A/N: Hello! It's been a long while since I've posted anything, but finally I got a stroke of inspiration and determination (not to mention time) to write fanfics! So my other fic may actually be updated soon...maybe.
I decided to write this fic because there are far too few AizenxIchigo out there. I hope you'll enjoy! :)
Warning: Yaoi, coarse language (this chapter's set in prison, after all...), and hint of adult themes later on.
Characters in this chapter: Ichigo, Grimmjow, Urahara, Ulquiorra, Nnoitra, Aizen
Pairings in this chapter: GrimmjowxUlquiorra
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, or I would've revamped ButterflAizen's look AND personality
Prisoners of Liberty
Chapter 1: The Turnabout
At the far edges of Karakura town, therein laid the town's most infamous all-men prison, where all the worst law-breakers, most cold-hearted murderers, and remorseless prisoners dwelled. Though the citizens of Karakura Town did not approve of capital punishment, many people, the prisoners included, would very much prefer the death of the law-breakers than be trapped inside of this cold, shady facility. Most of the prisoners were sentenced for a life time, very few of which will ever taste the freedom that they have lost. Even if one was to die inside the prison, no one would know nor care. As such, rumour has it that those who go in never come back out in one piece.
Such was the fate which a certain orange haired teenage boy was about to face.
The hard stainless steel door opened, briefly allowing a beam of sunlight in as a new prisoner entered. Heads were turned to see the new arrival, but the sunlight was too bright, casting the newcomer in shadows. The door slammed shut, and before anyone could adjust their sight, the boy, along with the guard, had already turned to the corridor where his cell was.
"Go." The guard pushed the teenager roughly into his prison cell as the teen tumbled in, coughing. The bright-haired teen cursed under his breath. "What was that?" The guard provoked. The teen just turned to glare at him. The guard then sneered, "You better learn your manners here, Kurosaki Ichigo, or you'll soon see why."
The guard left the teenager alone in his cell as he closed the rusty door. Ichigo looked at his living quarters for the next few months. It was a rather small cell that had a folded bed and a very disgusting-looking toilet. There were no windows, only artificial light from the corridor that sneaked in through the eye hole of the door. The blackened walls displayed the galore of thoughts and boredom of the cell's previous occupant.
The teen decided to sit at the corner farthest from the door. While he crouched down and hugged his knees, he wondered briefly why he was sentenced in this prison, when his offence was minimal compared to his current cell mates. Probably because the judge didn't like my attitude, or it's just my orange hair that pissed her off, so she decided to teach me a lesson the hard way, the teen thought, frowning deeper as he thought of the raven-haired judge.
Though the teen was tired, he could not sleep, for it was his first night ever since the age of four to be completely trapped with no way out.
The next morning (or so Ichigo thought – he had no way of telling time in his cell), the guard opened the door to drop off breakfast. Ichigo slowly crawled over to see that there were actually edible-looking scrambled eggs and sausages. He wolfed it down before any of those drooling rats near the wall could have a bite.
The guard then took him out to the field outside to do some physical labour since they said he was young and healthy and all. Ichigo had to work along with others to wash off the walls of the prison, under the strict supervision of guards. The prisoners were not allowed to talk during work. Ichigo was wiping down the wall absent-mindedly when his wiper accidentally hit the person next to him. "Watch it, brat," muttered the short teal haired man. Ichigo glared at him. The man mocked, "What, you wanna have a go?"
Two smacks were heard throughout the field as the guard hit them, "Get back to work, you two!"
Ichigo turned back to face the wall, but not before looking at the name tag in front of the teal-haired man: Grimmjow Jacquerjack.
"Nice to meet you too, Strawberry," whispered Grimmjow, gritting his teeth.
The guard was staring at them, so Ichigo did not say anything, although a hint of blush rose into his cheeks from embarrassment and anger.
Eventually, Ichigo's internal clock adjusted to the prison's schedule and patterns. The life in prison was basically divided into several segments: Meals, work every other day, and showers. One could tell that it is breakfast because they always had eggs. Work was often hard and unrewarding, but at least it was something to keep Ichigo's mind preoccupied. The other times he just sat in his cell and stare at the graffiti-filled wall, listening to the occasional howlings of his fellow inmate. He did not make any friends either – the people either looked uninterested or just downright scary (even scarier than those he had met on the streets).
But there was one thing he was looking forward to: Ichigo was told that there was a "free" time each week in which the prisoners could do limited activities such as watching TV, sitting outside within the walled areas, reading books and magazines or playing pool. As Ichigo was already bored out of his mind, the "free time" gave him something to do.
Before that, though, he had to face a certain correctional service agent to "monitor his behaviour" and "rehabilitate into a better person".
Ichigo thought it was a waste of time, but he had no choice as the guard shoved him into a caged room with only two chairs, one long wooden table, a small dusty window, and a simple light hanging from the ceiling. Ichigo thought it rather resembled an interrogation room. He sat there and waited for a few minutes. Unexpectedly, a playful voice rattled, startling him.
"Good afternoon, Kurosaki Ichigo, 15, the youngest ever admitted into this prison," Ichigo turned around to see a rather young correctional service agent walking in, closing the metal gate as he said so. The agent had light short unkempt blonde hair, his eyes somewhat hidden under his weird green and white striped hat. He wore a loose tux with his shirt open at the neck. Great, Ichigo thought, another shady guy.
"Oh, but where are my manners? My name is Urahara Kisuke. I'm just here to know a little bit more about you."
Ichigo remained silent. Urahara threw a folder on the table, grabbed a chair and sat across the table from Ichigo. He crossed his hands on the table and muttered, "Where to begin?
"According to the files, you are the son of Kurosaki Masaki and Isshin, correct?" Urahara took the twitch on Ichigo's face as confirmation. "They were murdered by burglars when you were just four, so you've been living with foster families until two years ago, when you chose to live on your own."
Ichigo continued to stare at the wall behind Urahara, waiting for this session to be over.
"Your school grade wasn't bad at all, but you've had several suspected cases of bullying during junior high. You even dropped out of school the two years ago, the same year you decided to live on your own," Urahara sighed, "But that didn't go too well, did it? No one in their right minds would hire someone at the age of 13, so unfortunately you had to turn to employers not in their right minds."
Ichigo snorted.
"Little gang activities here and there and you were the one caught out of all your friends. The judge sentenced you six months in this hellish prison and hope you'd come back out a different man."
"So you're going to ask me about what kind of crap I did in the past two years?" Ichigo said dismissively.
"The gang activities are not my concern today," Urahara pressed on, "My question really boils down to this: Why did leave your foster family?"
Ichigo could hear faint screaming in the distant. Something flashed by his eyes. He blinked and muttered, "No reason, really. I just didn't feel like relying on them."
"Don't feel like relying on them or don't feel like living with them?" Urahara asked shrewdly.
Ichigo stared directly into Urahara's eyes, "What do you mean?"
"I mean, you feel like you were leeching off them, so you wanted to go away? Or do you feel that they were…not dependable?" Urahara observed Ichigo.
"Whatever you say goes," said Ichigo uncaringly while looking at the window.
"Mr. Kurosaki, I know it's up to you whether you tell me or not, but if just bottle it up, nothing's going to change."
Ichigo rolled his eyes and turned to face Urahara, "Like I care. Look, a shit-load of teenager has independence issues, and I'm just one of them," Ichigo lied effortlessly, "There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"
Urahara sighed, "Very well, then. We'll talk about this another time." Urahara stood up and was about to leave when he stopped, turned around and reached into his pocket. Ichigo was preparing for whatever's coming next when Urahara held out a card, "Here, this is my number. If you ever feel like you need to talk to someone, call me." Urahara left the card on the table and left. Ichigo just sat there and stared at the card.
"Come on, let's go," the guard grumbled. Ichigo took the card off the table and threw it in the garbage can at the exit.
He came onto the field slightly late, as most of the prisoners were already doing their activities. Ichigo was looking around for something to do when he caught a flash of teal hair walking by. Naturally, Ichigo followed, as Grimmjow strolled directly to the corner of the field closer to the main prison. Ichigo looked and saw another prisoner already standing there. That pale man had black, slightly unkempt hair. Ichigo thought that he had a weird tattoo – vertical black lines under both his eyes, giving a false impression that he was crying. But what chilled Ichigo the most were his cold, green eyes, as if they had seen everything. The eyes glittered very slightly as they spotted Grimmjow approaching.
"Yo, Ulquiorra," greeted Grimmjow.
"You're late," said Ulquiorra, his voice indifferent.
"Can't help it. The inspector got a bone to pick with me," Grimmjow suddenly went forward and kissed Ulquiorra on the spot. Ulquiorra closed his eyes. Ichigo's mind went whirling out of control as he witnessed their kiss. By the time Ichigo pulled his mind together, they already broke off. "Your lack of tact never ceases to surprise me," said Ulq emotionlessly.
Grimmjow suddenly looked over and saw Ichigo looking at them, "What? Never seen this before, virgin?" sneered Grimmjow.
"Yeah right, father-fucker, I was just shocked that you guys did it in broad daylight."
"That's why I called you a virgin, virgin."
"I'm not –"
"There's no point arguing with this trash, Grimm," commented Ulquiorra, "Just ignore him."
"You-!"
"Who's the new trash?" interrupted a thin, rough voice. Ichigo turned to see another weird dude with shoulder-length black hair and pointy eyes approaching with several other prisoners. "Shit," cursed Grimmjow, "Nnoitra."
Nnoitra and his gang stopped to look at Ichigo. Nnoitra grinned widely as he said, "You're the brat with the orange hair, huh? Well, don't ya get my prey. I'm the one who's gonna beat lil' Grimmjow here up."
Ulquiorra was in front of Grimmjow in a flash, "Don't think too highly of yourself, Nnoitra, or did you already forget about the last fight we've had?"
Nnoitra frowned, "That was last time. I came back to settle the score."
Ichigo inched away as they argued, but before he could escape to a safe distance he was pushed back into the circle by Nnoitra's gang. Nnoitra peered sideways at Ichigo, "I'm not done with ya yet, buddy. Let's see how well you fight. After I'm done with these two."
The gang cheered on. Ichigo sweated, unsure what to do.
"What's with all the noise?" came a deep, calm voice.
The shouting died away. Everyone turned to look at the man who was sitting on the top of table right next to Ichigo. Ichigo followed their stares. The man had brown hair and eyes, with a strand of loose hair hanging in front of his handsome face, for even with the poor conditions of the prison, the person managed to look half-way decent. Ichigo remarked how that man wore the orange uniform stylishly. Something flickered at the back of Ichigo's mind as he looked at the man, but before he could grasp what it was the man looked directly at him and asked, "Oh, so you're the new orange-haired brat? Nice to meet you, Kurosaki Ichigo."
"Who the hell are you?" Ichigo spat. Nnoitra suddenly appeared in front of him and punched him in the face. Ichigo coughed and spat out blood. He was about to retaliate but two muscular men held him down.
The brunette smirked, leaned closer and said, "My name is Aizen Sousuke. You may refer to me as Aizen-sama."
Ichigo gritted his teeth. The punch from before was too painful for him to say anything as his cheeks began to swell.
"Good, I see you're finally learning some manners," Aizen seemed satisfied as he leaned backward again. Ichigo glared at him but said nothing.
"You see, it's only natural that we fellow prisoners should know each other better, wouldn't you agree?," Aizen chuckled, "You are, by far, the youngest that has ever entered these depths of hell, so naturally we'd all be somewhat…interested…in you."
Ichigo felt a chill running down his back. He never felt so many unwanted attentions as he did now. He looked around but he could see no guards as he was surrounded by a wall of men.
"Though whatever you've done, you're still underage. I doubt they'll actually put you in here for the rest of your life.
"I'll make you a deal."
Ichigo frowned; knowing whatever comes next would not be to his favour.
"With your cocky and disrespectful attitude, the judge most likely hates you, and you probably won't get out of here too soon," Aizen watched as the truth of his words sank into the teen, "But, with my influence, I can get you out as soon as tomorrow comes."
Ichigo's eyes widened, "How can you get me out of here? You're just a prisoner in this god-forsaken hell hole!" Ichigo said disbelievingly.
A chorus of laughter rang throughout the walled section. Nnoitra and Grimmjow buckled over in laughter. Aizen smirked, "Oh, Kurosaki Ichigo, you'll find me far more powerful than you can imagine."
Ichigo remained unconvinced, "If you had that much power, why didn't you break yourself and the rest you guys out of here?"
Aizen's eyes glimmered maliciously. An evil smile hung on his mouth as he told Ichigo, "Sometimes being in prison has far more freedom than you can imagine."
Ichigo did not trust this man. Not one bit. But… to get out of this despicable place, he would give it a shot. He swallowed as he uttered with difficulty, "What deal?" Ichigo's face was ashen.
Aizen's eyes seemed to flash of something momentarily, but before Ichigo could discern any meaning behind it, Aizen leaned forward and whispered in Ichigo's ear, "Become my servant out there."
"What?"
"You don't understand, Ichigo? Well, I suppose you're still young," Aizen sighed as he lifted Ichigo's chin up to look at him better, "You will help me do my dirty work out there." Aizen watched with satisfaction as the boy's eyes flared with defiance, "I'll contact you from time to time to give you some tasks. Not too difficult, even for you."
"I'm not going to be your dog!" Ichigo roared.
"You look like one to me," Grimmjow interjected, "Bitch."
"Grimmjow," Aizen warned softly. Grimmjow shut up immediately, but still sneered at Ichigo victoriously as Ichigo grew visibly angrier. Ichigo would have rushed at Grimmjow for that nick were it not for Aizen's grip (as well as those two muscular men holding him down) that kept Ichigo where he was. Somehow, even without using too much physical strength, that man restrained him.
"So? What's it going to be? A prisoner here or my slave out there?"
Aizen chuckled. Ichigo scowled. He longed for running in the open, not breathing in the musty air of prison. At least out there, he knew where to go to avoid unnecessary fights. He could check up with Renji, his friend.
"What exactly am I doing out there?" Ichigo inquired.
"A little bit of this and that," Aizen grinned, "You won't get caught."
Ichigo knew his answer already. His pride, however, prevented him from saying it. He stared at the ground as he gritted out the word, "Fine."
"I couldn't quite catch that."
Ichigo glared directly into Aizen's brown sinister eyes and said louder, "Fine. Whatever gets me out of here."
Aizen smirked in approval, released his grip on Ichigo and said, "Don't worry too much about it. Almost everything is already set up for you."
The bell rang. The prisoners scrambled as the guards, just non-existent moments before, swarmed the area to escort the prisoners back to their cells. Ichigo looked back, but Aizen already vanished in the crowd of people. He shook his head as he followed the line, marching back into the prison.
Ichigo sat in his cell, his cheeks still throbbing. He thought about whether Aizen actually had that kind of power, or whether that was just a cruel joke played on the newcomer as an 'initiation'. Ichigo could not care less. It was a win-win situation for him; if Aizen was truly what he claimed, then hopefully he will keep his promise and he will get out of this place. If he was not…at least he gained some acceptance in this prison.
He fell asleep from exhaustion. Maybe it was because of today's events, he dreamt of Aizen, playing with a puppet. He was somehow able to pluck the strings of the puppet off and put it on another wooden cross. The puppet was so animated and lively that Ichigo could hardly believe it was not a living person. Ichigo was about to get a closer look at the puppet when he was awakened by the harsh banging at the door.
"Get out, brat," The guard grumbled.
Ichigo followed. He could not tell the time in the prison, but it was probably in the middle of the night as most of the prisoners he passed by were asleep or...doing their activities in their cells. Ichigo looked away from them and asked to the guard tentatively, "Where am I…?"
"Don't ask questions."
The guard led him through a door hidden behind a painting. They went down several flights of stairs, walked through a maze-like tunnel with minimal lighting before reaching a black, metal door. The guard opened the door. Ichigo was right; the moonlight shone in, temporarily brightening the area. Ichigo looked at the guard as he whispered, "Go quickly. Try not to let anyone see you. If you get caught, say it's your own fault."
Ichigo took a tentative step outside. The guard pushed him out and closed the squeaking door. Ichigo just stood there for several minutes. A gust of wind blew, and Ichigo took off.
Ichigo could not believe it. He could breathe in freedom again. As he ran into the night, he ignored the deep velvet voice that whispered in the night, quietly reminding him that his freedom was a chained one.
A/N: Ta-da! And that was the first chapter. I hope you liked it. Thanks a ton for reading! Drop by a review if you'd like :)