Title: Different Lives
Author: tir-synni

A/N: A little note mentioned in the beautiful RK yaoi story He Who Chases Demons, written by Kentaro, was the inspiration for this fic. Very simply, the note stated that there was an excellent chance Kenshin would have ended up with Sanosuke if he had met him first. This fic explores that from a blatantly biased perspective.

Beta: *offers almond-coated pocky to Arete*

Addy: relisprince(at)hotmail(dot)com

Chapter II: Home Sweet Home

              Several times, Sanosuke found himself laying a gentle hand on Kenshin’s back, reassuring himself that the tiny redhead was still there. Hoards of people crowded the narrow streets, and with Kenshin’s size, Sanosuke expected the smaller man to be trampled. Besides, it allowed him to guide Kenshin successfully towards himself . . . to compare their sizes, of course. His hand easily covered the small of Kenshin’s back, plus a good chunk of the upper half. As an added bonus, the closeness allowed Sanosuke to study the redhead better.

              The scar drew Sanosuke’s eye again. Standing so close, Sano could not help but see it. At first Sano had been distracted by Kenshin’s diminutive height. Secondly, Kenshin’s beautiful eyes had enchanted. While he had notice the scar, it had not truly caught his attention. Now Sanosuke had trouble looking away.

              Two dark lines slashed Kenshin’s cheek, forming a large X. Sanosuke could not guess the age, but he presumed something like a knife made them. The scars themselves were smooth, although Sano doubted they had healed smoothly. It was like Kenshin had received the marks and then had not tended them. Did he receive them at the same time? Why had he not healed them? How serious had they been originally? The scars only added to the overall mystery of the slight wanderer.

              “This one is sorry if I had done something,” Kenshin spoke up softly, distracting Sanosuke from his perusal. The redhead tilted his head towards Sanosuke, and again the fighter was enraptured by those amazing eyes. “Please forgive me.”

              Sanosuke blinked. “You haven’t done anything.”

              Kenshin lowered his head, his long hair hiding his face. Sano could not see his eyes. “The way you were looking at me,” he replied demurely, “This one simply assumed. . . . “

              Like his eyes, his voice remained curiously blank, though cheerful. Sanosuke could discern nothing from his tone.

              “Ah, you know you like it,” Sanosuke teased, lightly pushing Kenshin. The wanderer stumbled, but Sano refrained from catching him. He hadn’t shoved him that hard. He was fine. “I bet a lot of people would love for me to stare at them like that!”

              He heard a subtle cough from somewhere. Suspiciously, Sanosuke looked around, but he couldn’t see anyone looking at them. Several men were staring intently at the redhead at Sano’s side, but a hard glare from Sano made them turn away. Scowling, Sanosuke glanced back at Kenshin. The redhead had yet to raise his head.

              “This one is sure a lot of people would,” Kenshin allowed. Again, Sanosuke’s hand rested on the small of his back, directing him down an alley. Busy making sure no one else was eying the redhead, it took a few moments for Kenshin’s words to click. Sanosuke narrowed his eyes at Kenshin.

              “What’s that supposed to mean?” he growled.

              Kenshin raised his head, wide-eyed. “Nothing!” he said quickly. “Nothing at all!”

              Why did Sano have the feeling that Kenshin was laughing at him from behind those blank eyes? “You’re laughing at me!” he burst out.

              Scratching the back of his head, Kenshin stared innocently at Sanosuke. “Oro?” he offered weakly.

              “You’re laughing!” Sanosuke roared. Diving, he pulled Kenshin into a headlock and fiercely rubbed his red head. “I saw that! I saw that!”

              “Orororororo. . . .” Kenshin mewled.

xoxoxox

              Successfully freed from Sanosuke’s daring attack, Kenshin decided that he preferred the noogie to what Sano called home. Sweatdropping, he carefully followed Sanosuke into the hut. So Sano had saved him from those thugs for this? Goons were easy compared to this!

              “Beautiful, ain’t it?” Sanosuke exclaimed, extravagantly waving his hand. “Home sweet home!”

              Kenshin swallowed. “Homey,” he agreed faintly. Beyond the endless mounds of clothes, old food, trash and other articles Kenshin did not even want to speculate on, he was sure it was a lovely home.

              Grinning proudly, Sanosuke led the wary swordsman through the rest of his home. Relying on his training, Kenshin secured the safety of his feet and kept an eye out for potentially dangerous zones. For several years in his youth, he had lived in the home of a sworn bachelor, his “dear” drunken master. While he wandered, he sometimes passed in the homes of generous people and rested. Out of all of those homes, the swordsman was positive that Sanosuke’s was the messiest he had ever seen. Kenshin sucked in a deep breath. It might take all of his skills to survive this.

              “You can stay here for a while,” Sanosuke continued cheerfully, carelessly leading Kenshin to the back of the hut. Kenshin had to literally hop over one mound of clothes to follow him. “I do some . . . odd jobs . . . around town. You’ll be safe here. Just don’t leave this hut without me, all right? This is a dangerous town, and you could get hurt. In the morning, I’ll walk you out of this town.”

              Kenshin raised an internal eyebrow. Heh. He had never imagined choosing to walk down that alley would lead to the most interesting adventure he had had in years. Judging by the “evil” symbol on Sanosuke’s back—since entering the hut, he had gotten a very good look at it—this was the same man who had defeated the fake Battousai. And saving him from those thugs, then taking him into his home to protect him . . . definitely a first. Topping it off, judging by Sanosuke’s words, the swordsman was beginning to get a good idea concerning Sanosuke’s “odd jobs.” To his surprise, Kenshin found himself grateful to those goons.

              In the mean time, Kenshin mused, looking around, it might give this one time to—

              “You stay here, ‘kay?” Sanosuke went on, distracting Kenshin from his thoughts. “I have to run back into town. I was kinda checking on someone when I met you.” Sanosuke pounded Kenshin on the back, and the redhead willingly went with the motion. He heard Sanosuke laugh at him, but he didn’t care. “You want me to buy you a knife or knives while I’m in town? No one will believe that you can use that sword of yours.”

              Kenshin stiffened, and he felt something inside him rear up at Sanosuke’s careless words. However, when he faced Sanosuke, a cheerful smile decorated his face. “Oh, my sword is fine, if you will. It will be fine.”

              Sanosuke frowned. “No one’s going to believe you can use that sword,” he warned. “You need something to defend yourself with.”

              Kenshin’s smile felt faker than usual on his face. The urge to clean his hands burned within him. A real blade . . . he had done enough with a real blade. Almost against his will, he began rubbing his hands against his clothes. “It works,” he murmured, his cheeks hurting. “It’s a reverse-blade sword. It still is fine.”

              Frowning, Sanosuke studied the sheath at Kenshin’s side and then stared at the swordsman’s hands. With a concentrated effort, Kenshin forced his hands still.

              “Riiiight,” Sano mumbled. Then he cleared his throat. “Okay, I guess it’s worked for you so far. I shouldn’t be gone too long. Why don’t you take a nap? It’s probably been a long day for you.”

              Kenshin glanced outside the still open door. Shadows slowly darkened the wild bushes surrounding Sanosuke’s home. Then he glanced inside Sano’s home and cringed. He doubted he’d be able to sleep anytime soon.

              “I shall simply wait for you,” Kenshin demurred. And clean, he added mentally. After years of cleaning for the slave traders, then later for his master, cleaning had become securely engrained into his mindset. Many of the people he had stayed with had loved him simply because he had left them with a much cleaner home.

              Or perhaps . . . he cleaned . . . because he himself would never be clean.

              His hands began rubbing at his sides again, and he forcibly calmed himself. That was not helping matters at all.

              Sanosuke’s eyes narrowed, but he simply said, “Try to rest. I’ll see you later.”

              After ruffling Kenshin’s hair again like he was a child and lighting a small lamp for the redhead, Sanosuke left the small, dirty hut. Kenshin watched him leave silently. His eyes narrowed.

              That “evil” sign . . . he had heard of something like that before. There was a lot more to Sagara Sanosuke than he knew. He wasn’t sure how long he would rest in Tokyo, but he was determined to learn more about the interesting young man.

              Something about Sanosuke disturbed Kenshin. He couldn’t determine what.

              Vaguely, Kenshin shook his head. It didn’t matter. Soon he would be back on the road, and Sagara Sanosuke would be a distant memory. Until then . . . Kenshin frowned at the messy hut. It was time to earn his keep.