[He sees Ryou feed for the second time, the first time on an independent, living human.
He doesn't envy soul feeders.
Witnessing this does nothing to change his mind.
He'll play it back, later, behind his eyes -- his gentle friend, reduced to bestial hunger, to committing an abomination against the very essence of a person, something that should be able to survive them after death, forever -- but, for now...
...for now, the game is over, the soul is gone, and a switch in his mind that he's been holding down with all his might can finally flip.
His pupils narrow to pinpricks. He moves without thought.
One second, he's several feet away, watching Ryou hunch over a soul, feeling for his friend. The next, his knees hit the ground next to the still-breathing body. Clawlike nails tear open the man's jacket at the elbow, withered hands bring the arm up to his mouth, and, with a mindless growl he doesn't even hear, fangs sink deep into the inside of the forearm.
To say he drinks is too simple.
It's more that by the time he starts to see and hear again, the man in front of him has a similar sunken quality to what he'd perceived in himself, entirely drained of blood, and the other Yugi feels --
-- he feels healthy. Alive. Coherent, clear-headed, like he's been hit with a bucket of water.
Slowly, he unlocks his jaw, pulls away from the arm, lets it drop.]
cw dissociation, vampire feeding
He doesn't envy soul feeders.
Witnessing this does nothing to change his mind.
He'll play it back, later, behind his eyes -- his gentle friend, reduced to bestial hunger, to committing an abomination against the very essence of a person, something that should be able to survive them after death, forever -- but, for now...
...for now, the game is over, the soul is gone, and a switch in his mind that he's been holding down with all his might can finally flip.
His pupils narrow to pinpricks. He moves without thought.
One second, he's several feet away, watching Ryou hunch over a soul, feeling for his friend. The next, his knees hit the ground next to the still-breathing body. Clawlike nails tear open the man's jacket at the elbow, withered hands bring the arm up to his mouth, and, with a mindless growl he doesn't even hear, fangs sink deep into the inside of the forearm.
To say he drinks is too simple.
It's more that by the time he starts to see and hear again, the man in front of him has a similar sunken quality to what he'd perceived in himself, entirely drained of blood, and the other Yugi feels --
-- he feels healthy. Alive. Coherent, clear-headed, like he's been hit with a bucket of water.
Slowly, he unlocks his jaw, pulls away from the arm, lets it drop.]