PRETTY BOYS
Story by QueenYokozuna

[scenes 6-14]


(6) INT.  APARTMENT LIVING ROOM -- AFTERNOON

Sanosuke strides barefoot down the short hallway out of his room.  He 
cuts across the boundless space that is the living room heading for the 
front door.

		SANO:
		Yeah I know the guy, Katsu.

		KATSU:
		(frowning)
		You said you wouldn't entertain your Uncles at home.

		SANO:
		(suddenly irritated, turning the doorknob)
		Don't be a dumbfuck, this guy's not one of 'em.

Sano yanks open the door, and cracks a mammoth grin at the sight of a 
scowling Saitou in the hallway.

		SANO:
		(pulling the door open wider)
		Hi.  Come in, Detective.

Saitou gives Sano a head-to-toe stare for an extended second, before 
nodding.

Still leering distrustfully, Katsu steps aside.

The tall man takes a step past the door, casually noting the flat's 
sparsely-furnished yet expansive interior.  Genial sunlight is warming 
the living room through the broad row of towering windows.  Two white 
plush sofas sit facing each other in the middle of the room, with a 
long, plain coffee table between them.  To his right is a wide doorway 
that leads to the kitchen.  To his left is a wall that's bare save for 
a flat, monstrous-huge-screen TV hung in the center.

	SANO:
	(almost impatiently)
	So you going now, Katsu?

	KATSU:
	(lips pursed)
	Ah...yeah.

	SANO:
	Okay, see ya later.

	KATSU:
	(whispering, behind Saitou's back)
	Are you gonna be okay?

	SANO:
	(gives Katsu a dismissing pat on the shoulder)
	Bye, pal.

With a sigh of resignation, Katsu finally steps out into the hallway.  
Sano promptly shuts the door on him, then turns to Saitou.  The man has 
already taken off his trench coat.

	SANO:
	Take a seat, man, make yourself comfy.

Wordlessly, Saitou marches over to one of the sofas.  He sits down, 
placing his trench coat on the wide armrest beside him.

Sano heads ambling for the kitchen.

	SANO:
	Anything I can fix ya?

	SAITOU:
	(curtly)
	Don't bother.

	SANO:
	(stopping short)
	You sure?

	SAITOU:
	Aa.

Saitou produces a cigarette pack from inside his unbuttoned suit coat.  
Sano ambles over, plunking himself down on the other sofa.

	SAITOU:
	(fishing out his lighter)
	I suppose you don't mind?
	
He gestures at the lone, ceramic ashtray on the coffee table.  There's 
a couple of crushed cigarette butts in it.

	SANO:
	(shrugs)
	Help yourself.  My roommate stinks this place 
	up all the time, anyways.

	SAITOU:
	(lighting up)
	And /you/ don't smoke?

	SANO:
	(shakes head)
	Never did.  It wasn't really good for my boxing 
	'n all, see.

	SAITOU:
	(curiosity piqued)
	Boxing?

	SANO:
	Yeah.  I was a boxer.

	SAITOU:
	(takes his first drag)
	What, you quit?

	SANO:
	Not really.
	(pause)
	It wasn't that /I quit/.

An eyebrow of Saitou's rises a quarter-inch.

CUT TO:

FLASHBACK


(7) INT.  A SMALL, DINGY AUDITORIUM -- NIGHT

CU of a sweaty Sanosuke, his features painted with austere 
determination.

	SANO:
	(VO)
	I was forced to...

	(OS) Electric CROWD cheering "Zanza!  Zanza!"

Sano, in crimson boxing shorts, black shoes and gloves attire, is 
trading punches with a taller, heftier, and older guy.  The twin strips 
of his headband dance and wave and sway gracefully in the air at every 
strut of his sinewy, agile figure.

The place is jam-packed with 10% men in business suits, and 90% grimy-
looking fellows cheering loudly on.

	SANO:
	(VO)
	I'd been training since ten, but only started 
	fighting at 16.  I was undefeated for two years, 
	my record was 14-zilch, all KOs.

Sano takes another jab at his opponent, and connects with a fast, 
forceful upper cut.  SLOW-MO of the poor guy dropping to the dirty 
canvas.  He lands with a resounding thud.  Knocked out cold.

Crowd whoops it up.

	SANO:
	(VO)
	Heh, I guess you could say, I was pretty much 
	the number one non-pro in town.

The ecstatically grinning Sano raises his gloved fists in triumph.  
Crowd roars "Zanza!  Zanza!" and several of Sano's fans spill onto the 
ring to give him a victory ride.

	SANO:
	(to one of the men lifting him up)
	Hey watch my balls, you dumbfuck!

END FLASHBACK

CUT BACK TO:


(8) INT.  APARTMENT LIVING ROOM -- AFTERNOON

	SAITOU:
	(crossing his legs)
	So what happened?

	SANO:
	(leans his chin on a palm)
	My handler fucked up, he dealt shit with the mob.  
	I was supposed to fight this major fight, you 
	know, and the mob pricks wanted me to go down.  
	Intentionally.

	SAITOU:
	Because they bet on the other guy.

	SANO:
	Yeah.

	SAITOU:
	And you didn't want to go down.

	SANO:
	Hell no.
	(shakes head vigorously)
	Didn't care how much was at stake.  I finished 
	the fight in record time, my 14th KO.

	SAITOU:
	I see.
	(pauses to take a drag)
	How were you forced to quit, then?

Sanosuke's gaze falls to his clenched right fist.

CUT TO:

FLASHBACK -- A LITTLE UNDER A YEAR AGO


(9) INT.  BLIND ALLEY -- NIGHT

Sanosuke, sweaty and panting, is pressed back up against a brick wall.  
There are about six or seven men with him, and three of them are 
pinning his spread-eagled arms to the wall.

We pan along the crooked grins plastered on their faces.  We get an 
earful of a thunderous rumble of sly laughter.

We see that one of the men is brandishing a big, ugly mace.  He swings 
it in the air, ready to make serious damage.

CU of Sano's trembling right hand, clenched into a pale-knuckled fist.

CU of the swinging mace.

CU of Sano's face, the tears in the corners of his eyes glittering like 
diamonds.

The mace takes a swing down.

	SANO:
	(raspy)
	FUCK YOU!!!

END FLASHBACK

CUT BACK TO:


(10) INT.  APARTMENT LIVING ROOM -- AFTERNOON

CU of Sanosuke's trembling right fist.

	SANO:
	It was enough to break every bit of bone in 
	my hand.
	(stretches out his right hand)
	It's practically useless to box with it now. 
	Damn those fuckheads.

CU of Sano's frown.

DISSOLVE TO:

FLASHBACK


(11) INT.  BOXING GYM -- DAY

CU of Sanosuke frowning.

He is leaning back against the wall, arms crossed over his torso as he 
watches his fellow boxers sparring up in the ring.  His right hand is 
massively bandaged.

	SOUJIRO:
	(OS)
	Mr. Zanza?

Sano turns and sees a beaming Soujiro approaching him.

	SANO:
	(frown easing off)
	Hey, aren't you...?

	SOUJIRO:
	(stopping just before Sano)
	Seta Soujiro, yup.  We've met before.

	SANO:
	Yeah, Soujiro.  What're you doing here?

	SOUJIRO:
	I heard about that.
	(gazes at Sano's bandaged hand)
	I'm so sorry.  Mr. Shishio and I were looking 
	forward to watching you fight again.

	SANO:
	(shrugs)
	'Sokay.

A pause.

	SOUJIRO:
	Um...Mr. Zanza?

	SANO:
	Don't call me that.  I'm fine with Sanosuke.

	SOUJIRO:
	Okay.  Sanosuke.
	(flashes a smile that could last 'til next year)
	Would you like to have a drink with me?

	SANO:
	(blinking)
	Huh?

	SOUJIRO:
	(light chuckle)
	I'm sorry if it seems a little sudden...
	(pauses, his smile now glazed with seriousness)
	...but I have a proposal for you.

Another pause.

	SANO:
	What kind?

	SOUJIRO:
	I can help you get back at them.  The ones who 
	did that to you.

	SANO:
	(uncrosses his arms, face registering interest)
	What d'you mean?

	SOUJIRO:
	(taking Sano's bandaged hand into his own)
	Let's talk this over coffee, shall we?

He gives Sano a smile that could last a lifetime.

Sano stares at the shorter boy, at the braces peeping through his 
smile, at the small hand holding his own.  Then:

	SANO:
	(returning the radiant smile)
	Over coffee, then.

Sano peels himself off the wall, and lets Soujiro lead him out of the 
gym.

Full shot of the two boys, their backs to us, walking hand in hand out 
of the gym.

	SOUJIRO:
	(VO)
	I need a new partner, besides.

	SANO:
	(VO)
	A new partner?

	SOUJIRO:
	(VO)
	Yup.  You're really pretty, you know that?

END FLASHBACK

DISSOLVE BACK TO:


(12) INT.  APARTMENT LIVING ROOM -- AFTERNOON

Saitou bends forward to tap his ash into the ashtray, his sharp golden 
eyes camping on the great outdoors that is Sanosuke the whole while.

	SAITOU:
	Yet despite what happened, you ended up joining 
	the mob, anyway.

	SANO:
	(shakes head)
	Mr. Shishio's not with the mob.  He knows plenty 
	of 'em but he ain't one of 'em.  Sure he deals 
	shit too, but at least his is legit.

	SAITOU:
	(sarcastic)
	Shit like doing in people, that's legitimate.

	SANO:
	Well...
	(shrugs)
	We really got no proof for that.

	SAITOU:
	(smirking)
	And shit like pimping you two boys. Legitimate 
	alright.

	SANO:
	Nah, you got it wrong, he's got nothin' to do 
	with it.  It's all /Houji/, not Mr. Shishio.  
	And, and what we do for Houji's not even, like, 
	any big deal, you know?  Me and Soujiro just... 
	we just /pose/, for them Uncles.  We don't --

	SAITOU:
	Uncles?

	SANO:
	Yeah.  What we call 'em.
	(snorts)
	Soujiro's too polite.  Anyways, where was I...

	SAITOU:
	That you just /pose/.

	SANO:
	Yeah, just that.  /No sex/.  And we only do 
	shows like last night once every couple weeks.  
	Other than that we just pose.

	SAITOU:
	(eyes stalking the flat)
	And you seem to be making a lot from it, I see.

	SANO:
	Sure.
	(shrugs)
	The best thing, though, now that I'm with Mr. 
	Shishio? -- no one messes with me anymore.  
	'Cos they figure I'm one of his bitches and 	
	like hell they lay off.
	(cackles)

Saitou blows his smoke.  His face is a blank slate as he watches Sano 
cackle like a tickled goofball.

Tucking his filter in one corner of his lips, he takes out a small 
notepad from his coat's inside pocket.

	SAITOU:
	(clears throat briefly)
	Those...Uncles of yours: was Takeda Kanryu 
	one of them?

	SANO:
	Yeah.  One of our regulars, actually.

	SAITOU:
	(pulling out a pen)
	When did you meet him?

The detective leans back in the sofa, pen poised to scribble away.

		SANO:
		Let's see now.
		(thinks back)
		It was 'bout a couple months ago...

We slide down from Sano until we get a CU of the ashtray on the coffee 
table.  In the BG Sano continues to gab away.

FADE TO BLACK

Then:

FADE IN:

CU of the same ashtray, now stuffed with freshly-ground cigarette 
butts.

There are four empty beer cans now on the coffee table, too.

		SANO:
		(OS)
		...  Yeah, that's the last I saw of the guy.  
		Alone with Takeda.  That's it.

		SAITOU:
		(holding cigarette between his fore and middle 
		fingers)
		You're positive it was Shinomori.

		SANO:
		Positive as hell.
		(guzzles down the can of beer in his grasp)

Saitou flips his notepad shut, nodding slowly to himself.  He stubs out 
his cancer stick onto the lip of the ashtray, then leans back once 
again in the sofa...

...to find his eyes treated to the riveting sight of Sanosuke drinking 
his beer.

CU of Sano's slightly sweat-coated throat, of his adam's apple bobbing 
as he swallows down his drink.

CU of Saitou's unblinking golden eyes.  Of his lips just on the verge 
of separating.

Sano tilts his head further up as he empties his can.  A bead of sweat 
tumbles its way down along the center of his neck.

The hand on Saitou's thigh starts to slide its way up, up to his 
crotch, we can imagine, but stops itself at the last second as Sano 
then leans forward to put down his emptied can on the table.

		SANO:
		(wipes mouth with the back of his wrist)
		Is it three yet?

		SAITOU:
		(glancing at his wristwatch)
		Just past.

		SANO:
		Hey, you got somethin' to do after this?

		SAITOU:
		(putting his pen and pad back into his coat 
		pockets)
		Not particularly.

		SANO:
		(grins)
		Great.  There's this party at Mr. Shishio's I 
		gotta go to right now.  Think it'd be cool 
		if you came with me.

Saitou tosses him a pair of knitted brows.

		SANO:
		(assuring)
		It's just a li'l tea party for his friends 
		and associates.

		SAITOU:
		(snorts)
		Then count me out.

		SANO:
		(near-bouncing in eagerness)
		No big deal.  We can invite whoever we want, 
		anyways.  It's gonna be cool, trust me!

		SAITOU:
		(drably)
		Parties don't interest me, at any rate.

		SANO:
		(gung-ho)
		I bet this one will.  Some of Takeda's 
		partners are gonna come, and you can check 
		'em out, you know?  Gather more clues and 
		stuff for the case?

		SAITOU:
		(half-bored)
		I don't know.

		SANO:
		(with ineffable enthusiasm)
		Maybe you can even gather round where Aoshi'd 
		gone off to.  Heck you'll be wrapping up 
		that assignment in no time!

Saitou regards the irrepressibly waiting Sano with stolid eyes, perhaps 
considering his invitation.  Then:

		SAITOU:
		(without fervor)
		I suppose I could come.

		SANO:
		(mile-wide grin)
		Awesome.
		(bolts up from his seat)
		I uh, I gotta change first, though.  But 
		I'll take just a minute.

Saitou utters nothing more than a soft grunt.

Sano moseys over to the wall right across from Saitou.  He turns on the 
flat, monstrous-huge-screen TV.

		SANO:
		Here.  So you don't doze off.

On the screen, we see a sumo wrestling match just getting under way.

		SANO:
		Hey, sumo's on.  You watch these guys?

		SAITOU:
		(disinterested)
		Not a lot.

		SANO:
		Well I like 'em, they can be pretty hilarious 
		sometimes.
		(starts to walk off)
		Be out in a minute.

With prompt steps Sano crosses the wide floor, straight to the hallway 
leading to his bedroom.

He glances back at the living room just before he disappears into the 
hallway, leaving Saitou quiet and still before the TV.


(13) INT.  SANOSUKE'S BEDROOM -- AFTERNOON

As soon as Sanosuke steps foot in the room, he gallops over to his 
computer desk, lifts a leg up onto the table top, and then rubs his 
crotch hard against the thick table edge.  He holds on tight to the 
computer monitor, letting his long lashes conceal the desire in his 
eyes and moaning softly as he rubs himself faster and harder.

		SANO:
		(his face caught in a tug-of-war between 
		pain and pleasure)
		Shit.  What is it a/bout/ that man...  
		Aahhhnnnnmm...

CU of Sano rolling his tongue over his lips.


(14) INT.  APARTMENT LIVING ROOM -- AFTERNOON

CU of Saitou's lips slowly curling up into a smirk.

On the TV screen, we see the two sumo wrestlers squaring off inside the 
small dohyo ring...their obese fighting forms gradually *morphing* into 
tall, lean figures.  Into...Saitou and Sanosuke.

Hence on the screen now we have SUMO WRESTLER SAITOU and SUMO WRESTLER 
SANO, both clad in only mawashi loin cloths (Saitou's is blue, Sano's 
white), gearing up for a battle.

		SUMO WRESTLER SANO:
		(sneering, hands planted on hips)
		Hah!  See if you can defeat me, roach-face!

		SUMO WRESTLER SAITOU:
		(haughtily)
		Don't be so /cock/y now, rooster-head.

In the center of the ring, the two men squat and crouch down to their 
attacking positions, their blazing eyes locked.  Then they go at it.

Sumo Wrestler Saitou grapples Sumo Wrestler Sano, grabbing hold of his 
mawashi belt.  With one swift, expert tug, he unravels the boy's 
covering.  Rendering his golden form completely naked.

		SUMO WRESTLER SANO:
		(face a vivid shade of red)
		What the -- you pervert!

Sumo Wrestler Saitou smirks, tossing away the long, white loin cloth as 
Sumo Wrestler Sano stands before him doubled over in embarrassment, one 
hand desperately trying to cover his crotch, the other his behind.

		SUMO WRESTLER SANO:
		(indignant)
		That's against the rules, prick!  I win!

		SUMO WRESTLER SAITOU:
		(slyly)
		Oh, /you/ win?  A victory ride's in order, then.

		SUMO WRESTLER SANO:
		(pupils dilating, taking a step away)
		No, stay back!  Okay, okay you win!  You win!

		SUMO WRESTLER SAITOU:
		(smirking)
		Don't be so humble, now.

Sumo Wrestler Saitou advances, all ready to hoist the "victorious" ass 
of Sumo Wrestler Sano up onto his shoulders.  When:

		SANO:
		(OS)
		I'm ready!

Saitou blinks.  On the TV screen now we see the two tubby fighters 
trying to shove each other out of the dohyo circle.

Saitou scowls.

...But not for long.

Slithering out to the living room, just putting on his dark gray pea 
coat, is Sano, clad in a fitted, buttoned-up, dark red, velvet 
military-style vest that bares his firm deltoids, tight, dark red 
denims, and black boots.

In reflex Saitou stays rooted in the sofa.  Apparently captivated.  And 
nursing a hard-on, we can think likely, too.

		SANO:
		(turning the TV off)
		You ready, Detective?

With nothing to it, Saitou tears his eyes off Sano, turning to his 
trench coat by the sofa armrest.  Efficiently he grabs the clothing, 
stands up, and wears it.

The two men go over to the front door.

		SANO:
		Let's take my car.

		SAITOU:
		(shakes head briefly)
		I have my own.

		SANO:
		I know but, I figured that, since I invited ya to 
		the party it's only fair that /I/ take you there.

		SAITOU:
		(pause)
		You're asking me to leave my car here?

		SANO:
		Relax, I'll take you back.

		SAITOU:
		I don't think you --

		SANO:
		'Sides your car won't get past Mr. Shishio's 
		security, anyways.

Sano yanks open the door for Saitou, stepping aside like something of a 
chivalric suitor.

Hands plunged in his coat pockets, Saitou steps out, his face a 
consistent and admirable picture of stoicism.

Behind the man's back, Sano grins to himself, his pretty face a visual 
case of extreme... delight.