This hill he was on, it looked the same as the last five.

Sagara Sanosuke scratched at his thatch of dark brown hair and chewed some more on the stem of bamboo clamped at the corner of his mouth. He knew he was bad with directions, but this...

"The west coast..." he muttered, then brandished a fist. "Where the hell is the west coast!?"

So things weren't exactly turning out as he'd planned. The day he'd left Tokyo, he was planning on getting to Shanghai and making his way from there. Taking up a trade, maybe, or finally scoring it big with gambling. At any rate, prospects had dried up in Tokyo for him. In fact, he'd left in something of a hurry.

The grand trip to Shanghai had ended badly. His crippled ship had beached somewhere on the southern tip of the island, and Sano's plans had been set back. So he'd made new ones. From there, he would hike on foot to the western ports, and take a ship bound for China. There was one thing he hadn't accounted for.

He couldn't FIND the western ports.

"If north is that way..." Sano muttered, once again holding up his fragment of magnetized iron, then stowing it in his traveling pack.

Indecisive, he looked towards north, or the presumed north, then faced 'west.' "I better make it to the coast tomorrow or..." Sano started walking again, chewing reflectively on his stem. This was no good. He was running out of food.

Perhaps he should have taken up the psycho cop's offer after all...

"No, no, no, absolutely not!" Sano shook his head vigorously, trailing streamers of his red bandanna flapping this way and that. He shivered in disgust. "Using me as bait for some pretty-boy man-slayer...definitely not!" And he'd skipped town before Saitou could manipulate him into doing it.

Saitou was a dangerous man. Without seeming like he had anything to do with it at all, he could maneuver people into doing what he'd planned for all along. That, or he took advantage of what people ended up doing. Just like Sanosuke's fight with Chou of the Ten Swords...

Still, he felt uneasy about their encounter of the other day. He hadn't had a chance to settle the score, and that narrow-eyed bastard had just let him go like that.

"Maa..." Sano went back to chewing on his sprig of bamboo. If Saitou wasn't going to follow him, so much the better. He'd racked up quite a tab with Tae at the Akabeko before leaving Tokyo, and while it had gotten mysteriously paid he'd never seen hide nor hair of the former Shinsen Gumi who had alluded to some kind of bargain.

That was fine with him. Anything between he and Saitou from this point would come down to settling the score again. He'd never tried his Futae no Kiwami against the psycho cop...he wanted to, but his fist was still more or less broken from the last round of battles.

"Right..." Sano said aloud, flipping the sprig of bamboo at the corner of his mouth. "Now...where the hell are the western ports!?"

All these mountain fields were even worse than taking the Nakasen route to Kyoto with all its trees. He got turned around so bad...hey! Wait!

This hill he was on, it looked the same as the last five.

"Ch'." Sanosuke sat down hard in the middle of the field, falling into a cross-legged position. "Guess it's about time for lunch." He shrugged off his traveling pack.

He had exactly one meat-bun left.

"Gahh!" Sanosuke balanced the bun on one fist, eyeing it with mingled chagrin and dismay. The least he should have done, he reflected, was stay in that Yukimura-ko village long enough to weasel a meal out of the bastard.

He popped the meat-bun into the air, tilting his head back.

A carriage thundered up the dusty grass rut of a road Sano hadn't even realized he was traveling near. Sanosuke's head swiveled around. The meat-bun tumbled through the air.

"Noo!" he howled as the bun plopped to the ground. He crouched for a second, staring down at it, and his stomach grumbled menacingly. Sano grabbed the meat-bun in both hands and stuffed it into his mouth.

The carriage slowed and came to a halt.

Sanosuke rose in one fluid motion, slinging his traveling pack over his shoulder once more. The carriage door was opening. Hey, maybe it was some hot babe on her way to a coastal town. "Hey!" he called, lifting a hand. "Hey, you owe me a meal!" That should break the ice.

"Still acting like a dumbass as always," a familiar deep voice drawled, and a uniformed figure leaned out the open door of the carriage.

Sanosuke bristled. "You!" He raised a fist. "Are you following me?" He was almost absurdly flattered. The secret police officer had finished his business in Yukimura-ko so quickly, then come after him?

"Ahou," Saitou Hajime returned, narrow amber eyes appraising him. "I'm en route to the west coast, to carry out more police business. One petty former thug is beneath my concern."

"Oh, fine!" Sano flared, taking a few running steps towards the carriage, fist still upraised for battle. "Well, settling the score with you isn't beneath my concern! I'll show you how much better I've gotten...and you'll see how far you get with one of your carriage wheels pulverized to dust!"

Saitou lifted a thin black brow but seemed otherwise unimpressed with the threat. "If that's all you have to say, I'll be on my way, then."

"Ho..." Sano exhaled, starting to grin. "I get it, I get it. You're just afraid to come up against me this time, because you recognize how much my skill level has improved! And--"

It might have been his imagination, but he thought Saitou's eyebrow might have twitched. "Don't be absurd," Saitou interrupted without heat. "Besides, if you destroy the carriage wheel, it will delay your meal at the next town by a great interval. We don't happen to have any replacement."

"Hey, you mean it?" Sano brightened, clenched hand dropping to his side as he was distracted by the thought of filling his painfully empty belly. It had been days, no, maybe weeks since he'd had a good meal.

Saitou's eyes were cool as his expression. "Climb in. You're more troublesome than Chou."

"What was that!?"

The carriage started up again as soon as Saitou had pulled the door shut. Sanosuke set his traveling pack in the corner of the box seat, looking Saitou over casually. It had been nearly a year...not quite, but almost. The last time he had seen Saitou was when they, along with Kenshin and the others, had reclaimed the Missy from Enishi's island stronghold.

The man looked the same. Saitou Hajime still wore the uniform of a police officer -- his rank was supposedly assistant something-or-other -- but he carried the clout of a secret police officer who reported to the commissioner himself. His shoulders were broad, his frame spare and muscular. His face was lean and ascetic as ever, his features thrown into wan relief as he lit up a cigarette and held it to his mouth with a gloved hand.

Sano tipped his head back against the back of the carriage, pretending not to look at him anymore. There were only two things he thought of when he was around Saitou. The first was settling the score with the pointy-eyed bastard and seeing through his vow to surpass the man. The second was the kind of man Saitou was in bed.

It wasn't something that a man could talk about. But it had happened; Saitou had taken him to bed, and he'd enjoyed it. Then Sanosuke'd left Tokyo for a while because everything seemed lost.

Even though it wasn't something they talked about, but it was on Sano's mind now and he was willing to bet it was on Saitou's mind, too. If the man thought he was such a dumbass, he would never have bothered to stop in the middle of the road and pick him up.

At least he'd finally gotten off that damned hill.

"Hey." Sano cracked one eye open. A cloud of smoke wreathed Saitou's head and the man was eyeing him intently, as if he were something to devour. The realization of that gaze was like a shock along his skin. Sano opened both eyes. "Did you find your killer?"

"Yes, no thanks to you," Saitou said coolly, sucking in another lungful of smoke, exhaling it towards the partly open carriage window. "As luck would have it, Seta Soujirou was passing through, and he was pretty enough to act as bait for the killer."

"Soujirou?" Sanosuke was aghast. "That little smiley-smiley boy that Kenshin beat? The one who was faster than Kenshin, even?"

"That Soujirou," Saitou confirmed. "It was an interesting case. The killer is no longer a threat, however, and my job is done in Yukimura-ko."

Sanosuke looked at Saitou, feeling suspicious. "So you just let Soujirou go?"

"Trying to capture him wouldn't have done any good," Saitou said blandly, taking another drag of his cigarette. "If I had, he would have felt the need to fight me. Besides, Soujirou himself is no longer a threat."

"Hey, wait a minute," Sano said, confused by Saitou's logic. "What about justice?"

Saitou's eyes flared for an instant like the gleam of the molten sun on the edge of the horizon. "I determine how justice is dispensed," he ground out, a note of implacability in his deep voice. "Whether Shinsen Gumi, or secret police rooting out corruption in the heart of the Meiji era, the justice is the same: slay evil instantly."

Aku, soku, zan. Sanosuke nodded, breath caught between his teeth. He'd heard it before. "So what you're saying is Soujirou isn't evil? Not anymore, at any rate."

"I don't know if you could have called him evil before," Saitou said thoughtfully, averting the intensity of his amber eyes, making it easier for Sano to breathe. "Soujirou's sense of right and wrong was flawed. It wasn't really his fault, as Shishio was the one to raise and develop that imperfect sense of justice. Now, he seems to be discovering for himself what standards he should live by."

Sanosuke shrugged. All that was a little too deep for him. "Guess it's all right as long as he finds something to believe in."

"Oh, he will," Saitou commented. He tacked on, like an afterthought, "He's not there yet...but he will."

Sano leaned his head back again, closing his eyes. All that was very interesting, but all he could really concentrate on was his empty stomach. He was starving!

Saitou seemed satisfied with the silence as well, and it stretched between them without pressure or the need for words. After awhile, Sano dozed off.

"Oi. Oi, wake up."

The deep voice intruded on Sano's light sleep. Sano shrugged and turned his head into his shoulder, muttering. "I had a late night last night...I lost money on the dice...lemme sleep a bit longer..."

"You never think about improving your lot, do you?" Saitou's voice was like a slap in the face.

Sanosuke cracked both eyes open, glaring fit to kill. "So damned noisy," he growled. "And you're really rude, to boot. How 'bout it, then; you wanna settle the score between us?"

Saitou's sigh was insulting in its drawn-out note of resignation. "After such a long time, you're the only one to hold a petty grudge."

Sano surged up from the seat of the carriage, stumbling and nearly tripping as he emerged from the contraption into the blinding light of day. "Aagh!" He threw up a hand to protect his eyes. He hated riding in carriages, it was almost unnatural to go so fast. At least it wasn't as bad as trains.

"Just what did you mean by that?" Sanosuke demanded once he'd recovered enough to set his sights on Saitou once more. He held up a threatening fist.

"Ahou," Saitou proclaimed him, pitching his spent cigarette to the dirt. "That 'score' you keep referring to was settled long ago. That wasn't a fight, it was a demonstration."

"Huh?" Sano popped his knuckles, getting ready to fight in earnest. He wasn't satisfied with that answer.

Saitou looked him up and down. "Allow me to put it plainly for you, then. At that time, I proved my point on your body, and the demonstration is long since over. The 'score' you seem to want to settle is only a grudge on your part. It has nothing to do with me."

"Sh-shut up, you arrogant bastard," Sanosuke sputtered, then cast aside his traveling pack. He was practically trembling with anger. To have his score pushed off so casually as some kind of child's grudge...he wouldn't allow it! "If you want to twist things around with your words, then I win by default!"

Saitou sighed again, and the long-suffering note rankled Sano down to the bottom of his soul. "And I've told you before, it's all the same to me." He turned, the gleam of one amber eye lingering on Sano as he did so. "However, if there's another kind of point to prove on your body, that might be interesting enough to exert myself."

Sanosuke stared after him, broadsided. "Wh-what!?" Saitou Hajime was blunt when it suited him, but he'd never expected him to be so bold in broad daylight.

"Now, if you don't mind, I believe it's time for lunch." Saitou donned a policeman's cap along with that unnervingly polite attitude he'd used for the first five minutes of their acquaintance.

In the middle of the street, Sanosuke hesitated and sweated it out. What should he do? If he followed, Saitou might take it the wrong way. Or he might not take it the wrong way... Aagh! Sano felt like clutching at his head. What should he do!? He wanted to prove himself to that man... But why did he want to prove himself to Saitou? No, it was because he wanted to be better than Saitou... But did he really want to be better? Or did he just want him to accept Sanosuke as an equal?

As soon as Sanosuke thought it through that way, he realized he had already made his decision in his heart.

"Hey..." Sanosuke made a long arm and scooped up his traveling pack, then jogged to catch up with the taller man. "Hey, what you said about lunch, did that include me?" He felt foolish just saying the words. Where had his boldness gone? Earlier he'd said straightforwardly to the rider of the carriage that they owed him a lunch.

Ah, but that was before he knew it was Saitou.

In profile, the sharp-featured man glanced at him, then forward. "I hope you like plain hot soba."

"What, no chicken skewers or hot beef plates?" Sano asked facetiously, putting his hands up behind his head. The traveling pack thumped against the small of his back. Their feet kicked up dust puffs as they walked along the street.

"If you want a choice, you can pay for it yourself."

"Ahh." Sano tilted his head slightly to observe the clear blue sky, ambling beside the lean policeman. As tall as Sanosuke was, Saitou topped him by a few inches; that by itself had been a novel experience for him. "I guess plain hot soba's good enough for me."

His stomach growled, distressingly loud in the silence that stretched again between them.

Sano twitched. He glanced to the side...and thought he saw Saitou's lips quirk. If he messes with me...that's it, I don't care how hungry I am, I'll walk away.

"I suppose we should hurry," was all the man said.

Not far down the street from where they left the carriage was a restaurant called the Aobeko. Sanosuke looked up at the sign briefly as they entered and thought of Tae-san and her family's chain of restaurants. Perhaps another of her sisters would be here, taking orders with a pleasant smile.

Sanosuke sat with a satisfied grunt, anticipating the feel of a full belly as he hadn't had in weeks. And all it took was finding one psycho cop that he hadn't seen for nearly a year.

"Miss, two bowls of kake-soba," Saitou requested as soon as the serving girl came over to their booth. She had her hair tied up in the white kerchief common to most restaurant workers, and the sleeves of her kimono were striped. Again Sano was reminded of Tokyo and the Akabeko.

"Oi, and a bottle of sake!" Sanosuke tacked on at the last second, as the girl walked away. She twisted her upper torso to bob her head at him, smiling.

When Sano faced the secret policeman again, Saitou was scowling darkly at him.

"What?" Sano said defensively, lifting his hands palm-up in a shrug.

"Don't drink too much of that," Saitou warned him.

"Huh?" Brashly Sano cocked his arms behind his head again, looking Saitou up and down. "Why does it matter? If I'm gonna have plain hot soba, at least something to wash it down would be nice."

Saitou leaned forward, narrowed gold eyes drilling him into place. "Because I don't want to taste it on you later, dumbass," the words hissed from between Saitou's teeth, then the cop leaned back and lit a cigarette as if he'd said nothing at all.

Sanosuke reeled back from the table, ears ringing. He was fairly sure his face had spiked with red as if he'd already downed three cups or more of the sake that was still on its way.

The manly thing to do, he thought wildly, would be to get up and walk out, taking umbrage at the thing Saitou had just said, which was unmistakably a declaration of intention.

A bowl of hot soba slid in front of him, and instead of getting up Sanosuke picked up his chopsticks, glancing casually at the man across from him. Saitou seemed fixed on his own bowl of soba.

"Thanks for the food," Sano mumbled, before tucking in. He kept his eyes on Saitou for awhile, as they both slurped up broth and noodles after adding judicious taps of shichimi togarashi, hot seasoning.

Saitou ate neatly, despite the tendency of the noodles to dangle, necessitating a slurping tactic to recover lost ground. He ignored Sanosuke for the nonce, concentrating on his meal. It was a novelty for Sano to be so completely shut out. It was as if Saitou ate his meal alone. This was one of the reasons, he supposed, that Saitou was able to get his goat so completely -- this sense of being ignored, Sano wasn't used to it.

Perhaps because of that, or something else, but whatever it was...there was something that made him want to get Saitou's attention, especially when the psycho cop was turning down his attempts to settle the score.

"Hey, Saitou," Sanosuke said during one of the pauses as their chopsticks dipped and he eyed his sake, wondering what would happen if he drank it. "What kind of police business brings you to this town?"

"Not this town," Saitou denied, digging in his bowl for more noodles, tipping the rim towards him and slurping up another measure of broth. He set it down, face set in that unsettlingly polite expression from their first meeting. "I did tell you I had business on the west coast. We're not there yet."

Sano flushed, turning his attention back to the food.

"Right. What're you doing there, then?" Sano persisted.

"Business," Saitou repeated, expression misleadingly disarming. Then his eyes opened, narrow and evil as ever, as he stared directly at Sano. "As long as your path takes you to the west, I can put up with a chicken-head tagging along." That said, he turned his concentration back to the food.

"Hey, you!" Sanosuke bristled and raised a fist, but Saitou was already ignoring him. He was a hair away from slamming his hand onto the table, rattling cups and bowls, but stopped himself. If he did that he'd be acting the same way Saitou accused him of, just like a 'fledgling.' When his goal was to surpass Saitou...

He finished his meal in a sulky kind of silence, stewing over his bowl of soba and glancing occasionally at the cool front Saitou presented on the other side of the table.

"So, what now?" Sanosuke said casually, hands behind his head, as Saitou was paying for the bill and the serving girl was taking away empty bowls and a bottle of sake untouched.

Saitou glanced at the milk-white bottle, then an amber eye appraised him. "I suppose now the only thing to do is find a place to stay for the night." And he turned his attention back to the hostess.

The tickle of warmth, of anticipation in his gut surprised Sano. He remembered a dark night in Tokyo, a hot brief struggle on the tatami mats, and the rest...he passed a hand over his face, sure again that he felt heat rising. That night he hadn't yielded but he had still been...involved...with Saitou. That had been a first and he wondered why...he wanted it again.

That was why he was still tagging along, right?

Saitou didn't even glance behind to see if Sano was following as they left the restaurant. This village between the hills was a fair-sized one at a crossroads, and as they left the restaurant and noodle-shop quarter for the hostel section, there were women calling out to passing travelers. Hands in his pockets, Sanosuke followed because he had nothing better to do, and only a few dusty coins in his pouch -- not even enough to gamble with. At least, that was one reason for following that he would admit to.

They checked into a hostel, Sano following with the sense of one absent-minded.

"This should do."

Saitou slid aside the shoji, the screen door of the room, looking out upon the well-kept garden and koi pond within the complex. He had gotten the room for them and a serving-girl had shown the way, dark eyes glancing at them curiously. It wasn't uncommon for two men to share a room on the road, but for two with such an obvious class difference...

Slumped in a corner of the room, Sano twirled a stem of bamboo in the corner of his mouth and watched Saitou. The delinquent cop was still ignoring him.

"Hey, why here and not a police station?" he demanded, looking at the bedding stacked neatly in the corner. Despite the formless sense of expectation, he preferred not to think about 'later.'

"The police station in Kamizu doesn't have attached quarters," Saitou said, with the absent air of someone replying to a question he wasn't concerned with. He turned, sliding the screen shut. "Now, I've got business to attend to."

"Huh?" Sano straightened, breaking the stem between his teeth. The end fell to the mat unnoticed. "So you were just gonna eat and run?"

One amber eye glared at him from profile. "Don't mistake me for someone like you," Saitou said coldly.

"Why did you set me up like this, anyway?" Sano said brashly, fists clenched. "I'm not some woman that you can leave behind when you get bored."

"Ahou," Saitou declared, sliding open the door and turning his back to him again. "Business is business, and you're the one who chose to tag along. I said I didn't mind. Don't get in my way, and don't assume too much."

The door shut behind the dark-clad back with a sharp crack.

Sanosuke fumed, clenching his fists. What was the point, then? He wasn't some goddamned dog, but Saitou treated him like it. He wasn't gonna follow the man around if that was the case no matter how many free meals he got...

He cast a look around the neat clean hostel room. "Guess it can't be helped if I'm already here..." he sighed, flopping onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. Even if he was pissed, his belly was full and he was in a room someone else was paying for. "Might as well stay this one night."

Then tomorrow, he'd find someone to point him down the road that led to the western ports.

Satisfied with his plan, Sanosuke rolled out the bedding in the corner and tossed his jacket to the side. No way was he gonna bother waiting for Saitou, but he was too lazy to leave.

At least, that was one reason for staying he would admit to.

Even the shirring volume of locusts in high summer wasn't enough to keep one Sagara Sanosuke from a sound sleep. Together with the lulling, regular clout of a filled bamboo pipe clacking down onto the pond rock beneath it in the garden, Sanosuke pulled a light sheet over himself and relaxed by degrees. The thoughts of far-behind Tokyo left him with a shrug, and like a drop of water from the bamboo into the pond, Saitou's infuriating attitude slipped away before the depth of sleep.

Sanosuke dreamed, and the scattered threads born of a sleeping mind were plucked away even as he unraveled them so that the interval seemed dreamless.

By degrees, as he had relaxed into the dreaming state likewise he rose out of it. The stripe of light by the shoji that opened onto the hostel garden was gray and fading. Sano could smell smoke, and he opened his eyes.

"How long...?"

"A few hours," the dark voice answered.

Sano bolted up from the light blanket and pad he'd slept on, pawing groggily at his hair. "Can't believe I fell asleep..." he muttered. His eyes flicked to the side of the room, where Saitou leaned against the wall smoking a cigarette and watching him with narrow eyes. "Creepy bastard. How long were you there watching me?"

"Saa," Saitou said, declining to answer.

"Well..." Sanosuke rubbed at his head for moment, then got to his feet with quick fluidity. "Guess I should be going. Didn't mean to sleep as long as I did here."

He turned, and made two steps for the door.

"Ahou." The insult fell harsh and flat on Sano's already-flayed nerves. "Who gave you permission to eat and run?"

"Who says I need anyone's permission for anything?" Sano spat, holding up a fist as he pivoted. The tensions dissolved by sleep returned to knot up his neck and shoulders, making him fight-ready.

"This is pointless," Saitou sighed, moving to the shoji, pitching his mostly-spent cigarette from gloved fingers with a practiced flick. He snapped the screen shut again and turned, giving Sanosuke a bored look as he leaned against the wall beside it. "Are you finished, rooster-head? If you try to run now you'll find an unpleasant surprise waiting for you in the town outside."

"Are you threatening me?" Sano yelled, rushing at him with a brandished fist. The wall beside Saitou's ear exploded, leaving a bomb-sized crater. The powder of shattered plaster sifted to the floor.

Saitou met his angry stare with cool amber eyes, unimpressed. "I've seen that trick of yours before," he remarked calmly. "I'm surprised to see you can do it again, with that broken fist of yours."

"Heh." Sanosuke shook his hand, a cocky grin on his face. "It got better after all this time." It took all of his control not to wince as he felt fluid seeping from his battered knuckles.

"At any rate," Saitou said, lean face shifting into a predatory kind of expression, "if you'd listened for a moment instead of acting without thinking, you would've heard the part where I tell you the town is crawling with cops."

"Oh?" Sanosuke tilted his head, grin slipping a bit. "Bastard, I'll bet you had something to do with that."

A wicked smile turned the corners of Saitou's mouth. "Then you'd lose that bet, just the way you lose everything else you gamble on."

"You fucking government bitch!" Sano slammed his other fist into the wall beside Saitou, maddened beyond endurance.

Saitou seized his wrist and the man's other fist, the left one, was moving in a blur. Sano took the impact in the gut and the breath went out of him. Before he could recover Saitou was using the leverage on his wrist to ram him into the wall, reversing their positions. The man's gloved hands dug into his shoulders hard enough to bruise.

"Shut your mouth," Saitou growled, "or I'll shut it for you."

Sanosuke never did know when to shut his mouth, though. He jutted his chin out and said defiantly, "An' how's a toothless old dog like you gonna shut my mouth, huh?"

The gleam of Saitou's narrowed amber eyes should have warned him.

Before he had a chance or thought to counterattack, Mibu's Wolf was on him, mouth clamping on his, teeth biting at his lips, forcing him open and battering him down, tongue prying at his coppery skin and thrusting into him as Sano bared his teeth. With a surprised grunt Sano fielded the gesture, more attack than kiss, and grasped at Saitou's arms. When the tongue met his he was braced, and muscle against muscle they wrestled, sharing the sting of blood between them.

When Saitou released his lips Sano was panting, and the psycho cop had barely stirred a hair. The man let him go but those narrow eyes pinned him to the wall still as he stripped his gloves off a finger at a time.

"Still think you're going somewhere?" the mellow, deep voice challenged him.

"Gonna make me stay?" Sano returned, crooked grin coming back.

Saitou's bare fingers slid over his shoulders and dug in, fingers massaging for a moment before settling into bruise-making grooves again. His eyes, so close to Sano's were locked on him, assessing, challenging. Like a match he waited for Sanosuke's response after striking a blow. And like a match, Sano found the response rising up within him.

He met Saitou's mouth snarling, and Saitou returned it with equal force. This feeling, he'd been here before. Like fighting it sang in his blood and demanded something from him, a force that surpassed the limits of his lone body.

Mouth on mouth they grappled, teeth and tongue. In some distant portion of his brain Sano was forced to concede Saitou's expertise and he hated it, the fact that the man could have mastery over this too. Then he surged forward with his determination to surpass the man whose tongue explored and claimed him so thoroughly.

The balls of Saitou's thumbs stroked along his collarbone and Sanosuke inhaled, tasting sweat and the moisture from the other man's mouth as he licked the faint residue of blood from Sano's lips. The touch feathering along his skin made Sano aware of his discarded jacket, the fact that he was bare to the waist, and Saitou's body heat radiated along his breastbone. The lean face close to his was focused.

"Why?" Sanosuke asked hoarsely, shifting against the wall, feeling Saitou's leg nudge up between his own, resting just so. He was aching already and that question probably wasn't the smartest thing to ask. Then again, Saitou accused him of being a dumbass, so...

"You bother me," Saitou told him, bending close, coarse hair brushing against Sano's jaw as the man placed his teeth over Sano's throat.

"Ahh..." Sano's noise was guttural as the taller man nipped him there, sucking at the soft flesh at the hollow of his collarbones. Saitou's fingers were digging into him again, then one hand dropped from his shoulder to touch his bare waist. Sano's eyes flickered up to Saitou, who was still watching him with that intent kind of concentration.

It was the same thing. Wanting Saitou, wanting to surpass him, fighting the man and meeting his onslaught, the feelings were mingled inside until he couldn't separate them anymore.

"You gonna do me?" he said then, with a hint of his gutter-punk grin.

Saitou's eyes smoldered, and the man rubbed his hand along Sano's bare waist, moving around to the small of his back and stroking there.

The sense of it, just the pads of his fingers moving across Sano's skin, was unbelievably electric.

"Hn." Saitou's mouth quirked, then he trailed his left hand down Sanosuke's shoulder to rub his thumb over the ridge of raised white scar, a horizontal line just below the collarbone.

"Twisted," Sano muttered, as Saitou's hand trailed lower at the small of his back...and he bent his head to trace the scar with his tongue now, the welted scar created by Saitou's own Gatotsu. Sano's fists, clenched until now, gathered handfuls of Saitou's jacket...to push him away or draw him closer, he wasn't sure.

"If this isn't okay" -- Saitou's words brushed over his throat -- "then now's your last chance to run away." He sensed, rather than saw, the smirk that crossed the man's lips as he bit the hollow of Sano's throat again.

Run away!?

This wasn't like fighting. That drove the point home. But there was no way to yield to Saitou...but that hadn't been how things had gone last time. Without giving in, either to the other, they had surpassed the limits of their bodies.

"I'm not gonna run away." He dragged Saitou closer to him with the grip he had on the man's dark police uniform.

Now he saw the smirk Saitou flashed up at him, vaguely smug not so much at the victory as Sano's admission, he felt. The only thing keeping him here wasn't defeat, it was the fact that he wanted it. Strange...so strange, this wasn't soft and fragrant sex like he'd get with a woman. This was hard and struggling like a battle match, and it felt so damned good, better than fighting to his limit.

Saitou's thumb was still absently stroking the scar the psycho cop had left there, and he left off as he moved to replace the digit with his lips.

"You really are twisted," Sano muttered, tugging at the man's jacket. "Come on, are you going to get rid of this?"

"Impatient," Saitou declared, straightening and shrugging his jacket off, tossing it to the side. One thin dark eyebrow arched. "I suppose that means you're ready to take this to the mats."

"Of course!" Sanosuke said quickly, without thinking, lifting a fist.

"Ahou," Saitou said, with a trace of impatience of his own. "This isn't a fight, it's sex."

"With you, it's almost the same thing," Sano sniffed, dropping to a cross-legged position on the tatami.

Saitou's amber-intense gaze was fixed on him as the man removed his belt and tossed it likewise to the side, approaching with the stalk of the wolf.

The shadows painted his lean body in shades of gray as Saitou knelt, face unreadable, distance still separating their bodies. Sanosuke felt like he was aching in this waiting, this stillness, feeling something silent pass between them that he didn't quite understand. Then Saitou reached, pulling him close with the leverage of a hand cupping the back of his neck, shifting towards Sano at the same time, bringing them together.

He opened his mouth to the point of Saitou's probing smoky tongue, letting his eyes fall shut. The unworthy thought crossed his mind again that he was being forced into the role of a woman but he pushed it back. Saitou had already made it clear more than once, mostly without words, sometimes with scornful ones, that he didn't think of Sanosuke that way. A hand moved up his thigh, not caressing so much as invading.

With both hands, Sano rode up the thin white shirt that still clad Saitou's chest, feeling the smooth ridges of muscle there, along with the occasional interruption of scar tissue. Saitou responded by dropping his hand to the small of Sano's back again, fingers tracing the route down along his spine, then both ungloved hands met at the front of his pants, untying the knot of his obi. The kiss deepened with intensity, tongues tangling and sparring, teeth grinding together with the force of it.

They broke away, both panting lightly. Saitou gave him a measured look and drew aside the obi that belted Sano's loose white pants. "Roll back."

"I'll do it myself," Sano contradicted him, giving a scowl. He leaned back, legs stretching to either side of Saitou as he eased his pants down. Then he lifted his legs to finish stripping and Saitou grabbed hold of the cloth, tearing it off the rest of the way. "O-oi! I have to wear that later!"

"Your fault for taking so long," Saitou rejoined. His look was feral as he took in the length of Sano's mostly-naked body.

"Well, sorry won't mend my pants," Sano said, still leaning back, expression sulky.

"I didn't say I was sorry," Saitou corrected meticulously, "I said it was your fault for delaying." His hands feathered over Sanosuke's ankles, trailing upwards.

"Well, excuse--" Sano began to bluster, and was interrupted as Saitou lunged up the length of his body, taking his mouth and pinning him to the bedroll. Sano thrashed beneath him and, as heartbeats ticked past, opened his mouth under the assault though his body remained wire-tense.

Saitou's hands roamed over his naked flesh. Lean-bodied as he was, Saitou was heavier and it was enough to pin him to the floor as the man explored him, mouth and teeth and tongue, fingers gouging as much as they roughly incited him. It was like a battle no matter what Saitou said, and that kind of excitement was burning along his body, along with an underlying, deeper expectation.

The man kept him pinned down even after he released his mouth again, rearing up with a glint in his eye and kneeling on Sano's thighs as he grabbed the hem of his shirt and skinned it off over his head, tossing it to the side with the rest of his clothing. It underscored the man's impatience, how willing he was to throw his clothing in a heap when the last time he'd folded each piece with punctilious neatness.

Sano grinned up at him, feeling a hint of his own smugness. He could make Saitou irritated like that, and this was the result. The man surveyed him from above, pinning him down again with both hands on his shoulders.

"You gonna get started with this, or do I have to get started myself?" Sano asked facetiously, one hand moving over his thigh then reaching between his legs to stroke himself. He tugged and gasped a little, eyes transfixed by Saitou's, pointing himself straight at the groin above him as he did indeed 'get himself started.'

"Impatient," Saitou repeated, but his eyes were smoldering. "You have a lot to learn."

"And I suppose you're the one to teach me?" Sano huffed.

Amber eyes glinted. "Yes." A hand reached down to cover his, curling over his erection, giving shape and direction where before Sano had only given himself friction.

"Uhhn..." Sano's head lolled back at the feel of it. Saitou's touch was truly expert. With old narrow-eyes working him like that he wasn't about to complain and possibly put a stop to this wonderful feeling.

"No wonder you're so impatient," Saitou drawled, easing into a position astride one of Sano's thighs, braced to the left of his torso. His hand kept up the rhythm. "You don't have any staying power, do you?"

"Wh-what!?" Sano tried to surge up from the pad but Saitou laid him flat again merely by leaning into him, putting the weight of one shoulder on him. "Hey, I've had no complaints!"

"Well, I'm not too polite to refrain from telling you what's lacking," Saitou told him, baring his teeth, leaving off with the stroking and pausing to remove his pants.

Sano, uncharacteristically, let that pass for now, propping himself on an elbow to watch the man. Saitou's body was spare and sinewy, packed with muscle but not bulging, economical and fight-ready like the man himself. He stripped off everything, revealing the hard organ that jutted out from his body and its bed of sparse dark curls.

Before setting tossing this last article of clothing aside, Saitou removed a small clay jar, almost thin enough to qualify as a vial, and set it near the bedroll. Sano's eyes flickered over that. There was no sense in feigning ignorance.

Saitou met his eyes straightforwardly. "Well?" the man asked, the twist of his lips almost sardonic, definitely amused. "You going to do something, or just watch now that I've undressed as you demanded?"

"Heh," the sound escaped Sano, and it was his turn to lunge as he made for Saitou with a flare of unexpected desire. Normally his wishes led him to try and pummel the man, to try and bash his fist into the smirking face that taunted him; here and now, he grasped at Saitou's shoulders and attacked that quirked mouth with his own. Saitou was already meeting him halfway, a callused hand grasping at his hip. Sano fumbled for the man's hardening cock.

"Don't be ridiculous," Saitou's voice pricked him to the bone.

"Hey!" Sano glared murder at him in earnest. "What the hell do you want, then?" He'd try to imitate Saitou's skilled grip, but if he took hold of Saitou while he was angry like this he'd probably snap it off.

Saitou sighed, and the long-suffering noise cut him again with its insult. "You on your hands and knees," the cop answered blandly, yellow eyes fixed on him with peculiar intent. "But I'm not lucky enough to get that without beating you into unconsciousness."

"Bastard!" Sano bristled. It was on the tip of his tongue to say 'try it!' But wasn't he already participating in this of his will? If he got ready like that, he'd only be offering himself up for what he wanted that much sooner! And since Saitou wasn't expecting it of him, maybe that was exactly what he should do!

The line of reasoning flashed through his mind in the time it took for another steady clack of bamboo to resound on the rock in the garden on which their room faced. A smirk almost curled up Sano's mouth but he suppressed it and scrambled onto the bedroll, bracing himself on his arms and folding his legs beneath him as if he were making an apology.

He felt exposed. His face burned.

"Finally," Saitou murmured, not sounding surprised one bit.

*Finally?* His eyes widened. Sano was burning now with something other than humiliation. Dammit! The psycho narrow-eyed wolf cop had won this round!

He'd have to avenge himself later. For now he was concentrating on the feel of Saitou's hands clasping his hips, pulling him closer, callused pads rasping over the muscled mounds of his buttocks. Sanosuke suppressed a shiver. Bastard though he might be, Saitou was a skilled lover. Perhaps there was something to his implication that he'd teach Sano.

He heard the little jar being uncorked, and felt unexpectedly green again. Did he really want this? Here he was on his knees and Saitou was preparing him. It was too late to worry about the niceties. He felt the slide of the oil and the insistence of Saitou's finger, then fingers, parting the way for what was to come.

Saitou wasn't quick about it, but he wasn't gentle either. Sano gritted his teeth and accepted the pain as part of the bargain. Anything less, he felt, wouldn't be satisfying. It would be too yielding.

"Prepare yourself," Saitou gave him a moment's warning, then the man's hands were on his hips again, stroking the hollow points, then grasping him tightly and mounting him.

There was an instant of shock; Sano's teeth clacked together as he took it. He felt like the sweat dripped from his brow, soaking his headband, as Saitou's engorged length slid into him by degrees. There was pain, and this he remembered, not like the true fire-flare of an injury but like the so-good feel of the burn of fighting. This he ignored, fists clenched on the light coverlet of the bedroll below him. Soon it would start to feel real damned good.

Saitou paused. Sano felt sure he could feel sweat drip onto his back. He hadn't made a noise but the slow sure progress of that cock inside of him had been excruciating. Now, Saitou adjusted his grip and began to undulate back and forth.

Gritting his teeth even harder, Sano arched back stiffly to meet him, ultimately pleased -- this kind of give and take was what was most satisfying of all. Without even knowing it, maybe, this kind of tension had been underlying their relationship for a long time.

Saitou had known, though. Saitou always knew.

They moved together for long moments, a grunt escaping Saitou as he moved faster, pumping his hardness deep enough within Sano to touch-start the fires banked inside him. Sano bit down on his lip to keep the noise inside of him. Damn, almost...

"No, you don't," Saitou snarled as Sanosuke shuddered visibly, bracing all his weight on one arm to reach between his legs.

"Ehh?"

He was stunned when Saitou pulled out, the hard satisfying weight of his cock slithering free. Then the man seized his supporting arm and yanked, sending Sano tumbling heavily to his side. Taken off-guard, he could only put up a token struggle as Saitou moved in again, the corded muscle in his arms standing taut as he crowded Sanosuke's legs to his chest, then over the lean old wolf's shoulders. There was something of a triumphant smile on Saitou's lips as he pinned Sanosuke to the bedroll, then reached down a hand to realign himself with Sano's slick hole.

Saitou punched his way in, it felt, and this time Sano couldn't stop himself from crying out. Saitou was silent except for the harsh panting that came from his open mouth as he moved in and in, rocking Sano's body with the force of his thrusts, sweat dripping between them, fusing them as securely as the place where they were joined. Saitou withdrew again and again, only to batter him down, touching off that unexpected bright pleasure at the deepest end of each stroke.

"Bastard..." Sano glared up at him. His wrists were pinned to the mat in Saitou's hands. The sinewy man thrust between his thighs again and again, narrow amber eyes fixed on Sanosuke's face, humiliating him with each stroke, making him feel better than fucking a woman, better than dicing, drinking, eating, better than fighting.

"Why?" Sano ground out, angry tears prickling in the corners of his eyes.

"You..." Saitou rasped, and his eyes were hard. "You bother me." He lunged, feeling like he would tear through Sano's body with the power of his thrust, and Sano's lips were covered by that hot smoky mouth.

"Nng..." He would have closed his mouth to the invasion if he weren't rendered so completely open. More than Saitou's piercing eyes, which could see through every part of him, being laid open by Saitou's touch was the surest way to show the man everything without meaning to.

With renewed vigor, Saitou thrust roughly into him.

Sanosuke took stock of this new angle unconsciously as his body shifted to meet the pounding. Saitou's grip on his wrists loosened and he let go, taking leverage from Sanosuke's shoulders instead, yellow eyes glittering down at him. Sano couldn't look away.

The feeling was building up inside of him.

"Saitou...c'mon," Sano urged, reaching desperation. This tension had been coiled within him, maybe, since he'd stepped into the carriage earlier in the day.

"We'll have to work on your stamina," Saitou muttered, but he was quickening, hard cock stabbing inside of Sano in all the right ways. His pace was uncompromising, leading to bring Sano's peaking fires to a swift conclusion.

I'll get you for that later, Sano decided, before he quit thinking coherently. Saitou's thumb was stroking the thick scar on his right shoulder as he moved faster and faster, and Sano couldn't bear it any longer.

"Aagh!" He arched furiously against the bedroll, reaching up with everything he had as he spent himself. Saitou's hands were to either side of his head now. Saitou's lean face contorted, but his yellow eyes were steady and never left Sano's face.

That was the most erotic thing of all.

With long, languorous thrusts, Saitou finished inside of him. They were glued together with sweat, or so he thought until Saitou moved stiffly, separating their bodies and lowering Sano's legs.

"Dammit...dammit..." Sano panted, rolling over onto his side. He felt something trickle wetly down his ass and grimaced. "You...you're always..."

Saitou sat beside him, reaching for something in his jacket yet again. He pulled out a cigarette and a pack of matches.

"And you think my sake's a disgusting habit?" Sano grumbled, but he was inwardly elated. He propped his hands behind his head. That had been...really damned good.

Saitou exhaled his first drag in Sano's direction.

"Don't forget I'm not your ashtray," Sano growled, passing a hand over his abdomen and the tightly-wound bandages there.

Saitou said nothing to this, but he did flick his ashes onto the wood margin of the room, the framework beyond the tatami.

"So...where you goin' next?" Sano asked, looking anywhere but the old wolf lounging beside him.

"Ahou," Saitou spoke coolly, probably with his peculiar brand of amusement, "I'm going west. I already told you, I have business there."

"Stop calling me that!" Sano exclaimed, rolling to a sitting position, fists clenched. "Dumbass this and fledgling that...I've got a name, you know, and it's Sagara Sanosuke!" Come to think of it, Saitou had only said his full name the one time...

"I remember," Saitou said calmly, undercutting the violence of his words and making him feel like a child. "And you - your plan is still to go to Shanghai?"

Sano started. He didn't think Saitou had known that. Had he told him?

"That's right," Sano said brashly. Then he scratched the base of his neck, turning sheepish. "It's just taking me longer than it should."

"Shanghai..." Saitou repeated thoughtfully, exhaling a ghost trail toward the far corner of the room. "Why go there?"

Sano was struck by the odd notion that he was having small talk with Saitou Hajime. Once, this man had shoved a concealing sword through his shoulder, snapping it off in there. Now they were situated side by side on a distinctively rumpled bedroll.

"'Cause I haven't been there yet," Sano said confidently, setting aside his other reasons for leaving Tokyo.

"Ahou," Saitou said, and there was a definite sense of amusement in the word.

"D-don't say that!" Sano choked, nearly speechless with rage.

Saitou's yellow eyes looked him over curiously. Then he said abruptly, "Instead of that, why don't you cut a deal?"

"A deal?" Sano was bewildered.

"A deal, a deal," Saitou said, waving a hand, fanning smoke. Most of it went in Sano's direction. "I'm a member of the secret police. If you want to take a deal, I can offer it to you."

Sano was torn between outrage and an absurd sense of flattery. It made him want to laugh. "A deal like the Ten Swords took? That kind of deal?"

"Maa," Saitou replied, bland, not much by way of an answer. He stared off into the distance.

"Well, forget it," Sano said bluntly. "This kind of thing is fine but I'm not going to be your bitch...which is exactly the kind of position I'd be putting myself in if I took a government deal."

One amber eye gleamed at him from the corner of Saitou's eye. "You're a fool."

"Maybe...but you like me like that," Sano said, maybe a little too smugly.

"Hn," Saitou said, and Sano thought he saw the man's lips quirk. "Don't get cocky, fledgling."

Sanosuke seethed. "Look, I already told you..."

"I know what you told me," Saitou interrupted, leaning over and putting his cigarette out. He ground the smoldering butt against the tightly-wrapped bandages that bound Sano's midsection.

"Hey--AHH!"

Saitou seized his wrist and drew him off balance, tumbling him towards one hard shoulder. "Shut up, it wouldn't hurt that much with so many bandages. Now, did you really think you were done for the night, Sagara Sanosuke?"

That was the one thing that could catch him off-guard. Sano let himself be drawn for now.

The breeze was strong and smelled like the ocean. Passage to Shanghai was booked and the freedom of another continent was only hours away. Still, the goal that had been his end-all and be-all only days ago now seemed rather empty. Shanghai was a challenge, and it meant freedom, but...

Sanosuke chewed reflectively on the twig in the corner of his mouth, then twirled it. There was no challenge when he wasn't being pushed to surpass himself. But this was something he had to do. If he took Saitou's offer now, he was weak, he really was the man's bitch. But if he took it later on his own terms...well, that was an entirely different story.

The leave-taking at Saitou's carriage that morning had been characteristically abrupt. Sano still didn't know whatever business had brought the secret policeman towards the west, just his way, but he was grateful. It gave him something to anticipate when he returned.

For a change of pace, he might take up the psycho cop's offer at last. Then he'd see about improving his lot.

+end+

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