So! I've been told that what this used to be was Not Allowed? Instead, I've decided to post all the omakes I've got written right now. I hope you all like them, and I'll just say this:

Since all of you apparently unanimously like the original Tenth Night, I'll be continuing the Eleventh from that, but I'll leave the Alternate up for a precedent chapter. But since I've decided to do something so original, then the next chapter might take me longer than normal. I'm going to say sorry in advance for that.

In this chapter there's mentions of suicide, panic attacks lots of swearing in the "Body Snatcher" omake and periods. I'm pretty sure that's it, there's the warning.

IN WHICH YUUKI FINALLY CONTRACTS "MOON SICKNESS" || "THE MONTHLIES APPEAR"

She'd known she couldn't avoid her biology forever. She'd known it but she had so dearly hoped that it wouldn't happen until she was, like, 15. Or never? Never would be great, really.

But no. Here she is, having had to jury-rig something out of paper towels and then run herself to the store in town several miles away to buy pads, new underwear and a pair of pants by herself because when she had asked Zero to do it he had paled and swayed, and Cross had outright fainted. She didn't know anyone else to ask!

So now she's curled up in bed, wrapped mostly around a pillow as her lower stomach feels like it's being scooped out and scraped with an old, somewhat dented spoon. She's trying really hard not to cry, because doing so would undoubtedly make her headache worse, and she kind of really wants hugs.

But the boys are ignoring her right now as though her period is somehow communicable, and while she's sure Kaname would not deprive her of hugs, she's not desperate enough to call a vampire to comfort her as she bleeds out. It seems as though it would be incredibly rude to do so.

Yuuki sniffles miserably and stifles a whimper as a particularly painful ache spikes through her entire torso.

"Yuuki?" Cross' hesitant voice calls for her attention from the doorway of her bedroom and she looks up. She can see only his head, as the rest of him is hiding behind the wall, and when she meets his eyes she can literally see any resolutions he had made shatter as he hurries into the room. "Do you need anything, sweetie?"

She sniffles a few more times before nodding.

"Two aspirin… And hugs?" She requests hopefully. Cross disappears and at first she thinks he has decided to flee, but then he's back with an already opened bottle of slightly warm apple juice, two aspirin and another blanket. She takes her medicine and then curls up in his lap, feeling very uncomfortable and terrible.

"WHY YUUKI IS NO LONGER ALLOWED TO TAKE DISCIPLINARY ACTION" || HOW YUUKI MEETS WAKABA SAYORI

Someone had been bullying her.

She wasn't entirely sure why they'd started to do so, or who it was, but she's pretty sure she's being bullied. Her school bag winding up out a window, tacks or sticky things being left in her seat and the mess being "forgotten", her notebooks winding up in the hands of others and then defaced on "accident". She's sort of ashamed to admit that it took her this long to notice it, but she's noticed it now.

She's also noticed that she's not the only person they're bullying, either. There's their class rep who is being bullied, a boy with thick glasses and a volume control issue. There's also a girl with short, very pale brown hair and similarly colored eyes. The class rep has been on the receiving end of verbal taunts, but the other girl has been on the receiving end of both verbal taunts and her dorm room being vandalized. Yuuki was angry that the girl's privacy was so violated, as well as her things, but also selfishly relieved that she isn't staying in the dorms.

As she eyes the girl being taunted ("Sasori-yori", "Dead-Eyed Yori"), Yuuki makes a decision. She's been wanting to make friends , and this should be a good way to do so, right?

"Why do you even need all of this?" Zero asks, holding onto one grocery bag as he picks through it, looking skeptical and sounding wary. "Chili powder, three sewing kits, industrial glue, vinegar and a multi pack of eye droppers?"

"Disciplinary action," Yuuki says in a cheery voice, noticing their final stop with no little amount of excitement. Electrical Home Improvement.

"Yuuki-"

"Don't get in my way, Zero. I'm going to be making friends."

"YUUKI THE UNWILLING BODY SNATCHER" || WHY IT IS BETTER THAT YUUKI DOES NOT REMEMBER

Waking up is painful in a way she can't completely describe. She'd drank herself sick and chewed up at least twelve different conflicting kinds of prescription pills in the basement of an abandoned house, there's no reason why she should be waking up. There is no way anyone managed to save her or take her to the hospital, no, it's impossible-

But she is, and she's in the middle of fucking nowhere in a blizzard what the fuck, and her chest feels hollowed out and everything is wrong. There's blood collecting in the snow at her feet but she can't feel it's source. Looking around, it really is obvious that there's no sign of anything anywhere other than snow, and-

Wait, there's a figure approaching from behind her, coming in her direction. It's a man in a long coat and scarf, and as he gets closer, his face seems animalistic and twisted. He's saying something, but she can't understand it. It sounds like Japanese, and she knows maybe a handful of phrases and words in the language. Why can't it just be English, which is her actual native language?

The man reaches for her, eyes glowing red (what the fuck?) and it takes her maybe a blink of time to decide 'fuck that', and bite him, sinking her teeth into the flesh between his thumb and forefinger as deeply as she is able, a high pitched shriek rattling it's way up from her throat with all the force she can devote to it at the same time. The man snarls at her and says something else, arm flexing and then jerking, dislodging her and sending her flying over the snow. Her entire body jars when she is caught by someone, and she almost swallows the webbing of his hand that she'd taken with her.

She manages to spit out the half chewed flesh before that can happen, though if some of the blood found its way down her throat it wouldn't surprise her, despite how disgusting the thought is.

She's being held in someone's arms, her back against their torso. It's either a male or a flat chested female, and their arms are thin beneath the thick sleeves of their coat. One hand, strangely lacking a glove, rises to cover her eyes, but the fingers are not a sufficient barrier between her sight and the image of the man she'd bitten bursting into bloody chunks all over the snow. None of them reach them, and the hand over her eyes disappears only after the figure has turned her body to face them.

"Hello," the boy calls- because holy shit this is a boy. Still looking rather stretched out, his eyes reddish brown and his hair a similar shade but darker, most of it reaching beneath his jaw in smooth, slightly wavy strands. "Are you alright?" He asks, shifting so one arm is braced beneath her legs and bottom so the other is free to wipe at her face gently, though she doesn't know why. Distantly, she manages to translate the simple inquiries, but...

She doesn't answer. Can't answer because she's just realized that she's tiny. This lanky boy is holding her like she's a toddler with no visible effort and that should not be possible. Last time she'd checked she was 5'4" and 170lbs and a grown adult.

"Hello?" The boy repeats. He says something she doesn't understand and her eyes begin to sting.

I don't understand. I don't understand. I don't-

She wakes up by herself in a bed in a room she does not recognize. Alone? Alone alone alone alone-

"Hello," a voice calls for her attention. Her head rolls to the side and looks over, her body going completely still. There's a man with ash blonde hair and glasses in the doorway, his body swathed in blankets. He says something and mentions what she thinks might be a name (Kaname?) and then droops with a sigh. "My name is Cross Kaien, what's your name?"

Her brain fumbles through the translation before it completely registers, and she's only about 80% sure that it is the correct translation. She's feeling somewhat numb right now, but she's acutely aware that such a thing could change at the drop of a hat.

She says nothing.

She's afraid, and has locked herself in the closet of the room she's been given.

She's been given a lot of things. A new wardrobe, a new room, a new name (Yuuki), a new body.

It's the first thing she's done without any prompting from the man- from Cross-, and it feels dumb and cowardly but she's nearly hyperventilating, and hypervigilance is playing merry hell on her. Slight shifts in light are obvious, scents are stronger, she can hear things from greater distances, her skin feels incredibly sensitive.

She's not sure why she's afraid, but there's an instinctual fear that's swelling up and choking her, and the more she cries, the harder it is to breathe, her head feeling like it's being pressurized and her chest feeling like it's caving inwards. She's curled up in the farthest corner from the door in the dark closet, knees against her chest and body in the smallest form possible, and is acutely aware she's being nowhere near as quiet as she would prefer.

Loud, gasping cries are scraping past her rarely used throat despite her best efforts, and she would forcibly silence herself if she wasn't so sure that biting herself wouldn't hurt her so terribly. She's starting to calm down now, anyways, sort of.

"Yuuki," a soft voice calls from outside of the closet. It isn't Cross, but the voice is familiar regardless. Her heart rate spikes painfully. "Yuuki, will you come out?" She can't speak, can't move- scared. Scared. Please. Scared. "I'm going to come inside," the voice continues. The second the door opens and light comes in, her over sensitive eyes burn and she shrieks, tucking her head against her knees, and the door closes quickly after admitting the body of the other person.

They fold into a seated position, knees against their chest, and across from her. Her eyes eventually manage to see them past the spots in her eyes to see that it's the boy from that snowy day a few months ago.

"My name is Kaname Kuran," he introduces once he sees her gaze on him. She shifts and presses away from him, uncomfortable about being in such an enclosed space with a stranger. Last time it'd happened-

Her next breath is drawn with a small shrieking noise accompanying it, the sound beyond normal human hearing but audible to her too-sensitive ears. Her eyes hurt. Everything hurts. She feels less scared, though, and less panicked and over stimulated, the longer she sits in the dark. The boy is not welcome company, despite his mostly unobtrusive presence, and she wants to make him leave, but the thought of speaking is… unappealing… and working up the energy to force him to leave does not seem possible.

As the too intense emotions finally fade away, she's barely hanging onto consciousness, feeling about as emotional as a press dried sponge and sore enough to imply that she'd gotten the same treatment. Her eyes, especially, are gritty, puffy and dry. Her head lulls onto her knees and the boy reaches for her, probably to pull her out of the closet and put her to bed.

The noise she makes is not loud but distinct, conveying a very firm no and the threat of a meltdown of distressing proportions to occur the instant he comes into contact with her. He pulls away from her immediately, settling his hands closer to his body and watching her with concerned eyes.

"Time for bed," he tells her kindly. She nods, reaching one hand up and yanking at the nearest shirt hanging above her, dragging it down and then wrapping it around herself like a blanket, the material soft and cool against her skin. She can practically sense his incredulous stare, but doesn't react to it.

Thankfully, he doesn't reach for her again.

Meeting the boy is… stressful. Sort of. She's eleven and a half now, and she's known about vampires for years now, but being confronted with evidence that not all vampires are so gentle as Kuran seems to be has shaken her worldly foundations just slightly. She'd known that vampires were not usually so… civilized, intellectually, but it's been awhile since she's been exposed to such things.

She's not dumb, she knows that Kuran is definitely not a human being. He's a different species entirely, and she doesn't ever try to delude herself into believing anything otherwise. But she's smart enough to realize that he's treating her carefully, and he knows more about her past than he is willing to explain. There's a reason he looks so much like her, but until he acknowledges it and explains, she's content to wait. Mostly.

Until she's an adult, anyway. Then she'll confront him if he hasn't explained, and if she hasn't gotten too impatient and found the answers for herself.

She really, really doesn't want to touch him. He's left standing in the hallway as Cross disappears back out the door, and he doesn't seem to be looking at anything in particular, and he's wrapped pretty thoroughly in Cross' coat, but she can smell the blood from where she's standing already- she'd never been able to smell blood before, had she? Cross hadn't even told her his name! What was she supposed to do?! He probably hadn't expected that she'd talk to the boy, and so wouldn't need his name, but-!

But as she carefully approaches him, staring into his face, she realizes that he's mentally checked out. He's not paying attention to anything at all, his pupils blown wide, his breathing shallow but with significant pauses between each breath. He's forcefully dissociating himself from the situation… She can relate. Studying him, he doesn't look like he'd know sign, or is in any condition to focus enough to mentally translate it. So…

She opens her mouth and hesitates. It's been a long time since she's spoken a single word, but she needs him to acknowledge her or give her permission to touch him. To touch him without either would be very not okay. It could trigger a panic attack, it could make him lash out, or it could send him into a complete meltdown. Which… She could also relate to.

Touching her in the aftermath of dissociating or a panic attack was very much a bad idea. Kuran and Cross had discovered that very quickly.

"Touch?" Eventually croaks it's way out of her mouth. Her eyebrows furrow and she gets a little closer. "Do I… have permission to touch you?" She asks haltingly, the Japanese coming off of her tongue with a slight slur. She knows the words, knows how they're supposed to sound, but she's never personally said them, and they're awkward coming off of her tongue.

He doesn't respond to her, doesn't twitch or shift, eyes still blank behind the shadow of his hair and brow. She can see that they're pale colored, but the exact color is lost to her. She shifts slightly, bending just a little to get a more direct look into her eyes. He's taller than her so it wouldn't usually be necessary, but his chin is practically tucked into his chest, so she needs to do so.

"Permission?" She repeats in a slightly more forceful tone, the taste of blood a little thick on her tongue from the scent wafting off of him. She can't see any blood beneath the coat from her position, but that doesn't mean he isn't injured somewhere.

The boy jerks just slightly, but his head moves in a nod, his pupils visibly flexing just slightly as though to focus on her but they don't actually seem to do so.

She reaches over to rest a hand on his upper back carefully, her skin crawling at the contact, but the feeling lessened slightly by the cloth of the coat between he and her hand.

"Come on," she bids, words still slurring but slightly less, and moving them in the direction of the bathroom. If he's injured, she can maybe do some first aid. Stitches are beyond her, but anything short of that should be within her power, and the first aid kit is practically a portable clinic, so she doubts she will be lacking anything.

He moves without any fuss, his steps dragging slightly but he doesn't stagger. His back is straight, not slumped, and from where her palm is resting, she can feel the shift and pull of muscle, smooth, if a little slow.

They reach the bathroom soon enough, and she removes her hand from him as soon as she can be excused to do so, orbiting around him to make her way to the sink cabinet and pulling out the first aid kit, resting it atop the counter and opening it up. She then turns towards the boy again, studying the way that he is clutching the coat rather tightly to himself.

"Coat?" She prompts when a soft tug on the material does not get him to release it, and his fists release it swiftly, hands dropping limply to his sides and the coat remaining on his frame only by his shoulders. Yuuki peels it open and then off, dropping the material off to the side and then turning her attention to him once more. Her insides feel squeezed as her eyes lock onto the blood smeared across his throat and chest, his shirt missing and lower half covered by a pair of similarly stained blue pajama pants.

She's almost immediately sick at the amount of blood. But now is not the time to be sick. Not the time.

She inhales sharply through her mouth to try and avoid smelling the blood anymore but that doesn't help, the taste of blood thick over her tongue and sickening, so she simply rolls her shoulders back slightly, orbiting him once more to make her way back to the sink and take one of the washcloths kept beneath the bathroom sink.

Wetting it under warm water, she makes her way back to the boy after wringing it out. Stopping in front of him, she shows him the cloth, water running down her wrist and forearm. He doesn't react, and while she's unhappy about getting so close to him and touching him again, she takes that as an acceptance and steps closer, lifting the cloth and beginning to wipe at the blood.

The corner of the boys lips twitch slightly, as though to snarl, and she pauses. He doesn't follow through on his discontent, so she continues to clean the blood, watching carefully for an injury to be revealed, but none is revealed. She is about as relieved as she is wary, mind already connecting the lack of injury, amount of blood and nature of the attack to the boy's circumstances. But she shouldn't just jump to conclusions, he might just be a fast healer.

The boy doesn't show any sign of being willing to wash himself, and if she draws him a bath he just might drown in the water, if he got in at all.

She's not a stranger to the male anatomy, but she doesn't want to touch him for that long, and has a feeling that he doesn't want her to, either. She leaves the boy in the bathroom for a moment and pokes around the hallway and entryway before discovering a duffel bag that is likely Zero's near the front door.

She collects it and makes her way back to the bathroom, peering at the silver haired boy who is still staring blankly at the floor, shirtless and still. She approaches carefully and prods his arm before making a "follow me" motion with that hand where he can see it. She turns to leave and when she hears his footsteps following, she almost wants to grin to herself but doesn't.

She shows him to the room across from her own, dumping his bag on his bed and then making her way out of the room to go to the living room. The boy follows her still, and she isn't sure if it's because he doesn't want to be alone, or if it's because he isn't sure if she wants him to continue following. As she sits in the armchair in the corner of the room with the kanji workbook she'd been working on before he'd arrived, the chair placed specifically for her comfort, she gestures him to the couch.

He doesn't acknowledge her anymore after he sits down, his attention on the ground as Yuuki quietly works on memorizing kanji and waits for Cross to come home.

She wakes up from a nightmare in the armchair a few hours later, jerking into a more upright position. There's an unfamiliar disorientation, and her skin feels like it's going to crawl right off of her muscles as she sees a hand on her leg, which she has tucked close to her chest.

The boy is standing in front of her, his eyes intent on her face, and when he sees that she is awake and coherent, he pulls away. She blinks at him for a moment as her nausea and terror fades, and then her eyes widen when she sees the bloody furrows scratched into the side of his neck.

She's pushed up out of the chair and fluttering uselessly about the boy, then, unsure on what to do. She settles for gesturing for him to follow her again and making her way to the bathroom, hurrying slightly, and rushing to pull out the first aid kit. Neck wounds are relatively serious, and while she's fairly sure that they're self harm wounds, they need to be cared for anyways.

As soon as the boy enters the bathroom, she approaches him with the warm cloth she'd gotten ready just in time, cleaning the blood quickly and then tucking an antiseptic soaked cotton pad overtop the still sluggishly bleeding wounds, before wrapping his neck in white gauze to both the sensitive flesh from further harm and stop the pad from slipping.

The boy seems more lucid, and as she steps away to study him, she sees that he'd put on a proper set of pyjamas while she'd been unconscious, but she'd not noticed. She also notices the blood collecting on the fingertips and beneath the nails of his left hand. She slides backwards, tossing the bloody rag into the laundry basket, storing away the first aid kit and then pointedly turning the tap onto a lukewarm setting. The boy studies her for a moment before approaching, and she skips backwards out of immediate arms reach once he is close enough for it to be an issue.

She hovers momentarily in the bathroom doorway before she hears the front door open and promptly flees in that direction.