Author's Rant: Thanks for the support everyone. Enjoy!

Recognition

No hanging out all hours of the night for me. I had to cancel my plans with the guys to help Granddad with a shipment of new cards, courtesy of Kaiba Corporation, a suddenly sprung up company hell bent of introduction a new generation of games to improve the future. Supposedly away. It wasn't nothing but a hyped game of spades in my opinion. Whoever has the best cards will always trump over the other. Yugi is more in tuned to the rules and knowhow then me. He's tried numerous times to urge me into learning, but I didn't have the patience.

This Sunday we were busy as ever. Granddad always kept a sale going up to the afternoon to help thin out the old shipments. Yugi and me were constantly running back and forth from the back of the shop to the front, bringing in boxes of hold cards Granddad sold at half price. Actually, I was running back and forth. Yugi is in the hallway struggling to drag a box more than half his side and ten times his weight. A task I gave him just to keep the kid busy.

I know he means well—I love him to death—but on days like this, he's just in the way.

Plus, I got a kick out of seeing him go all red faced and pouty when the box barely budged an inch or two. I always tell him, if you can manage to get the box to the front of the store before we close, I'll let you help Granddad with the front counter.

That's all the motivation he needs. Meeting new people is the highlight of the day for him. To me they were just a bunch of folks taking up room in our small house/shop. The sooner we got these vultures out, the better. I wanted to head to the park away with Yugi. Just to get in some practice before he tried out for the school baseball team. I was going to make that kid into the next all star if it killed me.

"How you holdin' up, kiddo?" I ruffled his hair going down the hall.

Yugi gripped the edges of the box and tugged hard, digging the heels of his favorite light up High Top Air Jordan 3's into the carpet. He was wearing his Transformer's red tee and black cargo shorts. He looked over the box at me, pitifully.

"I can't get it to move, Heba!" he whined. "There's—too—much—stuff!" He pulled and pulled and pulled, but besides a slight twitch at the top, the box stayed put. He gave it one final pull before screeching through his teeth.

I nearly choked from trying to hold back my laugh. "Keep trying, kiddo. You'll get it."

Yugi gave it another try before throwing his hands up. "Ugh, screw this! It won't move!"

"Hey," I snapped over my shoulder. "Watch your language."

Yugi pouted. "You say bad words all the time," he grumbled.

I heard that from the back storage room. "I'm older," I said back, bending over to lift a flat box on my shoulder and gathering a larger rectangle one under my arm.

"That shouldn't make a difference."

I cocked an eyebrow at him. Yugi ducked behind the box, leveling his, frowning, round eyes at me that pretty much said he'd risk getting spanked for that smart mouth, but I'd have to catch him. I went on after bumping my elbow over his head, ignoring his sharp shout and threats to tell Granddad.

"Have a good day," Granddad said to another exiting customer. We'd reached the end, thank goodness. Empty boxes and card wrappings littered a corner behind the cash counter where Granddad opened them and tossed.

Really, I don't think he even bothered trying for the trashcan right next to his foot. Sighing and rolling my eyes, I squatted down and started doubling up the boxes and dropping the plastic, foil card wrappings and other broken down boxes into the others. I heard a long-winded sigh behind me and glanced over. Granddad was rubbing that little spot on his back.

Crazy old man didn't know how to quit. I smiled. "You're never gonna take it easy are you old man?"

"Huh? You talking to me?" he cheesed back with the shine of a thousand watt light bulb.

"Yeah, I'm talking to you," I playfully shot back. "Keep this up and your back's gonna give out again. Come on over." I pulled out one of the folding chairs by the front window and positioned it by the register.

Granddad straddled the chair, folding his arms over the back. "Ah, good boy. This is just what I needed. I haven't had a break in ages. I never imagined we'd have such a busy day."

I chuckled. "Maybe because this is the only place they can find ultra-rare cards that don't cost an arm and a leg." I cracked my knuckles and started massaging his shoulders. Every muscle needed to worked out. If his back was hurting, his shoulders were definitely tense.

I worked my thumbs against the base of his neck, rubbing wide circles and squeezing with my fingers. Granddad made a sore noise, groaning. I leaned over his shoulder. "You alright?"

Granddad rocked his neck. "Yes, just be a little gentler. My back's not what it used to be."

I snorted. "Nothing on you is what it used to be. Yugi!" While we had this down time, it'd be a good chance to help Granddad smooth out this pain.

Yugi came sprinting from the hall like someone promised him a pot of candy.

"What?"

I jerked my head for him to come over. "Come help me with Granddad's back."

Yugi hurried over, pushing up his sleeves. This wasn't a new routine for him. Unlike a bunch of small kids who would cringe at the thought of massaging their parent's back, Yugi enjoyed watching Granddad turn into Jell-O whenever we both worked on him.

I stepped back for Yugi to squeeze in front of me. He kneeled down, grinned up at me and waited until I gave the nod. With fists like tiny tennis balls, Yugi started to gently pound Granddad's lower back. The old man was on cloud nine, moaning and sighing, asking his to hit more spots more the overs.

The next time he made that noise, it wasn't as painful. "You still feelin' sore?" I asked.

"Not at all," he moaned. "I feel amazing. It does my heart good for my boys to give me a back rub."

"Right." I looked down at Yugi. "He only likes us for the back rubs. I feel so unappreciated."

"Me too," Yugi said. "Grandpa, I think we should get bigger allowances."

Granddad chuckled. "You sleep in warm beds and eat hot meals every night. That's enough payment."

"Free lodging that we clean and meals we cook," I told him.

Granddad shrugged. "How else will you earn your keep?"

"That's it," I threw my hands in the air. "I'm calling child services. This man is abusing child labor. All we're missing are the brown rags and tears!"

Granddad threw his head back laughing. Yugi joined him, cheering and clapping at my dramatic acting. Our little downtime turned into one of the rarities where the home business and outside worries were pushed away from our minds. I danced about, silly as ever. The times got so fun, Granddad swaggered to the back pushed the button on the stereo system towards the back and Chaka Khan—my first love and forever woman—sung her song 'Sweet Thang' so beautifully, I had to contribute my off key singing to it. Yugi wiggled his little butt, wagged his arms and tap danced in a way that was cute for children . . . not big wobbly folks like me and Granddad.

The day remained easy and relaxed. One or two more customers came, asking for the special bargains and of course, Granddad being the helpful and giving man he is, made it possible for the people to find what they were looking for. We closed up around one o'clock that afternoon with me stacking the last cases and Yugi picking out his favorite playing cards to trade with his friends.

With nothing else to do, it was time for the squirt and me to head off to the park and get in some good practice. My coach didn't have a problem with any of us using the field for practice so long as we cleaned up and guaranteed a win for the next game. I promised an added bonus: training Yugi to be his next Rookie of the Year.

I sat on my bed, checking the wall clock. Yugi's been in the closet for fifteen minutes looking for his gear. I don't know how many times I've stressed to my brother how important it was to keep his shit tidy. Does he listen? Hell no.

"Come on, Yugi," I strained impatiently.

"I'm tryin'! I can't find my cleats!"

I rolled my eyes. "Did you check under that cluster of junk in the corner?"

"It's not junk—and no, I didn't. It wouldn't be over there anyway—oh wait, nevermind!" Yugi sprung out from the closet, grinning ear to big ear, holding his muddy cleats. "See? I found them."

And they were filthy. Orange clay, dry from last week's practice, clung around the steel toe and under the spiny points. I took the shoes from him and held them up.

"Look at these." I squatted down in front of him, giving him that hard look. Yeah, that look that scares him to shitless. "How many times I gotta tell ya to polish your shoes? You think anyone's gonna wanna train someone who can't keep their gear in order?"

Yugi looked to the floor, pouting. "No," he mumbled.

"That's right. Recruiters are looking for good players who know how to keep their stuff clean. Here." I shoved the shoes in his chest and spun him around. "Go to the bathroom and wash these off."

Yugi looked up. "Why? They're just gonna get dirty again."

"Just do it!" I smacked his butt and sent him running to the bathroom.

I don't know what I'm going to do with that kid. If he ever becomes a great baseball player, it'll be a cold day in hell. I had to teach him to do everything it seems. I packed up our spare baseball bats, gloves, a catcher's mitt, shoe cleaner, and three helmets. The extra one was for any of the boys who failed to remember bringing their own. It never fails. Someone's always forgetting something and with me being the captain, I had to be responsible and nice enough to help out.

The asses liked to use that to their advantage too. Not that I blamed them. If I had the chance to laze about, I'd do it in a heartbeat. I stuffed in a couple of socks when Yugi came bounding out of the bathroom with his shirt drenched and soggy banes.

"Like this Heba?" Yugi proudly held up his spit shine cleats with pride.

I ruffled his hair. "Did you get any on the shoes?" It'd have to do. I took them and packed them away. "All set?"

"Yep!"

"Awesome. Let's roll out." Oh shit, nearly forgot my hoodie. Hell no. I don't ever go out without my favorite hoodie. I tied my drawstring to keep my black sweats from slipping off my ass and put on blue wife beater. I snatched two Dodger Snapbacks off my bed, passing one to Yugi and we both set out after waving good-bye to Granddad.

We started down the dirt road and out into the piece of city that belonged to the Red Eyes, but was still occupied by the Blues. None of them were stationed in their posts from the looks of it. I gripped Yugi's hand and shrugged our gear higher on my shoulder. Their absence was noticed by the civilians.

There were a bunch of people out as we walked down the sidewalk. Anytime we saw so many meant that the Reds or Blues haven't been around for a while. Who knows why. They just disappeared at random times without any explanations. The times varied, lasting anywhere from a few hours to a couple of weeks.

I think we can breathe easier this time around. With this many people, it meant the gangs haven't been active in the last couple of days.

"Heba look!" Yugi tugged on my hand, pointing ahead of us.

I grin. Two of the guys on my team are already ahead of us, Tyranno Hassleberry the teams' catcher and Aster Phoenix, our first baseman. Both were wearing Under Armour shirts, Hassleberry in black and Phoenix in grey, with red jersey shorts. In between the two, they had someone who had Yugi yanking on my hand to hurry and see.

Little Tristan talked animatedly between Phoenix and Hassleberry, unaware of my little brother sneaking up behind. When he got within mere inches, Yugi jumped on his back, and screamed "Boo!"

"Yugi, what the heck's wrong with you?!"

"Ah-ha, I scared you!"

"No you didn't, jerk!"

Tristan was going to deny it later, but he nearly pissed his pants as he spun around and started chasing Yugi down the sidewalk. Hassleberry and Phoenix snatched the boys up by their collars before they ran in the middle of the street.

"What's up, Muto," Hassleberry grinned like a shark when he saw me walk up.

"Nothing much."

"We missed you at the Boom Saturday man. What you had to do that that meant missing out on some ass?" Hassleberry gave me shiny look as if he could predict the answer. I'll never get over how someone as big, with muscles like titian could be so damn carefree. He had this intimidating factor that made most boys turn in the other direction and some grown men think twice before telling him what to do.

At 6'2, he was a walking, talking Mach truck with dreadlocks down to his back and a crooked grin that guaranteed mischief. Definitely, for anyone he threw it at. I've seen some girls squeeze their legs tight and a few boys adjust themselves in the middle of class because of how he'd go from tough to sexy in a split second.

"It wasn't even like that," I said. "I had some business to take care of."

"Something more important than ass?"

"Absolutely."

Aster Phoenix, the more slender toned and pale skinned of the two of us, snorted under his breath. I cocked my eyebrow at him and he turned his nose up to say that look didn't work on everybody. I had a small thing for him when we first met in middle school; mostly because I'd never seen anyone with grey hair and Egyptian blue eyes. He is an exotic specimen to behold, but that stuck up attitude of his destroyed everything. Still, he's a cool person to hang with.

"You have something you wanna say?" I said to him.

Phoenix returned my expression. "I should be asking you that. Whatever business you had to do must've been rough if it made that on your face." He reached out and poked my forehead. "Was it a good fight?"

I winched at the sudden sting. I combed over my forehead to keep anyone from noticing. Phoenix wasn't most people. He'd spot a liar three miles away before they could walk up to him and utter the first word.

And because he can't hold water, I wasn't surprised when Hassleberry yanked my head back and pushed away my hair to inspect the damage.

"Damn Muto! Who whooped your ass this time?"

I swatted his hand away. "Shut up, no one whooped my ass, alright? Phoenix just likes to jump to conclusions."

"Is that right?"

"Sure is, now leave it alone. Just mind yours, OK? I'm not always asking why your dick's—"

"Yeah, next topic!"

That's what I thought. The two loved swimming in my pool, but as soon as it was time to jump in theirs, it's time to shut down. Neither asked me anything else about my cuts and the couple of bruises they noticed behind my neck when my shirt pulled. If only they knew what's hidden beneath my shirt. My upper torso looked like one of Yugi's old coloring books.

"You guys hear that?" Phoenix asked.

I stopped and listened.

"I don't hear anything," said Hassleberry.

I shushed him and waited for the noise to return. Music? It sounded like it was coming from the field. I started walking ahead. Yugi and Tristan were rounding the corner into the school parking lot. Seconds later the two came sprinting back around like they seen a rabid dog.

He slammed into my legs and Tristan came squeezing between Hassleberry and Phoenix, brown eyes pissed and confused.

"What's wrong with ya'll?" Hassleberry asked, looking between the two.

"We can't use the field," Tristan grumbled.

"Why not?"

Yugi sighed and hugged my waist. "There's a bunch of Blue Bloods over there, Heba. They're all over the field and in the dugout."

"Ah, shit." Hassleberry rubbed his hand over his dreadlocks. He looked at Phoenix and me, shrugging his shoulders. "So, what's the plan, bro?"

Phoenix huffed. "What do you mean, what's the plan? We're privileged players of Domino High! We come here every Sunday to practice. Why should we stray from our routine just because a bunch of thugs?"

"Those bunch of thugs are strapped with more nines then DPD that's why. And I don't know about you, but I kind of like my face the way it is."

Any other time I would back Hassleberry up when it came to the gangs. Not this time. Phoenix is right. Why should we go out of our way to satisfy some fools who wouldn't think twice to do the same for us? Fuck that.

"I'm going," I told them. I pulled Yugi away and passed him to Hassleberry. "Take the boys to the City Park. We'll be there in a sec."

"While you do what?"

I looked at Phoenix. He looked at me. We nodded. "We're gonna check out the field. Maybe see why the blues are hanging around."

Hassleberry hugged to the boys to his side. "You sure? Better yet, lemme go with you instead of Phoenix."

"Excuse me? Why?" Phoenix snapped, insulted.

"Let's be honest, sweetheart. You couldn't scare a tick off a dog. At least with me Muto's got a chance of walking off with half his bones." And with that said, Hassleberry shoved the boys into Phoenix's hands and pushed them towards the other direction. "We'll catch up."

We left before Phoenix could subject. Knowing Hassleberry had my back gave me an extra boost of courage. He was one of the boys constantly being harassed to join the gangs too, but he didn't play the fiddle for them when asked. Shadi had a weakness and Hassleberry was it. Everyone knew Shadi had it out for Hassleberry after that one time he rearranged Shadi's face. The rest of the gangs saw Hassleberry as a perfect soldier, despite nearly killing one of their own.

We rounded the corner, pulling out baseball bats just in case any of these fools decided to jump stupid. The side path leading to the dirt field had three cars parked, a royal blue 2004 Honda, a dark blue 2005 Toyota Tundra and navy blue 1999 Cadillac Deville, all stacked on custom chrome rims. Their trunks were flipped open, showing off some impressive bass systems.

T.I.'s What You Know blew our ears out as we bypassed the cars. Some creepers spotted us, lingering inside the cars, windows down and wisps of weed floating out. One of the boys bobbed his head at us. I returned the gesture. Hassleberry cut his eyes at them all. We had to keep our guards up no matter what.

The chained fence had half a dozen guys braced on the side and some squatted in the grassy part next to the dirt. A bunch were in the dugout smoking like chimneys shoots. None of this made sense. No one looked like they were up to devilment. So what the hell were they doing around here?

Hassleberry bumped my shoulder. I looked at him and he jerked his chin towards the field. Someone came stepping to the home plate. The object of his attention became my own . . . — yet as I gazed at the reason behind the crowd's attention, he solely became the reason to pay close, very close attention.

A bolt of déjà vu slammed into me the moment of the bill of his Chicago Bull's hat lifted. I recognized those sunset red eyes in a flash, but the rest of him . . . changed. I quietly licked my lips assessing all that that kid from long ago turned into.

He stood about 5'8 easy, about two inches shy of my height. Jesus, his legs went on for days, clad in some black saggy sweatpants with the Domino High logo printed along the left thigh. A sleeveless yellow and navy blue Sting Band shirt hugged his upper torso as if it were made just for him. I could take up every second of every minute just standing here looking at him. He intrigued me that much. Especially those intense red eyes. No one, once you looked deep enough into them, could forget such an unforgettable shade. They left you feel intense.

And excited. He was some kind of fine. I didn't realize I was humming until Hassleberry popped the back of my head.

"What?!" I snapped.

"I wouldn't bother," he grunted, folding his arms. "Yami's fine, but he ain't worth the trouble."

Yami? That's his name? "Why? Does he go here?"

"Yeah, now he does. I think coach is thinking about adding him to the team."

That caught my attention for real. I don't remember ever seeing Yami around the school. I looked over again to see Yami tapping the metal bat against the heel of his cleats, practiced a couple of slow swings before getting into position. The guy at the pitcher's mound didn't even look like someone who'd played baseball. The baggy clothes, cut up face, nah, none of him screamed baseball. He was just some low life—

Nevermind.

He threw that ball at top speed. I clocked it at about 93, maybe 94 mph. No way Yami'll hit that.

Yami drew back and swung.

"Holy shit!" Hassleberry stole the words right from my mouth.

The ball didn't have a chance, sailing way into outer space. I held my hand over my eyes to watch the ball as long as it lasted in the air . . . it didn't come down. It was long, long, long gone. If that wasn't impressive enough, Yami was tearing around the bases with a vengeance, first, second and third. By the time he reached home, the whole band of thugs started cheering, shouting and whooping a fit.

Yami stayed cool about it. He didn't jump around with them, didn't smile or encourage the praise. After a hit like that he had every right to hold his dick and swag. But he didn't. It threw me for a loop to see somebody besides myself being able to knock out a ball on the first try and not give three shits about it.

That kind of attitude spiced up my little man downstairs. Now, that's the kind of person I wouldn't mind introducing myself too.

Hassleberry groaned beside, tearing me away from my personal porn.

"You're some kind of freak, ya know that?" Hassleberry grinned, fighting back a laugh. "I can't believe you're about to jerk off to this dude."

Oh yes, yes I was. Really, shame on me for losing my composure, but damn if Yami wasn't the kind of guy I'd love to hook up with. I hadn't been attracted to anybody since my ex-girlfriend and that was months ago. I'm ready to move on and taste some new flavors.

"You sure he goes here?"

"Yeah, since last year."

"Why haven't I seen him around then?"

"He's one of them," Hassleberry stated flatly, waving his hand at the blue boys. "When do they ever have to check in? He's in our class block. Every time you're absence, he's there. Kind of weird. But like I told you, you might wanna stay away from him."

"Why?"

Hassleberry grabbed my head and turned it towards the opposite of the field. "That's why."

I looked on, watching Yami strolling over to one of the teenager grunts from around here. Shadi was there, standing next to a group of Blues I recognized on the spot. Seth, Ishizu, Mahado, Isis, Mai, Raphael, but Yami went to none of them. He went through them all to someone stationed in the middle.

I'd never seen him before. Lord knows if I had, I would've remembered. He had the Egyptian dark skin and the exotic features to fit a high-class Blue Blood's profile. Most of the dark skinned ones were born into the life. He was wearing a pair of Urban Legend black jeans, a Jimmy Hendrix gold and blue mid-sleeve shirt and black Air Forces. He was about my height, lithe with a slightly thicker build then Yami. When he smiled at Yami, it felt as though he'd shot that same smile at me. The intense glare from his eyes, deep as boiled wine, went right through Yami and into me.

A shiver raced through me against my will.

Yami approached, standing still, not moving. It was the other guy who made the first move. He reached out, wrapping his arm around Yami's neck and pulled him in for a long, nasty, wet kiss. You could hear the slurping from over here and deep moans over the crowds.

I should've turned away the minute I laid eyes on them, but try as I might I couldn't stop. They were going at it, stealing fast kisses and touching in ways that should've been saved for private. Yami pushed the new guy's sleeves up his arms.

I saw the markings, the tattoos, the legacy drawn up to his shoulders. Yami fingered over every one, tracing the lines and curves and stories. Then that guy was looking up at me. That sick smile spread across his face he casually licked a finger and smeared it over his mouth. My dick turned to concrete. He said something to Seth, the tallest of the whole crew and all of them were looking at me at once.

Seth bobbed his head at me and blew an air kiss.

My heart stopped and all at once I felt disgusted. The one with Yami, he's the one who did it then. I spun on my heel to leave. I couldn't believe this shit. The audacity of this motherfucker. He's the reason Shadi's been on my ass all this time.

I knew that son of a bitch all right. The new Blue Eyes Leader.

I never thought I'd ever take advice from Hassleberry, but there's a first time for everything. I'd better listen and steer clear. Messing around with Yami and that twisted O.G. was bound to get me killed. . .