I've had this little short on my computer for a very, VERY long time. I always wanted to make it a longer story. Perhaps I still will. But until then I will share this bit with you. This is a bit different than many of my other shorts. I wanted this to be a bit of a darker story, but I think I didn't really reach it in this.
On to the story!

Title: The Prisoner.

Words: 2,547

Character: Sanosuke/Kenshin
Genre: Action/Drama
Rating: M

"Well isn't he a cute one." Said a gravely voice. Sanosuke glanced up from the weights in his hand to see the canvas covered wagon pull away from the gate, leaving behind the latest group of prisoners The newcomers were quickly surrounded by numinous guards as they were striped of their clothes.

"Lookie at that red hair. Long enough to pass as a woman." Snickered someone in the group of thugs that had gathered for the new pickings.

"Yeah and that pink gi, too bad they won't let him keep it."

"He's gonna be my new bitch." Said another.

Sanosuke dropped the weights and shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants as he ambled his way to the outside of the crowd. With all the gangs toadies out for the same new guy…Sano had to get a look at him. Ten new prisoners were lined up and the guards slowly made their way down the line, forcing the men to strip naked and hand over their outside clothes. The one everyone was eying was easy to find. A shorter man with blood-red hair long enough to hit his hips was standing dead center of the line. With that hair, his short stature and soft features, Sano felt nothing but sorry for the new guy. He was going to be the new sex slave to all the leaders in no time. Maybe he would have a chance if he shaved off that hair.

The red-head stood there, arms at his side, eyes straight forward but not seeing anything as the guards stepped up to him. With quick, jerky movements, he yanked his fuchsia gi off his shoulders and tossed it into the basket of civilian clothes. Next went his shoes and then his cream hakama pants and lastly the loincloth-like wrappings from his hips. The guards moved on and a new wave of shouts, whistles and cat-calls erupted from around Sanosuke as more men joined to gawk at the fresh meat. Sano lowered his eyes for a moment and growled at the disgusting suggestions the men were throwing around about the red-head.

Normally the different gang factions stayed well away from each other, but at the moment they were nearly shoulder the shoulder, and the curiosity was bringing others closer as well. The new guy stood stone still, head up, eyes forward, arms at his side as if he wasn't bare naked. Sano could see that though he was pretty in the face like woman, his body was nothing but hard lines and angles, this man was not a stranger to hard work. Muscles stood out on his lean body. His skin was pale but covered in scars. A particularly nasty set of scars slashed from his chest halfway across his stomach. And an X shaped scar seemed carved into his cheek. It was the only thing that marred his delicate features.

Sanosuke suddenly wondered what the poor bastard did to earn himself a ticket into this Hell hole. He glanced to the side, seeing the group of guards return with a basket of prison clothes. Each new man had a new set of beige clothes shoved into his chest. The red-head was no different. Drab, cream-brown hakama, tan gi and a bit of rope to wrap around his middle to keep the "One size only" pants from falling off his rail-like body. Once all the men were dressed and barked at by the guards, they were released to the wolves.

The prisoners descended upon him like buzzards after the lion walked away from its kill. Sano stepped back and walked away. It was the same story ever month or so. A new batch of prisoners equaled new gang recruits, new muscle or a new piece of ass for the sex starved men. He wondered how many men were going to kill themselves fighting over the guy with the long red hair. He hoped it was a lot, sick bastards.

But almost as soon as Sano lost interest in the newcomer he heard a shout of pain. He glanced over his shoulder and was surprised to find one of the muscle from the Ichigo gang on the ground, cradling his broken hand to his chest. His fingers were stuck in various directions and tears of pain welled up in his eyes but he didn't dare let them fall and lose his respect. Surprised Sanouke glanced up, seeing the red-head still standing there, his mouth a hard slash in his face, eyes hard and narrow. The other men started forward but with one glance of those eyes they all hesitated. Instantly, as if a switch was thrown, the gang members turned away from him and fell upon the other newcomers. The other prisoners gave up quickly, eager to be accepted, or fought the best they could, only to end up at the bottom of the pecking order of their new gang.

The red-head wandered over to a quiet corner of the yard, and sat on a stone bench. Sanosuke found himself walking over to him. "Hey." He said. leaning against the wall next the bench.

"I'll not join your gang, that I won't" the new guy snapped, hardly giving him a glance from the corner of his eye.

Sanosuke held his hands out. "Whoa there newcomer. I don't want you in my gang, I'm not even in a gang."

"You have a tattoo." The other said simply, eyes still forward, taking in every person in the yard. As if memorizing them.

Sano had forgotten, suddenly the black mark on his cheek burned in memory and he placed a hand over the slash of kanji. Every gang had their own mark, a tattoo that everyone wore on their cheek. Everyone had to belong to something, if they refused to join then they were jumped in. If they lost the fight they were held down and the mark was forced on their skin.

"Nah, Man, this is my own mark. I'm too strong for any of these jerks to hold me down. Finally I just gave myself a tattoo so they would leave me alone." He thought for a moment. "I'd be very careful and watch your back. A man with no ink is fair game."

"Why did you pick the symbol for wicked?" he asked.

Sano looked down at the guy. He had hardly even spared a glance at him, yet he knew he had a tat and what symbol it was. "Personal reasons." He said. "Seems to suit me, I'm a fair fighter but always win against their dirty tricks." He moved…slowly, to sit next to the man on the bench. "I'm Sagara Sanosuke."

The man finally turned his head, but only slightly, but his eyes gave him full attention. "Himura Kenshin."

Purple eyes. Kenshin had purple eyes. Interesting color. But it was just another strike against him, something else that made him more desirable to those men that were dragging their new recruits to their leaders.

"What did you do?" Kenshin asked. Relaxing a little now that the muscle heads seemed content with the newcomers they had. "To get you here." He added, turning his face to him.

Sano shrugged. "Little of this, little of that. Stole lots, was a member of a resistance group."

"I thought the name Sagara sounded familiar," Kenshin said.

"And what did you do to earn yourself a place in this Hole?" Sanosuke leaned back, crossed his long legs out in front of him.

"I fought in the revolution." He said simply.

"Whoa, a soldier?" The revolution had lost the battle; most of the warriors had been killed as punishment.

"I was an assassin. Known as Battousai, the Manslayer."

Sanosuke whistled low. "Wow man, I'm surprised they didn't just kill you. I guess they thought a slow punishment here in the Hole was better than a fast death."

"Apparently." Was all he said.

The Hole was a work camp, a prison where they sent men to work until they died. They were given few clothes and were hardly fed, and they worked almost every day in the forest. Every two weeks they were given one day away from the forest to recover and do whatever they wanted. Which was mostly fighting and gathering new members for their gang, like today.

"I admire you for staying away from the gangs, that I am." Kenshin said suddenly. "Even tattooing your own face, you have a strong ki and sense of self and of a strong sense of honor."

Sanosuke raised an eyebrow. "You gather all that just from the bits that I've told you?"

Kenshin's smile was soft, almost wistful. "I'm a pretty good judge of character, that I am."

"Huh." Sano grunted, leaning back against the stone bench. "So where are you from?"

"Nowhere. I'm a wanderer. As an assassin, I had no home or family, too dangerous to have any family."

"Good point." He nodded. "So there's no one to miss you, eh?"

Kenshin shook his head.

"Good, nothing worse than thinkin' about those that might be missing you when you're in here."

…. . . ….

Kenshin looked down the rows of wooden bunks strapped together with rope. Row upon row, with various walls jutting out. It made the dorm look like a maze. A dark, dirty maze of misery. Sanosuke sat on his thin mattress and pointed to the one across from him.

"This one's empty if ya want it. Not many like to be around me."

"Why?" Kenshin tested the mattress. It crinkled at his touch, as if stuffed with leaves or old paper. When he sat on it, he could feel the wooden boards underneath. He didn't even want to think of what might be living in the mattress.

Sansuke shrugged. "Because I don't conform."

Kenshin watched as the taller man reached under the bed and found a thin wire that was wrapped around a nail head that was sticking out from his bed. He gave the wire a yank and Kenshin was shocked to find a rat half the size of a cat on the end of the wire.

"They don't feed us here, so we have to find our own food." He took the rat off the snare and set the wire back under his bed. "We'll eat good tonight. I'll share some of mine, then teach you how to catch your own."

Kenshin shuddered, ever so slightly; he wasn't that desperate, not yet. "Thank you, but no, Sanosuke."

"Suit yourself, Kenshin. Like I said, they don't feed us, not often at least. The only food you get is what you catch here and in the forest. It's easy to catch food here. The work horses mean grain and grain means…" He held the rat up.

"I think I'll try my luck in the forest."

"Good luck to you then." Sanosuke said sincerely as he stood up and went outside to clean his rat before they called curfew.

… . . …

"Are you sure you sure you don't want a bite?" Sanosuke asked. The small rat body was threaded onto a stick and was roasting on the fire in the iron stove. One of many that sat in the middle of the dorm. The smell was not unlike roasting chicken; it mingled with all the other scents of various cooking creatures that the other men had caught. Those that had no luck tightened their belts and cursed their fate for that night.

Kenshin sat on his bed a few feet away, one leg pulled up to his chest, the other hanging off the bed. He smiled and nodded, "I'm sure Sanosuke. You eat it."

Sanosuke chuckled, realizing it had been quite a long time from the last time he laughed. "Don't worry Man, I will." He pulled the headless and tailless animal from the burning wood in the stove and gave it a test squeeze. Perfectly done. He stood up straight and wandered back to his bed as he gnawed a bite from the animal. He glanced up the dorm, past the maze of walls and nearly coughed on the hunk of hot meat. "Watch yourself Kenshin. A gang boss is coming." He warned in a low voice as he lounged back on his bed.

"Oro?" Kenshin glanced to his left and spotted a large man surrounded by at least a half a dozen muscled goons work their way into their section and pause a few feet from his bed. The chubby man stepped forward. His head was shaved and his face was pock-marked. He stood a head taller than Kenshin yet even though he was pudgy compared to his muscled escorts, he was not weak. Kenshin could see the muscles twitching under his skin; he had arms like tree trunks and hands that could pop the head of a man like an overripe melon. He watched as they advanced, spreading out to corner him in the little nook of their bunks.

"I heard what you did to that Ichigo member." The large man said. The other men fought smiles at their wounded enemy. "I hear you won't take ink." He added when Kenshin made no move to answer him.

"That's right." Kenshin said. Hardly sparing the gang boss a glance.

"Well. There are certain advantages to getting a tattoo. You won't have to worry about one being forced on you ever again. You're in this Hole for the rest of your life pretty-boy. Do you want to be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life?"

Kenshin tipped his head slightly, taking in the ugly, bruise-like tattoo that covered his fat face. "I would in fact. Better than getting that splotch or any other mark on my face, other than what I already have." he indicated to the X shaped scar.

"Splotch?" The boss growled, puffing his jowls. The other members pressed closer and Sanosuke had just enough time to set his rat down before the whole lot of them pounced on Kenshin.

"Hey!" Sanosuke jumped to his feet and grabbed one of the men from the pile that held the red-head down. He tossed the man over his head as if he weighed no more than his thin pillow. He turned to reach for another but the muscle shifted suddenly and they backed away all at once. All except the largest who was struggling weakly against Kenshin's arm pressing around his throat. His feet kicked and scrapped at the ground as he tried to find his footing but Kenshin refused to give him an inch.

Kenshin's face was grim, yet calm as he eyed the boss. The massive man and all his goons watched in amazement as a man half the size of a normal man was easily controlling the largest of them all. In no time the struggling goon slouched as his air supply was cut off completely. And just as the man let himself go, Kenshin released him and he dropped to the floor.

"How….How?" The boss muttered as he watched his favorite struggle for air and consciousness.

"Next time I get one of you in a head lock, I won't let him go until he's dead." Kenshin said as he turned to sit back on his bed.

A/N So as I said before, this was to be a multi-chapter story. Kaoru was even going to be involved at some point. Does this sound like the start to a story you would want to read, Dear Readers? Please let me know in a review! Thank you for taking the time to read my drabbles!