"I'm not a wolf," he yelled. "What the hell kind of bullshit are you trying to feed me?"
Saitou rolled his eyes and groaned. Sanosuke had been screaming at him for the last fifteen minutes; their food was now cold and they had gotten no further than they had at the beginning of the night. Saitou had the strong urge to knock the younger man unconscious, but that would get them nowhere as well.
"Lower your voice, ahou. I have neighbors to be considerate of," Saitou asked, his common politeness masking the fact that it was an order. He picked up his cup of tea and took a sip from it.
"Yeah, wouldn't want the neighbors to know that Saitou Hajime is a complete loony!" Sanosuke screamed at the top of his lungs.
"Lower your voice," Saitou commanded.
"Or what? You'll eat me? Fine. Eat me, wolf of Mibu!"
"Ahou ..."
"What kind of lie is that anyway? A shapeshifter. Who'd believe that? I know I'm superstitious, but not that badly!" Sano leaned over the table and gave Saitou his best glare. "Why did you keep me in your house, really? What are you, just an old pervert, is that it?"
Saitou sneered and in that moment he really did look like a wolf. His canines were bared and his eyes seemed somehow fiercer. "Why the hell would I make up a story like this? It really happened and now it's happened to you. I wouldn't be keeping you here if I didn't have to. It's not my job to baby-sit a stubborn boy like you, but now because of you I've been given this task."
"You're talking like you got me pregnant. Or are you going to tell me I've transformed into a woman now, too? Oh, no, wait! I know! I'm really a rooster. A shapeshifting rooster!"
"Don't mock me ..."
"I'm out of here. Whatever in hell you had planned for me, you can just forget it, Saitou!"
He began to stand up, but Saitou reached across the table and grabbed him by the hair before Sanosuke even saw him move. Saitou's hand was clamped over the other man's mouth. Sanosuke's eyes flew wide open with shock and fear. Saitou's tea had spilled across the table when he moved and began dripping off the sides, settling into a pool on the hard wood floor.
"Must I remind you," Saitou asked, whispering dangerously low, "that I am now known as Gorou Fujita? Certain securities rely on my anonymity. Please refrain from screaming my name loud enough for people down the street to hear."
Sanosuke frowned deeply. He bit down on Saitou's hand, hard. Saitou made a surprised hiss and pulled his hands away quickly. Sanosuke jumped up abruptly and headed for the door, but as he slid the screen aside he felt a hand grab him and jerk the collar of his shirt.
"You don't know what is waiting for you out there," Saitou warned.
"Whatever is out there is better than being stuck in this house with you," Sanosuke spat, glaring over his shoulder at Saitou.
"You've never been stuck here; you're not my prisoner. You can come and go as you please." With that, Saitou abruptly released Sanosuke's collar.
"Oh yeah? Well what about just now? It might just be me but it looked like you didn't want me to leave."
"I wanted you to stop screaming my name, I never said you had to stay," corrected Saitou.
With a dark glare Sanosuke e darted off of Saitou's porch. As he was walking down the road, he heard something land on the ground behind him.
"You forgot your shoes," Saitou called out. Sanosuke looked back and saw him standing in front of his door lighting a cigarette and watching him leave.
"Fuck you!" Sanosuke screamed, grabbing his shoes off the dusty ground and running off.
Saitou watched as he disappeared around the corner of a dark city street. The roads were bathed in silver, illuminated by a near-full moon. Saitou looked up to it; it was only one day into its waning cycle. It was still too soon.
"I'll have to keep an eye on that boy," he said to himself before walking back into his house. There was no point in wasting good food, especially when prepared so meticulously. Saitou sat down at his table and stripped a piece of eel meat off the dead fish's bones. He stared at it reluctantly, wondering if he even had the time to finish his meal of rice and eel. "I had better get out there soon," he thought to himself. "The idiot is going to get himself killed."
Sanosuke's face burned red with anger as he stomped down the road. All this time he had questions he needed answered, reasons to see Saitou, and what happens? Saitou lies a horrible, absurd lie. He became even angrier when he thought about how Saitou probably thought he was going to buy it, and an extra sack of bullshit too.
Sanosuke kicked a rock down the street and watched it as it skipped so far that he couldn't see it anymore. As he walked and kicked around the stray pebble, he began to wonder about the holes that Saitou hadn't filled him in on. Who was Masayo? What the hell was the "Ou-sama"? How long had he really been unconscious? And was there any truth to the story Saitou had told about being bitten by a shapeshifter?
"That's it," Sano promised himself. "I don't care anymore. This obsession is getting out of hand. Better to leave the past in the past, just like Kenshin does. If I see Saitou again, I'll ignore him. Maybe. No! I will ignore him! Willpower, Sano, willpower!"
He eventually found his way to familiar streets and was able to get back to his home. The thought of curling up onto his own futon felt relaxing even before he got to his door. He stepped onto the porch, but before he could even touch the screen, a voice came from behind him.
"From the way things are going, I would think you forgot about me, Zanza..."
"Crap," swore Sanosuke inside his head. "Nice to hear from you Magori," he lied through his teeth.
The little toad-like man walked up to Sanosuke, looking as much as ever like he had just eaten something sour.
"I hope you haven't forgotten: you owe me money," Magori reminded Sanosuke.
Sanosuke rolled his eyes. "Look, I know I said I'd pay you back, but I've been ... ah ... sick. I couldn't go on the trip. Just give me a few more weeks, okay man?"
"I already gave you a few more weeks. Before that I gave you a few more days. What next? A few more years? I can't put up with that. It's not good business, you understand?"
"It's not like that," argued Sanosuke. "I've been going through a lot of ... a lot."
"Well, I hope you find comfort in the fact that you don't have to worry about any of it anymore," said Magori.
"Yeah I ... hey, what do you mean?" Sanosuke asked.
Magori reached inside his robe and pulled out a pistol. The new six-shooter gleamed silver, the rays of the moon causing the metal to glow brightly. He aimed the barrel at Sanosuke, who froze at the sight of it.
"I can't let myself be taken lightly. I'm going to make an example of you to all the other people that owe me. I'm sorry Sanosuke, but its just business," Magori chuckled in amusement, his expression crooked.
Sanosuke stared down the black barrel of the pistol. A distasteful cringle ran through him. He hated those things, those machines. And now he hated Magori, who was too much of a coward to fight without such an unfair piece of technology. To Sanosuke, a gun was cheating. He couldn't stand the sight of it.
"Point that thing away from me," Sanosuke growled.
Sanosuke heard he click of the trigger and reacted without thinking. He dove to the side and by some miracle the bullet missed him. But then he found himself on his back, cornered against a wall, and a gun barrel pointed at his head. He seethed, his rage boiling over like a pot of stew.
He yelled out and his eyes became a visionless with rage. "All the shit that's happened in the last few months ... Saitou, Masayo. Everybody is trying to screw with me! And now, this little prick thinks he can pull a gun on me!"
Before Magori had the chance to pull the trigger again, Sanosuke stood up and kicked the pistol out of the Magori's hands, who watched as it skidded down the road. Sanosuke punched Magori in the chest, sending the man back into the building across the road. Wood and dust scattered all around him, burying Magori in the debris.
Sanosuke smirked to himself. "I don't remember being this strong," he thought. "I must have been doing something right over the last few days of training. I could sure show Saitou not to mess around with me now!"
Sanosuke walked over to the pile where Magori lay. "Sorry. I got a little serious there." A confident smile curved his lips upwards.
There was no reaction from Magori.
"Oi! Magori! Get yer ass up! Get out of here before I tell the cops you're carryin' around a pistol." Sanosuke kicked the man's foot. There was still no reaction.
He leaned over the pile, and he felt as thought his heart had stopped working. A bitter taste rolled over his tongue, fear grabbing at his nerves. Magori's eyes were wide and staring upwards as if to the heavens, his mouth open in a voiceless scream. His robe was open, revealing a hole in his chest the size of a fist. Rib bones stuck out in every direction, and his heart was visible, tissue and blood scattered as though it had exploded.
Sanosuke looked down at his fist. It was covered to the wrist in blood. He could do nothing but stare at the wretched blood that stuck to his skin. He felt a deeper sense of fear run through him when he realized he had seen his hands bloody like this once before. It was followed by a chase. He had been devoured. It was just like the dream; like the warning. But now it was too late to pay heed to that warning.
He heard the sounds of footsteps nearby. He whipped his head around and saw a silhouette coming towards him. A red spark of light grew brighter in the darkness, and then dimmed as a cloud of smoke wafted around the figure in the dark. Saitou stood there, staring at Sanosuke, his amber eyes glowing sharply in the moonlight. There was no readable expression in his face.
Sanosuke retreated in small steps. "I didn't mean to," he thought, and it showed through his eyes. They were almost pleading for some sort of forgiveness, but Saitou still showed nothing in his face. The two men shared those desperate moments of deafening silence in the empty road. Sanosuke heard the noise of his heart beat in his ears and would swear that it was going to kill him. Then he turned and did the only thing he could think of to do.
He ran away.