Kitsune here with the first chapter of the sequel! The Omake-goodness is being worked on and I think I am going to post that seperatly. Just a quick note, THIS chapter takes place BEFORE the last official chapter of Burning Rubber. About a week before, actually. That's kind of important to know. And...I think that's it. I think I'm going to stop the questions of the chapter for this one, because I've run out of questions. Sorry if you enjoyed them.

When he'd decided to go to City Tech, everyone had laughed. It was no place for a thug, they told him. He'd just embarrass himself; he was too stupid, too cruel to be around normal people… He saw how folks avoided him. He wasn't blind; far from it. He was a punk, born and bred. Didn't mean he wanted to end up like his old man rotting away in some cell because he refused to try and make something of himself. So yeah, he was a bit old to be starting college (turning twenty-three this year)... But after the shit that went down over the summer? He was getting the hell out of Dodge if he could.

Especially since it looked like old man Whitebeard's crew and the Red-hair group were still working under some kind of funky-ass alliance. Others could take a chance, but they hadn't seen members of Blackbeard's gang gunned down in broad daylight while the cops did nothing. Seriously, fuck that shit- he was out. Even it meant he had to deal with these soft weak fools on campus treating him like trash. He'd play by their rules, keep his head down and deal with the jeers and taunts from his old gang until he had his diploma and then… he'd never look back. New York had nothing left for him but a bunch of memories that tasted like ash on his tongue anyway.

"That'll be five hundred thirty two dollars and fifty nine cents." He blinked, focusing his scowl onto the man behind the counter who'd just rung him up.

"You're fucking kidding me."

"No… You're in English Comp One, Physics One, Gen Psych, and Freshman Seminar, right?"

Well, he was in a few other classes too, but those were the ones that had sent out book lists already. "What of it?"

"Then these are the books you'll need." The clerk rested his hand on a stack of maybe seven books. "So, that'll be five hundred thirty two dollars and fifty nine cents."

"For seven fucking books? Are you fucking nuts? Are they made of gold?" he snarled, running a hand through his hair, making the roster-comb even more disheveled than it was.

"Sorry, but unfortunately three are new. Text books, right?" The guy shrugged, ignoring the death glare as he took his card and swiped it.

Snatching the books of the counter he spat, "What a rip!" before shoving his way through the crowded bookstore. Admittedly he wasn't really paying attention to where he was going, he was used to people getting the hell out of his way and even here this fact of his life stayed true. It might have been the piercings, the violently-styled blonde hair, the clothes, or the way he walked that told people that it was in the best interest to be where he wasn't. If he'd been paying attention he might have avoided the group of muscled meat-heads. Everything about them screamed 'money' and 'jocks'; which basically pissed him off so in reality he probably would have shoved through them anyway.

It made the drinks spilled down the front of their shirts his fault either way. Not that he cared. Of course they cared, and they took great exception to the fact that he was the cause. Like a bunch of wanna-be punks they started shoving him around. He could easily wipe the floor with the lot of them- but it would just prove his old gang right wouldn't it? He was a thug...he knew that. But I'm here to be better than that, better than my old man. Another wannabe shoved him hard enough to make him stumble and the cheap backpack he'd brought dropped to the ground. On second thought, it might be smarter to show them who's boss NOW, right? Save me from this kind of stupid shit later.

"You shouldn't have done that…" He grinned maliciously. A few of the smarter guys backed off at the feral look. Most of them didn't.

It looked like he was going to be getting into a fight after all. "Oh yeah, what are you gonna do about it, freak?" And boy was he going to enjoy it.

"FIGHT!" the cry went up. "He's gonna get killed!"

"What's goin' on?"

"Move, kid! It's a fight!" The crowd that had gathered naturally shifted around them as someone pushed their way through it. "Not that way you moron!"

"Shihihi!"

A shout from the back had him snorting as he and the bigger members circled each other. "Somebody call the cops!"

"Call campus security!" another voice suggested instead.

He ignored it all, instead closing with the first guy. The dude had some experience fighting, he was able to block the first blow to his head for the most part but the hit to his gut dropped him like a rock. The second man was sloppy, two headshots in rapid succession easily made it past what he thought was a guard breaking his nose and a kick to the groin took him out. That still left five of the original group, none of whom looked too eager to go around with him, but they didn't look ready to back down yet either. Fine by me… I'll just bring the fight to them, he smirked. He made it all of three steps before some little asshole got in his way. The prick was shorter than he was and gangly. All arms and legs covered in an oversized shirt and shorts, like some kid playing dressup or some shit.

"Move, jerk," he snarled out, pulling himself up short.

The guy barely glanced at him before focusing his attention on the others, standing slightly tilted to keep them all in view. "Five on one isn't very nice."

"What's it to you?"

"Nothing." A half shrug around a backpack. Dark brown eyes met his green ones before sliding over the crowd. "But the cops are gonna care." He knew that face. Everyone in his neighborhood knew this kid… Luffy D. Marshall, 'Errand boy' of the notorious Teach Marshall, leader of the Blackbeard gang. No one in their right mind messed with him, not without Blackbeard's say-so. Something that the rumor mill had it wasn't too hard to get, for the right price. He'd heard all sorts of stories about the shit the brat had been involved in, and he didn't know what to believe. Still, seeing him standing there, staring down those assholes who thought they were so much better just because they grew up in a better part of town, he felt that thrill down his spine. The one that told him he was looking at someone he shouldn't fuck with if he wanted to be walking away from the fight. Judging by the silence that had overtaken the crowd, the lug-heads weren't completely without streetsmarts.

"YO! Lu! Where'd you go?!" The kid, Luffy, took his eyes off the jocks for a split second. It was a rookie mistake that the group was quick to take advantage of. Before he could even call out a warning two of them rushed the dark haired youth. The kid didn't even look, his arm snapped out and caught one of them, yanking him forward quickly as he limberly twisted down and around, causing the much larger male to literally flip over before crashing onto the ground. Still moving Luffy caught the other man from behind delivered a painful blow to the back of his head, sending him sprawling on top of those already downed. And still Luffy barely paid them any attention, craning his neck as he attempted to see over the crowd still gathered around. He could only stare at shock as the kid stood on top of one of the people groaning on the ground for a better look, avoiding another blow to the head by leaning forward slightly, his leg snapping out and hitting his attacker in the shins hard enough to send him stumbling.

Luffy must have seen something, because suddenly he was jumping up and down on top of the man he was using as a stool waving, causing the unfortunate guy to groan. "Over here, Ace! Here!"

"There you are! What the hell, Lu!" A guy probably about the same age he was shoved through the crowd and gave Marshall's boy an annoyed scowl.

"What?"

The man shifted a backpack that was hanging haphazardly from one shoulder, "No fighting, remember?"

"But...Ace! I wasn't fighting! I was…" Luffy's brown eyes looked at him and he swallowed hard under the attention, "helping Rooster!"

Rooster? He questioned, but found himself nodding along anyway at the sight of the teen's bright smile. He was only able to look away when the other man snorted as he walked up to Luffy, casually stepping on hands as he did so. When those gray eyes took him in and dismissed him almost as quickly he didn't feel the normal swelling of rage that would normally have triggered. Instead, he felt relief after placing the name 'Ace' as the older and much more dangerous brother of Luffy. If anyone asked, the pink camo bag threw him off. That's why he didn't fucking recognize 'Fire-fist' right away. Seriously, PINK? Fuck man, don't know if that shit makes him look like a sissy or scary as hell. Ace wrapped an arm around his younger brother, pulling him off his makeshift perch and into his chest. Resting his chin on top of Luffy's head and draping an arm across his shoulder the criminal - and that was most definitely what he was- just narrowed his eyes slightly at the remaining jocks.

"You guys got a problem with my little brother?" Two of them took a step back.

"I thought you said no fighting!" Luffy whined, turning in his brother's arms.

"Oh, it won't be a fight, Lu." The smile Ace gave was downright chilling- that of a murderer, and he should know, his old man was one. "A fight implies effort."

"Oh, ok."

"Listen...uh….it's….this has all….yeah! This has all been just one big misunderstanding." The last four wannabe-bullies were edging away, all babbling over each other in their rush to not be killed. "So, um, we're just going to be going now. Yeah, er bye! Sorry!"

There was silence for a while as they pushed their way through the rapidly dispersing crowd. After a moment Ace snorted, leaning his head against his brother's hair. "That never gets old."

"Shihihihi!"

"No more fights though, Lu." Ace turned his head his head slightly, grey eyes boring into his, "Got that, bud? Next time, you're on your own."

He wanted to point out he'd never asked for help, but that would be belittling what Luffy had done. Not to mention he didn't think he could get the words out, not under that glare. He wanted to thank Luffy at least. Just as he opened his mouth to say something -he wasn't sure what he was going to say- someone laid on a horn. Both brothers jumped, tense for some reason as their eyes darted around. It almost looked like they were afraid or something.

"Sorry about that, yoi!" Someone shouted from the curb, blond hair sticking up in a distinctive hairstyle. Luffy's hand still clutched his brother's shirt in a tight-knuckled grip but the look of panic started to fade. The blond gestured at a car right behind him where a redhead waved sheepishly. "Jerk thought it was the best way to get your attention. We're here to give you two a ride back. Doctor's orders, no more walking. Get in."

Something about the way they both deflated and complied bothered him, but he didn't know why. Still, he was sure he'd be seeing them again. Maybe next time he'd be able to thank Luffy.