PRETTY BOYS
Story by QueenYokozuna

[scenes 24-30]


(24) INT.  SAITOU'S LIVING ROOM -- JUST AROUND SUNDOWN

CU of Saitou's glossy black shoes and Sanosuke's lackluster black 
boots, sitting next to each other by the edge of the raised wooden 
floor. 

The house, particularly the living room, is small, cold, and bare -- 
the sullen yellow light serving no purpose to offset this -- with not 
much of a homelike air to it, like it hasn't crossed paths with the 
concept of domesticity in years.

Sano sits in the middle of the blue couch against the wall, leaning 
slightly forward, elbows propped on his knees.

His coats off, and tie loosened, Saitou stands beside the homely brown 
armchair across the couch, one hand concealed by his pocket, the other 
holding a freshly-lit cigarette to his mouth.

		SANO:
		(scratching an imaginary itch on a cheek)
		Aren't you gonna ask how I found out --

		SAITOU:
		(curtly)
		Not interested.
		(puffs)
		Now start talking.

A pause.

		SANO:
		(long fingers entwining)
		I got a confession to make.

		SAITOU:
		(shifts his body weight to his right)
		I'm listening.

		SANO:
		I'm...
		(irises tacked to Saitou's socked feet)
		It's me who did Ozeki.

A second long pause.

		SAITOU:
		(flatly, after blowing smoke)
		The reason?

		SANO:
		(broods)
		Revenge.

		SAITOU:
		For?

		SANO:
		(leans one side of his head against his hand)
		For my mentor.
		
		SAITOU:
		(drags)
		Sagara Souzo.

		SANO:
		(gaze darting up in surprise)
		How come -- how'd you know?

		SAITOU:
		No matter.
		(exhales smoke)
		Are you certain you had the right guy.

		SANO:
		'Course I am.
		(embittered)
		I was with my Taicho the night he died.

The frowning Sano slouches back in the couch, his arms encircling 
himself and his eyes succumbing to the comfort of darkness his 
fluttering lids provide.

DISSOLVE TO:

FLASHBACK -- A LITTLE UNDER TEN YEARS AGO


(25) INT.  BOXING GYM -- NIGHT

Full shot of the small, dim gymnasium, with gloomy blue skylight 
bursting through the glass windows.

		(OS) A lone gun shot resounds in the air.

Against the minimal luminescence, we descry the silhouette of four men, 
three of them tall and with brawny built; the fourth one too far back 
in the shadows for us to define.

Down on the floor before them, like dolls thrown carelessly by a 
spoiled brat, are three bodies prone and quiet and still in the sea of 
blackness. 

Slumped down against the wall is SAGARA SOUZO, in his late teens or 
early 20s.  The right side of his face is kept from view by strands of 
his thick, short black hair.  He has a thin, crimson headband tied 
across his forehead, just like Sanosuke.

Unlike the three men lying flat over the floor, Sagara is still 
breathing.

His chest, however, is riddled with a triangle of bullet holes; his 
sweatshirt spattered with inky blood.  His lovely, albeit awfully-
bruised, face is set in a tight coil of agony.

Curled up into a semi-ball right behind Sagara, squeezed into the 
meager space between the wall and his back, is Little Sano, aged 9.  
His small, lean form is visibly trembling, his eyes brimming over with 
tears of terror.

		BRAWNY MAN 1:
		(OS)
		What's next, Sir?

		(OS) *High-pitched* chuckle, *exactly* like the 
		one we'd heard earlier out of Fat Man.

Little Sano summons up all courage to sneak a peek up.

From Little Sano's POV, against the dark blue light, lo and behold the 
bloated silhouette of the chuckling Fat Man.

		FAT MAN IN SILHOUETTE:
		What's next is the death blow, of course.

		BRAWNY MAN 1 IN SILHOUETTE:
		Right about time.

		FAT MAN IN SILHOUETTE:
		Hand me my baby.

		BRAWNY MAN 2 IN SILHOUETTE:
		(stepping up to Fat Man)
		Here you go, Sir!

		SAGARA:
		(almost inaudibly, OS)
		Sanosuke...

As though automatic, Little Sano bursts quietly into tears.  His little 
desperate hand clutches harder at Sagara's shirt.

		LITTLE SANO:
		(cries, pressing a cheek against the cloth in 
		his grasp)
		Taicho, please hang on...

		(OS) Footsteps.

Little Sano raises his bleary gaze to see Fat Man drawing near, the 
long, hollow barrel of his gun pointed downward at Sagara.

		SAGARA:
		(near-whispering)
		I'm sorry, Sano --

*Bang*.

Little Sano cries, crushing his tearful eyes shut.

		FAT MAN:
		(OS)
		Hmph.  That's for getting friendly with my wife, 
		/asshole/.

		BRAWNY MAN 2:
		(OS)
		Eh, Sir, what about the kid?

Young chocolate eyes soar wide open.

		BRAWNY MAN 3:
		(taunting, OS)
		What, you scared he'll point us to the cops?

		FAT MAN:
		(OS)
		In any event, we're fresh out of luck.  That was 
		my last bullet.
		(chuckles)
		Let's call it a night, ladies.

		(OS) Footsteps once again.

Little Sano cranes his neck, and catches sight of the shadowy figures 
of Fat Man and the brawny triumvirate swaggering out of the gym.

A *high-pitched* chuckle breaks forth yet again.

		SANO:
		(VO)
		There's no way I can ever forget that fucking laugh.

CU of Little Sano's fingers curling into a trembling little fist.

END FLASHBACK

DISSOLVE BACK TO:


(26) INT.  SAITOU'S HOUSE -- JUST AROUND SUNDOWN

		SANO:
		(clenched fists on his knees)
		I swore I'd avenge Taicho whatever the hell 
		it'd take.  I searched for the pig since that 
		night, and finally when I found him two weeks 
		ago, I said, you know, /this is it/.  I'm 
		getting my fucking revenge.

		SAITOU:
		(reticent)
		I see.

Saitou takes a seat on the armchair next to him, tipping his stick into 
the ashtray on the little round table to the side.  His face is 
spotlessly clean of emotion.

He puffs on his smoke anew, his amber eyes grazing on the lush pasture 
that is the slouched Sanosuke, before:

		SAITOU:
		So while you hammed it up getting cozy with the 
		man, in truth you were just waiting for the right 
		time to strike.

		SANO:
		Pretty much, yeah.
		(pushes himself up to sit straight)
		It was all just a cover, you know, so I'd kinda 
		gain his trust.

		SAITOU:
		Uh-huh.  Is that the advice Seta gave you?

		SANO:
		(mystified, as it were)
		Soujiro?

		SAITOU:
		(crossing his legs)
		Aa.

		SANO:
		(with a funny look on his face)
		Why would Soujiro advice me on anything?

		SAITOU:
		(rests an elbow on an armrest)
		I was just presuming he's that helpful a friend.

		SANO:
		And why'd you presume that?

		SAITOU:
		Well, he took care of the thugs who broke your 
		hand, after all, and offered you a new.../means 
		of living/, so to speak.

		SANO:
		(right about annoyed)
		Look, just leave Soujiro out of this -- the thing 
		is /I/ killed the pig, okay?  Just me.

		SAITOU:
		(drags)
		Are you even aware you can do time for this?

		SANO:
		(with resolve)
		'Course I am and that's why I'm turning myself in.

		SAITOU:
		(seemingly exasperated)
		You actually want to rot in jail?

		SANO:
		(pause)
		No, but I don't wanna trouble Mr. Shishio by asking 
		him to clean my mess up and all.  'Sides, I've had 
		my revenge already, I got nothing more to live for 
		now.  Hell I can spend the rest of my life in jail, 
		I don't care anymore.  No one's gonna give a shit, 
		anyways.

		SAITOU:
		(taps cigarette)
		I don't know /where/ you get that twisted sense 
		of nobility.  However I do know one thing for 
		certain. 		

		SANO:
		What.

		SAITOU:
		This might disappoint you.  But you /didn't/ 
		kill Ozeki.

		SANO:
		(brows drawn together)
		What d'you mean I /didn't/?

		SAITOU:
		He died all right, but not from strangulation, 
		like you tried to pull off.

		SANO:
		(face crawling with confusion)
		What?!  But, I saw him /die/, right as I was 
		tryin' to choke him!

		SAITOU:
		(shakes head shortly, taking a drag)
		You don't kill someone with that hunk of a neck 
		just by strangling him for a mere couple of seconds.

		SANO:
		(shakes head slowly)
		I don't get it.

		SAITOU:
		(clinical)
		The cause of his death is poisoning.  The cookie 
		sandwiches he had with him have been infused with 
		poison.  The poison attacked his heart at that 
		exact moment you began to wind the cord or rope 
		or whatever it was you used around his throat.

		SANO:
		Huh?  Oh, is that why he was already kinda choking 
		up before I could even tighten my wring?

		SAITOU:
		(grunts)
		You never wondered?

		SANO:
		Sure I did, but I just figured I was one hell 
		of a strangler.

		SAITOU:
		(sardonic)
		Astute.

		SANO:
		(frowns for the nth time)
		Hold on.  Why would his cookies be poisoned 
		anyways?

		SAITOU:
		That's still under investigation.  Perhaps you 
		weren't the only one who wanted him dead.

		SANO:
		Gee.
		(contemplates; cups a rubbing hand to a shoulder)
		So /I/ didn't kill the pig after all?

		SAITOU:
		Aa.

		SANO:
		Man this fucks everything up...  What does this 
		mean for me, then?  Attempted murder?

		SAITOU:
		If you put that confession down on paper, 
		technically, yes.

The man extinguishes the flaring end of his stick with a hard grind 
onto the ashtray, and Sano spends a few seconds of his existence just 
watching Saitou do this, as though spellbound.

		SANO:
		(now remembering that eyes need to blink, too)
		So...

		SAITOU:
		(not stirring)
		So.

		SANO:
		Aren't you gonna, take me to the station?  And, 
		you know, I guess turn me in?

		SAITOU:
		(matter-of-factly)
		No.

		SANO:
		(blinks)
		Huh?

		SAITOU:
		I'm not bothering myself to do that.
		(starts to unknot his tie)
		You could've gone straight to the precinct, if 
		that's what you wanted.

		SANO:
		Yeah, well...
		(pause)
		I...I wanted to see you alone one last time, too.

Sano's suddenly-abashed gaze takes a dive to the floor.

		SAITOU:
		Hn.
		(grunts)
		And I was hoping I'd never see your ass again.

A long pause, the third one in the last half-hour.

Through one of Saitou's windows, we get a full shot of the vermillion 
spectacle of the sunset in the horizon.

And then:

		SAITOU:
		(OS)
		The kitchen's to your left.  Go fix us something 
		nice.  And I don't want to hear you bitching.

Sano's eyes spring back up, just in time to follow Saitou disappearing 
into the hallway across the room, divesting himself of his shirt.

CU of Sano's million-yen grin.

		
(27) INT.  SAITOU'S BEDROOM -- NIGHT

The room is fairly dark, lit only by the pale white glow of the lamp on 
the nightstand.

Saitou lies supine on the bed, head and upper back propped up on the 
large, blue pillow against the headboard.  Sanosuke has the older man 
straddled by the groin.

Neither of them, by the way, are in any clothing.

Sano rubs himself without hurry against Saitou as his fingers 
administer a feathery caress to the patch of soft, black curls under 
him.  Saitou, meanwhile, keeps the twin ends of Sano's headband caught 
between his teeth, his hands pawing petting stroking Sano's hips.  He 
is smirking at the boy.  And Sano is smirking in turn.

		SANO:
		(almost mewling)
		Saitou.

		SAITOU:
		Hm.

		SANO:
		(brightly)
		Can I go down on you?

		SAITOU:
		(unwavering)
		No.

		SANO:
		(pouts)
		No?

		SAITOU:
		(releases the twin ends of the headband)
		Not 'til I'm bored with this position.

		SANO:
		Oh.
		(gracious)
		'Kay, then.

With increasing pressure, Sano continues to rub himself against Saitou.

CU of Saitou's hands indulging themselves in the silkiness of Sano's 
grinding hips.

A syrupy moan gushes its way out of Sano.

CU of his parted pink lips.

CUT TO:


(28) INT.  SOUJIRO'S BEDROOM -- NIGHT

CU of Soujiro's parted pink lips.  He, too, is moaning.

The boy is laid back by the foot of the queen-size, four-poster bed.  
He only has a light blue shirt on, opened three buttons down the 
collar.  His slim, bare legs are mounted over Kenshin's shoulders.

The red-haired detective -- in a pale pink shirt and light khaki pants 
-- is down kneeling before Soujiro, his stretched-out hands kneading 
the younger man's thighs.  His face is hovering over Soujiro's crotch, 
and as his head moves up and down, several long, loose strands of his 
ponytail stroke the nakedness of Soujiro's hips.

Compared to Saitou's, this bedroom is considerably brighter, with the 
tall, elegant lamp on the bedside table giving off a relaxed sunny 
glow.

We focus on Soujiro's left hand, inching its way to the side of the 
bed.  It plunges down as soon as it gets to the edge, carefully 
reaching between the thick mattresses.  In a few moments, he draws 
out...

a gleaming, double-edged dagger.

He slides the short weapon up carefully to the top of the mattress, and 
as he does so keeps an eye peeled on the redhead still down on him.

Then, Soujiro lets his lids slide down his eyes...raises the polished 
stainless blade in the air...and brings it down in one fluid, stabbing 
motion.

CU of the blade, its tip glistening in the artificial sunshiny 
incandescence.

FAST CUT TO:

CU of Soujiro's eyes flying wide open.

Immediately he looks down.

CU of Soujiro's left wrist held in a rigid, twisted grip by...

Kenshin's right hand.

CU of Kenshin's purple orbs now regarding Soujiro from underneath 
crimson strands.  His gaze is steady and cryptic, devoid of any clear-
cut visceral reaction.

With his free hand, Kenshin extracts the dagger from Soujiro's wilting 
fingers, before tossing it away to the carpeted floor.  Slowly then he 
picks himself up to sit on the edge of the bed, his straight back 
turned to Soujiro.

In a manner as though fearful of the slightest rustling of sheets, 
Soujiro sits his half-naked self up.  His lowered gaze is obscured by 
his soft, black locks, his fingers laced together atop his bare lap.

The four walls go deaf from the sound of silence.

CU of a small moth fluttering its little white wings in the air.  The 
moth alights on the top rim of the lamp shade, settling itself to bask 
in the warmth of the flame-like glow.

Just then:

		KENSHIN:
		(in a calm voice)
		So the real reason for your apparent, affections, 
		towards me...was to gain my trust, and then catch 
		me off-guard to carry out your true intent.

Not one answer, not a single movement.

		KENSHIN:
		I never thought a mere policeman like I could 
		pose a threat to your boss.

		SOUJIRO:
		(almost hastily, yet without budging an inch)
		That's not true.  Mr. Shishio has nothing to 
		do with this.

		KENSHIN:
		(pause)
		Then it was all you?

CU of the little moth on the lamp shade, its wings folding flat aloft 
its antennae.

Then:

		SOUJIRO:
		(softly)
		When I was 8, Mr. Himura, I lost my mom and dad.
		(pause)
		A man who was enemies with my dad had them killed.  
		And, he had them killed by, by a master assassin 
		I'd only known by name until now.
		(pause)
		Battousai.  That was the assassin's name.

FAST CUT TO:

CU of Kenshin's clear violet irises, the shock of realization adding to 
their size.

		SOUJIRO:
		I met Mr. Shishio a short time after I was orphaned.  
		He brought me back on my feet, and later on helped 
		me avenge my parents. I had no trouble hunting down 
		the mastermind, but Battousai...

A strained pause.

		SOUJIRO:
		I was hoping the cross scar on your cheek was 
		just plain outrageous coincidence.  You're the 
		most well-meaning, most unselfish person I've 
		ever met...  There's no other fact harder for me 
		to accept than that, that your warm and gentle 
		hands are stained with my parents' blood.  I 
		didn't want to believe you were Battousai, but --

		KENSHIN:
		(gently, still with his back facing the boy)
		You don't have to explain yourself, Soujiro.  
		You only tried to do the one thing you 
		believed was right, that you did.

		SOUJIRO:
		Mr. Himura --

		KENSHIN:
		If only to pay for the pain I'd caused you I'd 
		let you take my life now with all my heart.
		(pause)
		But I'm sad to say I can't allow that.

CU of Kenshin, his eyes now fairly traceable of both fixity of purpose 
and a sore sense of unhappiness.

His hands drop to either side of him, gripping the edge of the 
mattress.

		KENSHIN:
		My days of atoning for my crimes are far from 
		over yet...  I would appreciate it if you'd let 
		me go on helping more people still than I've killed.
		(pause)
		I don't know if this will mean anything to you in 
		any way...but I'm sorry, Soujiro.  I undeservedly 
		ask for your forgiveness.

Almost in haste, then, Kenshin starts to lift himself up from the 
mattress, but Soujiro ably stops him with a tight, precipitate embrace 
from behind.

		SOUJIRO:
		(leaning his brow to the back of Kenshin's head)
		I won't forgive you /ever/ if you leave me.

		KENSHIN:
		(quite gasping)
		Soujiro?

		SOUJIRO:
		(meekly)
		Are you...
		(pause)
		Do you think you can...forgive me too, Mr. Himura?

CU of the lone moth, flapping its tiny wings once.

Gently, Kenshin turns in the closure of arms about him, and lifts his 
hands to cup Soujiro's jaw.

The minute we can peer at Soujiro's moistened eyes through the ebony 
veil of his hair, Kenshin proffers him a soothing smile...and then 
leans in...drawing the gap between them with a fuzzy kiss on the mouth.

Soujiro lets his smile melt into the warm, lingering kiss.

Kenshin then lays him back down on the bed, and Soujiro's fingers 
wander up to the band holding that red ponytail.  Silky, scarlet 
tresses cascade down over the young man.

Leaving the kissing couple to themselves momentarily, we slide down to 
the gorgeously-printed carpet on the floor.

CUT BACK TO:


(29) INT.  SAITOU'S BEDROOM -- NIGHT

We are down on the dust-free, woodwork flooring of the room.

		(OS) Sanosuke.  Moaning lewdly, with hardly an 
		ounce of compunction.

From the floor, we slide up to find Sano on all fours by the head of 
the bed.  He is keeping a sturdy grip on the thankfully stable 
headboard.

Saitou is kneeling with his arms enfolding Sano from behind, his face, 
and his own moans, buried in the wet brown strands down the boy's nape.

Their fused bodies rock as one.  Pretty hard.

Sano's moans reach a couple decibels higher.

CUT BACK TO:


(30) INT.  SOUJIRO'S BEDROOM -- NIGHT

Soujiro, now stark-naked and laid on his back, with Kenshin, also 
stark-naked, bent half-kneeling over the boy and securing him with a 
firm hold by the hips.  Soujiro's right leg is coiled tightly around 
Kenshin's waist, and his left just under Kenshin's arm.  His fingers 
are wrapped around the ends of the long, flaming locks of the older 
man.

Their soldered bodies, incidentally, are rocking pretty hard, too.

And Soujiro moaning quite as loud.

CU of the same moth on the edge of the lamp shade.  It's gained company 
now, in the presence of an equally small moth with black wings.  Both 
sit completely still.

		(OS) Kenshin and Soujiro crying out *loud* 
		in unison.

Then:

		(OS) Kenshin and Soujiro laboring for breath.

Together, our two little moths flutter quietly away.

Back to the couple on the bed.

Kenshin has now disengaged himself from Soujiro.

They lie drawing each other to themselves, their sweat-polished bodies 
caught in a sweet tangle of limbs.

		KENSHIN:
		(under his breath)
		Soujiro?

		SOUJIRO:
		Yup?

		KENSHIN:
		(closes eyes)
		Goodnight.

		SOUJIRO:
		(closes own eyes, with a billion-yen smile)
		Thank you.

And nestled in each other's embrace, our two petit lovers allow 
themselves to fall into the waiting arms of slumber.

FADE TO BLACK

Then:

FADE IN: