Author's Note: Please forgive mistakes. Enjoy!

~Side Note: Corrections Made~

Special Offerings

The presence of Domino City's Police forces had the streets unusually tamed. Patrol vehicles crept through the allies, tight corners and neighborhoods, searching for anyone that resembled one of the hooligans responsible for the street brawl a few hours ago. Word traveled fast that Duty Chief Truesdale had his men nitpicking at any civilian that fit the typical gang-banger description. He wasn't messing around. Young men were pulled aside and searched without probable cause. Any teenage girl spotted carrying a large purse or handbag, sporting their gang family colors and tattoos, were thoroughly investigated.

If found to have anything relating to illegal activity, they were apprehended and taken downtown for further interrogation. The evidence could be as little as an unmarked prescription bottle, a dime bag or balled up college paper; it didn't matter to them. The cops were, in the eyes of the fearful citizens, simply trying to restore order to the still shaken portion of Domino City. However, the rebellious youths of Domino considered the officer's power force to be above what was necessary to handle a handful of the gang members.

Because of the number of rounds being dangerously close to the double digits, the Red Eyes and Blue Eyes played it smart by laying low until the heat wore off radar. Now, it wasn't out of apprehension of being thrown in the slammer for a long period of time. Majority of the gang members have spent days, weeks, months and even years behind bars. It's just that they weren't planning to go back anytime soon and regardless of the beef that went down, there was money to be made and they couldn't handle business as well in Metro.

Also, there was this tiny little bit of bribery going on within the police forces, involving certain men and women pledging their legions to either Yami or Atem. They were busily seeking out their leader's enemies and making quiet trips to the docks to finish up where their comrades left off. The roadways and rural areas would be naked of red and blue for a while. None of them wanted any problems with the law enforcement—friend or foe—because mostly, there would be one bitch-bastard that wanted a raise, who didn't mind shooting first and asking questions later.

Joey wasn't planning on given these dickheads the benefit of cracking his head with a nightstick. He'd found refuge in a rundown warehouse as close to Medium grounds as he could stomach being near. The police rarely made their marks in this sector out of respect for the Medium gangs having control of their own turf. It'd been three, maybe four hours since the affray down on Eastbound and shit, his adrenaline was still surging like a torpedo in his veins.

He had to have laid out three blue bloods. That alone was enough to a put a smile on his pale, dried lips as he clutched at his thigh, wrapped in layers and layers of his ripped t-shirt. A dark, cerise stain blended in with his True Religion grey and black belted jeans. Marik had got him. That fake ass, dumb ass, sissy ass bastard caught the front of J.R.'s leg when he'd stopped to reload his gun. It was flesh wound, nothing too life threatening, but damn if this shit didn't hurt.

Going to the hospital was out of the question. One of the clinic nurses he called, warning that that tight-ass Truesdale had every hospital and small time clinic on lock for anyone coming in with a gunshot within a ten hour time span. Being one of the senior leaders automatically put J.R. on the Public Enemy list of suspects. He had no choice but steadfast until he could think of something. Contacting his family was out. Seto went on the D.L. as soon as they booked it out of there. Akefia had went straight home to hide in his and Ryou's house until the shit died down. And Yami, well, he was too wrapped up with bailing his members out of prison and restoring order.

It was best that everyone stayed separated. Without being in a huge cluster fuck, there wouldn't be a lot of attention drawn to them. Joey was on his own for a while; at least until he could figure out his next plan of action. Which was hopefully going to be soon because the humidly of the early morning was sticking to his armpits and causing a nasty sweat-slim to film on his skin. There was no air circulation in this building, save for the third story windows and one wide window panel, filtering in sunlight through the glass. The interior was a dust fair, full of snapped plaid wood, abandoned car parts, and left over trash from God knows what.

Beep! Beep!

And there went his cell phone. "Shit," J.R. sourly hissed. God was having fun with him today. Joey released some of the pressure he'd had cupped over his thigh and scowled slightly at the crusty chips of red on his palm. The blood was drying up. Good. Only problem was, being stuck in here was likely to get him an infection. And to add more salt to injury, he was stuck here because the cops glued to the streets. Joey had a better chance of finding cover with one of the runners who lived nearby.

J.R. swore with every fiber of his being to get Marik's sissy fucking ass just as soon as he got better. Just thinking about that blond haired maniac pissed Joey off. He withheld the tight gasp pushing up his throat. Staying in this spot so long made his legs go numb and all squirmy, like a pile of ants were speeding beneath his skin.

"Let's see here," J.R. shifted until his back was balanced on the wall and angled his head up to peek out the mildew fogged window. The last time he'd checked, there'd been two marked officers cruising the road. J.R. timed their rotations to figure out that they were doing a one mile stroll around this general area—there were so many cops, there was barely enough room to spread them out. That gave him ten minutes max to get up and go.

That was simple enough. Hell, he'd tried it. It's just his stupid leg kept giving out before. If the blood was dried, it probably meant it was clotted up. But J.R. wasn't going to be foolish enough to check. He'd been shot before, but he still wouldn't consider himself a health expert.

OK, OK, OK. The last car just went by. If he could just manage to get up—"Fuck!" No good. His leg, which was nothing more than a pitiful graze in his eyes, was holding him back. But he had to run. Being cooped up in this joint was driving him to thinking. And him thinking lead to emotions he couldn't deal with right now.

"Come on, come on, shit, almost, come on. There." Joey worked with all his strength, determination and grit to push himself in an upward squat, awkwardly sticking his sore leg out. He shimmied his shoulders against the plastered wall until he was up to a standing point. Here, he cocked his leg up, and used the wall as his brace.

He'd already wasted a good four minutes contemplating. J.R. carefully limped toward the cracked entrance and stuck his head out to see. He tugged the grey fitted he had on his head down and with efforts that rivaled a bull charging straight into a steel wall, J.R. started trucking down the sidewalk. This was going to have to be done bit by bit. The further he ventured into Red Eye territory he got, the more cops, but at the same time, he had the advantage of being found by one of his family members and hidden some place safe.

He congratulated himself on managing to walk or hell hobble five blocks before taking a rest between the gap of a stash house and a convenient store. Perching up on top of one of the trash cans, Joey cradled his tender thigh between his fingers and pressed down around the gash to ease the stinging.

"Joseph?"

'Jesus, Mary and Joseph, this guy knew how to pick a time and place.' Now, if J.R. could do something about this fruity blush rising on his cheeks, maybe he wouldn't feel extra put off. The blond concentrated some effort into forcing a cocky smirk at the teenage brunet looking at him like he'd just seen a two headed unicorn.

"Hey, what's up Tristan?" J.R. asked keeping his voice even and hopefully the wince from his body language.

Tristan, who was dressed in a brown sleeveless vest, a yellow V-neck t-shirt and baggy smoke grey Levi jeans with white Converse shoes, shifted a brown grocery bag from one side of his arm to the other. He used his free hand to scratch his head curiously.

"Not much man, but what'cha doin' out here?"

Joey had gone silent for a span of thirty seconds. His mind was a muddy ozone full of uncharted warmth making itself known. That same warmth nestled itself in Joey's stomach like microwaved hot chocolate, making him swallow the gathering of moisture. God was going through a horny stage when he made Tristan. Nobody had any business, looking that good in jeans. That shirt was flirting with his pectorals and if Joey stared hard enough, he could see Tristan's round nipples pushing at his shirt.

"Shit, what happened to you?"

Joey noticed Tristan going straight for his leg.

"Your leg's screwed. Why haven't you seen a doctor?"

"It's no biggie. I just got into a pinch on East. S'cool."

"You call this cool?" Tristan pointed with dramatic emphasis at the wide red path painted on Joey's pants leg. "You can save a dozen people with all this blood. You need a doctor."

"I said its fine. Don't worry 'bout it." Joey waved off dismissively. "A couple pieces of ice, an Advil, and I'll be back rollin'. Trust me, I've had way worse than this." A thought hit him and suddenly a grin that could make the Grinch blush spread across Joey's face. "Why all the motherin' eh? You shouldn't care what happens to a gang banger, right?"

Tristan's face looked twice as interesting when it was three different kinds of red. "My bad about that before."

Another wave off. "I'm just messin' with'cha. It's funny to see ya blush. S'cute." He winked.

Tristan rolled his eyes, but it didn't hold the irritated annoyance like it once did. "Well, if you're able to flirt, guess you're fine." The brunet straightened up from when he'd been examining Joey's leg. Tristan placed his fist on his hip, cocking up an eyebrow. "So, doctor or no?"

"No."

The brunet sighed. "You're an idiot—"

"Excuse me?"

"I said you're an idiot," Tristan repeated harder. "You're being stubborn. Why won't you go get this checked out?"

"Why do you care?"

"Because I'd like to go home knowing I talked a blond thug out of bleeding to death." Tristan traded his bag to the other arm. "Or at least, I'd like to know I helped him the best I could."

"Awww, that's so sweet." Joey poked out his bottom lip, eyes glossy like a plastic doll. "I didn't know ya cared."

Tristan didn't smile at that.

Joey noticed and sighed, bunching his lips to the side of his mouth and turning his profile to the brunet. "Look," he started slowly, losing the tensing tone, "it ain't like I'm sitting here waitin' to die. That shit on East's got the police molestin' the streets. They're rounding up red bloods and blue bloods left and right. They even have the hospitals secured. I go out there, I'm gonna get arrested."

"Oh." That made sense then. Tristan glanced over his shoulder. That would explain why on his way here he'd seen so many police cars roaming the city. He'd gotten a voicemail from the school earlier saying all schools within the city limits were on lockdown for the next two days due to the order of the Deputy Chief Truesdale. Tristan had called Yugi to see how he was doing, but Grandpa Solomon had answered saying he'd found Yugi sleeping in the shop. How'd he get there, no one knew.

"What are you doin' 'round here anyway?" Joey stiffened from the sudden throb of his leg as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "This don't look like your type of place and why the hell aren't you in school?"

Tristan shrugged. "It's cancelled until further notice. I was bored. My neighbor can't do her own shopping 'cause of a busted knee." Tristan patted the brown baby bag. "So, I'm doin' it for her."

Well, well, well. Cute, smart, bad attitude and helpful. This kid was just adding more and more attraction to himself.

"Shouldn't you be gettin' that to her then?" asked J.R.

"I would, but." Tristan tapped his chest with a crooked smile. "I got a heart. And mine is sayin' if I leave, I'm not gonna be able to think straight knowin' I left you alone and hurt."

Joey's cockiness sunk with the blush tinting his face, cheek and neck, slanted brown eyes shifting from side to side. This kid was, damn, he was something else. Joey hadn't ever met anyone willing to lead him a hand who wasn't in his family.

"Besides, you're cool. Anyone who helps out my friends, is ok by me."

Joey twisted his head around, eyes narrowed. "Helped who? I don't go 'round dishin' charity kid. Ya better watch it, there."

"Whatever." Tristan chuckled. "My friend Tea? You gave her a job. Mr. Jason is a friend of my moms and you made sure he wasn't left out on the streets. And Yugi told me you were the one to take him to the hospital when he got jumped."

"So what if I did?" Joey met those butterscotch brown eyes. "That doesn't mean I'm soft!"

"Nah, I'm not sayin' you're soft. You just got morals and I respect people like that."

Joey really wished his face wasn't so hot. He hadn't blushed this much since kindergarten and it was pissing him off. How can someone have this intense effect on you? It was poison. Side effects included a fucked up mind, a fucked up stomach, and flushed skin. Joey did not like these sensations at all. It was as if he contracted a disease he didn't mind suffering from.

"Anyway, we need to get you somewhere before you turn into a Dexter case."

Joey perked up like a child discovering fireworks. "You watch Dexter?"

"Man, who doesn't? I love his show. Just a sec," Tristan walked over and offered his shoulder. "Grab on."

Joey made a face. He looked up and saw Tristan's boyish grin softly urging him on. Joey couldn't deny him. The teen was giving him a chance to keep some of his dignity by grabbing onto his shoulder instead of wrapping his whole arm around him like he was a broken victim. Joey slid off the trash top, landed with a wobbly jolt on his feet and cupped his palm on Tristan's shoulder. Together, they walked out of the alley way, double checking for cops and started down the opposite direction of where Joey had been going. He didn't mind though because this close, right here, next to Tristan he was able to leech off the brunet's warm. He smelled nice too. Like Irish Spring and butter popcorn. Joey's hand absently squeezed the ball of Tristan's shoulder. The muscles there were solid as a rock.

"So what's your favorite episode?"

Joey blinked stupidly. "Huh?"

"Just makin' conversation. Your favorite episode? Dexter? What is it?"

"Oh, oh, oh umm, that one where he was pretending to be hurt to catch those paramedics."

"Word? That's one called Those Kind of Things. All kinds of drama went down on that one."

"How'd ya know?"

"Dude, I have six seasons of Dexter at home. I worship this guy. Just not as much as the Sopranos. I started watching that a while back."

Hope blossomed inside Joey's chest. That fluttery feeling was brushed aside and ignored for another time. He was comfortable talking like this with this kid. Different topics blended into the conversation during the limping trip. Favorite foods was somehow brought up. Joey learned Tristan had a stomach that rival his own. They both liked cars, but Tristan's passion leaned more towards motorcycles. Once he got started on that subject, his mouth ran like a ruptured dam. He went on and on about the accessories he could fix up on his bike, what he wouldn't mind seeing more of on other motorcycles, his favorite color and how he managed to snag his own motorcycle despite his mother's protests.

"Sorry," he suddenly apologized. "I'm rambling."

"No, no, no." Joey's shaggy blond hair swished back and forth. "S'cool. S'cool. I like hearin' ya talk." He really did. The way Tristan's tone would change when he talked about motorcycles, it was as if he'd been transported to a different universe. His passion for them was incredible and contagiously appealing. Shit, it made Joey consider getting one of his own.

"J.R.?"

Fuck. Joey grimaced from his achy thigh and because he recognized that voice. He peered over the line of his shoulder to see one of the runners and a couple of others, dressed down in grey, white and black to conceal their allegiance. Only those within the red bloods would recognize faces on the spot.

"Ya good?" One of them asked, eyeballing Tristan cautiously when he noticed the red stain on his leader's leg.

Joey didn't like that look. He narrowed his gaze at that kid particularly until he withered on the sidewalk. "Chill." He adjusted himself, bending his knee to ease some of the pressure. "He's with me. Make sure everyone else knows that."

"Yes sir," the middle young man said. "O.L.G. has us scouting around the place for leftovers. Said she wants roll call down by midnight to see who we're missing."

Of course Mai's running around throwing orders. Joey sighed. Looks like this was the end of his fun time.

"Wait, you'll be ok?" Tristan shifted closer. "You trust these guys?" He winched and blushed and realized how much he'd enjoyed Joey's company. It was like ruining a good show because you had to go to work. The guy was alright to be around.

"I'll be fine," Joey confirmed with a stern expression. "Ya need to go home anyway." Unwillingly, he let his hand fall away. The warmth was gone the moment it dropped to Joey's side. Had it always felt this cold? He vaguely wondered.

"You sure you'll be safe?"

Joey's lips tilted on the sides. "I promise. For real, don't worry. Just to prove it to ya, how's about we meet at Insanity on Friday? Eight o'clock good? My treat."

Tristan's fist popped on his hip and he threw a saucy grin. "You'll regret that. I told ya I eat enough to feed an army."

"That's good, 'cause I can eat enough to leave a country starved." He winked and turned on his heel to limp over to his comrades while he was still talking sense. Looking at Tristan's kind smile was making Joey's stomach quiver and make him go soft in the eyes.

"Cool, I'll see ya then!" Tristan called out.

"Ya better," Joey tossed back. "Alright boys, let's go before Mai starts her period." The trio of runners immediately rushed to his aid and helped their leader down the sidewalk.

Tristan remained rooted in place, watching the blond haired senior leader grow smaller and smaller. Inside, a piece of the brunet was already missing the weight pressed on his arm and Joseph's rough voice. A smile pinched the dimples in his cheeks when Joey glanced over his shoulder and threw a deuce sigh before turning around the corner. The blond wasn't a bad guy at all. Tristan was actually looking forward to seeing him again.

Yugi lounged on the beanbag at the edge of his bed, allowing himself to stay as remotely silent as possible. He didn't feel like talking aloud or reading or anything. Silence was something he was striving for after all the chaotic scenes from before. The action seemed like a distant memory that refused to be forgotten. The hum of Chaka Khan's, Through the Fire, soothed his adrenaline-high. The harmonic piano notes whined in the background, joined by the occasion tip tap of snare drums and if he listened closely, the shrill swish of bell chimes added to the rhythm.

School was called out for the time being, thank goodness. Yugi wasn't sure he would've been able to attend, what with his head feeling like the inside of a struck gong. He'd changed out of his dirty clothes, showered and returned to sit about in a white, grey and black flannel pajama pants and a red wife beater.

Heba's hoodie was folded on Yugi's stomach where his braided fingers rested on top, while his round purple eyes stared at the ceiling. So much had happened in the span of nearly eight hours. It was nearing the late afternoon now. Yugi left his room twice since Yami dropped him off; to make sure his grandfather was still sleeping and to use the bathroom. Otherwise, Yugi just kept himself secluded.

His bedroom door was locked. Nothing against his grandfather, but the older man had a weird knack for sensing Yugi's turmoil and making the youth spill his guts. Yugi didn't feel like talking. His grandfather would understand.

Yugi needed the quiet to meditate Atem and Yami's argument and how willing they'd been to protect him. Their words continued to plague the teen's mind.

"I never betrayed you," Atem raged back, eyes paper slit thin and teeth grinding. "Not once. I was always there. I was the one who helped you through your troubles. I held you when you thought you had nothing else to live for—"

"—for your own selfish gain, and your father's, Atem. All of you thought of me as nothing more than a damn dog to tame," Yami yelled, stopping the car and getting right in his rival's face. "Did you think about how I felt those times I was forced into doing those horrendous acts? How the hell could you possibly classify that as help? Only one person really cared for me without asking for anything in return—"

"—and where is he now? Six feet under! He, the one you still so helplessly cling to like some deprived pup, was the one who turned traitor, yet I suffered for his mistakes! So help me, if that bastard were alive now, I'd put him flat on his back!"

"Was he the only one to turn traitor?"

"—I didn't do anything besides reveal him for what he was. When the truth revealed itself, even then I gave him the benefit of the doubt and what happened? He turns it on both of us and high tails it out. You should have trusted me, Yami! I would've never hurt you the way he had—"

"I was scared too!"

It was like. . . Heba was this middle man wielded neck-deep in this drama. Whatever he did must've created a rift in Atem and Yami's relationship. Yugi sat up, folding his legs on top, eyes trained on the floor. As far as he'd assumed, Atem and Yami had always been enemies. Red Eyes and Blue Eyes were sworn enemies until the end of time. The two didn't mix. So if they had an affair, had it been an undercover romance? Had Heba interfered? If so, how and why? Heba wasn't the type of person to purposely create drama. He'd been the brooding, quiet person who always watched from afar. He couldn't have been all bad. Yami and Atem said it themselves.

"No, not always."

"In the beginning no. Heba was . . ."

Atem hadn't finished what he'd been about to say. This didn't make sense. Why hesitate? Had he been in love with Heba too? Was it a struggle between the three? No, no, that's stupid. Heba wouldn't. . . well. . . but then again—Yugi's expression dampened—from all he's learned so far, did Yugi really know Heba as much as he thought?

Yugi relaxed against his beanbag again, closing his eyes. His big brother was such a problem. If he wasn't ruining Yugi's image as a baseball player, he was fucking the lives of others off field, which in turn, domino'ed all the way down to Yugi. Why on earth would Heba get himself involved with the most notorious gangs in the entire city? He had nothing to gain and more to lose. Didn't he think about the consequences?

No, of course not. Because he would act first and question later, the fool. Yugi sighed and rolled to his side. He was wrong. Staying in here was only making him think too much. He needed to get out. The teen stood and went to his drawers to find some clothes. A pair of black Levi Jeans and a grey Nike muscle shirt was pulled out and put on with a pair of his grey and white mid-top Air Force Ones. He put a comb through his hairs, forcing the spiked tips down into a spiked bob and shook his bangs off his face.

A walk to the Galilee's café sounded like a good idea.

Yugi passed his grandfather coming down the stairs. "I'll be back."

"Where are you off too?" asked Solomon.

"I'm heading to Galilee's. You want me to bring you something back?"

Solomon's beamed. "Oh, one of those cakes with the cream inside."

"A Cream Bonnet?" Yugi corrected, chuckling. "How many?"

"Three."

"'Kay, three it is." Yugi stepped down a few stairs, then slapped his forehead. "Oh gosh, Grandpa, sorry. I didn't ask if you'd need help with the shop first."

"No, no. Business is kinda slow. You go on and be careful with your arm."

Well if he insisted. Yugi went downstairs to the little safe kept behind a glass case and withdrew forty dollars. He'll order a BLT sandwich and a pitcher of Lemonade too. His grandfather had a fondness for the stuff. He locked up and left the store for the dirt road leading out into the Red Eye Territory, which he strangely noticed was absolutely vacant of its usual occupants. There wasn't a single runner in sight and regardless of the beefed up security, there should've been a sprinkle of the men around.

Yugi guessed the Duty Chief wasn't messing around this time. That was fine. Yugi didn't feel like mean-mugging anyone today. The paint infested buildings seemed ominous, cracked windows jagged and edgy like any minute a ghostly figure would peek from around a corner. Yugi shoved his hands in his pockets, kicking a can along the way to Galilee's. It was so weird. There wasn't a car out here. The Red Eyes took every shred of their existence and just vanished.

He snorted. Guess they weren't as invisible as they self-proclaimed.

Yugi spotted the lime green rooftop up ahead with Galilee etched in cursive on the canopy. The parking lot had only three cars; a 2004 Kia, a 2012 Nissan Altima and a 2011 Honda Civic. That was weird. With school being on lockdown the place should've been crawling with high school students. Kenny G's familiar light hearted melodies were caressing the entrance when Yugi walked inside. He saw one of the waitress's collecting someone's order and an elderly man watching tennis on the twenty inch television.

Yugi froze like a deer before a hunter when he saw the profile of someone he'd hope he'd seen the last of. Considering all that's happened, Yami didn't look as worn down and beaten as someone would after a gunfight. His face, chiseled in its usual handsome scowl, was staring out the window. He'd changed into a bright red and black rimmed windbreaker suit. His hair was flared up like he'd taken a blow dryer directly to it to create this volcanic outburst. His red eyes were calm and intensely focused.

Yugi wondered what held his attention or what it was he saw that no one else did.

One of the young waiter's from the back came forth with a tray holding a bowl of French Onion Soup, a tall glass of sweet tea, and a plate of the Café's Special Salad.

"Here you go, Yami," the brunet young man voiced a little too cheerfully in Yugi's opinion. The guy was about his height, maybe an inch taller with mustard brown hair on top and the rest showering around his crown like a chocolate waterfall. His hazel eyes didn't reflect a tiny speck of fear in them the way everyone else would when they approached Yami.

Who was he and how was he so familiar with the red blood leader? Yugi wondered.

"Extra caramel onions, no chives, and light sweet tea." The waiter placed the plates before his customer, all smiles, all charm. "I gotta go back to get you fresh rolls. They just put a new batch in, if you're willing to wait."

Yami turned around to meet the youth's eyes. "That's fine."

The waiter giggled. "You don't seem moody today." He made himself comfortable on the other side, resting his chin in his palm. "Why's that?"

Yami ripped off the paper from his straw and stuck it in his glass. The dressing was drizzled over his salad and pepper was sprinkled in his soup.

"No reason," he answered after his meal was properly prepared. "What about you? You're doing well in school." He stated more than asked.

The waiter winked. "Duh, of course. But Zane's been a real pain about my grades lately. I brought home a B the other day and he said if I had time to gloom about Yusei, I had enough time to study harder."

"You two still together?"

"Well . . ."

Yugi heard the waiter hesitate. His curiosity was steadily getting the better of him. Before Yugi knew it his ears and eyes were zeroed in on every word spoken between waiter and customer.

The waiter sighed, lightly drumming his fingers on the table top. "I'm not sure he's worth staying with anymore. I barely see him and the time we do spend together is always short. I know he was involved with that fight on Eastbound. He doesn't answer my phone calls and when he does, it's to say he's ok and not worry." The waiter's hazel eyes glossed like wet sand. "But I do worry. I can't help it. Every time I look at the news and hear about a blue or red eyes being gunned down, I think he's caught in the crossfire or in jail. Zane keeps telling me to move on but . . . he's never been in love before. It hurts."

Yugi waited for Yami's reaction.

It was a curt, slow nod; the only gesture he gave to indicate he was listening. He started eating his food in neat, precise bites, eyes often looking back up to stare right at the waiter's face while he continued on.

"I've been thinking about calling it quits with Yusei. Him and this whole gang thing just isn't working for us. He keeps saying he's doing it for the money but I know there's no way he'll be able to get out of there scott free. There's always a price to pay." The waiter wiped at his wet eyes.

Yami finished off a cherry tomato and dapped at his chin. "Isn't there another boy who comes in here to visit you?"

The waiter's face transformed into a raspberry. "Um, well," he chuckled awkwardly. "Well, Jessie's just a friend."

"Who visits whenever you're on shift, brings gifts and takes you out to lunch."

The waiter gasped. "How did—never mind." He waved off, momentarily forgetting that this was the Red Eyes Leader he was talking too.

"Jaden."

Said waiter straightened at the low tenor way Yami called his name. Both his red eyes were fierce and chilled, like frozen blood suspended in mid sunlight.

"You're being foolish," Yami calmly said. "No amount of waiting will change whatever lies Yusei's told you. There's only one way out of a gang. That goes for my side and the blue bloods. You'll be better off finishing up school and thinking about a future with someone who's got dreams that don't involve looking over his shoulder every three seconds, running from the law and endangering the lives of his loved ones."

Jaden slinked back into the rubbery cushion, eyes straying to the tabletop. His shoulders slumped like the weight of the world just glued itself there. Yugi immediately felt sorry for him.

"You deserve better. Don't continue this relationship. You'll be the only one hurting in the end." Yami scooped up a mouthful of soup and sipped. He hummed from the salty flavors heated on his tongue and lowered his spoon for another helping.

"I wish. . . I just really want this to work. I love him."

"Perhaps more than he cares for you."

Jaden deflated more and bowed his head.

"There's a time to think this over and it isn't here. Leave me to my meal."

"Alright." Jaden grimly nodded and stood. "Did you need anything else?"

Yami nodded. "Tell that young man to come over here."

Yugi flinched like he'd been slapped. Jaden's gaze immediately locked with his and the he stared like he'd spotted a pig take flight.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Jaden rushed over to get a menu and a wrapped up pack of utensils. He faced Yugi with a forced smile. "My name's Jaden Yuki, I'll be your waiter. Would you step this way, please?"

Yugi stood where he was, mouth jarred. He stared at the back of Yami's head. His chin nearly touched his chest. There was a very brief instant when Yami glared over his shoulder and turned back to his meal. Yugi shook his head. He smiled kindly at the waiter named Jaden.

"Sorry, I'm ready."

Jaden tilted his head, puzzled. He bowed and swipe his hand out for Yugi to go ahead. The baseball player took the lead and sat vertically from Yami. Yugi was given his menu, he ordered his drink and requested a few minutes to decide on what he'd order. Jaden left the two to themselves while he went to the kitchen to check on the bread.

Yami stared at Yugi. Yugi blinked at Yami. He folded his arms on the table, head cocked to the side and purple eyes narrowed.

"So . . . you're just a regular counselor aren't you? Listening to everyone's problems and offering advice."

"If that's what you want to call it," Yami murmured. "You would know, wouldn't you?"

"Whatever. You wanted to talk to me?"

"I did."

"Why?" Yugi questioned right away.

"Because." Yami wrapped his lips around his straw and sucked in a mouthful of tea before continuing. "I wanted to see how you were doing," he coolly said.

Yugi leaned away. "Why?"

"Do I need a reason?"

"Yes, don't you always?"

"It's simple concern. You've been through a lot."

"So have you," Yugi countered. "You don't look too shaken up. I guess that's to be expected from someone like you. Which is why I wanna know why you care how I'm feeling."

Yami straightened up and studied Yugi closely. The right side of his lips lifted. "I don't have a motive. After all that's happened. . ." the rest he left for Yugi to fill in.

And the teen mentally did. But he went as further back then this morning's gunfight. His memories retreated to the time a bullet pierced his arm. His fingers absently touched where the scar would always remain.

"I owe you for the wrong I've done to you."

"Just one wrong?"

"There is only one."

Yugi stared. "Why?"

Yami chuckled this time. "Is that the only word you can say?"

"No," Yugi said smartly.

Yami lifted his fist under his chin "In any case, I'm not beyond making amends where they're due." Yami lifted his fist under his chin.

"You're apologizing?" Yugi said in disbelief.

"Like hell," Yami grumbled. "I don't apologize when I do things I meant to do. However," he looked at Yugi with a strange expression. "I will right what's wrong. It's why I want to talk to you. You're owed that much."

"You're not making sense," And for that case, why was Yugi wasting his time talking to this man? "Listen, whatever it is you gotta say, it can be left alone. We've been around each other more times than I'm comfortable with."

"You'll hear what I have to say, then you're free to do as you wish."

"I don't have to listen to anything."

"Yeah, you do," Yami's voice hardened a smidge. "After I tell you about my relationship with your brother . . . then you can decide whether it's worth listening to. . ."

TBC: I apologize for the lack of flare in this chapter. In order to keep to my schedule, I decided to post this as is. To everyone following this story, I won't be able to update between the dates of July6-19, 2013, due to my military obligations. Yeah, I'm in the army lol. Updates will resume as soon as I come back home. ^_^