Chapter Three: Torment, Despair, Addiction

Tranquility returns to Las Noches after the disappearance of Cyan. No longer are there ghostly footsteps looming through every corridor. Her scent cannot be smelled from the afterglow of her passing. Passively sprawled over his mount of pillows, Stark found it difficult to sleep. Even though it was quite displeasing, now, there was no reason for him not to sleep. Either way, with Cyan lurking about or without her, but maybe there was just something wrong with him. The thought of her made him shudder as he pulled himself up. If only he could find a way to exhaust his body enough to embrace sleep the minute he put his head down.

Stark stood, slipping out of his room, unnoticed. There was no one around to speak to since Lilinette had already excused herself to her room, and the only other person that came to mind…well, she certainly was not anyone he wanted to meet up with now. Scared that if he showed any sign of comfort around her, would lead her to become attached. Was it that bad? Shaking the thoughts out of his head, he agreed with himself. It would be tasteless if Cyan sided with him so easily, with or without his comfort around her.

The halls were indeed terribly long and hollow, Stark though, annoyed. Slowly, halfway down the hall he realized something…and used his Sonido to quicken the dreaded process.

Leaving the large dome, Stark stood outside taking in the thick, cold air. Staring at the unchanging sky, recalling the years he had spent roaming around before serving Aizen. A surge of energy caught his attention, his eyes staring straight ahead, staring at the convulsion of power arising into the night sky. A silhouetted figure appeared before his eyes, approaching Las Noches.

His eyes widening slightly, after taking in the full sight of Cyan approaching the dome covered in blood, her eyes seemed indifferent, and her clothing was still intact. The blood etched on her clothes obviously belonged to someone else. Cyan's gaze met his for a mere second before looking towards the entrance of Las Noches. Stark did not move from his place even when she was close to him, but it was unlike her to only glance and turn away before entering. What happened?

Stark turned around completely, staring at the door as it closed behind the ghostly trail Cyan abandoned. Placing his hand on his head, he let out an exhausted sigh.

Nnoitra lurked around the halls, which he predicted were in use by Cyan early in the morning as well as late at night. He had known that she was fond of wandering around even if others viewed her intentions incorrectly. Plainly, the only motive why he was intending to stalk Cyan was to figure out the little truth that Aizen refused to tell. It was the best way to pass time, instead of looking around for someone to scare. Cyan was probably the toughest Arrancar to get a hold of, even if she was a part of his Fraccion. She certainly did not act the part and Tesla had something to say about her already.

Tesla walked down the hall, looking straight ahead towards Nnoitra's bedroom, but found himself being slammed onto the wall by the Espada he searched for. "Nnoitra-sama," he muttered, frightened slightly.

"Where's that woman?" Nnoitra questioned, angry.

"Cyan just left her room, Nnoitra-sama," Tesla replied.

Cyan, Cyan, Cyan, everything in Las Noches revolved around that filth, Nnoitra thought stomping down the hall. There were rumors arising all around, each of them speaking of short accusations of the woman. What had she done? Why was it so essential to keep her alive as an Arrancar? Other defects were instantly killed or cast away into the basement of Las Noches.

"Nnoitra," the small voice called. Alert, Nnoitra turned around quickly, swinging his large zanpaku-to at the woman standing behind him. Cyan pulled her zanpaku-to up quickly before his hit her. She stared at him expressionless. She was obviously not afraid. "Kill me once I've fulfilled my purpose for you, until then, do not raise your sword at me."

"Don't tell me what to do, you bitch!" Nnoitra shouted, shoving Cyan into the wall. She cringed at the small stab on her lower back.

Cyan pressed her hand against the wall as she slipped down, making her body fall purposely to give her master the pleasure of hurting her and walking away. Nnoitra stood before her, watching her fall on the ground like a broken doll, there were no signs of injury, not like a normal weak woman. She was unharmed. Why was her skin so strong?

"It hurts," Cyan mumbled in fake distress, pulling her body up to a seat. Acting was simple, seeing as how well she remembered her past.

Nnoitra scoffed, turned away and left, his mind wondering what he had to do to get rid of her. Cyan's eyes remained on Nnoitra's back, watching him leave. Surely, the shame of becoming a part of an Espada's Fraccion was her way of punishing herself. Aizen had made it clear that she was free to do whatever she wished.

"Cyan." Her eyes wandered around the hall until they fell upon Stark. It made absolutely no sense to her how he managed to appear before her. She looked away, still sitting against the cracked wall as Stark walked closer to her. Embarrassed, she felt too dizzy to pull herself up. Her mind was playing tricks on her.

Stark bent over slowly, grabbing Cyan's arm and pulling her to her feet. Cyan turned towards him flabbergasted and hesitant. Stark let go of her arm. Cyan tried to walk forward, but found her leg bending, causing her to fall. Stark reached his arm over and caught her, pulling her up once more.

"You're being mistreated," he began. Cyan pulled away from his grasp.

"I was acting," she confessed, looking down.

"Are you afraid?"

"Of?" she questioned lightly, not looking at him.

"What you're feeling."

"I thought my well-being didn't concern you." Stark seemed taken aback by her words, even though he had told her around a week ago that he wished she were dead. He did not mean it as much as it seemed.

Stark rolled his eyes and walked away, deserting Cyan on purpose. If he stood there any longer, he would have made a bigger fool of himself. Even if he was in a bad mood that night because of her and he may have gone much farther by wishing her dead, he could not just admit he never meant anything. Cyan may have been a woman, but she seemed to be the type that would get the wrong idea.

Again, again, again, again, again, again…I feel a terrible. There is something burning at my insides, telling me to let go. I ask, time and time again, but I am not aware of what to let go of. What do I need to do? What have I done? Cyan's mind was going insane. Her sleeping quarter was remarkably small compared to the Espada. Though she had often been considered a favorite, she was not treated as anything other than a common Arrancar. Even though Cyan put a lot of thought into trivial matters, she hardly cared for them.

Cyan rolled over on the cold floor, staring at the darkened ceiling. The dim light coming from the miniscule window managed to light up a square in her room. It told her she was still alive after so many years. Instead of thinking about the rumors and pests that bother her in Las Noches, the things floating about in her mind where the amount of years she spent in Hueco Mundo.

"Around two-hundred, or possibly more," Cyan whispered, curiously. "It may have been more." It had definitely been more.

A knock at her door startled her. Cyan jolted to a seat and scurried towards the door, opening it, her heart beating out of her chest from the scare. Her eyes widened at the sight of Stark, leaning against the doorframe staring down at her.

"You were being called."

Cyan stood straight, unaware. "By whom?" she asked.

"Me."