DISCLAIMER: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin or any of the characters who are used in the following text.

Chapter 7

Click-Click

The next day, I woke up feeling like my brain was an old piece of over-toasted bread. But I didn't forget what Katsu told me, and that made me realize what I wanted to do. I was gonna have to do some detective work of my own. And I wasn't about to go and get Kenshin involved 'cause I knew the bastard would commit me to a loony asylum the first chance he got. I love the guy like my own brother, but he worries too damn much. He needs to relax some.

So all I got to me are my fists, a pair of brass knuckles, a baseball bat, which don't really count 'cause it's my home security, and a 12-gauge pump shotgun, my personal favourite. This son-of-a-bitch packs the biggest punch like y'all can only imagine… unless you've seen too many action movies… like I did.

It was about nine o'clock at that time so I figured I'd get some shit done that needed to get done. Like pay my rent, for one. I went up to the landlord's place and handed it all to him in a one-shot deal, including next month's. Felt pretty good. I mean, it beats bein' in debt, know what I mean?

Anyway, after that, I went back to my place and made some breakfast. I always had cereal. If you wanna know why, it's 'cause of two things. One, I'm a shitty cook. Two, it's cheap and great for the munchies. Either that or goin' out for a burger. Only time that ever happened is if Kats asked me out to dinner… and I wasn't afraid of him rapin' me. Haha, nah, that's bullshit. But… yeah, don't kid yourself, he's tried gettin' in my pants.

So I was thinkin' about it. Who coulda been Megumi's pimp? I mean, I'm not the kind of guy who usually ends up rubbin' shoulders with those kinds of motherfuckers. I'd beat the shit out of 'em and leave 'em hangin' upside down from the downtown bridge bleedin' like a stuck pig. Man… that makes me think of pork… I'm hungry, I'll be back in a bit.

A couple hours passed where I did nothing but sit on my ass playing some more guitar, tryin' to figure out who I'd go to ask about Megumi or her pimp. I thought long and hard about it. Who the hell did I know who was associated with underground shit like that? Katsu was kind of in the know, but that was only because of an old ex-boyfriend of his he kept on good terms with. Kenshin knew things.

At the time, I was thinking way too far out of the box. If only I'd've known the puzzle piece that was gonna fall right into my lap that minute when a knockin' came at my door. I looked at it for a second, my eyes like cherry tomatoes and my body feelin' numb as cold turkey. I got up and walked on over, opening it up to find some motherfucker standing there as if he knew who I was.

This punk looked American, some white fucker who made sure to let you know he had balls just by the way he looked at you. He was shorter than me, but who wasn't, usually? I could tell he was packin', too. Don't ask how, it's just body-language. You gotta know a lot of that to stay alive in these parts. He had a tattoo that ran from the back of his hand up his right arm. And even if he wore a clean cut suit, I could tell this fuck's seen his fair share of evil. He just had that look.

I leaned on my door, cocking my head his way so he knew I was busy and I wasn't in the mood for dealin' with assholes tryin' to sell me shit, "Somethin' I can do for you, bud?"

He didn't say much to me, except when he handed me this wad of cash rolled up nice and tight. When I got around to counting it afterward, it all came up to two large ones. I wasn't ready to just accept it though. There was a catch. There had to be, "You're Sanosuke, right?"

Now, I'm not gonna deny I wanted this asshole out of my doorway, but he wasn't gonna budge unless I threw him out the window or something like that. Still, I found it kinda weird he knew my name 'cause I had no fuckin' clue who he was, "Who wants to know, slick?"

He smiled at me, this slimy fuckin' grin through painted white teeth. He mighta looked clean on the outside, but with the way he was actin', I could tell this guy was greasy. Somethin' about him just didn't feel right, "I'd like to pass on a word of thanks. If it wasn't for you, she'd probably be dead. And she's one of my favourites. So, from her, and myself, to you, thank you, Sano,"

If I hadn't been thinkin' so much about her, that woulda probably bounced right off my forehead, "Who's 'she'?"

The greaser gave me a weird look for a second like the 'she' was rhetorical or somethin', "You are the man, who saved Megumi, aren't you?"

Just like that, I was about ready to throw him out that window with his money… well, alright, I'da kept the money, but I wanted to kill that motherfucker!

It didn't take long before I grabbed him by his shirt and tossed him into my place, closing the door and lockin' it. When I looked back at him, he had a knife out, gettin' ready to charge my ass. It was a good thing I knew how to handle him. I just grabbed his wrist, then his neck and slammed him against the wall. Man did he look pissed! He was strugglin' his ass off against me. I wasn't gonna be moved though.

We were face-to-face, my forehead pushin' against his so his head stayed against the wall and he wouldn't try some smart-ass shit. Now that I think about it, I'm pretty thankful Kats didn't walk on us 'cause… well, alright, he'da helped out. But still, after that, I could totally see him trying to get some the rest of the day. Even if he is screwin' with me… sometimes I just gotta wonder with him.

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME, YOU FILTHY SHIT!"

Haha, yeah, that got me laughin' inside. I mean, by the time I was finished with him, I forgot about that. But lookin' back just gives me a tingly feelin' of nostalgia, "Alright… let's talk straight!"

I cracked the bitch's head against my wall, bringin' him to the floor. He was a screamer, I won't lie to ya. But I had him under control. This was gonna be a messy job. Just the fact that he was packin' a knife was enough to tell me that much. It's either that, or he was plannin' on killin' me anyway.

So I got him up from there and slammed his face in a couple times. The guy was cryin' after that. I could see why. Shit, I put four or five dents into my fuckin' wall. Came to show I still had the touch from playin' muscle back in the old days when me and Kenshin did the whole vigilante thing. Well, that's not countin' the fact that I beat four or five guys to death just the night before.

After a good ten minutes, this guy was nice and raw. I could see some bruises that were gonna look mighty nice the next day comin' up on his eyes and cheek bones. But he looked like he was about ready to talk.

I walked over to my kitchen and brought over a chair to my livin' room for him to sit down in and a dish rag. I had to pick his ass up otherwise he was just gonna keep stumblin' like a dizzy fool and I stuffed the rag in his mouth to shut him up.

Just to be careful, I checked him for other guns and shit 'cause I knew this guy had to be packin' some other shit aside from that knife. You don't go up to some cat's door just like that without some insurance, I knew that much.

I didn't find much. A snub-nose .38 hidden in his pants, his car keys, an old Caddy from what I could tell, and his wallet. No ID. That was at least one smart move on his part. Still, comin' up here like this, it didn't feel right. I figured it was a good time to start the questions,

"Who do you work for?"

The son of a bitch was persistent. I beat him up, but damn well better than any other muscle-head was gonna do to him, that's for sure. Keepin' a lock and key on his info was a bad idea, especially when it comes to me. See, I only look like some idiot who just makes the muscle happen. The fact is nobody really knows just how fucked up I can get. If I need information, I don't give a damn what it takes to get it. I got my limits. But as far as inflicting pain's concerned, there weren't a lot of guys who could match up to me when it came to torture.

"You… you don't… don't know what you're… doing…"

"Then you seriously don't know who the fuck I am," I blasted a punch right to his ribcage. I could feel at least two of them crackin' 'cause of that hit. And that was me being merciful. The bad part's comin' up real soon,

"Look, man. I'll admit. Right from the start, you striked me as the kind of fucker who usually gets his way with your suit, and this kinda greasy air about you. I don't like it. Fact is, just lookin' at you's makin' me sick right now. Almost feels like I gotta go wash my hands or somethin'. Anyway, I'm not gonna give no ultimatums 'cause if there's one thing I'll give to guys like you, it's the fact that they're like cockroaches. Death's not much of a playin' chip. But, what I can promise you is that if you don't tell me what I wanna know…"

I took the knife he had planned to use on me, a nice little ice-pick with a green kinda false-jade handle on it and I looked him in the eye. He didn't look too afraid, which was pissin' me off. Just a bit more time, I thought. That's all it'll take. Jus' a bit more time,

"I'm gonna start by cuttin' off your fingers. When they all come off, I'll move on to your hands. And for that, I'm gonna need a much bigger knife, and knives I got. Don't you worry 'bout a thing. I'll take care of you good, boy. Now from there, I'm gonna get you some morphine 'cause I know otherwise you're gonna be screamin' like a bitch worse than without it. But one thing's for sure, man. I ain't afraid to tear you apart,"

He was stewin' now. He was eyein' me like I was crazy, but I could tell he knew I was crazy enough to do more than just the shit I was talkin' about 'cause of the way I was smilin' at him. I'll tell ya, if I was a tiger, I'd be king of the jungle and the goddamn savannah. Lions wouldn't have shit on me,

"Now… ready to talk, boy?"

He didn't answer me at first. He just ended up spittin' in my face. It was bloody on top of it. Not a nice thing to take to the face, even if you knew you had it comin'. Well, that was it, I thought. I had to give a sigh 'cause of how easily this motherfucker coulda just walked away and gone to warn whoever it was he worked for. He wasn't the pimp, I knew that for sure. He didn't have the same kinda swagger. Or a bodyguard. He was just a grunt. So it's basically a 'what goes around, comes around' kinda deal.

"Alright, man. You brought this upon yourself," I picked up my cell and dialled up the number of the one guy I knew who was cold enough to haul this sorry son-of-a-bitch out of here in pieces and do a good clean-up job on a good price. We went way back, so I knew he'd be able to help me out without a second word about it,

"Yeah… I need to talk to Shinomori Aoshi… tell him it's Sano," I grabbed him by the collar and started walkin' toward the bathroom. He was wrigglin' like crazy, but he couldn't move. I paralyzed his joints all over. He wasn't goin' nowhere, "Yeah, Aoshi? Yeah, I need you to come down. Can you be here in a half-hour? ... yeah… yeah, real messy. Bring another guy if you have to… thanks,"

I could hear him continuin' to struggle, tryin' to get away from me. He was done, though, man. From then on it was nothin' but blood, guts and a shitload of adrenaline. I was gonna get whatever I could out of this fool, and I was gonna do it all with a wide-ass grin. This was gonna be a prelude to a fuckin' symphony. Once I got my info, there was no place I was gonna go 'til I killed Megumi's pimp. She gave me a second chance. I was gonna return the favour. No matter what it cost, I had to.

AN: Come on, people. I need feedback here. What can be improved? What do you like? What do you hate? What kind of characters do you wanna see get involved? Let me know, everybody! Be back soon with another chapter. Peace 'n' love.