A/N: Thinking about making the next chapter purely a torture scene of some sort. But I think I would be cringing the whole time…well, anyway, tell me what you think of this chapter so I can hear what you think in terms of characterization and whatnot.

On a particular note, tell me about Kurotsuchi. I'm not too sure if I'm making him more sadistic or more….distubing (I mean, he is. But…). Or is it accurate? But then, I have not been really going into how he derives pleasure from torture. Oh wait, is he not sadistic enough!?

Also take the time to tell me on how you handle distubing themes, because I think I COULD go darker ….but I'm not too sure if I want to. This chapter had a whole lot of deleted paragraphs….idk, this could be rendered as totally 'pansy' material for all I know.

-x-story

Mad Mercy (instalment):

How Things Are

"What do you mean 'you won't give me thorium'?! I need it for my generator processes!" the loud, slightly high-pitched yell of a brown-haired girl rung throughout the room.

Most of the room's inhabitants recoiled from her once again sparked rage, her flame-heated frustrations more than convincing the lesser members of the SRDI that no one should intervene. They were members of the 12th division, the soldiers of one of the Gotei 13. Of course, they weren't exactly 'experienced' members of the squad; there was no reason for an experienced combatants to be lowered to storage movement. No, they were the fresh faces straight from the academy, or the soldiers who could never prove that they were worth anything more than a common labor worker.

The rest in the room, despite not belonging to the official inhabitants of Seireitei, neither military nor noble, were of higher rank, and debatably, the only legitimate rank of this area-scientists and researchers. From normal human-looking assistants to mechanic cyborgs and organic monstrosities, the 'true' members of the 12th never took kindly to an annoying foot soldier. Neither did the captain of the 12th. They, the soldiers of the Gotei 13, within these walls, were in the same rank as the tools the scientists used; it was up to the scientist to decide how best to care and use them. Similarly, should they choose to not care for them, it would be no different than throwing away a common utensil.

That's how the Shinigami Institute of Research and Development was run (and, by the captain's extension, the entire 12th company as well).

A small young lad, still clad in the distinctive shinigami garb, frowned a bit as the girl once again yelled at one of her "colleagues". Despite the shoulder length brown hair that obscured her face, he could hear the growl in her voice as the argument got more and more heated over the last of a rare earth element. She didn't exactly look menacing, but neither were a lot of the members of the SRDI. Indeed, a great majority of them looked distinctly human, and it was only either their 'quirks', only shown when in the presence of anything related to an experiment or scientific process, betrayed their nature. Or when their countenance, showing of an odd nature, revealed their true nature. All he has seen he could easily mark as socially blend-able, and only close inspection would betray their origin.

But this girl was of a less common sort; all of the human-esque scientist he has seen were clearly, by all rational thought, 'healthy' and 'scientifically ideal'—they had ample body fat, proper attention span, colorful skin, receptive irises in their eyes and were generally well kept in everything from their hair to their clothes (clean and neat was generally and scientists' trait, anyway). Plus, the vast majority of them ranged from robust to brawny. 'Proper' bodies never bordered too thin, nor were they obese, and petite bodies were not preferred at all. The rest of the scientists were just….barely human….if even that.

This girl was more than just simply petite, but she wasn't unhealthily bone-strewn either. Her skin was only slightly colored, and bordered onto being pale in complexion. Her hair was in absolute disarray. Many stray strands picked every which way, sometimes ending in knots, and other parts of her hair were entwined with others and created a tangled mess. Had it not been so short, it would have been worse. With the raggedly cut wiry mass barely reaching her shoulders, he was sure that she was indeed, a scientist. Such a hair do allowed the absence of certain annoyances that long hair provides; such as accidentally seeping into beakers or falling into her line of sight while experimenting.

Her eyes were pleasantly round, and not so keen and stern. Her lips were slightly parched, yet still full and filled with color. Combine all of that with her short stature, he would almost think of her a darling little flower of a child. But her reiatsu, along with her general body language, proved to him that she just as indignantly obsessed with her research as the rest of the madmen that encompassed the SRDI (even if she was regarded as one of the more 'kind' of the bunch).

But what disturbed him was that her voice sounded-despite its sweet over-lining-edged and slightly raspy, combined with the intonation in her voice; it made for a mind-grinding vocalization. Just hearing her made him wince inwardly, finding its effect perdurable, like there was something in head, formerly harmless, was trying to knaw its way out of his head. Her voice called his attention in an eliciting manner, gripping something within him that he would lend to nearly any other shinigami. Yet, the way that same voice held such overlaying animosity and feral grievance, it made his mind progresses more jagged, like he was somehow perceiving this world wrong, even though he was distinctly sure he was. Like being grinded forth by pre-laid rails, he instinctively attempted to avoid her, to ignore her, to not impede her progress, even though he was so acutely aware of her current desire.

He couldn't understand it. She looked like an abused lost child, and yet she was ferocious in the way that she demanded for whatever knowledge or material she sought. However, this feeling was lost among her colleagues, and only seemed to apply to those not of the researcher class here.

Apparently the man whom she was arguing with was more than willing to tell this demander off, not impressed at her sharp toung "I called dibs on this first! I have it and I have the paperwork for laying claim on anything in this warehouse!" yelled the male researcher. He was tall and lean, and adamant on keeping possession of the vile in his hand.

"I was told by the captain that I had free reign over whatever I can or could use for my research! I demand that I be given that thorium!" she screeched.

At that, her opponent had his eyes slanted a bit as her leered down at her, "What a blasphemous claim! The taicho would never say such a thing to someone as meager as you! Especially in concerns to materials!"

"He did so!"

At that, the boy nearly choked out a laugh at the childish statement; but he knew doing so just might be dangerous for him; the people here never took that kind of embarrassment lightly, and virtually every healthy body (like his) had a use…or at least, that was the common belief. When you enter squad 12 you quickly realize that you'd better do as your told, and other than that, keep your mouth shut. Especially on "Throw out day". This institute prefers only the best and freshest of materials, and as such, the warehouses are cleared out every time the materials inside are 'too outdated', but not before the lower-ranked researchers take out last-minuet materials. This usually results in only the trash being left (of which only a few boxes are normally of this quality), of the good that were truly unusable. But the flock of these researchers never failed to make people like him nervous; sure, most of them came in here for very specific things and rarely even talk to one another, but it was arguments like this that made him nervous. Whoever lost was going to be highly irritated, and everyone knows that these people don't attack their colleagues; ergo why the lowers (like him) are a prime, easy, never-going-to-snitch-due-to-imminent-revenge target. Did he mention that he was a prime target?

But thankfully, the argument was not-long lasting "I won't hear any more of this! I'm going back, and I'm not handing this over to you!" he started to walk away, and continued doing so, as he knew that the girl wouldn't—no, couldn't do anything to stop him.

Her face now marred with frustration, she balled her firsts as she gave out a large moan to vent her frustration. It was almost cute. But again, her reiatsu was completely livid with her inner rage, of which she was only allowed to release so much; more than once has a distraught outlet of reiatsu tampered with the results of some trial.

Once more, he was quite shocked at how powerful her reiatsu felt; distinctly warm and potent, her reiatsu was comparable to a torrent of flame. Even now, his skin was becoming slightly dry.

She strode toward the doorway, now having nothing to show for her track over to the warehouse. By the time he and a few others started moving, she had left the room and concealed her presence abruptly. A creepy little stalker she is, when she does that.

He let out a long sigh, now realizing that he had held his breath…..putting a hand on his forehead, he had noticed that he was also sweating….and his heart rate had increased.

-X-

The hallway was dark, barely lit, but clean and pristine. Momo continued walking at her fast pace, already nearing the iron doorway.

She was silent, and her face held a grimace. In this hallway with her black uniform, she almost looked like a ghost with her pale complexion; it's been awhile since she last felt the sun on her skin. In fact, it's been a long while since she's been up so high before. She normally found herself in the deeper regions of the institute—not she minded or anything—she found that it is quieter down there, and fewer annoyances.

She was in front of the door now, and raised her hand to strike the astute frame. But she found her hand stopping an inch away before a knock could be created. Her small, clenched fist was literally tingling with how close it was to the cold, smooth metal.

She was hesitating. Look a bit closer and you could see that same small hand was shivering.

Everyone, new or not, knew that Kurotsuchi spends nearly all of his day experimenting and researching, and only relaxing at his own leisure. Further, everyone knew that disturbing him, during any of those times, could very well mean a severe punishment of the worst sort. By which means experimentation. Or perhaps you pay a flesh sample in the form of an arm or leg as the toll for the audience.

The rule was simple: Either you come with an order, delivery of supplies, or something else worth his time…..or suffer a cruel (and likely unusual) punishment.

No one should enter unless they thought through their actions.

She stood still, like a statue, as she mulled this over. She was coming to him because of a lost sample of thorium, which she desperately needed for her own experiments. Did he not say that "she could use anything she desired"? The man who had taken this from her clearly ignored that fact, and he demanded clarification.

So she was justified, right?

Even if he viewed this as a nuisance, she wouldn't be that severely punished. Perhaps a few sharp words a permanent ultimatum on never entering this particular room.

With that, she made a small, almost un-seeable smirk. Yes, she was in the right. Even the smallest of contradictions to his orders, or even remarks, would be dealt with swiftly and with the upmost hostility.

His word is law.

With that, she knocked. The small 'clang' that emanated from the contact was small, but it echoed none the less. So much so, it actually became louder than she expected.

In fact, that echo was uncanny, given the terrain. It shouldn't be resounding so far, and with such a deep tone. As if the sound made her presence acknowledged, the door opened. It shifted to the side to where it went inside the wall with a 'whoosh', allowing the cool air inside to hit her face.

She remembered the first time she saw such a setting before her. She let out gasps of astonishment and awe, but now the scenery was so normal that it barely earned a second glance from her impassive face as she set foot inside of the personal lab.

The tubes of all sizes, thick, thin, long, wide, short—each pulsing in rhythmic motions or remaining motionless—each contained a liquid or some source of electricity as they lay about the ground. The frothing and surging of the said liquid only making the said protrusions and strewn threads all the more noticeable if you could ignore its technological counterparts. The hum and buzzing electricity at work was resonating within the room, and the steel plating of the machinery glistened and reflected the light of all the data and texts that was surging all over the translucent panels. The tools and other mechanics came in all varieties and sorts; some edged or curved, others sleek, others rough, others slender and others twisting and turning every which way. The tubes that loitered the shelves and the containments all glowed with liquid and chemicals, each with its own effect and properties.

She continued walking, careful not to trip on anything, as she started to transverse further into the room, allowing the darkness to encompass her as she went farther and farther away from the glittering lights.

She walked on continuously, blindly bypassing the numerous wires that encompassed her path. Even in this dim light she could eventually see the stark white of his haori as she squinted her eyes. His hunched over form only confirmed to her what she already suspected; he was experimenting.

She flinched, clearly registering the spiritual pressure beside her, as she turned to her head to gaze at the shadow hidden form of his assistant.

Nemu, she was sure, was looking at her with her typical emotionless expression "Mai Yuaru, what is your reason here?"

She looked at her face, as she replied, with a voice nearly as monotone as her own "I am here to discuss something with Captain Mayuri." Respect was of the upmost importance here, and that usually equated to dull response and submission.

Despite that, however, Nemu still noted the slight meekness in her voice, and the covering revertum of her bitter resentment.

She glanced down at her, addressing her in the most direct way "He is not seeing visitors. I'm sorry, but you can't disturb him. Please return to your original location." She made a slight gesture toward the door which was no longer visible behind her, and continued to stare at the girl before her, as if only willing to move if she left.

"B-but I can't leave just yet Nemu fuku-taicho! I have to—"

"Please leave." She said, her voice fluctuating in only the slightest, to show of her single waver of emotion. A feeling of which, the small girl found her brain surging to decipher.

Those thoughts were cut short, when a voice; low and unreadable, called out "Let her come, Nemu." His hands were laid flat on the surface of a steel table as he hunched over, his back blatantly sporting the Gotei 13 rhombus.

She walked forward tentatively, trying to looked as respectable as possible as she stood before her commanding officer "Ah….Sir, I would like to discuss the violation of the terms of my privileges here in the Institute."

"Oh?" the way he said it was like only half listening, with his mind wandering elsewhere. But it held a vehemence, something which we suddenly started to dread.

"Y-yes. I…..w-well, you see….some materials were—"

"I don't care!" Not even enough time for a blink had passed when she found herself roughly grabbed; and even less time, when she found herself on the table, having a sharp, metallic substance poised at her neck.

Her back was on the table, her small head held in the strong lanky appendages of the 12th division captain's hand; with every finger and joint pressing on the skin on her face and hair, with enough force to render her skull unable to move to even look at him in the eye. That pallid skin still felt ice-cold, she realized. The extended nails felt like glass, and his reiatsu felt like prickling needles and made her blood run so fast that it made her heat up. All of that with the scalpel he held to her jugular, that stung her skin with the pang of flesh about to be cut open.

She could feel his breath near her face as he leaned closer, as if inspecting the creature he had caught "You came here, disrupted my research and even had the audacity to disturb me further! All over some petty problem with materials! Such impudence!" he hissed. To accompany it, he slightly inserted the scalpel, making the girl wince. "Had I not made it perfectly clear that you are to stay to yourself as you continue your own agenda? Have I not made it clear that you are not permitted to disturb me for such trivial matter!?"

The edged tool flittered and slithered, by way of a practiced hand, to her face as it gently scathed her cheek. He leaned over, and the girl stained her eyes to look at his face; a face with its usual indifference that could instantly be marred with anger at any moment. His eyes wavered slightly as he gazed at every portion of her face, delving here and there, lingering every once in a while to look at some obscurity on her face. Those eyes then proceeded to wander even further, scrutinizing her every arm, leg and appendage. After only so long, he gave out a snort "Hmph! Hardly an ideal specimen! You'd barely last 5 minutes…."

She tried her best to silence an oncoming shriek as the scientist's tool suddenly entered her flesh, but all that came out anyway was a gasp as she felt the warm liquid pool out the wound. That warm sensation was quickly countered with a cold one, as a pale finger swiped it away. Such bright crimson made for a highly contradictory palate on his hand—the red stuck out like a sore thumb.

Peering at it, the scientist continued looking at it as if it held the answers to the universe. Then he proceeded to get rid of it, allowing his tongue to lap up the sticky substance as he licked his finger clean.

He almost seemed enthralled with it, had it not been with the eyes that were distinctly on her. It was only when he was done with his venture that he turned his full attention to the one he not held captive "Well….five minutes will be all I need anyway. I can make a few adjustments."

As her eyes widened, her pupils dilating, he asked her, with a small grin now being applied on his face "So, Momo, how shall I begin?" he traced a finger over the still-seeping wound as he began applying restraints.

He didn't bother with anesthetics, nor did he bother with proper procedure. The afternoon of that reclusive room was filled with injections, cuts and screams.

-X-

-x-

Mai (lit. Truth reliant) Yuaru (reasons exists)

Pronounced "Ma" and then "ii" like saying the letter E. Also a pun on the word "mai" which means "dance".

真 (ma) "real, true"

依 (i) "reliant

由 (yu) "reason"

在 (aru)-exist