

And, also, only certain hellhounds can spread their disease. It's spread almost solely by genetics. You'll see and understand this better as the story goes on and the hellhounds are explained in more depth. Until then, that's all I have to say.