***Chapter 28 had some of the most amazing reviews I've ever received! Lots of breeding ground for ideas there (yes, I do often take inspiration from the things that reviewers tell me; plus this chapter's suggestions were pretty much in line with what I was already planning).

I wish that I could've written this chapter faster (because it often takes JessieDark to prompt me into writing, which I appreciate, but which is bad of me), but it took me a while to decide on the playing out of the fight scene…plus, it's O-Week…partypartyparty…***


Although Sanzo generally had a fairly skewed sense of morality, there was not a single humane thing about the way in which he was treating Hazel.

Crouching down next to the loanshark's body, Sanzo gripped his hand in Hazel's hair and pulled his face up from the ground. Blood from his broken nose was pouring unabated down his lips and chin, staining pale skin a disgusting red colour.

"Having fun yet, Grosse?" Sanzo slapped the man none-too-lightly on both cheeks, trying to shock the dazed look from his eyes- but it only seemed to throw Hazel further from full awareness.

Coughing, the loanshark opened and closed his mouth, obviously trying to say something. Sanzo had to admit, he was a little curious about what the normally-arrogant man would have to say in this situation; but fuck if the man's accent didn't shit him up the wall.

"I…I…" For once in his life, Hazel seemed unable to form a proper sentence. The idea made Sanzo smirk; he'd actually managed to shut the insufferable loanshark up.

Sanzo released Hazel's hair and the man's head dropped straight back to the floor, settling into the thick carpeting with a muffled thump. Hazel let out another pathetic groan as Sanzo stood, using the back of the man's skull as a place to put his hand and boost himself up.

Hazel really wasn't putting up much of a fight. It was almost…disappointing. As pleasing as it was to grind the guy into the ground and have his plan go damn near perfectly, Sanzo couldn't help but wish for a little of the bloodlust anger that Hazel occasionally showed.

It was always just that little bit more exciting to know that he'd physically bested someone who put up a good battle. Like the guy he'd taken out from Gojyo's apartment building: he'd been stabbed pretty brutally in the forearm that day before managing to land a slug in the man's skull.

It was lucky that the city's police refused to touch any murders that occurred between members of different organisations; they were messy cases, and the cops were actually happy that the criminals were exterminating each other. Otherwise, the amount of his own blood that Sanzo got everywhere would've been damning evidence.

As long as a single murder didn't turn into a string of deaths and then an all-out war, the cops pretended that nothing was happening. They'd do the same for Hazel's death- the man was notorious in the city, and the authorities would probably be thankful for the reduction in debt collection-related violence.

Sanzo had free reign, as the only person who would ever come to Hazel's aid was Gat; and the bodyguard was most probably dead by now. Hazel didn't even have the backing of an organisation, as he was freelance and an unlikeable bastard. There was no one to take revenge for him.

"Wake up, you piece of shit," Sanzo sighed, using his foot to turn the loanshark's unresponsive body over. This was going to be no fun unless Hazel was awake and aware, but the man's eyes weren't even opening up.

Huffing impatiently, Sanzo retrieved his Smith and Wesson from its hiding place, taking careful aim and firing with a loud crack.

A bullet sank itself into the floor less than half an inch from Hazel's face, his light hair fluttering from the gun's discharge and impact. The loanshark's eyes snapped wide at the loud noise, a gasp escaping him- though it soon turned to a cough, the blood from his nose running down his throat thanks to the angle of his head.

Sanzo watched Hazel struggle to breathe for a few moments before deciding that a death not caused directly by his own hand just wasn't good enough. He couldn't let the man choke on his own blood.

With an ease that was more practiced than it should have been, Sanzo kicked Hazel's head to the side before stomping his foot directly into the loanshark's gut. Hazel made an unpleasant retching noise, his stomach expelling its contents all over the carpet and removing the blood from his throat.

Sanzo's nose wrinkled; this was disgusting. As determined as he felt, it wasn't going to be possible for him to spend too much time here. The smell was already beginning to irritate him.

Suddenly, a hand lashed out and caught at Sanzo's ankle, the grip surprisingly tight. How had he gotten his arms free of the jacket? Sanzo hadn't noticed a single movement. "What the fuck?"

"S-Sanzo…Why a-…" Hazel cut himself off, coughing again and wincing. "Why a-are you…"

"Because I fucking hate you," Sanzo snarled, trying to shake Hazel's hand from his leg. It wasn't working, and he was almost being pulled off-balance.

"Is…this about G…Gojyo…?" Hazel's eyes began to droop again, his words slurring a little from drowsiness and pain. Sanzo's lip curled, his fingers tightening around the revolver he hadn't yet put away.

"No," Sanzo snapped viciously, cocking the gun and placing a bullet directly into the exposed underside of Hazel's wrist. The loanshark's fingers instantly released Sanzo's ankle, and he let out a damn near inhuman scream of pain as blood streamed from the torn veins and artery.

Frowning, Sanzo glared at the spots of blood he could faintly see on the slightly-reflective surface of his shoes. He knew the mess would also be on his pants, but the dark material hid it well; he was still pissed that an integral part Hazel was staining his outfit, though.

Maybe he'd throw this suit out when he was done…

A loud sobbing brought Sanzo back to reality. If he didn't finish this soon, it was possible that Hazel would bleed out of his own accord; and Sanzo had a lot more to do before the other man died.

"Oh, shut up. Be a man, for once in your sad little life."

Hazel gasped repeatedly, trying to work past the tears and sobs of pain so that he could speak. It was more than a minute before any real words escaped his mouth.

"I'm…sorry…"

Scoffing, Sanzo guessed that this was a weak attempt to try and make him feel pity and release Hazel. It wasn't going to work. "Sorry for what, asshole?"

"For hurtin' y-your…lover…"

Sanzo felt his body begin to tremble as pure rage took over. His lover? He didn't have a fucking lover; he never had, and he probably never would. Gojyo was just a convenient body, who merely happened to be exceptionally attractive. There was nothing else there, as he'd said time and time again.

"I've had enough of your pathetic whimpering," Sanzo spat out. Hazel, eyes widening at the manic violence in the other man's voice, instinctively tried to roll his body away from the imminent threat; he didn't get far.

Stepping one foot on either side of Hazel's torso, Sanzo dropped to sit on his victim's stomach, knees pinning the loanshark's arms to his body. It didn't actually occur to him, but the position was an exact replica of Gojyo's when the redhead had blindsided him in his own apartment; only this time, there was absolutely no chance of sex being involved afterwards.

With Hazel effectively trapped, the man letting out slight whimpers of fear, Sanzo reared his fist back.

"Oh Lord, please, S-Sanzo…I'm beggin' y-y-y…" Hazel's voice dropped to a squeak and he gagged when Sanzo's knuckles drove into his upper throat, where Sanzo guessed the man's larynx would be.

Judging by the desperate gasping sounds the man was now making, he'd guessed right.

"The way you speak pisses me off. If you're lucky, your voice won't be gone forever." A bullet to the throat would probably have been more effective in silencing the man permanently, but it would also probably have meant Hazel's immediate death. Sanzo still wasn't ready to end the torment.

The distraught look on the loanshark's face, combined with pale skin that was stained from cheeks to chin with drying blood, actually made Sanzo laugh.

It was insane; it was sadistic. But it was laughter all the same.

Hazel Grosse was completely broken, and it had been by Sanzo's own hands. At this point, death would have been the merciful option; after all, the proud narcissist had already been begging for release from the pain, and that was while he'd still been able to breathe relatively well.

Sanzo had won.

Standing up and stepping back, Sanzo looked at the silver gun in his hands, planning his next move. As a sudden idea occurred to him, he tucked the weapon away and smiled brightly. Reaching down, he pulled a small yet sharp blade from the sheath strapped firmly around his lower calf.

"You've always wanted me to play with your dick, correct?"


Gojyo giggled. He wasn't entirely sure what was funny, but he just felt so good, so utterly euphoric, that he couldn't help but laugh gleefully.

He hadn't been this happy since the last time he'd been fucked into next week by Sanzo.

Lying back in his hospital bed with morphine flowing through his system, Gojyo couldn't feel the needles in his arms, the gashes and wounds all over his body, or the metal rods that had been inserted into his left hand. All he could feel was a wonderful high.

"Why didn't I try this shit earlier?" The redhead wondered aloud in a blissed-out tone. He felt no pain, and even his constant state of arousal had disappeared; this was perfection, well and truly.

It was almost like being completely trashed, only without the headache and nausea that often accompanied Gojyo's heavy drinking.

He felt healthy enough to just stand up and walk out of the hospital…but he didn't really want to move. He was a little worried that the pain would return if he did try and stand up.

Maybe he should ask the hospital to call Sanzo…he really wanted to talk to the guy, for whatever reason. Gojyo giggled again; the blonde was so cute when he was angry.

Actually, now that he thought about it, why wasn't Sanzo here with him? Gojyo could vaguely remember something about his ribs and some yelling…but he just couldn't pinpoint what had happened earlier.

Not that it mattered; none of it mattered. How could something matter when everything just felt so good? Gojyo wished that he had his cell phone, so that he could call his boyfriend.

Gojyo started laughing hysterically, gasping when his throat didn't quite work- but still not feeling any pain. How the Hell could he possibly consider Sanzo to be his boyfriend? They'd been on two dates, if you could consider lunch together a 'date'; and one of those had ended pretty badly.

Gojyo finally got his laughter under control, grinning madly and relaxing even further into the mattress. He truly didn't care what Sanzo was to him; he just liked the idea of talking to the man.

He still felt fantastic, but having Sanzo there would just make things even better.

It was only another five minutes, though, before Gojyo began to crash. He slowly became aware of a pain in his hand, growing sharper by the second until it almost made him want to cut the thing off.

Shrugging, Gojyo didn't waste another thought before pressing the call button. He needed more morphine…he'd just come out of surgery, after all. Another dose would be fine.

It didn't take long for a nurse to come; this time it was a different one from the woman that Sanzo had terrorised. Gojyo was actually glad that Professor Hwang hadn't answered his call, as she might've vetoed another dose, but the redhead knew that he could charm the nurse. She seemed young and inexperienced, the kind of girl who would readily agree to anything he said.

Putting his most pained, pathetic look on his face, Gojyo looked up at the nurse from underneath his curtain of hair- which he'd actually talked the nurse from the previous day into washing and combing.

"I hate to bother you, miss, but I'm in a lot of pain right now." He pouted a little, watching the look in her eyes go from appreciative to worried.

"Oh, no! Would you like me to give you some more painkillers, sir?" God damn, this was easy. She hadn't even bothered to check and see when his last dose had been.

"If you wouldn't mind, honey…oh, and call me Gojyo." The girl blushed at the falsely-affectionate nickname, and then reddened even more with the permission to refer to Gojyo by his first name.

"A-anything, Gojyo," she stuttered out with pure innocence, the kind that couldn't ever be faked. This hospital really needed some older female nurses, or maybe some straight men…and a few lesbians…the others were just too easy to manipulate.

"Thanks," Gojyo said with a bright smile. The girl nearly tripped over her own feet as she rushed from the room, quickly grabbing the necessary supplies. She was back within a couple of minutes, setting up to adjust the drug into Gojyo's I.V. and allow him to fall back into euphoria.

Truthfully, Gojyo should've been a little concerned about the way that the girl seemed more interested in staring at him than paying attention to her work; but the anticipation of finding that pain-free utopia was overriding his fairly-nonexistent common sense. He just wanted to feel that happiness again…

"Alright…all done, Gojyo! Feel free to call if you need anything at all- it's really no bother." The nurse spent a lot longer packing up than she did setting everything in place; Gojyo could only assume that she didn't want to leave him.

Yes, it was an arrogant thought; but the redhead had experienced so much of this behaviour that he just couldn't think anything else. Retail workers, waitresses, nurses, even the pissed-off partners of 'straight' male clients he'd been caught fucking: they could all be charmed. And, if he laid it on thick enough, they often tried to stay with him. Too bad he'd never had a single urge to see any of them ever again.

As the nurse finally left the room, Gojyo rested back and closed his eyes, waiting for the morphine to kick in again.

Before he could feel any sort of high, though, a horrible nausea rolled deep in his stomach, his organs feeling like they were trying to burst through his skin. Breath suddenly coming in short, erratic pants, the redhead curled over himself and tried to make the urge to vomit go away. "I…don't feel so good…"

No one heard his quiet admission, and no one witnessed as he rolled over, his proper food-starved stomach sending acids and bile all over the sterile hospital floor.

He was tired…so tired…


Sanzo tucked the knife away, wiping his blood-covered hands on Hazel's discarded jacket. A sound coming through the open window told him that the loanshark's now-unattached dick had landed in a bush somewhere…it seemed oddly appropriate.

The negative side was that Hazel had passed out halfway through the impromptu surgery; but his screaming had been a little too loud anyway, even after Sanzo had muffled him with a shirt from the wardrobe. Maybe it was for the best that he was no longer conscious.

Pulling Hazel's trousers back into place and refastening the belt, in order to leave a little 'surprise' for whoever found the body, Sanzo finally began feeling fulfilled. It was poetic justice: Hazel, who always wanted into Sanzo's pants, would never be able to fuck anyone for as long as he lived.

Which might not be very long, anyway.

Sanzo froze in his movements when he heard a siren in a nearby street. They might not have even been coming to Hazel's, but there was always a chance that the neighbours had reacted to the gunshots or the screaming and called the cops.

Thankfully, the police were idiots: having their siren on was the perfect way to allow Sanzo to escape in time. Despite the fact that no one would investigate the murder itself, they would still attend a call-out; and Sanzo was probably well-known to the cops as someone involved in the prostitution, gambling and drug-dealing aspects of the organisation. The police were still trying to stamp those areas out, and so he couldn't risk being caught here.

Glancing at the window and then back to Hazel, Sanzo mentally calculated how long he had until the sirens would possibly arrive. 'Two minutes…maybe less…'

He had to kill Hazel now. If he didn't…

Sanzo was hit by the memory of what he'd threatened to do to Hazel the day that the man had appeared at the café. If he didn't kill Hazel now, there was something worse he could do.

Roughly shoving the man onto his back, Sanzo stood and took aim with his revolver. A single bullet would be enough…right there…

His anatomical knowledge serving him well once again, Sanzo placed a bullet directly into Hazel's neck, hopefully severing the spinal cord.

The man might die from blood loss, or he might be found quickly and live on- after a lengthy hospital stay, at the very least. Not that it would be much of a life: castrated, possibly para- or quadriplegic, and maybe even mute

As he lifted himself through the window of Hazel's bedroom, Sanzo took one final look at the scene he had created: Hazel Grosse, facedown in a puddle of his own blood and filth.

He felt entirely satisfied, and it didn't even matter if the man lived or died. Either way, Sanzo had done it, and he doubted that anything could break his good mood. He'd gotten his revenge…as well as several thousand dollars that had been in a briefcase he'd seen on the way out.

He wasn't sure why he'd taken the briefcase; but he'd think about that later. Right now, he just wanted to think about Hazel's face when he'd realised what was about to happen to his favourite body part. Making for his car as fast as he could without being too suspicious, Sanzo roared away from the curb and drove several miles away before pulling over to the side of the road.

Whipping out his cell, he turned it back on for the first time since Dokugakuji's call that morning and called his answering machine. He wasn't surprised when the mechanical voice informed him of eight new messages; most of them would probably be a furious Doku, and one was most likely Hakkai checking in.

He didn't expect the female voice that accompanied the first message.

"Mr Sanzo, this is Professor Hwang from the University Private Hospital. I need you to come in as soon as you possibly can…it's about the patient, Gojyo Sha."