Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, or any of the Bleach characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.
Another Bleeding Heart
Prompt: Three...
A/N: For "Kill_Your_OTP" on LJ.
Had she not sucked someone else into the vortex of this insanity, he wouldn't have had any reason to be pissed off at her. If the prince of pity was involved, the bleeding heart would undoubtedly leave his own mark upon the situation, which would only cause a much faster decline. Bringing him into it was stupidity at the highest of levels, and the whiny bastard would only serve to further Retsu's deep-seated ideas of abandonment, while adding to Mayuri's own hatred of the man.
He was maddening, filling her head with so much rubbish. Had the captain a more objective view, Mayuri wouldn't have cared nearly as much. But he was biased, even insistent upon the fact that Retsu had, by some massive stretch of the imagination, been violated and tortured. Mayuri wouldn't deny that the latter accusation calmed his nerves, but the first was nothing more than a direct shot designed to irritate him.
And it had worked.
Blood had reached the boiling point hours earlier, leaving a single objective on a loop in his head: Break him. But Jushiro Ukitake was as formidable as they came, having been in the captain's seat for well over two centuries. Tearing him down would be an issue, but mentally disturbing him would be another thing entirely. And, being the sadistic bastard he was, it certainly wasn't beyond Mayuri to twist the facts until the other man backed the hell away.
But, by the time he'd concocted such a ploy, having been far too distracted to think clearly, she'd been won over. It was disdain that tainted her gaze now. That same damned expression gracing her features. The one that she'd been far too open to succumb to. Now, she looked at him the way the rest of them had. Contempt in every shuddering breath. Even worse was the faint glimmer of pleasure in the sickly man's eyes. It was challenging, that victorious and passive glance.
Mayuri had never been one to give up that which he'd claimed, but she was just like the rest of them now.
Just another bleeding heart.