Axel: So, did you guys enjoy that little update? ROFL. Sorry, for realz yo, for MAKING YOU WAIT! Because I made you wait TOO LONG, now I'm making you guys wait NOT SO LONG for THIS update. Make any sense? Hope so, because I have no idea what I'm saying…

Squalo: …you need mental help.

Axel: YOU'RE MEAN! -sobs- Anyway, maybe I should do some review responses?

Hana1225: Aww, sorry! Yeah, she's a total redhead. Do you watch the anime or just read the manga?

poutergeist: Great, I'm glad you like it!

Yami Dragoness of Dark: UWAAAA~. -clings to- Nope! I couldn't abandon you guys. IMPOSSIBLE! Agh, but yeah, I know… freaking Byakuran, always messing things up. You can expect some epic badguyness from him soon. I just HAVE to torture the boys! It's in my blood!

MeLoNnAiSE: HAHA, you're the first one who said you love Byakuran. But I have to agree, I'm getting anxious to put him in already. 8059? WHY YES. I had to have them make up, or else my borrowed Gokudera muse would HATE ME FOREVER.

Irrelevancy: Everyone loves Yama! Or, at least, I hope so. I mean, what's NOT to love? And you got your wish of a new update, TO THE EXTREME!

Axel: P.S. Sorry for any typos. With how fast I did this, I didn't have time to sit back and go through it all properly. I'll get around to it, but I'm sure you all are just anxious to see what happens next! Enjoy~.

-ushishikufufu-

Promises were supposed to mean nothing to Gokudera. He had been promised many things in his life and a majority of them had been taken back. But that was supposed to be different with Takeshi. It hadn't taken long for the werewolf to steal what was left of his heart, but he had, and even by this fault of Yamamoto's leaving that left them without protection, in the end the silvernette couldn't help but to forgive him. Not only did the man have a legitimate excuse, but Gokudera could tell so easily that the result of what had happened had an utmost negative effect on Yamamoto. He'd never seen Takeshi's eyes in that much pain before.

He'd returned to the room soon after Yamamoto left, taking it upon himself to point out wounds that weren't healing well on the others to Squalo, who had already torn up his entire left sleeve as makeshift bandages. The lack of healing properties were due to scarce blood, but since Yamamoto was fetching them a supply, they were hoping to gain some of that strength back.

"Vooi, bomb brat, come look at this for a second," Squalo interjected, bringing Gokudera away from finishing the wrapping of Fuuta's ankle. He left the task to Kyoko and stepped over to the Varia leader, who was currently looking over Chikusa Kakimoto, one of their more quiet vampires.

"What is it?"

Squalo had peeled back the collar of Chikusa's shirt, exposing an odd, oval shaped wound by his collarbone that almost looked dotted in separation the entire way around. Dried blood caked the mass of it—the wound looked deeper than it was large—making Chikusa's pale skin look even sicklier by the contrast.

Gokudera knelt beside Squalo, his brows furrowed in confusion. "Is that… a bite mark?" When Chikusa tensed, the two silvernettes were nearly positive that it was. The ebony haired male had always been so closed off and quiet, so the others had taken to, instead, reading his actions and expressions—when Chikusa made them, of course. "Who did this to you, Chikusa?" the bomb lover asked carefully, eying the wound critically. The pattern of the bite didn't look like anything another vampire could do. After all, when a vampire bit someone, there were only two marks left as evidence.

When they hadn't received an answer, Squalo scoffed angrily. Using his fake hand, the Varia leader moved to brush away some of the hardened blood, but Chikusa suddenly jerked away from the grip, his dark eyes hard and unreadable. "The hell? If you don't want he—"

"I'm back!" a cheerful voice called, causing Squalo to glance over his shoulder and Gokudera to turn completely. Yamamoto had a large burlap sack thrown over his shoulder, and as he stepped into the room and shut the door behind him, he fished a hand into the opening to pull out an IV bag and hand it to Fuuta sitting on the floor. "There's enough for two per person, but if I were you, I'd hold out on the second bag until you need it." A silent crowd had circled around Yamamoto, gratefully taking their IV bags when they were offered.

After most of the bags had been distributed, Takeshi carried what was left in the bag over to Gokudera, Squalo and Chikusa. He handed a few bags over to the three of them, but it seemed that both Gokudera and Squalo had their minds on something other than blood. "Oi, Takeshi. Do you know what this is?" Hayato asked, ignoring Chikusa's slight glare while he grabbed the ebony haired vampire by the arm and put the wound into Yamamoto's line of sight.

Yamamoto drew in a sharp breath. "Who… Chikusa…. Do you know what that is?" Takeshi asked carefully, giving the wounded vampire the beginning of a serious look. A few seconds passed until Chikusa slowly nodded.

"What? Seriously, what the hell could something like this mean anyway?" Squalo snapped, irritated that Chikusa wasn't letting him help, or speak up on the matter either. Yamamoto stared at Chikusa for several long moments while the ebony kept his gaze intensely on the floor. Eventually, the werewolf heaved a small sigh and gripped both silvernettes by the elbow, leading them away. Squalo was the only one who struggled out of the grip and stopped immediately. "What?"

"It's a cultural thing," Takeshi started, unsure of how to properly explain something like this. Gokudera could tell he wasn't exactly comfortable with explaining by the way the werewolf was rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

"And?" Squalo insisted, silver eyes unblinking. "It sure as hell isn't a vampire thing. We would have known that."

"Well..," the tanned male sighed, "Basically, for werewolves, a mark like that would be a mating mark. Typically—"

"What?" both Squalo and Gokudera chimed in at the same time.

"Hang on, let me explain!" Takeshi shook his head. "Usually werewolves mark each other when they decide to mate. And when they choose their mates, it's for life. A mark like that can't go away. Although, I have to see I'm surprised that… a werewolf would choose a vampire for their mate. That's pretty one-sided, since vampires can't bite werewolves back—that's deadly."

"So you're saying one of your kind mated with Chikusa?" Squalo inquired, simply to clarify. His silver eyes momentarily returned to Chikusa, who hadn't removed his gaze from the floor.

"Well, yes. That's what it looks like."

"Che. Idiot, why are you just telling us about this now?" Gokudera eyed Yamamoto with a hard, questioning look, causing the werewolf to hesitate slightly in responding. By 'us', Gokudera probably meant 'me', and Yamamoto didn't even want to broach the subject about mating. It was like the sex talk all over again.

"Haha, well… it never came up. Anyway, maybe I can find out who mated with Chikusa. The scent should still be on him." Attempting to somewhat change the subject, the werewolf neared Chikusa again, surprised when he received a hiss and the ebony shielding his shoulder with his palm protectively. "Na, Chikusa… Whoever bit you isn't in trouble. It's a good thing, actually. If more werewolves were accepting of vampires, then maybe there wouldn't be so much fighting between them." He made sure to kneel, as to not seem so threatening, but Chikusa didn't make a move to submit, and eventually Yamamoto decided to stop pushing.

Instead, Takeshi handed the mated vampire his second IV bag and stood up, clapping his hands together. "This is all I can do for now. I have a few things to do before he arrives, so I should be going." Hazel eyes turned to seafoam green hues, remaining locked for a few seconds until Yamamoto moved to leave.

"Che."

The two silvernettes watched the werewolf's back until the door closed. And since the mystery of the bite was solved, Squalo had other things to attend to—namely ribbing up his other shirt sleeve to wrap more unsealing wounds.

"Don't just stand there, bomb brat! Help me out." Gokudera, snapping out of a thoughtful contemplation, focused his attention back to aiding the wounded.

-ushishikufufu-

Xanxus was getting pissed.

No, he was beyond pissed. It had been five hours since he'd last seen his nephew, and the brat knew well not to keep him waiting, especially when Byakuran would be arriving any minute. The werewolf ruler hadn't exactly given them a time estimate on when he would arrive, but Yamamoto had told him he assumed it was sometime after three in the afternoon. Well, it was afternoon all right, and were either bastards to be found? No.

The Vongola boss clenched an angry fist on the arm rest of his throne, which his underlings had currently seated at one of the ends of the long, rectangular table set for dinner. He would have been in the library if his damn peons hadn't insisted on moving the chair sooner; and since his throne was his most satisfactory seating arrangement, it wasn't like he could sit on one of those hard assed chairs Squalo had chosen to put all around the rest of the manor. The damn vampire had no comfortable tastes.

"Uncle."

There had been an unspoken truce written between Yamamoto and Xanxus for the time being. And since the younger werewolf no longer held a rebellious attitude with him, it was easier for him to be tolerated. Of course, the older man knew this was temporary. As soon as Byakuran was gone, Yamamoto was going straight back to his defiant ways. When that time came, Xanxus was already prepared to show him who was boss.

Xanxus was silent. He was already pissed for his nephew taking so long, and now that the boy had finally decided to show up, he wanted this boss's attention? Think again.

"Uncle, answer me or not, but Byakuran has arrived." Crimson eyes regarded the young werewolf murderously, but it wasn't necessarily because he felt like ripping off the boy's head. More so because he would rather direct that energy towards Yamamoto instead of reverting it to Byakuran, and most likely being afflicted for it if he did.

"Then you'd better go greet him, scum," Xanxus said pointedly, deciding that now was a good time to close his eyes and mentally ensure that he was going to be ready for the headache to come. Of course, he did take sadistic comfort in knowing that he could take out his frustrations on his trash.

"Now, now, Xanxus, there's no need. I'm already here."

Yamamoto froze, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end while he suppressed a shiver. He hadn't been expecting hearing that voice so suddenly, but he quickly moved out of the doorway enough to give the white haired man and his two escorts—two males, a teal haired one and a crimson haired one—access to the room. Byakuran looked about the interior of the dining hall with mild, and probably fake, interest.

"Rather impressive how parasites managed to make this place look halfway decent. Don't you agree, Xanxus?" All eyes turned to the dark haired man sitting in his throne. Impressively, Xanxus's eyes remained closed.

"Trash will be trash."

The young werewolf came to his senses at his Uncle's voice, and as underlings began to filter in—some taking seats, and others placing appetizers on assorted plates around the table—he raised an arm in an effort to get the werewolf ruler's attention. "Lord Byakuran, if you would like to take your seat—"

Byakuran took his rightful seat on the opposite end of the table from Xanxus. His throne wasn't as extravagant as the one Xanxus sat in, but the underlings had taken good care in choosing a close second. Thankfully, Byakuran didn't appear conflicted by it. His two escorts sat on either side of him.

"Ah, I don't believe I fully introduced my companions," the fair haired man began, a smile on his face, slanted eyes closed suspiciously. Yamamoto took the slight distraction of conversation to seat himself at his Uncle's right hand. "To my left, we have Zakuro, and my right, Kikyo. They're my latest creations." Byakuran couldn't help but chuckle at his wording.

Xanxus's blood red eyes cracked open. He didn't need to ask what the man meant, since Byakuran took it upon himself to explain anyway.

"They weren't born werewolves, if you couldn't tell. That makes them special." Neither Kikyo nor Zakuro appeared disturbed by the way their leader spoke of them, as if they were some kind of experiments. They were more like ornaments, well, or so they seemed at the moment. Yamamoto had a feeling they could do much more than sit there and look flawless. "How special is up for you to determine. Actually, I had been hoping you had kept some of those leeches alive, Xanxus. I would love to show you what they could do."

Yamamoto was struggling to keep it together. If Xanxus gave into his peaked interest and showed Byakuran the surviving vampires, there was no way any of them would have a chance. He tried not to seem to worried about it, unsure if whether or not Byakuran could tell, of if he were truly interested in his own words only. God, maybe he should have tried to help the vampires escape sooner. Byakuran's wrath was far more severe than anything his Uncle could have done to him.

"They're all dead. I made sure of that."

The werewolves kept quiet. Yamamoto, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief, told himself that he would definitely try not to act so harshly towards his Uncle's actions in the future, no matter how cruel he became. For a matter of speaking, Takeshi owed him one.

"Is that so? A shame," Byakuran sighed, ignoring the bits of thoroughly cooked meat Kikyo had dished up for him on his plate. "I suppose that horrid scent won't ever leave this place. Really, how can you stand it?"

Xanxus didn't respond. He didn't eat, either. Yamamoto couldn't exactly blame him, after all, he had completely lost his appetite the moment Byakuran entered the room. "Lord Byakuran, I trust your journey went without hindrance?" Talking in replacement of his Uncle was a bit hard sometimes, especially since using more formal language didn't exactly suit him.

"Quite well, actually. I was pleased to see that the surrounding areas appeared to be parasite free. Tell me, how long ago was it that you finished off the last of them from the manor?" Byakuran, who proceeded to ignore the food on his plate, accepted a marshmallow from Zakuro when it was offered. Yamamoto knew better than to comment about it.

"Two weeks ago," Levi A Than chimed in from Xanxus's left side. Crimson eyes sharply turned to his loyal peon, pupils narrowing dangerously.

Byakuran finally opened his eyes, his slanted violet hues boring into the man opposite him on the other side of the table. "That's strange. There's a strong fresh scent on your nephew, Xanxus. Don't you find that peculiar?"

Seconds after the words left Byakuran's lips, Kikyo and Zakuro were out of their seats, almost too fast for even the inhuman eyes to see. The sound of glass breaking and chair legs screeching against the wood floor sounded as the teal haired man slammed Yamamoto's head into the table and Zakuro bent forward over the ebony haired boy, taking in long whiffs of his scent, and the scent that he had been unable to wash off with a mere shower.

Surprisingly, Xanxus stood as well, his gaze met in a locked battle with Byakuran's open eyes.

"Is that a challenge, Xanxus?" the werewolf ruler's voice ebbed, his smile changed into a wicked smirk. When Zakuro finally finished, he darted off after seeking inaudible confirmation from his Lord to do so. Kikyo waited a few moments to follow, giving Yamamoto his limbs back and the reason to throw his charade out the window.

"NOO!" he roared, canines bared while he ran after the two. Three other werewolves followed him, defiant to the discovery as well. At the moment, Yamamoto didn't care to think who they were—he just wanted to get to the cavern before Kikyo and Zakuro found it first.

"You aren't going to stop them?" Byakuran insisted, his eyes now appearing to slightly glare at the man across from him. Xanxus made no effort to move, or speak, for that matter. His countering glare, however, was death defying. "My, my. You know what this means, don't you?"

The other werewolves who had remained at the table backed away, afraid of the rising egos between both leaders.

"It means if your fucking lab rat scum touches my trash, I'll have their heads on a plate."

-ushishikufufu-

"We're getting the hell out of here."

"What—Damnit, Squalo, what makes you think we can? It could already be too late!"

"I don't care who this Byakuran guy is. If he wants to fuck with my clan, he can fuck with me first. You're second-in-command now, bomb brat. If I have to distract these assholes, I will, but you have to get the others away from here."

Gokudera was scowling. He had already made a promise to Yamamoto that he wouldn't let the others leave until this Byakuran guy had left, but Squalo wasn't letting him keep that promise easily. In fact, moments ago, Squalo had ordered the others to finish off their second IV bags for more strength. He was really planning on escaping while the werewolves were busy entertaining.

"You're insane! Even the Vongola leader was unnerved enough by this Byakuran to reunite you with us! What makes you think you'd survive enough to even buy us time to escape?"

Squalo growled heavily in frustration with the arguments. He was the leader, damnit, he didn't need to have his decisions questioned by someone who hadn't even been close to second-in-command until all the others ahead of him had been wiped out. "Shut up, already! I don't care what that werewolf brat means to you right now, or whatever you said to him. If you don't do it, then your ass can stay behind, and I'll have one of the others lead them to safety."

That was the end of the conversation. And, painfully, as much as Gokudera wanted to keep his promise to Yamamoto, he had to protect the rest of his clan. It was the only way he could live with himself now. So while Squalo clued the others in on his intentions, Gokudera returned to the group, and his silent presence there confirmed his reluctant acceptance.

This was it.

Squalo knew that he was taking advantage of Yamamoto's kindness, as he had freed them all and even supplied them with their feeding supplement, but he couldn't wait any longer. Once the others were prepared, he, along with Gokudera and Spanner, took out the two werewolf guards posted inside the entrance to the cavern with ease. They hadn't been expecting the attack, so they had managed to only knock them out rather than killing them.

The others soon followed. On the top of the stone staircase, Squalo took the moment to take in the faces of his clan—not a single one of them looked afraid. They all wanted freedom, and as it appeared, they would do anything at this point to achieve it. He wasn't about to stand there and breathe false hope into them, because there was a good chance they would all die, but the least he could do was go out for them. After all they've been through, he owed them that much.

"Let's go."

Needless to say, he busted open the door as quietly as one could with their foot, leaping out into the lawn with less speed than he would have had if he had consumed blood on a normal basis rather than three bags in the last two weeks. Gokudera had taken up the rear, making sure all of the others had gotten out before shoving the door back into place.

Unfortunately for Squalo's timing, he'd just given them away.

Squalo had just taken in Zakuro's scent when the crimson haired man had come upon him, watching the vampire curiously and completely forcing himself into the silverette's personal space. He had been too shocked to react, and if it hadn't been for Kyoko and Haru's high pitched screeching, he probably would have been beheaded right there.

Instead, he managed to duck as it took Zakuro a few moments to recover from the sound. A clawed hand drove inches above the vampire's head at a force that could have derailed a mile long train.

Thankfully enough, his distraction was worth something, because the others scattered. They would be less of a target if they stayed in smaller groups, but if Gokudera didn't get it into gear and organize them a way out of the area, then they were going to have problems.

And it was even more of a problem, because Gokudera was the only other vampire left in the clearing, being quickly apprehended by some teal haired freak who tried to rival the length of Squalo's hair. The Varia leader wanted to shout at him, but he had his own distraction to deal with, one that was a lot faster than he was. Squalo soon found himself on the ground with hands tightening around his throat, pulling hard enough for him to see white.

A furry body slammed into Zakuro seconds before he could have successfully ripped Squalo's head from his shoulders. Once again, the pseudo-shark found himself gasping for breaths that he didn't need and staggered to his feet quickly enough to see a wolf about two times the size of a full grown horse barreling towards Kikyo with Zakuro dangling from its jaw.

And it wasn't even a full moon! What the hell was going on?

He caught Yamamoto's scent then, as if his senses had been momentarily turned off while everything around him proceeded in slow motion. Gokudera had been knocked to the ground and that was enough to get him to snap out of it. Squalo flitted over quickly, gripping the bomb lover's arm and heaving him onto his feet. "Go."

"N—no, Takeshi!"

Squalo didn't give him the chance to think about it. Still gripping the brat's arm, he almost literally dragged Gokudera out of harm's way and into the fringe of the forest. An agonized howl ripped through the quiet night's air, and that alone brought the younger vampire to yank his arm free. "Takeshi's hurt! I'm going back!"

"Are you stupid? You'll die!" Squalo retorted, attempting to get another grip on Gokudera before he got out of reach, but to no avail.

"So?" Gokudera glared in his leader's direction before sprinting off in the direction they had come from. But Squalo had no time to go back and try to rescue them. Whoever those freakish werewolves were, they were too strong for any of his clan to handle in their current state. He had to focus on regrouping them and leading them on the directed path.

Meanwhile, in the clearing close to the entrance of the cavern, Takeshi was rapidly losing strength. Zakuro had long since freed himself of the iron grip the wolf had gotten on him and, from the looks of it, had nearly broken the boy's jaw in the process. Kikyo had disappeared, leaving the two werewolves—Zakuro in his human form and Takeshi as a full fledged wolf—to battle it out alone. Byakuran had been right, though, his creations were special. And deadly.

It looked like Zakuro was attempting to get an easy kill out of Yamamoto, but the young werewolf wasn't giving the redhead the satisfaction. Yamamoto was getting sluggish, though, and while he attempted to lash out a front paw aimed for his opponent's chest, Zakuro dived and jammed his hand right under the boy's ribcage. Yamamoto howled.

"Leave him alone!" Gokudera's voice carried, but he caught the opposing werewolf off guard enough to throw him away from Yamamoto. At the moment, the vampire was faster than Yamamoto had been, but Zakuro was still faster. The red haired man easily jumped back up to his feet, backhanding the silvernette enough to leave four deep gashes on his cheek. Yamamoto howled again, this time out of outrage, bounding over the vampire at Zakuro despite his aching wounds.

"I don't have time to play with children." It was the first time either of the two experiments had spoken and it didn't cease from sending chills. Still, Gokudera couldn't just stand there in awe of a minor wound while Yamamoto fought for him. He launched himself at Zakuro when the redhead threw Yamamoto into a tree. The man caught the silvernette by the throat in midair, leaving Gokudera dangling while he struggled helplessly to get free. The sounds of bones breaking close to where the young werewolf fell meant that Yamamoto was too weak to keep his wolf form, so there was no possible way Gokudera could live after this. It was the end.

"Zakuro, kill it later. The leader is escaping."

Gokudera was dropped to the ground without a second thought. Kikyo had returned, holding the head one of the vampires between his filthy, blood stained claws. The silvernette could still see behind blurring eyes after he hit the ground. The teal haired werewolf dropped the head much like Zakuro had dropped Gokudera, and the two of them disappeared into the forest without a sound.

"Ha – Hayato.."

As it was, Gokudera was still in much better shape than Yamamoto was. In his human form, his wounds were easy to make out, and it already pained the vampire to see that the werewolf wasn't even looking at him—he was staring at the head Kikyo had dropped in complete horror.

The silvernette forced himself to his feet. It wasn't Yamamoto's fault that he couldn't protect the vampire who'd died. If anything, it was his fault for not keeping his promise about keeping the others from escaping until Byakuran left. When he finally reached the other's position by the trees, he fell to his knees beside him and ghosted a hand over the wound on his stomach. It looked bad.

Takeshi finally locked eyes with him. "Hayato…!"

"Shh, don't you dare say anything," Gokudera snapped hoarsely, reaching down to grab at Yamamoto's wrist and attempt to haul the arm attached over his own shoulders. "Do you think you can stand, Takeshi?"

Yamamoto didn't know if he could, but that didn't stop him from trying. About halfway up, though, he cringed and went limp, bringing the weakened vampire down on top of him when he fell. Damn, werewolves were heavy, and Yamamoto needed help!

"Hayato… go help the others. And if you see… those guys, then you run," Takeshi murmured, bringing a hand up to inspect the clawed gashes on Gokudera's cheek. Hayato looked at the werewolf as if he'd burned him.

"Like hell I will! I'm not leaving you here. You're either coming with me or I'm staying here with you." The silvernette wasn't going to budge on this. He found the hand pressed against the one searching over his cheek and held it tightly in his own.

"Hayato.."

"Herbivores should stay where they are."

Shocked, as neither the vampire nor werewolf had detected the scent of someone approaching, Yamamoto and Gokudera quickly glanced up. Two men stood several yards away on the opposite side of the clearing. The moonlight illuminated them enough to tell that the blunet with the ebony who had spoken to them looked to have already picked up Kikyo and Zakuro's scents.

"This way, Kyouya."