Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. Be glad I don't.
Warning: The following contains non-graphic NCS (in other words, rape) and yaoi (male/male relations). If this is not your cup of tea, then I highly suggest you proceed no further. If you are willing to subjugate yourself to my insane and evil imagination, then by all means...
A single tear fell down his face as he felt his arms forced harshly above his head. How many times this had happened, he had already lost count, but he was past the point of caring.
Or at least, that is what he tried to tell himself.
The single tear that continued its decent down his pale cheek said otherwise.
Closing his eyes shut and turning his face away, he hoped the tear went unnoticed even though he knew that the chances of that happening were quite slim. And as if his mind had been read, a soft chuckle echoed through the room as a soft but bone-chilling voice whispered in his ear.
"Oh, was tha'da tear? Poor thing..."
He could not help the unconscious shudder that ran through him as the falsely comforting words rang through his mind like a deafening gong. Deep down, something was telling him to fight back, enraged at the mock-concern laced in that voice that promised only pain and suffering.
But in the end, whatever it was that wished him to fight back went unheard. He had accepted long ago that there was no stopping what was inevitable. And that was exactly what this was: inevitable. His own arrogance and cocky attitude had invited this. Not to mention his naivety.
He immediately gasped as he felt a sharp pain in his neck, arching his back and struggling weakly as if trying to pull away from whatever it was his captor intended to do to him. He knew it was useless. He had tried this before, with much more energy behind his attempts, and had failed then. Now would be no different.
Still, that did not stop his body from reacting as it did.
Yet instead of his struggles upsetting his captor, they seemed only to amuse him. And he knew, he knew, that his amusement would not stop there. This night would be no different from all the ones before.
He would cry and no one would be there to comfort him.
He would bleed and no one would be there to heal him.
He would scream and no one would hear him.
He would fall...
...again...
...and no one would catch him.
And after it was all over, he would be left alone to pick up the pieces.
Which is exactly what happened.
Ignoring his body's protests, he slowly sat up and glared at his tormentor, his voice too shattered from all the use it had gotten that night for him to be able to say anything, whether it be to curse the monster before him, to scream at him to get out and never come back or to just sob brokenly. All he could do was glare at the man who had made his life hell for what felt like centuries...
Walking away without a word, he made his move to leave, but as if sensing eyes upon him, he came to a complete stop and turned around to face the form of the broken young man glaring up at him. The smirk that played across the man's features widened, looking even more sinister in the light of the waning moon than it ever could in the daylight. Upon seeing how the glare faltered at seeing his smirk, he couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips. Turning away as he made his way out the door, he made a half-hearted wave good-bye with his hand.
"Ya may wanna clean up."
Aqua eyes narrowed, pain and hatred reflected in their depths as they watched the man before them turn, the smirk still present.
"Don' wan'cher lieutenant ta see ya like this... she may think somethin's wrong."
The door slammed shut, leaving Hitsugaya to pick up whatever pieces were left of his shattered soul.