A/N: Hey, this is the first part of my extended one-shot, I say one-shot, well originally it was, but I couldn't be arsed to beta read 22k words in one document, and I thought some of you may not want to read it if it's all contained in one go, so I've split it up with the idea that it's still a one-shot…sort of…

So, I've been writing this since early March, but there are another 17k words to go in part 1, (so this is part 1.1, as it were.) Basic Stockholm syndrome plot line with Byaruki fluffiness 3

Warnings: Swearing (language) (I use the word 'fuck' a lot), distressing situations, violence, abuse, sex, young (but legal) Rukia, older Byakuya, generally what's in my other fics/one-shots.

Don't own Bleach.

Not going to write much more, I have exams soon ;_; but I'll keep posting for this until I've done part 1.

Also, quick question (don't judge me), do anyone of you download/buy Bleach doujinshi? If you do, which websites do you use? I'm weird about downloading stuff, as I don't want to screw over my mac…thanks!

Dark Paradise

Byakuya-Rukia Extended One-Shot

Part: 1.1

Drip…drip…drip…the girl groaned in her half-conscious state, refusing to give into the danger. They must have slipped her something, a sedative perhaps? On a normal day, the constant drip of the tap would have driven her crazy but she could no longer afford such luxuries, to only have a noise to worry about. Still, the dripping was considerably preferable than the feeling of cold steel pressed against her temple. Since she had had her sight cut from her, she no longer had any idea where she was; she could only tell that they had moved locations several times. Her sense of hearing and touch had also increased in sensitivity exponentially, the rough feel of the clothes they had made her wear left red trails over her skin. She concentrated on the dripping, desperately trying to fight against the comfort that was continuing to constrict her. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept and although she had a constant feeling of nausea and the worst headache she had ever experienced, staying awake reminded her that she could be on her guard.

The girl wiggled her wrists a little, desperately trying to relieve the pressure, and wincing as her restraints rubbed against the sore, bleeding skin.

At first, she had cried and cried, desperately trying to make any form of noise to attract attention. She had begged to begin with, imploring them to release her and leave her unharmed. They had laughed at her before stating that if she cooperated, they wouldn't hurt her. After some time however, her rationality had crept back in as she realised she had not been hurt her beyond the discomfort she was feeling from the restraints and sleep deprivation. Indeed, they had kept to their word, and as she cooperated they had not made any effort to harm her, nor had they issued any humiliating or harmful commands. They had ordered her to change her clothes at some point and they had allowed her some privacy in the back of a car, but she had been heavily guarded as they waited outside of the vehicle. She had been awarded her sight then, but she had rarely been given it since. Whether it was because they were afraid of their faces being seen or whether they didn't want her to realise where she was, she didn't know, but although she was desperate to have her sight restored, part of her never wanted to look upon the faces of those who were doing this to her. Instead she had begun to listen to the voices of her captors to distinguish one from the other. She had become familiar with at least five different voices, and she daren't even guess how many there were in total.

She snapped her head around as the loud door creaked open, flooding light into her room, though she could still only see black. A new wave of sickness hit her as her heartbeat sped up rapidly, fear gripping her once more, what could they want this time?

"She's still awake!" came the surprised voice of the one she had dubbed 'the cocky-sounding man,' "The boss was right, she is a fighter."

"Indeed," came the voice of an individual whom she had never heard before, a new one? "A pretty little thing, too."

The girl shivered, this new man's voice was far worse than any of the others she had heard. His voice was laced with false sweetness; that much she could tell already, and he was doing a fantastic job at creeping her out. Chills shot up her spine as he complimented her and she could have sworn she felt his smothering presence threaten the life from her. She sighed as she finally let her chin rest against her collarbone, sleep licking at the edges of her consciousness once more. She still had no idea why she was in this situation and whether anyone had even taken action about that fact that she was missing, were the police looking for her? She chocked back a sob. She would have given anything to be back within the strong walls of her family home.

"She'll be out cold anytime now," the cocky man continued, "We'll be able to move her to the permanent location."

"Excellent," the spine-chilling man concluded, "The boss will be very pleased indeed."

A new location? Were they planning on moving her again? Just like the man had predicted, she felt herself slipping away as she tried to process this new information, and within a few seconds, she had given into the comfort.

xxxxxxx

The tall young man couldn't help but feel both excited and a little nervous as he sauntered towards his grandfather's office. This wasn't his first time dealing in fieldwork; sure, he had been involved in small cases before, but nothing of quite this magnitude. He chose instead to specialise in the business side of the gang like his grandfather, and unlike the majority of the members of their large underworld band, he was far from stupid. He was incredibly intelligent in fact, achieving top grades as a child and teenager, propelling him much farther than others his age. Why get your hands dirty when a bunch of idiotic lackeys can do it for you? Dissimilar to their trading partners, Ginrei and Byakuya Kuchiki did not see the point in getting caught up in their wares, neither have touched narcotics nor have ever wanted to. From a financial point of view, the drug market was heavily successful for the Kuchiki's, and Byakuya had even visited several warehouses and sellers during his short period of life to confirm that business was running smoothly. He was, however, never interested in taking the substances and he decided he would much rather keep his life and handsome features. He enjoyed working behind the scenes, managing the family accounts and figures as well as setting up trades with their business associates.

He was also, a well-known playboy. In the public eye he was Kurogawa Byakuya, the young, charming and attractive model working for highly successful fashion companies, in and out of relationships like there was no tomorrow. He is only the young age of twenty-two, and several of his previous conquests had been Japanese celebrities, singers, models and actresses, all of which ended up as nothing more than notches on his bedpost. In private however, he was the grandson of one of the most notorious organised crime leaders, the world at his feet, Kuchiki Byakuya.

He knocked on his grandfather's study door before waiting for a reply, and then proceeding to enter. He gave a small bow as he entered, moving over to stand beside the desk as his grandfather rounded up any last paperwork.

"Shall we be off?" Ginrei concluded as he picked up a large file from his desk, checking it through quickly before tucking the chair into his desk. He handed the file to his grandson as he reached up to grab his coat from the hook by the front door. Byakuya took the file, peering at it curiously before lifting the cover and looking at the first page, frowning. "I'll tell you in the car."

The younger man nodded as he followed his elder, putting on his coat as he went, and stopping at the sleek car that was parked on their private drive. Their chauffeur gave a bow before pulling the car door open for Ginrei and then shuffling around the car to open the other door for Byakuya. Sliding into the driver's seat, she started the car so it purred gently before pressing the button for the electric gates and driving off down the quiet street.

"Matsumoto," Ginrei addressed the driver, "Warehouse B."

"Yes sir," Rangiku replied, indicating to turn onto the motorway.

"What case is this, grandfather?" Byakuya asked as he sipped at the champagne that had been prepared by Matsumoto for their journey.

"We've been asked to take charge of a case that is currently being conducted by our business partner, Aizen," Ginrei started, taking the file from his grandson and opening it to reveal the front page that Byakuya had already briefly glanced at, "It's a ransom case."

"Ransom?" Byakuya asked incredulously, his brows coming together, "We never deal in these kinds of cases."

"I know," Ginrei agreed, flipping through the pages with a sigh, "It's not usually our business style, as you know, we hardly ever conduct ransom cases, and when we have, none have been on this large a scale before."

"Then, why are we getting involved?" Byakuya continued to press Ginrei for answers.

"The police are on to Aizen," Ginrei said with a slight shake of his head, "He isn't willing to let nearly a years' planning go down the drain, not that I can blame him, but naturally, being a top Yakuza boss, the police are on to him. He has certainly left no evidence, but with the slightest possibility of being tracked down, he's creating new options."

"And what's in it for us? It seems like a lot of effort for one mission and it could land us in a sticky situation if we are caught up in this," the younger man mused.

"Staying in good relations with our business partners is imperative if we ever find we need assistance with one of our endeavours," Ginrei reminded the young Kuchiki, "Besides, a third of the pay-off can't be bad."

"Hmm," Byakuya replied, slowly warming up the idea that perhaps his grandfather was right. He had never had reason to disbelieve his grandfather before, his lightning fast deductions had always worked out in their favour when someone was screwing them over, after all, "Who is the captive?"

"A young girl by the name of Rukia Yamamoto," Ginrei revealed, turning the page to reveal her profile. Byakuya relieved his grandfather of the file, brining it close to his face to try and make out the grainy picture of a girl. He could hardly make her features out but he could tell she was young. He handed the file back to his grandfather, desperately trying to figure out why the name sounded familiar, "She's just been transported from one of Aizen's warehouses in Tokyo to ours here. It's hundreds of miles from where she was picked up from; it'll take the police several months to even track her journey through Tokyo, never mind about her journey to other warehouses outside the capital."

"How old is she?" Byakuya asked, wracking his brain for the connection.

"Sixteen," Ginrei concluded, "An incredibly valuable sixteen year old at that, worth several hundred million at least."

"Wait…" Byakuya suddenly said, finally making the connection, "Yamamoto, did you say? You mean heiress Yamamoto? Heiress of Yamamoto industries?"

"Indeed," Ginrei confirmed, proud that it didn't take all that long for his grandson to figure it out, "Not only is she worth a sincere amount of money in herself, but she's also the only living relative of the elderly man and in line to inherit all of his vast industries."

"What do they have planned for her?" Byakuya asked with increasingly curiosity. Most cases had no interest to him; however, he had had no inclination that the case that his grandfather had wanted him to take involvement in would be this interesting. He had never come across such a heavily operated and complex case. He knew that if any one of Aizen's men were to screw up in even the slightest, Aizen wouldn't hesitate in having them permanently removed, regardless of their rank within the gang. Aizen was a brilliant boss, both intelligent and ruthless and he never failed to rub Byakuya up the wrong way. Byakuya held a great deal of respect for the man, as did is grandfather, but there was something about the man that he didn't like. Perhaps it was because they didn't share business tactics, and they specialised in different crimes. Nonetheless, Byakuya could never shake off the uneasy feeling he felt around the man.

"They've had hold of her for a little over a month now," Ginrei replied with a sigh, continuing to flick through the file, "When I first heard about this case a few weeks ago, I thought Aizen had originally been in this just for the ransom, and was going to release a statement to the media asking for a certain amount of money for her return. However, I had suggested that Aizen lend some of our men in a friendly offer of assistance, and to gather more information on this case, merely to satisfy my own curiosity, of course. I managed to find out that Aizen has bigger plans for the heiress."

"They're not going to sell her to the sex industry are they?" Byakuya asked with a frown, she was worth far too much to sell her off into such an industry.

"No, nothing of the sort," Ginrei replied, agreeing that such a move would be incredibly unwise, "It turns out that Yamamoto caught wind of the fact that some of his share holders were Yakuza, though he did not know they belonged to Aizen directly. Naturally, he bought out their shares and had them fired from the company. Due to the nature of his corporation, he holds nearly half of the Japanese stock market as well as some smaller, very successful companies in timber, steel and transport." Byakuya nodded, taking in the story intently, "Realising that they'd lost a good foot hold in the corporation, Aizen was furious and began plotting the kidnap of his granddaughter. If Aizen takes the corporation, he will then control a large majority of Japanese stocks, helping his large drug trafficking and women trafficking business. It's not only money and power he's after, but also raw materials and overseas business. Anything for his syndicate to grow in power and settle his vendetta in the process."

"So he's holding the girl for ransom?" Byakuya asked, reaching over to the champagne bottle and refilling his grandfather's glass before replacing his own, "Surely they would have asked for a certain amount and gotten it by now, it's been over a month by now."

"Exactly," Ginrei concluded, "I thought the same until about a week ago. Giving the nature of Aizen, it's not difficult to realise that he's doing it to tease Yamamoto, who, by this point, will have no idea who has taken her or why. Since he had no idea that those particular men he had fired belong to Aizen specifically, all Yakuza bosses in Tokyo are being investigated. If he moves her out and sends on the documents to us, they police can drop their suspicions. Seeing as we mainly operate in Osaka and not Tokyo, we're not a prime suspect. Aizen wants to make this as difficult for the old man as possible and he knows that he's greatly attached to his granddaughter. Keeping her for as long as possible before releasing a statement will certainly torment him, to the point where even I feel a great deal of pity for him. Additionally, he's hoping to extract information out of the girl in the process. There have been special orders issued for his men to never lay a finger on her, but I know he's been trying to get details of the company from her in case the ransom becomes problematic."

"Extracting…information…? Byakuya couldn't help put ask with a grimace. He, like his grandfather before him, had never wanted to specialise in women trafficking or abuse, it just wasn't their thing and it certainly wasn't their style.

"I'm not sure how Aizen is treating her," Ginrei replied, his face equally grim, "But I can't think that he'd be treating her overly well."

"Hn," Byakuya grunted as he shifted in the leather seats a little, "So all we have to do is babysit her for a while."

"Yes," Ginrei concluded, shutting the file and placing it on the seat next to him, "We'll meet Aizen now, discuss the girl and leave her to the hands of our men until the suspicions die down. We needn't get involved with her too much as our men will watch over her."

"Good," Byakuya replied, he was far too busy with his modelling career and the finances of the business to get involved in a case, particularly a case involving a sixteen year old brat.

He casually flicked through the file once more, boredom creeping over him now as Matsumoto continued down the motorway, turning off when they finally reached their junction. They had only been in the car twenty minutes when Matsumoto meandered through several rocky paths towards a large group of warehouses, before parking up in the car park of the largest building. The gravel crunched under the woman's shoes as she opened the car door for Ginrei and then Byakuya in turn, bowing as the two made their way to the large building.

"It's been a while, Ginrei," the smooth voice of Aizen reverberated through the air, bouncing off the metal walls.

"Indeed, Aizen," Ginrei agreed, stopping in front of the sitting man and holding out his hand. The younger man smiled as he returned the sentiment, shaking the elderly hand lightly.

"Byakuya," Aizen greeted him, stepping away from the old man and shaking the model's hand, "The last time I saw you in person, you were considerably younger. I did of course see you on a large billboard in the centre of Shibuya, modelling your latest line of fashion on the drive over here. I heard you have started dating a famous singer, how's that going?"

"Fine, thank you," Byakuya replied curtly, refusing to rise to the older man's taunts. He suddenly remembered why he resented Aizen and he realised that he certainly didn't agree with this case, but he trusted his grandfather and that was enough for him…for now.

"Where is the girl?" Ginrei asked, ending Aizen's teasing, much to Byakuya's relief.

"In your basement," Aizen replied as he casually made his way back to the table, taking the time to sip at his whiskey, "We're giving her a break."

"A break?" Ginrei asked curiously, frowning at the smiling man.

"We asked her a few questions earlier," Aizen revealed, a cruel smile tugging at the edges of his mouth, "So we decided that we would give her a break for now."

"How is she proving?" Ginrei asked, sitting down on the other side of the table as he motioned for a drink from a man nearby, "Thank you, Kira."

Aizen laughed a little, pushing his glasses further up his nose as he turned to face Ginrei, "Difficult…"

"I thought as much," Ginrei replied. He knew what old man Yama was like, a ruthless businessman himself, albeit a legal one. He would have taught his granddaughter to say little to nothing if someone was trying to extract information from her, "What have you managed to get out of her?"

"Very little, I'm afraid," Aizen sighed, "At first she wouldn't even answer simple questions such as 'What is your name?' or 'When is your birthday?' We know all of these answers already, of course, but we need to get her to trust us, if we are to get the gold."

"Absolutely," Ginrei agreed, sipping his own whiskey now, "How have my men proved?"

"Excellent," Aizen smiled, looking over at Byakuya now, "They've been most helpful." Aizen motioned with his fingers for the men standing guard nearby to join them.

"Yes, sir," a red haired man replied.

"Thank you for your help, Abarai," Aizen thanked the man before sending him back to Ginrei.

"Good work, Renji," Ginrei agreed, thanking his number one wingman.

"Thank you for your kind words, sir," Renji replied with a smile.

"I must take my leave soon," Aizen said abruptly before draining his glass and getting up, "My partner Gin and I have some urgent business to deal with back in Tokyo."

"I understand," Ginrei replied, also getting up to stand opposite the man, "What of the girl?"

"Get her to talk," Aizen almost commanded, "She isn't responding to any of our efforts, friendly or otherwise. Get her to trust you, charm her if you must, but make sure you get everything and if you withhold anything from me, I'll find out, you can trust me on that."

"Of course," Ginrei replied truthfully, "We'll hold her here for a few months while everything quietens down in Tokyo. We're not after any of this information so it would be to our detriment to screw you over."

"Good," Aizen said with a smile as he walked over to Byakuya, Gin following right behind him, "And Byakuya, I know your reputation with women…I don't care in the slightest what you to do to her, but make sure she stays in one piece…and alive…this would have all been for nothing if she were to pack up…and guess who would be paying the price…" He smiled at the scowling young man before walking off with Gin, leaving them with a simple "Good day."

"Renji," Byakuya addressed after he had watched Gin chauffer Aizen down the path that they had came earlier. He hadn't missed the fact that Matsumoto had exchanged words with Gin before he drove off, and he knew there was something going on between them, but he had little interest in them, "Status report."

"The girl is safely contained within the basement with a camp bed and a small toilet, we've put her in much better conditions than Aizen did," Renji said with a grimace, "She's had her blindfold taken off for a few hours so she could be questioned but it will be put back on shortly…she's a strong one, I have to say."

"Blindfold?" Byakuya asked incredulously, almost raising his voice at the absurdity.

"Yes, sir," Renji continued, "To protect our identities, in case she blabs to the authorities when she is eventually released. She hasn't seen any of us, the only person she's seen is Aizen."

Byakuya didn't know how to proceed, it was certainly good planning on Aizen's part…but it just seemed as shocking as it did cruel. Byakuya had never heard of a captive being practically blindfolded, and he couldn't imagine how scared she must be.

"For the very least," Ginrei concluded, "It denies our involvement if she never sees any of us directly. The quicker we get her to talk, the sooner we can give her back and be rid of her. This could be very lucrative for us if all goes to plan, but it could be just as destructive if she escapes or reveals us as accomplices. We'll have at least two men guarding her door at all times and several in the warehouse at any given time."

"Excellent, Sir!" Renji agreed enthusiastically, wanting to give the brat back as soon as possible, "We've just gotta get her to talk!"

"We need to treat her well in the hopes that in time she'll trust us and slip up," Ginrei continued, "Equally, if she trusts us, I'm sure we can coax information from her."

"I'll take a whack at her," Renji volunteered in a confident voice, "I'm great with the ladies!"

"You'll scare her," Byakuya pointed out, "Especially with that common accent."

"Byakuya," Ginrei said with a smile, turning to his grandson "I want you to do it."

"What?" he snapped at his grandfather, like fuck was he even going to meet her let alone get to know her and gain her trust.

"I'm putting her in your charge," Ginrei concluded, "I'm no fool when it comes to your womanizing. I'm certain one of Japan's most popular male idols can get a vulnerable, young girl to trust him."

"Are 'ya sure?" Renji asked dejectedly, "I'm sure I'd charm her real quick!"

"No," Ginrei ordered, "If anyone's going to do it, it's my grandson. Besides, he needs the experience of fieldwork. I won't always be around and he needs to learn this first-hand."

Byakuya scowled, his fists clenching in rage at the hand he had been dealt. The more he was nice to her, the more she would open up to him, and ultimately, the quicker he could get rid of her.

xxxxxxx

Rukia practically screamed at the sudden sharp pain in her eyes as the blindfold was ripped from her face. She clenched her eyes shut, breathing heavily as she desperately tried to adjust to the sudden light. It took a full five minutes to get used to the change and even then her eyes were still blurry.

"Good morning, Rukia," a familiar voice sounded from afar. She looked up, blinking multiple times as her sight cleared a little. She gasped as she finally managed to put a face to the voice she had been hearing the entire time she was in confinement. She grimaced as she took in his face, the light casting eerie shadows on the man's features. An almost snake like man stood beside him, a fake smile plastered on his face, and the girl instantly matched him by voice. She shuddered as the man smiled down at her and she was surprisingly grateful for the blindfold, "I'm glad you've adjusted to the light. We were beginning to worry about you." Rukia wanted to laugh at their false kindness but she knew she was in no position to reply. She took the opportunity to look around the room, taking in anything that would help identify where she was or who these men were. The cell provided no information however, there was no writing anywhere and the room was only a dingy basement style space. She looked to the men in the background, trying to see the faces of the men keeping her hostage, a sudden jolt of fear hitting her as they were cast in shadow.

"How are you feeling today?" Aizen asked, pulling her attention to him once more. Rukia tried to keep her head down, the lighting continuing to make her feel dizzy as waves of nausea swept over her. She kept silent, trying to focus on the here and now instead of giving in to her urges to vomit. Aizen smiled at her silence, he knew this was going to be far from easy. "Let's just calm down and have a little chat," he tried, his voice sickly sweet, "Or we could play a small game, do you like games, Rukia?" Silence. "The game we're going to play…look at me Rukia," she let out a groan as she strained her head to look up at him, another wave hitting her from the light, "The game we are going to play is called 'Cooperation.' The rules are simple. I'm going ask you some questions, you'll answer them, and then we won't hurt you. If you refuse to answer, then who's to stop them from hurting you?"

Rukia shuddered as some of the men behind her laughed, sending chills up her spine and renewing her sense of fear. She nodded, hoping that the questions were easy to answer.

"Good, so we understand each other," Aizen continued, pacing back and forth in front of her, "First question. What are the passwords to your grandfather's offshore accounts?"

"What?" Rukia couldn't help but blurt out, her face pulling together in confusion.

"We both know that your grandfather owns a massive empire of companies, stocks and shareholders," Aizen explained slowly to the disorientated girl, "And all of this information is stored at various locations offshore from mainland Japan. I want you to tell me what the passwords are…"

Rukia inhaled deeply, fearful for the limited amount of information she could provide. At least she knew for now what they were interested in and since they obviously needed her, killing her was out of the question, "I…I don't know…

"What do you mean you don't know?" Aizen asked, practically laughing at her refusal to help him.

"I don't have access to anything until I'm twenty-one," she tried to explain, flinching at his harsh laugh, "I don't know anything…"

"Well we'll just have to keep you here for the next five years, then, won't we?" he threatened in a light tone, "Now you tell us what we need or we'll hurt you."

"I don't know anythi-" Rukia began to say, only to be cut off as Aizen brought his hand across her face, hard, causing her to cry out loud at the sudden pain. She was breathing deeply, registering the shock as her face stung, now red from the slap.

"Such a pity," Aizen tutted, "You are a pretty thing. It's a shame to see your face marred like that…Now, unless you want your other cheek to match, I suggest you tell us what you know."

Rukia kept her head down, trying to hold back the tears as a stray fell down her throbbing cheek. She knew very little, only sure or the places where her grandfather kept the information, but like the man in front of her, she knew nothing of the passwords or the information inside the vaults. She shook her head, enforcing that she knew nothing or that she would be unwilling to talk.

Aizen sighed internally. It was proving useless to get anything out of her, but he knew she knew something, she wasn't completely in the dark, "Okay, let's try it this way," he said, trying a new approach, "Here's another question, nice and simple. Tell us your full name…"

Rukia shook her head, realising that they were trying to get her to talk with kind, slow words.

"How old are you?" he asked, becoming increasingly frustrated, perhaps she would talk if he threatened her a little more or threatened to unleash his men on her? She kept quiet again; looking down at the floor as several tears continued to journey down the redness. "If you don't start talking, I can think of several things that will get you to talk. Am I right, boys?" Aizen laughed along with the men behind her, prompting her to curl into herself a little more as her heart pounded hard in her chest and nausea threatened.

"Sir," the snake-like man behind him cut through the tension, "They're here."

"You're fortunate," Aizen smirked at Rukia, who had now looked up through wet eyes, "We'll give you a little break. Give you some time to think about what you want to tell us. Blindfold her…"

Within a flash, hands were covering her mouth and eyes before she was plunged back into darkness. She felt the men leave and heard their footsteps up the stone steps, the metal door slamming behind them.