Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach
Caged
By annyenil
Chapter 3
"Taichou, this place is so exciting!" A restless Matsumoto Rangiku stuck her head above the din of the equally excited crowd that was swarming towards the large trapeze and campus of the latest Cirque d'Etoile performance. Cirque d'Etoile was simply the most fantastic circus there ever existed on the planet, with its strange, creepy freak shows, amazing acrobatic stunts and the most farcical clowning acts that some critiques gave it accolades as comparable to the Emperor's best court jesters.
Hitsugaya Toushirou's heart had no place for such gratuitous attacks on humanity, especially those poor monkeys being chained together like Mongolian Barbeque, that he could only concentrate on not getting stepped on. It was really annoying, for in a place as crowded as this, he had no option but to let his smirking fukutaichou lead him around blindly, which also meant that he had absolutely no control over where he was heading. And that was how he ended up stepping into a tent that was musky and mouldy, and seemed to be coated enigmatically with a thin, glistening layer of dust.
"MATSUMOTO!" He bellowed, as the two of them quickly escaped from the tent, just in time to foment a tsunami of dust that nearly engulfed them. Realising that Rangiku was grabbing his sweaty palms once they have calmed down, he extracted himself with a rather boyish irritation and reminded Rangiku of the reason they were there. They had been sent by Soul Society after Kuchiki Rukia returned to report of the strange death incidence occurring in Tokyo. To them, it had not mattered whether it was Karakura town, or Okinawa, but it did strike them that the spirit level in Tokyo was a lot less dense than it was in Karakura, which was probably an all time peak.
Right ahead, if they could somehow make it, were a long, long, endless queue that led entrance into the day's highlight: Spot the Death God Freak-Show! Rumours had been spread around that if an audience member could see somebody or some movement during the mythical performance, they would pass away within the next week from the curse of the Death God. So far the rumour had replicated itself in reality without foil as near fifty victims had fallen into the curse after seeing the supposed Death. It's impossible….Toushirou thought to himself, humans are such foolish creatures.
The first week after the show opened, two teenaged high school girls shrieked that they had seen a man in a black traditional costume with the most strange shade of hair colour slashing a katana at them. Soon after, they stabbed themselves and passed away tragically in the looming toilets of the school building. The second week, a young girl and several others exclaimed that a man in a black, tattered long coat with gusts of hurricane swirling behind him had glared so fiercely at them, that it felt as though the glare alone had torn their souls apart. After self-derision and constant murmurings from around, all of them succumbed to death and committed suicide within the next week. Just the week before, another few audience members spotted a man with a mask on his face so malicious looking that one old man had a cardiac arrest.
And yet, the audience kept flooding in. Some wanting to see this Death for themselves, some wanting to be myth-busters, some just inquisitive for no more curious or intriguing event had taken in the bustling, workaholic's city of Tokyo for such an extensive time, even if death was involved, it was worth the fun and drive.
"Taichou, from those descriptions……don't you think it is……?"
"That is what we are here to check."
"Why don't we leave our gigai behind and sneak inside instead."
"We can't, Matsumoto. If they can spot whatever that is in the show, they'd probably be able to see us too."
"So what do we do now?" Rangiku sighed and pouted coquettishly at her little taichou, who frowned a little and shrugged.
"Now, we wait."