As he sat and watched the monitor that showed Ichigo's room, Aizen's thoughts briefly turned to Orihime Inoue. It had actually been the little girl who had inspired the next step in Ichigo's breaking.
Five days ago, before Ulquiorra began denying the boy his sleep, Orihime had requested to see Aizen. Slightly surprised, the cuarta Espada complied. Perhaps the girl had broken?
But no, he thought- she was determined. He could see it in the steely glint of her grey eyes.
When he presented her to Aizen, Ulquiorra lingered. What had possessed her to seek out the leader of the arrancar?
Aizen chuckled to himself. He could still hear Orihime's sweet voice raised passionately as she asserted herself, the first time since she'd been in Las Noches. Unsurprisingly, it was on the behalf of another.
"Aizen-sama," Orihime had begun, "please stop hurting Kurosaki-kun."
"Why, Orihime-chan?" he'd inquired kindly.
"Kurosaki-kun..." She paused. "Kurosaki-kun won't join you if you hurt him like that!" she yelled, tears forming in her eyes. "I know him. So please, stop. If you must... must do this, try convincing him in another way! Just don't hurt Kuroskai-kun anymore!" This girl, now trembling in front of him, would not fight for herself, but she would fight for this boy.
Idly he thought, she must love him. It might be beneficial to let one of his subordinates work on that; after all, as long as she was loyal to someone not among Aizen's followers, there was still that spark of defiance that might rear its head. He would have someone crush that lingering bit of hope. But in the meantime, this girl's words sparked a thought.
"What would you have me do, Orihime-chan?" Aizen asked, a kindly smile on his face. Beneath the façade, his brown eyes coldly calculated the young girl in front of him.
"Be nice to Kurosaki-kun," she said, now timidly, shrinking back in on herself with fear.
Be kind, hm? Would it work? Breaking him with kindness? With gentleness?
... With pleasure?
He grinned, though it was softened so as not to alarm the girl.
"Thank you, Orihime-chan. You have aided me in seeing how cruelly I was treating our guest." Aizen paused for effect. "Ichigo-kun will no longer be hurt while in my care; I swear it." Obviously he was lying. But the girl believed it.
"Thank you, Aizen-sama!" she squeaked before being led away by Ulquiorra. As his fourth espada looked back at him, Aizen gave him a look that promised talk later. He knew exactly how to break Kurosaki Ichigo now. To think it took a silly girl like Inoue Orihime to make him see it.
Aizen turned his thoughts back to the present, and faced the monitor as the sound of a door opening was relayed to him. Fingers curled around the edge of the armrest as he watched his espada entering the room and approaching the blissfully unaware redhead.
This would break the stubborn boy. He was sure of it.
"Wake up, shinigami."
A shoe-clad foot pressed down harshly on Ichigo's thin chest, thrusting the air from his lungs. The boy woke gasping for breath, eyes flying open to take in the form standing above him.
Grimmjow grinned widely, eyes narrowed as he stared at Ichigo. Behind him stood Ulquiorra.
"G-Grimmjow," he coughed out, glaring in return to the insane smile thrown his way. The blue-haired espada reached down and picked him up by the front of his shirt. Surprisingly, he simply set Ichigo on his feet and stepped back next to Ulquiorra, hands in his pockets.
Ichigo stood, swaying slightly. He was still exhausted from days without sleep; what fresh new hell had they devised this time? With Grimmjow there, it seemed likely that he was going to get more of Ichimaru Gin's treatment. Ichigo winced at the very thought.
But what would going from violence to non-violence, back to violence again do? It was too simple for Aizen.
There had to be something else.
"Are you still resistant to Aizen-sama's offer?" Ulquiorra inquired calmly. All three already knew what his answer would be.
Ichigo scoffed. "I've already told you; I won't betray my friends."
"That is... unfortunate," the cuarta espada murmured. "Grimmjow?"
Ichigo couldn't even see it coming. The sexta espada backhanded him into the couch, and suddenly both arrancar were towering over him.
"Aizen-sama wants him uninjured, Sexta. Be more careful," Ulquiorra reprimanded.
"Tch. I'm allowed to rough him up a little, Cuarta." Grimmjow's intense blue eyes never left Ichigo's face.
"What the hell are you two talking about?" Ichigo growled. The two were acting very strangely. He felt like a kid again, and the "grown-ups" were busy talking about things he couldn't know yet. It was more than a little frustrating.
Ulquiorra leaned a little closer to Ichigo and said, "Aizen-sama is displeased, Kurosaki Ichigo." The boy in question appeared surprised. Was this the first time Ulquiorra had ever referred to him by name? And why was he getting so close to him? Physical contact in battle was nothing strange. You had to get close to your enemy to fight them; this Ichigo knew. Why now, in the furthest place from battle, was Ulquiorra nearly touching him?
Ichigo shifted further away from the white-skinned arrancar.
"What? I'm not breaking quite the way he planned, is that it?" Ichigo asked with a faked laugh.
"Precisely," the espada replied, now perched on the couch, closer. "Now you will answer for it."
The cocky smile dropped from Ichigo's face.
"Grimmjow."
The shinigami didn't even wait to see what Grimmjow was supposed to do, and kicked out at him as soon as he was in range. It was like kicking a brick wall; painful and ineffectual.
Grimmjow laughed, and climbed on the couch behind Ichigo's head. Grabbing the boy's thin wrists, he yanked them above his head and held tightly.
"Get the hell off of me," Ichigo growled, twisting within Grimmjow's grasp.
"These are our orders," Ulquiorra told him. Ichigo looked at the other man, who was now kneeling by his feet. "Unless you join Aizen-sama, we cannot stop." His cold, green eyes settled on Ichigo's face as he undressed.
Ichigo watched in growing horror as he realized what was happening. The espada undressed carefully, draping his jacket and hakama on the back of the couch. Grimmjow tightened his hold on Ichigo's wrists in anticipation.
"Don't you fucking touch me, you sick fuck!" he yelled, kicking his feet in Ulquiorra's direction. His kicks made contact, but the arrancar was unaffected; after all, why should he? Ichigo could barely harm him when he was at his best. With his reiatsu suppressed like it was, he stood very little chance of hurting him. Still, he wouldn't give up.
"This was your choice, Kurosaki," Grimmjow reminded him. The shinigami could hear the naked glee in his voice.
Ulquiorra leaned forward and untied the sash holding Ichigo's hakama, sliding the fabric from tanned skin. The boy beneath him kicked out, this time aiming for Ulquiorra's head, but the espada easily caught his legs and held them still. Slowly, he unfastened Ichigo's jacket and shirt. The boy blushed when the cool air touched his exposed body.
Fingers as cold and hard as steel grasped his thighs, the espada's unfeeling eyes never leaving Ichigo's face.
"Stop." He tried to ignore the tremulous tone to his voice.
"I cannot," Ulquiorra stated coldly, gripping Ichigo's hips with enough force to bruise bones. There would be no effort to make this pleasanter for Ichigo. It was, after all, meant to be persuasive, and nothing was more persuasive than the fear of pain.
The espada lifted the shinigami's hips to a proper level, and in one swift thrust, he entered the boy.
The pain was enough to make Ichigo cry out. His spine arched as the pain from his backside radiated upwards, spreading to every nerve in his body. It was a disturbing feeling, being filled up one moment and then nearly empty the next, in a part of his body that Ichigo never used for anything more than going to the bathroom. He grit his teeth, trying to ignore whatever was dropping hotly between them, while Ulquiorra found a steady pace. In, out, in out, in out.
Like breathing, Ichigo thought with a short burst of hysterical laughter. The laugh turned into a sharp inhalation of pain mixed with shame. An unconscious groan escaped his lips as he pulled at his arms, still caught in Grimmjow's grasp, but the other arrancar held him tightly. He tried moving away from Ulquiorra, struggling somehow, but it only made the sensations amplify.
He abruptly stopped moving.
Ichigo squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block all feeling below his waist. This wasn't happening, this couldn't be happening. He had never dreamed of Aizen going this far to persuade him to his side. He wasn't worth this much trouble... this much perversion.
The pain was nearly unbearable now; he could easily imagine the couch beneath him stained brightly with blood. Ichigo hated to hear his pained cries ringing out with every thrust, but he would not beg. He would not give in, even if it killed him.
Unshed tears burned at the corners of his eyes.
Gradually, he became aware of the rising pleasure. The pain was still very much present, but now every plunge of Ulquiorra's hips sent a little jolt of pleasure through his body. Even he couldn't miss his growing erection.
Grimmjow's mouth slipped upwards into a cruel, mocking smile. His blue eyes bore into Ichigo's, and the redhead knew exactly what the arrancar was thinking.
"No," he whispered harshly, glaring at the espada.
It's not me, Ichigo told himself. He couldn't possibly enjoy this. It was his traitorous body, not him, notnotnotnot.
It was almost a relief when he felt the sudden wetness between his thighs. It was over, and he had, in a way, won the battle.
Nonetheless, he felt tired, used, and guilty. Ulquiorra pulled out and dropped Ichigo back to the couch. The espada dressed swiftly, and went to stand in a corner of the room.
Beneath half-lidded but frantic eyes, Ichigo gazed blearily at the arrancar. He ignored the various sensations still coming from below his waist. Behind him, Grimmjow was shifting around; he still hadn't let go of his arms. They were numb, like he wished everything else was.
"Was that it?" the boy asked, trying to put up a tough front. Inside he felt like crawling into a hole somewhere and never coming out.
Ulquiorra watched him with apathetic green eyes. Something wet and warm trailed along Ichigo's cheek, and his breath caught.
"You should have killed me when you had the chance, Kurosaki Ichigo," Grimmjow whispered, laughing.
A scream resonated from the monitor.
Aizen smiled.
