High Score?

by  kimera

 

rating: pg 16

warning: no native, rape, heartache, language

Nekktarinka's Lovey Dovey Challenge no. 1 (Saitou's birthday)

Rurouni Kenshin- Series by Nobuhiro Watsuki

 

Disclaimer:

Everything about Rurouni Kenshin belongs to Nobuhiro Watsuki, no interference, no claims whatsoever, the challenge was originated by Nekktarinka.

 

Special warning:

I'm no native, so eons of mistakes, misspellings and strange choice of words, adding I have sole knowledge of the German translation of the manga series, so my view might differ.

!!Un-beta’d version!!

 

Summary:

There's a time to crow, and there's a time to fly...

 

 

[10-01-04]

~ð~ ~ð~ ~ð~ ~ð~ ~ð~ ~ð~ ~ð~ ~ð~ ~ð~ ~ð~ ~ð~ ~ð~ ~ð~ ~ð~ ~ð~ ~ð~ ~ð~ ~ð~

 

 

 

High Score?

 

 

"Fucking-damn-shitty woods!

Fucking-damn-asshole-idiot-dumbass-moron-broomhead!

And...", lowering his voice to a whisper, "damn bastard of a fucking Meiji-asshole cop!"

 

As easily perceivable, Sanosuke Sagara, former member of the Sekihoutai, former gangster aka Zanza with the Zanbatou, and currently secret agent of the Meiji police forces, held strong views about his actual task.

 

Which consisted in meeting the evil enforcer of his law down the forest, about two hours north from the borders of Toukyou... at least, he assumed this to be the orders...gnashing another series of profanities, Sanosuke stormed on, his bandaged fists clutching in his trouser's pockets.

 

Well, there had been a brawl with that brainless thug Chou... damn idiot from Oosaka... so the message had been ripped and partly chewed... and swallowed... maybe he had better not added some pink ribbons to the notoriously stupid-looking broomhead... but the guy was sleeping while on duty!!

 

All right, the colour did not match perfectly with the idiot's clothing... so what??

He had rendered service after all, by flicking a burning match to it, had he not??

 

Anyways, the dumbass was far better off without his damn broom... a blonde broom, ye gods!! And you would not like to know about the population living in that straw-bunch...

 

Adding, it was never good advising to point out the ugliness of the bandana Sanosuke sported... since his own, beloved red one had been ransacked (like his body) by the forsaken wolf of Mibu, his brother had shared his own, artistic-style cloths with him... summa sumarum, Chou's injuries were entirely self-inflicted!!

 

Damn idiot!, Sanosuke grinned smugly, see if you can find a wig for your egghead, baldy!

 

He did not care the least if Saitou would be getting at him for teaching Chou a due lesson of respect, because... BECAUSE he was now to challenge the old bastard of cop from hell to their duel. And after massive, heartily enjoyed asskicking, he would shove a katana up the bastard's stiff ass... HIS katana.

 

Grinning in anticipation, Sanosuke patted his best chum down south.

 

Ready to strike... oh yeah!!

 

                                                ~ð~

 

They were close, trying to hide away, but no match to the last of the Shinsengumi, the invincible third captain, Hajime Saitou, working for the secret police of the Meiji after the several civil wars, now under the cover of a simple officer addressed as Goro Fujita.

 

His keen senses charted their progress, the hideouts, waiting to attack... extinguishing the last obstacle for their criminal organisation to conquer the lower parts of Toukyou.

 

There would definitely be some extinction today, the wolf consented, baring his mighty fangs.

 

                                                ~ð~

 

Things had been running smooth for him... about one month ago... coming up in time to his 20th birthday, Sanosuke Sagara was on a lucky strike.

 

He had fought the worst enemies of the Meiji, a loyal friend to Kenshin Himura, improved his skills beyond his expectations, no limits set to his future... and ready to greet another decade of his life, he had intended to free himself of the last yoke wearing him down: damn wolf of Mibu and his fucking missions!

 

But alas! there had been minor troubles... like catching that damn influenza, which caused the fistfighter serious contemplation.

 

His stamina was well known, almost famous, he could not remember being sick ever in his life, so, he stated, things must be coming down on him.

 

Yeah, he grunted testily, things like that damn cop stealing his beloved bandana and... clutching his fists tightly, he gnashed his teeth in a bitter grimace.

 

No use beating about the bushes.

 

That sneaky cop from hell had committed another crime to him, by daring him into another contest... a challenge he could not win.

Evil, wicked, damn bastard cop....the roosterheaded fighter sucked air greedily to diminish the pressure encircling his heart like an iron belt.

 

Saitou had made him accept being ... he clenched his teeth tightly...screwed, but it had not happened like that bastard's common attitude made believe... the fierce swordfighter had been tender and caring.

 

Going easy on him.

 

Because of his virginity.... his jaws gnashed audibly.

 

Infernal, manipulating asshole!

 

Now, there were dreams... certain dreams.

Dreams that rendered his happy chum waiting for something else than his usual skillful handwork.

 

Why damn couldn't I refrain once?!

 

Now he felt even awkward cursing by using the f****- word!

 

So here I am, being fucked up in every sense you can imagine, instead of running free to my new life!

But I never give up!

Never ever!

 

In accordance there would be the duel, the bastard would pay his debts, presumably on his knees, howling!, and then, his bandana would be back where it belonged to, and everything would be smooth again!

 

Speaking of his bandana... he twirled the long strap of the currently worn cloth around his finger, frowning once again at the color.

 

Why did I have to choose that one?!

It keeps on remembering me of his eyes... amber with sulphurous flames... gnaahh!!

 

Sighing profoundly, Sanosuke shook his head free, like he could get rid of his dark memories.

 

Of course, he failed.

 

»Say, that better?«, he had asked, posing smugly in front of his brother-of-choice, Katsu, causing the painter to smirk, a very rare sight.

 

He did not know anything about the art to dress up, his bandana being a symbol of his dedication, not an accessory of art, causing their session at the painter's little house to be close to hysterical amusement.

 

As close as anyone could get with a somber young man like Katsu.

 

But he had smiled, even laughed sometimes, so the fistfighter had been happy, loving to watch his brother loosen up.

 

»Let's just switch«, he had grabbed for the cloth keeping Katsu's shiny, long strands in place, of a pretty Royalblue colour.

 

Merrily, he combed the locks behind one ear, inspecting the profile of his brother, to stare in utter appreciation, slightly taken aback.

 

Katsu had turned, suddenly, withdrewing, but the swift fistfighter had been faster, cupping Katsu's face with one mighty hand, studying the attractive features with intense care.

 

Wiping away the kol the painter used to encircle his eyes with shadows, creating the illusion of illness and exhaustion.

 

»Damn, Katsu... you're beautiful«, Sanosuke had whispered, adoring and baffled the same.

 

He had never realised how stunning admirable his brother looked... the pitchblack eyes, the shiny strands, the ethereal quality of the white skin...

 

His impulsive statement earned a bitter hiss, the enchanting eyes became clouded with hatred and pain.... and he had remembered, slowly, unwillingly.

 

The advice of their taichou to stay together, to never talk about personal matters to anyone but him, to be aware even while sleeping, the lesson about camouflage and blending with their surroundings, usually the task of the loathed ninja-spies.

 

And Katsu still kept on hiding his true self away, to become a somber-looking, pale ghost, disappearing beneath cloths of strange patterns.

 

Not to be found, not to be touched, not to be hurt...

 

»Tell me, what happened to you?« he had inquired, afraid of the answers but brave to muster the consequences, tenderly caressing one pale cheek with his thumb, not giving leave to his brother's face.

 

»You don't want to know« Katsu had hissed, snatching his wrist to free himself, but this was Sanosuke, probably the strongest fist-fighter in the whole of Japan, not intending to give way.

 

»True« the roosterheaded man had whispered, with a lopsided smile, »but I need to know. I can't stand the pain in your eyes, Katsu. Talk to me, please.«

 

His brother averted his view, struggling to decide whether to confide in Sanosuke, or fend him off, refuse to share his memories.

 

Then, the fistfighter had, without considering his actions, done like Saitou himself... he had caressed the slightly elder man, held him tight, hugging and cradling the tense body till Katsu's resistance had worn out.

 

Hoarsely whispering of his haunted childhood, barely avoiding getting raped by pretending to look haggard and sick, hiding his beauty away, paying for shelter by rendering oral affections.

 

One sentence still echoed in Sanosuke's recollection of their conversation, »I've lost count of the cocks I sucked, but there must have been more than faces I've seen in my life.«

 

Cursing fate, he had never wished that strong to alter the course of time… to find his brother after the traitorous murder of their comrades and their taichou, to fight the despicable men who yearned to molest a small, delicate, spirited child like his brother!

 

But Katsu would not hear of that, snuggling closer to him, like harboring the rare experience of loving care from another human being, without having to pay a dear price.

 

»Promise me«, he kept on whispering to his younger brother, »promise, Sano, not to confuse sex with affection!

It's a lethal poison to enslave you, blindfold your common sense and your self-esteem!

Please, Sano, do not fall for that trap!«

 

Of course, he had vowed seriously, he would never ever surrender, he would run free.

 

Kissing the tearstained face of his beloved brother, he had smiled encouragingly.

 

There was nothing he could not accomplish on his own!

 

Another very good reason to end this infuriating fuss with that f'... damn bastard of Meiji lackey!

 

Fight the wolf, kick ass, make old bastard cop kiss his ass, sign out, get back to Katsu, hang around at the doujou for the marriage to find a decent, smart girl for his brother... he opted a woman could take better care of the painter, treat him nice, nurse his pain.

 

And then, eventually, he would leave good ol' Japan to see the world... maybe leaving out China.

The prison cells were not too delightful, after all.

 

                                                ~ð~

 

I'm going to kill him... very soon.

 

Idiot.

 

Fool.

 

Damn rooster.

 

No sense of self- preservation.

 

Walks right in, oblivious to everything around... wonder how he grew that old...

 

Can't even memorize my orders.

 

Next time, I have to try on sketches....

 

Can't you smell the gunpowder, dumbass?!

 

Maybe... maybe they won't go for him...

 

The wolf howled menacingly inside.

 

Roosters were just another prey, after all.

 

Tasty, but soon forgotten.

 

                                                ~ð~

 

Striding through bushes, Sanosuke followed a path that looked strangely well used.... instantly, his senses yelled on alarm, he halted with a frown.

 

Damn... something was wrong...and he had been too occupied with his sorrow to realize in time!

 

Breathing deeply, he focused... darn! A lot of people hanging around here... and one spot without any ki-response at all... no good.

Definitely.

 

A trap?

 

Designed for him, or...?

 

Fuck!!

Obviously, the chewed parts of the message had been important, too.

 

Now, what to do?

 

Ninja- guys? Foreigners? Rurounis? Robbers?

 

Gnaaah!!

 

"Get out, you fucking suckers!!", he roared, his former self, Zanza, showing up, "let's kick ass!! I'm waiting, you dickheads!", hitting his mighty fists together, he tensed his body, gliding into his preferred fighting stance.

 

Too much trouble clouding your view was meant to be washed off by heartily enjoyed brawling!

 

                                                ~ð~

 

If he had been a lesser man, a man of low discipline and patience, of little endurance and tolerance, he would have sighed deeply.

 

But he was the wolf of Mibu, the last of his infamous, undefeatable pack.

 

He did not care for anything but his own justice.

 

Aku Soku Zan.

 

Kill evil instantly.

 

Damn messy work to fish out the only stubbornly 'good' meddler in the battle!

 

                                                ~ð~

 

Some things just did not go with proper fighting!

Like those damn guns!

 

Sanosuke spun, hitting home, kicking, attacking, withdrawing, a lethal dance of determination and rage.

 

He did not even know one of that damn thugs, why were they so keen on killing him?!

 

"Will you get out, you sissy old bastard of Shinsengumi?!", one of them roared, the dark eyes clouded with madness and some drug, Sanosuke guessed.

 

So, they wanted Saitou?!

 

But Saitou would never... he would never come for me!

 

"Yo, dumbasses..."

 

A gun pointed right at his heart, just some inches away.

 

Oh fuck...

 

                                                ~ð~

 

It had been some time since he had performed this stunt... literally a life ago, when he was a small, constantly furious kid, angry at the stupidity of his environment.

 

Running wild in the forest, climbing mountains, chasing his own food, becoming the fearsome hunter he had grown up to be.

 

He could charge like no one else, as fast as lightning even with his tall figure.

 

His ki radiated like a sulphurous, arctic sun, absorbing the energy and willpower of his foes.

 

Now, he had to rely on his old skills... to fly for that foolish rooster.

 

                                                ~ð~

 

Nobody could be as stupid as count on Saitou's mercy...he was the wolf of Mibu after all!!

 

Evil enforcer of his law, wicked, mean cop from hell!

 

No way this would work... although it felt rather demeaning to be shot because of that damn bastard!

 

This is all his fault!

Since I lost my bandana to him, I'm running out of luck!!

 

Getting furious, rampaging recklessly, he charged for everyone in close range, never to give in, never to doubt, never to regret!

 

                                                ~ð~

 

Just great.

 

If that damn moron would have acted like the usual dumbass, gaping and waiting for another series of his creative cursing to come up... but no!

 

If his stupid skull had not been that infuriatingly thick (and dense), he could have knocked him out...but this option failed, too.

 

Too late anyways.

 

Attacking with blinding speed, Saitou grabbed his famous katana with both hands, the shiny blade scything through the air, bushes, twigs, flesh and bones, spiralling, pushing away from trunks or soon-to-be-corpses, flying high to spin his beast of burden out of the gun's pointed aim.

 

Sensing the pulling of the trigger.

 

Smelling the stinging gun- powder.

 

The swirl of violently torn-apart air.

 

The raging fury of his inflaming ki, a feral howl of frustration.

 

Finally, the impact.

 

                                                ~ð~

 

Suddenly, there was a tense, sturdy body holding him tight in a spinning motion, a strong arm encircling his slim waist, twin stars of blinding sulphurous venom darting into his eyes, the arrogant admonishing twist of corners, sported by a pair of thin lips, the overwhelming sensation of disapproval.

 

Saitou.

 

The world still kept turning around before his dazzled eyes, causing him to blink, from the dull shadows of the forest to the icy flames of hell.

 

The unduly confrontation with a very persistent tree brought an end to the dream-like quality of his rendez- vous with the evil enforcer of his own law.

 

While Sanosuke fell to the ground, cursing and rubbing his aching front, namely nose and forehead, the wolf whirled around, baring his mighty fangs,

the

canines blinking in ivory bestiality.

 

Still some left... tsk tsk.

 

The wolf within growled lowly, the echo thundering the slender man's throat to render the surviving opponents shiver in ancient fear.

 

Let's hunt, shall we?

 

                                                ~ð~

 

There was blood... not uncommonly, since he had been fighting pretty hard, but this... touching his shoulder while keeping his head down, the fistfighter frowned intrigued.

 

His beloved jacket messed up, but not ripped, leading to the conclusion.... Saitou must have been injured!

 

Regarding the venomous glare of the elder swordfighter, Sanosuke opted for waiting the battle out... he did not like to have his intestines displayed before him.

 

As he had to recognise, Saitou did not flinch from guts and gore, killing swiftly, without pity or doubt.

 

But... he did fly like some damn ninja... Sanosuke felt a huge grin split his face in halves!

Mocking dull Aoshi with his sneaky acts, and right now the famous Mr. Aku Soku Zan adapted ninja skills!!

 

Daring to get out of his shelter, the roosterheaded young man looked out for his nemesis.

 

"Yo, Saitou, sorry about dashing in, that idiot Chou accidentally ate your message... well, parts of it", scratching his nape, a lopsided, enticing grin came to view, meant to charm the wolf of Mibu.

 

Currently cleaning the blade of his katana with a gi of a dying aggressor.

 

"We'll get you, Goro Fujita or Hajime Saitou, not matter what", a painful hiss, agony slowing down the pronunciation, "you will not outrun your fate.

Your birthday today will be your day of eternal doom."

 

"Yare yare", Saitou retorted in his usual arrogant way, stabbing the man, "rot in hell, dumbass!"

 

"Man, you'd better read that", getting up from his knees, the fist-fighter presented a leaflet to the officer, spotted with blood.

 

The amber eyes narrowed while deciphering the columns, accompanied by a rough sketch of his own features.

 

"Tsk tsk", he commented haughtily, searching his pockets for a cigarette and matches.

 

With his left hand.

 

"By the way, you're wounded", Sanosuke inspected the flyer once again, crooking a brow, "say, it's your birthday today?!"

 

"No", the elder man retorted briskly, finally illuming his cigarette, walking to fetch a gun.

 

"But they are revealing everything about you! Your true identity... damn, if this goes around, you're in a hell of trouble", the rooster-headed fist-fighter stated agitated, "don't walk about like it's nothing!

Here, it says, they even cursed your birthday!

This is serious shit, man!"

 

A cold look of disapproval hit him like an arctic breeze.

 

"Don't be daft, moron, that's just superstition.

Now, move your lazy ass over here and snatch the powder bag", he ordered, every inch his arrogant self, untarnished by the dooming prospect of a lethal curse.

 

"Why don't you fucking get your damn bag yourself?!", Sanosuke roared, already vexed by the high and mighty attitude of his worst nightmare, "and give back my bandana, so I can kick your ugly ass and quit!"

 

A short snort, presumably humorous, then, to his utter amazement, Saitou opened his uniform attire to snatch a cloth... dripping with blood.

 

"Damn!! Now look at this!! You asshole!! You soiled my bandana!!", Sanosuke snatched his favourite strap to inspect it furiously.

 

"The colour was already fading, and I'm absolutely certain your close friend, the redheaded twerp, will know how to clean it", the wolf growled undisturbedly, pointing with his katana at the fist-fighter's jugular, "now, if you're so prudent...", he teased smugly.

 

"Fuck fuck fuck!", Sanosuke could not refrain from muttering, getting down again to collect the bag with the gunpowder.

 

With utter disgust he wrung his bandana with one hand, while the other still presented his catch, "now, what? Won't you take it?!", he asked testily.

 

"No", Saitou took a deep draught of nicotine, the amber eyes sparkling intently, "you'll rip my shirt and cover the wound with the powder, understood?"

 

Blinking, Sanosuke gaped, before grinning triumphantly.

 

"I knew, one day I'm gonna tear your greasy uniform apart and have my ways with you!", he beamed, to focus on his task, becoming serious again.

 

"Damn, Saitou, this looks rather bad... your clothes are already soaked... can you still move your fingers, say?", he inquired, to get a rapid smack to his head.

 

"Hey, asshole, what's that for?!", glaring, he backed off, his fists ready to pay a visit somewhere above Saitou's collar- line.

 

"Stop acting like that fox lady, fool, and get on! I don't have all day!", the wolf retorted with a scornful reproach.

 

"Fine, you bastard! Hope, you blow up!", angrily shaking the powder, Sanosuke paced off, grumbling about the disgrace of his bandana, now and then glimpsing at the former Shinsengumi who stood next to a tree for support, sucking his cigarette before dipping it right into the wound.

 

Sanosuke gaped in terror.

 

The horrible smell of burnt flesh caught his numb senses, without hesitation, he crossed the distance, grabbing the other man by his left arm, "you're crazy! Look at that mess...Don't you dare!", he pinned the remaining fist to the tree, blazing rage meeting icy annoyance.

 

"You're so damn thickheaded I can't believe my eyes! Ye gods, don't act all samurai- style! You're fussy like a brat!", Sanosuke complained, without further ado taking his bandana between his teeth while his left hand untied the bandages around his waist.

 

To his mild surprise, Saitou leant back, refusing to resist, which rendered the rooster-headed fighter to work without further disturbance, carefully peel the soiled jacket and ripped shirt from the ivory skin, to cover the wound with the bandages, finally take off his brother's bandana to bind a sling for the injured right arm of Saitou.

 

"What about that leaflet? Your ass on the hook, no da?", casually the fistfighter went on, blinking confused strands out of his eyelashes.

 

"Hn."

 

"Wow, you're as talkative as ever. Hey, you did not tell me about your birthday!", amazingly, the swordfighter's left hand came up to comb the unruly locks away, "none of your business."

 

"So it's true?!", Sanosuke stood back, inspecting his work admiringly.

 

"No. Those idiots", a kick to a corpse, "don't know legend from lie."

 

"So", scratching his nape, the fistfighter summed up, "it's not your true birthday but... Goro Fujita's?", he hazarded, grinning lopsidedly.

 

"Exactly. Now, get moving."

 

"But, hey, when is your birthday? Hu? Com'on, old man, I might give you a present!", Sanosuke lured, batting his eyelashes violently, mimicking a flirting maiden... which was lost on Saitou or any spectator due to his long strands, blocking his eyes.

 

"Darn", he muttered, blewing air up to lift the blinding curtain, "that reminds me of your "gift" to my birthday last month..", glaring at the wolf, he stood the malicious sparkle in the amber fires, "come on.... wait a sec", a smug

 

 

 

 

grin slowly sneaked its way to Sanosuke's smirking lips.

 

"Kenshin told me you've elder brothers and sisters... so if you're named Hajime, it means you're born in January, right? Right?!

Ha, I guessed right, I bet!

And fitting, because you're one cold- hearted, frosty bastard of a nuisance!", a fist hit his jaw with grim force.

 

Still smiling, Sanosuke kept his stance, massaging the ill-treated bones.

 

"Now, I might be late for this year, old man, but I'll get you... before some other assholes can!

I challenge your for our duel!

One fist each man!"

 

Narrowing the amber eyes to mere slits, Saitou turned his head, growling lowly, a warning sound.

 

Carelessly flicking his cigarette away, causing Sanosuke to complain, "yo, this is dangerous...", then, the fistfighter's chocolate- coloured eyes widened, accompanied by strenuous sniffing.

 

"... fuck", he swore slowly, "they really want you to roast in hell...", and now, with the soft breeze turning, the hiss of consuming flames could not be mistaken.

 

Dry trees, bare from the winter, covered with old leaves.... mingled with the sting of oil...

 

"Say", Saitou mimicked Sanosuke's casual questioning with a tight grin, "how fast can you run, rooster?"

 

                                                ~ð~

 

The flames went fast, greedily feasting, springing from branch to branch, hissing in sparks, spreading rapidly, a huge wall of sucking fire, dancing an infernal rhythm, covering the moaning ache of the forest, the panicky animals, caught inbetween, suffocating or burning alive.

 

Both men kept on fleeing, climbing up a small hill, sporting some rocks and fewer trees.

 

The sky went already missing, dark shades of poisonous smoke slowly drifted through the air, blackening everything in their course.

 

The wolf fend down the urge to howl in rage, to charge, no matter what, while the human cursed his mistake, not considering his enemies to make use of fire, not caring for the consequences.

 

Adding, he felt thrills of cold run his veins... lack of blood was straining him out.

 

Can't give in, won't give in.

 

He had still the lead, the younger man at his heels, coughing violently, almost blinded by the tears.

 

I'll survive, and then, I'll get you, one by one.

 

Grabbing the fistfighter's right hand with his own left, he indicated to a huge tree, towering the little hill amongst others.

 

>Get up<, he mouthed, maybe there would be some fresh air.

 

                                                ~ð~

 

Delicate.... very delicate, the balance he had to keep.

 

Climbing up that darn tree had been rather trying, for Saitou, his tormentor and cause of constant headache, nearly passed out on their journey to the top, already in disadvantage being one- handed.

 

Grabbing the other man, adjusting in the top branches, he hugged Saitou to fix their joint unit to the trunk, swearing under his breath.

 

If the fire did jump the hill, their last resort was lost.... and there he was, likely medium done, soiled and tired, with an injured, self- conceited Meiji cop in his arms!

 

Who... simply snarled and sank into deep slumber!!

 

Can you believe it?!

 

Sanosuke sighed.

 

"Man, you never cease to freak me out", he whispered thoughtfully, snuggling closer, strangely relieved that, in company with the invincible Hajime Saitou, he could just get out alive... maybe.

 

                                                          ~ð~

 

The fog- like quality of the thick smoke lingered on, marking the funeral of a forest, keeping investigators off... and, due to the "camouflage" of dark filth, both men remained close to invisible in the top of their hideout, resembling another bunch of coaled branches.

 

While his elder comrade had been sleeping, the ebony strands flying due to the immense heat from the burning ground, Sanosuke had been busy tying them up with his own garment, to prevent a fatal sudden descent.

 

"Fine... just great, now we'll have to spend the night up here", he muttered hoarsely, his throat raw, his skin like sandpaper, freckled with sticky soot.

 

"Nice...how come I'm into the hugest heap of shit whenever I cross your way?!", he complained, wiping clingy strands out of his eyes, almost ready to cut them off.

 

"Yare yare", unexpectedly the wolf retorted, the amber eyes enflaming in a stained face, "you're constantly bragging about your adventurous life, so I'm rendering you a service, fool!", a frown wrinkled the haggard face, "what is this supposed to be?!"

 

Sitting up nonchalantly, Sanosuke spit on his palm to rub the meager fluid, and, unbelievable!! -clean the other man's face from the black remnants of smoke, "I had to fix you somehow, because you insisted on snoring away up here!

So don't blame me.... now, pretty again, aren't we?!", the rooster-headed fighter beamed an impish grin, ruffling the loose ebony strands shading the glaring sulphurous twin-stare.

 

"Untie me at once", the cop ordered, the sonorous voice growling of menace and hardly suppressed annoyance.

 

"Nah, old man", the fist-fighter patted benevolently a tense cheek, "and don't stress your injury, Saitou, I had to rely on my beloved bandana to nurse the wound.

So, no fussing, understood?", he winked mischievously, mimicking paternal supervision.

 

Leaning back to the sturdy trunk, a leg bent to his comfort, as he was resting in his worn out loincloth, the infamous jacket stained with soot, chewing his cheek, lost in thought.

 

"See, we're lucky up here, the ground's still too darn hot to go down, it's getting dark, and those assholes won't check for our roasted corpses before dawn.

Man, do you realize that this tree is scorched up till here?

Fucking close..."

 

"Hn. Good choice, then", another, not very subtle tries to free himself followed the evil enforcer's brisk consent.

 

"Hey, Saitou, stop that, will ya?!

I don't know how much weight the branches can take with the fire!", Sanosuke yelled, glaring at the stoic face of his brother-in-trouble.

 

"Why don't you stop whining, chickenbrain, you're a rooster, so you can fly, if we're going down.

Now, if we're staying here, get me my cigarettes", the former Shinsengumi snarled, uncaring for their fragile disposition at all.

 

Ruffling his own mop of unruly dark brown hair, Sanosuke uttered a profanity, "yeah, old cricket man, why don't cha smoke up here and toss the butts down, damage already done, right?!"

 

Crawling agilely to the lying man, he towered him on all fours, grinning maliciously, "well, so sorry, old pal, but cigarettes are out."

 

A mean snort left the pressed lips, the amber eyes narrowed to promise serious, lasting torture for being obnoxious and smug like that.

 

Sanosuke winked mockingly, turned his head to watch out for the setting sun, "damn, it's going to be cold up here... any plans for tomorrow yet?

Like how we're going to sneak out without getting roasted or shot?"

 

"Where is my katana?", ignoring the young man's questions, the wolf pressed his ki - sensing to the utmost... no echo?!

 

"Which one?", smirking, Sanosuke straddled, leaning down with crossed arms to inspect the haughty stare closer, resting his chin on his arms.

 

"Don't play your silly games with me, Sagara", the wolf hissed, baring his impressive fangs, the canines gleaming even in the twilight of the dying sun.

 

The big, chocolate-colored eyes became sober, sitting up and banning strands behind his ears, the fist-fighter tensed slightly, "well, I had to decide whether to catch you or your sword when you passed out.

Sorry, Saitou."

 

Several heartbeats passed before the wolf of Mibu closed his eyes for one instant, breathing very slowly.

 

When his eyelids lifted again, the sulphurous gleam cut as bright and arctic as lightning, untarnished, razor- sharp, "get off me, fool."

 

"No."

 

Aggressive staring, pressing lips, grinding teeth.

 

Tensing limbs, probing their muscled strength.

 

The first cold breeze announcing the approach of nighttime, causing Sanosuke to shiver slightly.

 

Decision made, he leant down, embracing the growling wolf, ruffling until he was satisfied in cuddling to Saitou's spreadout and tied frame, "stop being grumpy, old man, I won't toy around with anything."

 

"You're smelling, dirty and you're soiling my wound", the cop insisted on resistance, a low series of threatening sounds.

 

"You're smelling as bad as me, big bad wolfie, you're covered with soot, and I am not meddling with your injury, see, I'm ways off on your left side!

If you'd just stop fidgeting, everyone would be happy around here", he added with a malicious, chiding suggestion of improvement.

 

"I'm going to get you...!!", the officer hissed, tossing about, alas, the knots and fabric of Sanosuke's trousers withstood his efforts.

 

"You already had me", the young man answered matter-of-factly, resting his head at the left shoulder, his eyelashes caressing the soft skin of Saitou's neck, while Sanosuke's left hand carefully cupped the bandaged injury, "now we both have a scar there... matching pair, cute, ne, sweetheart?", he teased, chuckling.

 

"Damn, get off already, I'm not in the mood!", the cop spat, turning away his head despitefully.

 

"No, I won't, it's freezing cold, and you owe me a challenge, old man."

 

Rising to straddle again, he caught the gnashing jaws with both hands, staring into the orbs of sulphurous doom, sparkling peril, condemning his sole existence.

 

"I play along your rules, copper, so don't act all chick-y", he flashed a taunting grin, "no kinky stuff with your dear virginity up here, anyways", the fistfighter added, nestling again, snuggling to create a cozy warmth from friction.

 

"Just loosen up, Saitou, willya?", he pecked the frowning officer on the forehead, sighing as he sank back, closing his eyes, aching from the smoke.

 

"Why did you send for me, old cricket- face?

Looks like you intended to off the bunch on your own, greedy old sucker", he smirked as a low growl echoed through his body.

 

"You were supposed to clean up, imbecile! Can't you even read a message properly?", the wolf grumbled, still uncomfortable and yearning for his usual doses of nicotine.

 

"Told ya already, fucking broomie munched your love-letter", far from being vexed, the young man replied, designing leisurely patterns with his fingertip on the soot- covered ivory skin of Saitou's torso.

 

A low grunt of disapproval.

 

Silence.

 

"You spelled it wrong, ignorant", a low growl of impatience, "one would assume you know at least the insults by heart", the wolf gnashed syllables.

 

Sanosuke chuckled, amused, rubbing his unruly mob of locks to cheek and neck of his companion, "you're cute when you're grumpy, you know that?

Makes me wanna hit on you", he fondled, smirking in the falling darkness.

 

"I will hit on you, idiot, and you're not going to remember, on account of being dead", Saitou hissed in sonorous rage, probing the bondages again.

 

"No use, old man", with a low grunt of impatience, the fist-fighter allowed his fingers to travel the other man's slender frame, from narrow hips up to the shoulders, a leisurely pastime.

 

As he listened to the steady heartbeat, humming in his own body, focusing on the sensation beneath his fingertips, grinding soot to mix with amazingly smooth skin, black- white landscapes, a picture came to view in his private resort, securely hidden away from the object of his loathed desires.

 

So close, yet definitely out of reach...

 

I could play along.... like he did... well, somewhat limited if I don't want to fly high and go down low... but I'd like to hunt low....

 

Stop that!!, with a disgusted snarl, Sanosuke turned his head to the other side, facing the night.

 

Can he read my thoughts?

My body?

Damn...

 

I don't want this.... but now I'll have the courage to confront him....

I can do it!

 

I will do it!!

 

Gritting his teeth, he gathered every last resort of strength, stamina and defiance.

 

Fuck chances, who wants to live forever anyways?!

 

                                                ~ð~

 

Despite the clinging young man and the sticky layer of soot, the wolf felt his senses coming to constant alert, sharpening, diffuse particles of his nature falling into the polished shape of an arrow, fired long time ago to burn the darkness with an arctic fire of justice.

 

And with his strong senses, his ki improved, to render the tall man a being beyond human limits, the amber eyes glaring into the night, distinguishing properly every silhouette, smell the torched wood, the burnt animals, the lazy breeze, tinted with human stink.... so they were really waiting to check out for his corpse.

 

Clever... for a bunch of thugs.

 

His fangs bared in anticipation, willing to run free, hunt his prey, watch their silly, boasting camp close to the destroyed forest, and then, attack.

 

Fast as lightning, and just as purifying.

 

His muscles tensed, preparing to form his movements to lupine grace, yet being fixed to a mighty branch.

 

The bark scraped his bare spine as he probed the limits.

 

The cloth resisted, surprisingly, keeping him tight to the wood, his hips bound like his left arm... he could free his right arm, of course, but the loss of blood might cause his fall to become too risky...

 

The wolf within growled a loathing complaint, never fearing, straightforward like his vocation, daring and succeeding, but the human part insisted on resting and calming down, waiting patiently.

 

Alas, this part required the stinging smell of tobacco, the poison of civilization, the drug of ratio - nicotine.

 

Which he lacked, unfortunately.

 

He had to tame the wolf, to keep it occupied, stop the constant pacing and growling, the impulsive snapping of mighty fangs.

 

His vision cleared, leaving the obscure blur of human weakness, the fur rose to static charge, displaying the high- voltage beneath, a perfectly trimmed beast.

 

Suddenly, the damn rooster nestled too close, his heartbeat confused the melody of predatory lust, the soft breath tingled at his skin... gnashing his teeth, he fought the urging desire to throw the fistfighter off, no matter what!

 

A nuisance, a burden, disposable luggage on a journey!

 

Calm down, he hissed at the wolf, we will not accomplish anything if we rush into action!

 

It's his ridiculous effort to make up with me, don't bother!

 

Just a common fool, a mere ruffian, of no importance at all.

 

Don't care for his awkward touch, the clumsy attempts of seduction, the illusion of loving attraction.

 

He snorted disapprovingly, making use of sentiments could be very resourceful, pragmatic directing, emotional manipulation, rarely the weapons of choice although the officer did not mind very much.

 

The wolf beneath growled impatiently, barely comprehensible wasting of energy and time, in his opinion, the regrettable flaw of humans, leading to failure.

 

Be not mistaken, he disagreed with his feral nature, we have to rely on everything, act with cunning slyness to attain our goals.

 

Our honour is the instantly killing of evil, no matter what.

 

Why bothering with a brash youngster who traced his fingers along his sides, tickling sensations on his trail, a pattern of goose- pumps, conquering the mighty wolf's blank torso?

 

No need to care for those draughts of flaming breath, mingling with his own, the unresting movements, a grinding motion to arise the heat, steaming from both bodies!

 

Those impish whispers, pitiful efforts to flatter and seduce him, the velvety voice husky making strenuous confirmations... suddenly, he did not approve his challenge anymore, neither the rules which forced him to endure.

 

Bondages of cloth and honour, keeping him down.

 

                                                ~ð~

 

"I come to adore your face, wolfie", Sanosuke sizzled the ivory skin with soft kisses, daringly smiling into cold amber eyes, narrowed, piercing his own, chocolate-coloured one's.

 

"And I never imagined your hair would be that long without that greasy stuff", he combed the shiny ebony strands from tip to end, confusing them to create a dark corona around the frowning, haggard face.

 

"Wonder how it must have been felt to tend it", he dipped his tongue to draw a wet semi- circle along the hairline, from temple to temple, his breath burning the skin, "you wore it the samurai-style, no da? How long? To your waist?"

 

As he was not redeemed with an answer, the spikyhaired man continued to shower his affection across the sturdy torso, travelling muscles, sucking the arousingly dark tinted nipples, one by one.

 

Staring down, the bound body beneath trembling a mere bit, Saitou's expression still cold, almost loathing.

 

Yes... Sanosuke became serious, downcasted... no way he could win that contest ever.

The evil enforcer's challenge based on pretended emotions, feigned affection, a tour de force to make believe he cared.

An illusion.

 

Sitting back, straddling, his hands residing on the swordfighter's ribcage, sensing bones and flesh, the rush of blood, the thunderous heartbeat, he knew he had lost.

Again.

 

Closing his eyes one moment, his unruly locks entangled with his eyelashes, he grinned lopsidedly.

 

Never give in... never regret... never betray.

If you can't fight it, flee it... show your proud back, don't hide away.

 

I won't hide, I won't lie.

 

Facing Saitou, who stared icy, Sanosuke smiled, patting a haggard cheek admiringly.

 

"You're name's rather fitting, did you realize?", he bent low, sighing sonorously, "Haaa-jime", his tongue tickled the wolf's earlobe, echoing with his melancholic complaint.

 

"Moron", the former Shinsengumi grumbled, suspiciously turning his head

off,

but Sanosuke did not share further affections, sitting up.

 

"You know that I can't win your game, 'Jime", he addressed the elder officer calmly, "you count on my straightforwardness, don'tcha?

I'm no pretender, what you see is what you get... or already got.

I came to admire you for all that you are, for making me hate you so much", the regular, strong eyebrows met under a frown, "and I won't charm and flatter you to win a contest which does not mean anything to me."

 

Pausing, Sanosuke tilted his pointy chin up, his gaze embracing the starspangled sky, his nostrils filled with the cold night's breeze.

 

His expression changed, slightly, in minute details, rendering the young fist-fighter mysteriously experienced and composed.

 

His big eyes found the amber glare once again, pitch-black seas of obsidian.

 

"There's something I yearn for since I met you, Hajime Saitou, wolf of Mibu.

It's vitally important to me, and now is the time to make my day with you.. or rather night", he grinned without a trace of humor.

 

Leaning closer, his arms resting crossed at the swordfighter's chest, he inspected the elder man quietly, "I know you take me for a fool, a simpleton, and in many ways, I am.

But I made it this far, I am a warrior of my own vocation and I challenge you to fight me.

Warrior to warrior.

And now I will make sure you have no reason to flee me anymore.

You will fight me, the way I want you to."

 

                                                ~ð~

 

The wolf within growled menacingly, the fur sizzling on alert, baring its fangs, desiring to probe his strong canines at the blank neck, sinking deep into the bronze-colored, delicate skin, pierce muscles and sinews to draw blood, taste its coppery quality.

 

The darn rooster had something on his mind, something it did not like at all, and the wolf blamed the human part of their joint nature for the consequences.

 

They were still tied, at waist's level, to that damn branch, strong enough to support the weight of two tall, well- built men, although the bark had been torched.

 

Shut up! Hajime Saitou's calculated, sly human part ordered his feral nature, no use in complaining and blaming!

 

So, maybe he had mistaken the rooster for the chicken-brained fool he seemed to be, although there had been loads of evidence to this consideration, almost every proof he had never asked for, but... but! just maybe, the rooster had been a tiny, minute bit smarter than he had expected.

 

Or he was just lucky in guessing... fucking gamblers!

Well, let's see if he can take the risk... I wonder what he's at?!

 

Chances topped that the fool would be backing off, cursing and brawling, the common teenage idiot... but somehow, something was amiss... he must have missed a hint to miscalculate the result of his taunting and molesting...

 

Whatever he might come up with, I will make him pay dear.

 

And now, there's no fucking, meddling battousai anymore...

 

                                                ~ð~

 

There are times when everything just falls into place, suddenly, you can see clearly the whole picture, like a jigsaw done.

 

Every time they had met since their first encounter, Saitou had won, making proof that his spikyhaired opponent was nothing worth to a true fighter.

 

A man of the bakumatsu.

A warrior.

 

Just some brawling chicken, slightly improving, but stubborn, silly and completely brainless.

 

Well, sometimes he had managed to cause a certain surprised flicker into that maliciously beautiful amber eyes, like stopping Saitou's fist with both hands, like surviving the duel with Anji.

 

But then again, the wolf had mastered him so many times, mentally, physically, sexually...he could never win this eternal struggle, could he?

 

Because I've been playing the Meiji- rules, acting like there was something to lose.

 

Because I agreed with him too many times, judging myself to be less worthy an opponent than Kenshin.

 

This will end, here and now.

 

I've been struggling to stay alive on my own after the murder of my taichou, I've been fighting every second since then, angry, always angry, my fists clutched even while sleeping, ready to fly, to make them pay.

 

Them, who made me leave my family, who killed my taichou, who slaughtered my trust in humankind, who proved their cold bastard-minds at every place I traveled to.

 

I can't defeat them all, I can't see a bright future for everyone alike no more.

 

There's no hope for me to have a family of my own, to get a profession, to live peacefully.

 

Because I'm still angry.

 

It lingers, deep in my soul, makes me restless, daring, bold.

 

Moving on, meddling, taking sides, hitting, fighting.

 

Just like you.

 

Admittedly, it took some time till I realised who you are, Hajime Saitou, wolf of Mibu.

 

The silly- looking, pea- brained officer Goro Fujita with his greasy grin.

 

The cold- hearted, calculating, maliciously smirking Hajime Saitou, former third captain of the Shinsengumi, archenemy of the battousai.

 

The proud wolf of Mibu, the last surviving member of his pack, with his sulphurous amber stare of peril, his mighty strong fangs, invincible and a letally beautiful beast.

 

Playing along the Meiji- rules, I met Fujita and sometimes Saitou.

 

I never met the wolf within.

 

Yet, I saw it in your eyes, the spark, when you were fighting with Kenshin, or, to be correct about it, the battousai.

 

First and last time I ever realised how angry, how passionate you could be.

 

Do you know that you were smiling, truly enjoying yourself?

 

Now, I want to see you smile while fighting me, I want you to be that passionate, that fast, that cunning and daring.

 

Giving everything you own and are, in every move, without regrets, without limits or restrictions.

 

And I will meet you with all my heart, my soul and my skills.

 

So, I have to play the Bakumatsu- rules, you see?

 

And since you would never ever consider me to be evil enough to meet your standards of worthy prey, I have to make you hate me.

 

Have you feel the same as me.

 

Of course, you won't need a year to realise the true intentions underneath it all.

 

There's no option, no way out...

 

                                                ~ð~

 

A sick feeling of unreality overpowered Saitou while watching the swift, cold motions of the younger man, undressing him completely, taking off his own famous jacket and his loincloth, to tie the officer up securely at chest's level.

 

Spreading the muscled legs, a sudden spasm of fear encountered the former Shinsengumi's lean body, he started to struggle violently, hissing and growling.

 

He would not dare to...?!

 

Without further ado, Sanosuke slapped him with calculated vigor, making use of Saitou's slightly dizzy condition to gag him.

 

Bent his parted legs to tie them up with both loincloths, his aim clear: returning the favor.

 

The wolf soaked the gag with its saliva, angry to frenzy, struggling, fighting, tossing, to no use.

 

There were hits and slaps, to keep them down, human and beast, then, the strong fists opened, to caress both groins simultaneously, in a businesslike manner.

 

Evoking sexual yearning, lust, carnal desire.

 

Stroke by stroke, the usually chocolate- coloured eyes dark, blank, confused strands blinding the roosterheaded fighter, he worked his way to render both men panting, rushing their pulses.

 

Sucking his index finger, Sanosuke refused to caress a tense cheek, meeting hatred and peril, piercing his lean frame cowering over the bound man.

 

I won't demean you, 'jime, by pretending to act in love and retaliation, or flatter the crime I'm about to commit with tender affection.

 

This is to make you hate me with all your heart and soul.

 

                                                ~ð~

 

One part in his raging, poisoned brain still argued to remain relaxed, to calm down, in order to prevent being hurt by the rape.

 

There was no use in refusing, fighting back, he had to endure being penetrated, the sharp pain of his violently torn muscles, the numb feeling of his heart, the rapidly increasing pace of violating his rear.

 

He arched, cringed, gasped, hissed, trembled... to no use at all.

 

So he really... fucks me.

 

The mere concept of being raped by Sanosuke Sagara, the obnoxious, good-natured, foolish roosterheaded punk silenced the elder man, freezing his mind to standstill.

 

He's doing it, right now, idiot, wake up!, the wolf snarled, impatient, hurt, frantic.

 

Alas, they were tied up, weak from the loss of blood, shocked and repeatedly beat up when the resistance became too bold to Sanosuke's opinion.

 

Does he desire for this?, the paralysed part of Saitou's mind operated stubbornly, just lust and revenge?

 

I'm going to kill him!

Slow, painful and cruel!

 

He will pay for making us endure this humiliation!

We can take agony, we will be patient.

 

Then, we will strike back.

Torture him.

Chop his limbs apart.

No one alive can treat us like that.

 

You'll die, Sanosuke Sagara.

 

                                                ~ð~

 

In spite the night's cold breeze, Sanosuke was sweating heavily, his breath fled laboriously, cowering over Saitou.

 

Three times already... his body ached to the stressed effort, but he was not done yet...much to his desperation and distress.

 

The wolf panted, gaged, the cloth soaked with saliva and blood, the amber eyes tinted red, furious to madness, his torso covered with sweat and scratches.

 

Yes, I've been tormenting him... bruises everywhere, bloodstaines, injuries... squeezing the nipples till they shone in purple, tearing at strands and the pubic locks, grinding, pecking scrotum and testicles.

 

Only one time still, and he's done...please, kamisama, let him faint already!

 

He had not dared to bite, fearing, his lips would betray him, kissing away the pain he had caused, damned to curse and swear incessantly, muttering profanities.

 

Now mumbling prayers.

 

Please, anyone, please, make him give in....

 

Once again, he hit the bruised flesh and inner parts of Saitou very hard, tearing at the already stretched muscles, pounding like mad, a steady, mechanically rhythm, in- out, without emotional engagement.

 

No desire, no lust, just desperation.

 

I damn wish it was over.... he's bleeding everywhere, even from within... dear Gods, make him pass out, please, I beg you!

 

Tears mixed with the layer of sweat and blood, dripping from the young man's cheeks.

 

'Jime, give in already, damn, don't be so thickheaded!

You don't have to endure it consciously!

 

Helplessly, out- worn, Sanosuke finally opted to hit Saitou repeatedly across his temples, until the officer closed his amber eyes with a muffled sigh.

 

Then, at the top of a torched tree, sinking at the tortured body of a hated soulmate, the roosterheaded fighter started to sob violently, his spasms shaking the entire wood to the earth deep beneath them.

 

                                                ~ð~

 

A short rest, to no effect at all, due to his desperate condition, and with the first beams of sun, Sanosuke woke up, checking on Saitou's state of health.

 

The bleedings had stopped, but the ivory skin shone in several colors of bruises, mixed with soot and sweat.

 

Carefully untying limb after limb, only to tie them together, the fist-fighter managed to free Saitou from the branch, parts of the bark clinging to the spine of the elder man.

 

Turning, he fixed the limp body at his back, thankfully, Saitou was still unconscious, and climbed down the tree, ripping his skin at the torched tree.

 

Reaching the ground, he had to take a break, panting laboriously, his roaming sight finding the missing katana.

 

Snatching his burden and the sword, he made his way carefully across the burnt forest, not minding the corpses of animals, the remnants of bushes and trees.

 

The earth was still hot from the fire, burning his feet, but he did not mind, since the temperature created lingering mist in connection with the cold dew of the early morning.

 

Thus masked, he stood a good chance to pass the guards who were presumably waiting to stalk the forest and search for two corpses, not expecting them to come out alive and sneak their way out.

 

Although his senses were infected with soot and smoke, he could make their positions out, an improvement of skills he had achieved in his last year of duty.

 

Well, he could, of course, never compare his abilities to Aoshi Shinomori, but it sufficed for his survival.

 

About half an hour later, after steady pacing with his load, Sanosuke reached a little shed, well known to him.

 

Entering the little, ram-shackled building, he carefully lowered to the ground, untying the knots to release Saitou, still leaving the swordfighter's limbs attached to each other.

 

Suddenly, he felt cold without the hugging arms around his neck and shoulder, the lean frame cuddling close to his back, the embrace of two strong legs around his hip and along his thighs.

 

Unsheathing the sword, he rammed it into the ground, adjusting Saitou at the far end of the shed.

 

Slapping the man repeatedly caused the former Shinsengumi finally to open his blurry eyes, the amber stars of ice clouded.

 

"Listen", Sanosuke knelt next to him, tired, haggard-looking, pale, "this is my present to your birthday, Hajime Saitou, wolf of Mibu: we'll meet again in a year's time at your next birthday here, and I'll promise you a fight worth the Bakumatsu wars.

Until then, you'll grow to hate me like I hate you."

 

"You'll pay for that, Sagara", the wolf growled huskily, barely audible, due to his sore throat, glaring and already tossing to cross the small distance and rub the bandages bounding him to the shiny blade of his katana.

 

Sanouke smiled bitterly, "I know, 'Jime.

But there's no way out.

After all, I told you I never give in."

 

Getting up, he adjusted his jacket, getting to the small door, turning his head while halting in the doorframe.

 

"Remember my back, Saitou.

I'm evil.

You have to fight me."

 

Closing the door, Sanosuke took a deep draught of fresh air, when a howl of utter rage and frenzy shivered through his entire body.

 

Farewell, my hunter, let's meet at your birthday.

 

Get your gift.

 

                                                ~ð~

 

And thus, Sanosuke Sagara, former gangster Zanza, former member of the infamous Sekihoutai, constant brawler and close friend to Kenshin Himura, disappeared from Toukyou.

 

~tbc~

 

Thanks for enduring!

kimera

 

 

 

[Nekkie’s note: aw, don’t mind that ~tbc~ mark. Kimera just teasing us!]

 

 

 

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