A/N: And here we continue the saga of 'let's see how much I can mess a pair of children up'. Warnings: Brief sexual abuse, implied torture, hell of a lot of depression.
Sousuke and Sayuri come into Matsushita Ryuga's care at the age of eight, and stay with him for nearly seven years. By the time they're fourteen, both Sousuke and Sayuri have each killed over 200 people.
The first time Matsushita Ryuga watched the Aizen siblings perform, he was spellbound. He'd bought them on a whim, really; one of his men had mentioned some poor peasant woman who apparently wanted to foist her children off for a bit of cash and who was he to refuse? To be honest, he hadn't expected much. After all, the kids were barely old enough to stand up and walk around, but he'd been intrigued by the report that the siblings were supposedly twins. Impossible to confirm and mostly likely a desperate ploy by the mother in an attempt to get more money (the thought of some random whore giving birth to twins was laughable) but he'd thought it might be amusing to throw them in the ring anyway. It had been a while since they'd had participants this young, and he'd missed it.
(It's almost funny the way they flail around and cry, so confused as to why they're being hurt. And there's something absolutely mesmerizing about seeing soft skin split open, fragile bones crushed into the dirt even as tiny voices sob and beg for a mommy that won't come.)
So when one of his guards shoved Aizen Sayuri into the ring, he'd sat down and prepared himself for an entertaining, if brief, show. And for a while, things had gone as expected. The girl was surprisingly adorable for a Rukongai brat, to his delight—brown wavy hair framing a face still chubby with baby fat, large dark eyes wide with confusion and apprehension, a soft, pouting mouth parted slightly as she took in the crowd around her. The first few seconds of the fight were as brutally one-sided as he'd predicted, but then…
To this day, Matsushita still doesn't know what caused the girl to snap. All he knows is that one minute she was on the ground getting the life squeezed out of her and the next, her opponent was flying halfway across the arena. In the blink of an eye she was on him, shattering his skull in a stunning display of strength. She didn't stop there either, continuing her assault until the boy's head was nothing but reddish gray pulp, her own originally-white robe stained dark red and splattered with pieces of tissue and fat.
The next week, her brother enters the arena and kills his own opponent with a single punch. They become an instant sensation; Matsushita hasn't earned so much money in years. There were a few mishaps near the beginning—a couple instances of insubordination and an escape attempt, which was only to be expected. Like any caring father, he disciplines them for it, ensures that they know they did something wrong, drives home the message that it won't be tolerated again, and forgives them. After they prove their worth after the first year, he even starts throwing in a few fighting lessons from his guards to help them improve their performance.
He's especially proud of little Sousuke. The first few years were beautiful in their own way, of course; unrestrained and wild in the way that only the desperate can manage. Once he started finding his rhythm though, well. The boy certainly knows how to play to an audience—toying with his prey, drawing out the fight, testing his limits even as he pushes his opponent past theirs and straight to the point of collapse. Although Sousuke is his favorite, Sayuri is a pleasure to watch as well. Her brother's opposite on the battlefield, Sayuri favors quick and decisive kills, clean to the point where it's a rare day she gets more than a speck or two of blood on her robes—a far cry from how she started out.
The thing they have in common, Matsushita thinks, that makes them so enthralling to watch, is how easy they make it all seem. It's true that he loves seeing people in the ring struggle, yes, likes watching human beings brought down to their basest instincts, but watching the Aizen siblings, whether it's Sousuke's crooked grin as he waves to the crowd or Sayuri's penetrating, intense stare as she coolly sizes up an opponent…he can't explain it, but it's a bit like watching gods in the making.
Two months before their fifteenth birthday, the twins are sold to Haruguchi Dan. They stay with him for six years and in that time, they have more than tripled their kill count. By their twentieth birthday, Sousuke has killed 690 people. Sayuri is right behind him at 688.
Buying the Aizen siblings, Haruguchi decides, was one of the best decisions of his life. They came at a hefty price, of course, which was only to be expected. To be honest, he's rather surprised that he managed to convince Matsushita to sell them at all. He hadn't thought that the greedy bastard would ever give up his two prized fighters.
When he'd asked Matsushita about it, the man had only chuckled.
Those kids may be my pride and joy, but I am first and foremost a businessman. That means I gotta calculate the risks against the benefits, and well…let me tell you, I ain't planning to be anywhere within 5 districts of those two once they finally figure out how strong they really are. He'd paused then, and the look he'd sent Haruguchi was almost pitying. Word of advice. Keep them happy. You'll be able to control them for a while by maintaining the illusion that you're stronger than them, but that'll only last so long. You've still got some time left since they're so young, but…don't make the mistake of thinking that just because they're children, they're in any way harmless.
Oh, come on. They're kids, he'd scoffed. No matter how strong they are, they've gotta have weaknesses.
Sure, Matsushita had agreed. Only one that's big enough to matter though.
And what's that?
Why, each other, of course.
He doesn't bother following Matsushita's advice. As far as he's concerned, the man's an idiot, and a coward to boot. Honestly, he had the kids for seven years and in that time, he never once had them fight together in a match. Although the siblings are fairly popular in certain circles already, their value goes through the roof as soon as he starts marketing them as twins, since they're rare enough in the afterlife that people will pay triple just to see them perform together. Better yet, they're good enough at this point that he can throw them in the ring with up to ten opponents without worrying about one of them getting accidentally killed off.
He does give them a two week break before fights however; the last thing he wants is them getting burned out. He also allows them each one hobby—drawing for the girl, and reading for the boy. He isn't completely inhumane, after all.
Sometimes, Sayuri wonders if there is any of Lily left in her, if she retains any piece of the girl she once was—the trusting, kindhearted, empathetic girl who'd dreamed of helping people by becoming a doctor. She rather doubts it, although that brings up the question of when exactly she'd stopped being Lily and had become Sayuri (the girl who couldn't look at someone without calculating the most efficient way of killing them first, who had long since stopped losing sleep at the thought of murder) instead. Was it after that first match? Or maybe it happened when she was shut away for two weeks in an underground prison, the mind-numbing fear and loneliness (nonono let me out please I promise I won't try to run away again just please please please let me out) suffocating all her dreams of escape. Or maybe it was when she'd started seeing people as obstacles rather than people.
It's just…it's so difficult to care and although she wants to, wants to keep her promise to Yamato, caring takes energy and she's so tired these days. Most of the time, the only thing driving her to get out of bed is Sousuke and his requests to tell him a story, to help him learn his kanji, to play a game with him, and when she's in the ring, the only thing stopping her from allowing an opponent's knife to slip under her guard (so that everything will be over already and she can rest) is her refusal to leave her brother behind. She won't do that to him. She may be a monster but she will not allow herself to abandon Sousuke the way their mother abandoned them.
The worst days are the ones where she wonders if she's even human anymore. After all, humans feel, they hurt and bleed and cry and laugh, and Sayuri can't even remember the last time she did any of that. She isn't even sure if she can do that at this point, feel more than a hollow emptiness inside her chest. Maybe that's why she allows one of Haruguchi's business associates to take her to bed.
When the man had pulled her aside on her way to the bathroom, one hand covering her mouth tightly while the other held a knife to her throat, she hadn't even been surprised. Had been expecting it, even. She's well aware of the lust people feel for her and her brother, has sensed their desire skittering at the edge of her awareness like ants crawling over her skin amidst the excitement and anticipation in the arena. It doesn't bother her too much, as long as they keep away from Sousuke—despite how she looks, it's not like she's a child, after all, and these people already pay bucket-loads of money to see kids fight each other to death. What's a few wandering hands in comparison to that?
This is the first time someone has gone this far though, and she can't deny that she feels a sick sort of curiosity as she's pushed to the floor, rough hands already pawing at her clothes. Sex is one experience she's never had before, and she wonders if it'll hurt as badly as she's heard it will.
"Not even going to fight back, huh?" The man—he sounds like a noble—grunts in her ear. "What, you really that dead inside? I've seen you in the fights; you don't even bat an eye when you get hit. Haruguchi said that you were tame, but you actually don't give a fuck about this, do you? That's alright with me though. Saves me the trouble of breaking you myself." He smiles cruelly, running a finger over her bare shoulder. When she still doesn't react, something ugly flashes across his face before he continues. "Or is this something you actually want? No, I see how it is now. That's right, you know you deserve this, don't you? All those people you've killed…you've been a very bad girl," he teases, hands caressing her sides, tweaking her non-existent breasts. "And girls like you don't get nice things, like flowers and sweet words and pretty jewelry." With one smooth movement, he rips Sayuri's necklace off her and for the first time, Sayuri feels something twist inside her chest. "No, girls like you deserve to get hurt."
He goes back to kissing her, grinding down on her as he bites her lips and invades her mouth with his tongue, but this time Sayuri kisses him back. He stiffens slightly in surprise but before he can pull away, she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him close.
"Maybe I do," she murmurs against his lips. "But not like this."
He jolts in her hold and she shoves him off her as his body goes suddenly limp. Glancing at the still-warm corpse next to her, Sayuri stares thoughtfully at the knife embedded in the base of his skull—she'd found it hidden in his robes and although it was a bit lavish for her tastes, the quality was obvious and there was no sense in wasting a decent weapon.
"Sorry, but I was a victim once," she informs the body as she pulls the knife out with a wet squelch, before picking up her necklace and slipping it into her pocket. "I won't be one again."
As she walks out the door, she feels lighter than she has in years.
Sneaking into Haruguchi's private quarters when she can sense the location of each and every person in the building is child's play. Sayuri can't help but marvel how easy everything is. She hasn't allowed herself to think of escaping since her first and only attempt, but surely things shouldn't be this simple, should they?
She estimates that she has maybe two hours before anyone discovers the body she hid. That's fine—two hours is more than enough time.
It isn't long until Haruguchi stumbles into the room, reeking of sake with two giggling prostitutes on either side of him. He stops dead at the sight of her, confusion plain in his demeanor.
"What the hell are you doing here?" He slurs. "Get the fuck out of here!"
"Did you send him after me?" She asks, ignoring him.
"The fuck are you talking about?"
"That noble. Did you give him permission to have sex with me?" Sayuri asks mildly. "Answer the question, Haruguchi-sama." He stills and the barest hint of trepidation flickers through his reiatsu.
"So what if I did? He gave me a good price," Haruguchi says defiantly. "You…you did give him a good time, right? He's one of my best sponsors and I owed him a favor."
"Oh, I daresay he won't be complaining to anyone anytime soon," Sayuri replies pleasantly, twirling her new knife around. Haruguchi's eyes widen and he opens his mouth, but before he can shout for any of his guards, Sayuri tackles him to the floor and wraps a hand around his throat. "Make a sound and I'll slit your throat right now," she says evenly, before looking towards the prostitutes.
"That goes for you too. And don't even try making a run for it. I guarantee that however fast you are, I'm faster." Sayuri pauses for a moment. "Besides, I'm sure you both know how much Haruguchi-sama enjoys an audience. It would be dreadfully rude of you not to provide him with one. Now, sit down, do as I say, and I promise I'll let you leave unharmed."
"What—why are you doing this?" Haruguchi croaks, face pale with fear. She can see the realization dawning in his eyes and she feels a rush of vicious satisfaction at the desperation she can sense in his reiatsu.
"I suppose I've just had a wakeup call. Besides, I've recently discovered that it's much more enjoyable to kill someone of my own volition than it is to kill someone on another person's orders. I suppose I should thank you for your part in that. I don't think I've felt this alive in years," Sayuri murmurs, digging her nails into his jugular. Behind her, one of the prostitutes starts crying but she ignores them. What does she have to cry about? It's not like she's the one getting hurt. "Now, I normally don't like to draw out my kills but I think with you, I'll make an exception."
"Wait, no! You—you can't do this," he gasps out, straining against her hold.
"Can't I?" She asks softly, cocking her head to the side. "You seem to be under the impression that you're still in control here. Please, allow me to disabuse you of that notion."
Sousuke must sense her approach because she can feel him stop pacing and run to the door. His reiatsu is a tangled mess of agitation and confusion and when she steps inside, he doesn't waste any time in rushing to her side.
"Where were you?" He demands, before her appearance registers and his eyes widen in shock. "Why are you covered in blood? Are you hurt?" He scans her over quickly and when he can't find any sign of injury, he turns his attention back to her face, eyes oddly intent. "Sayuri, what did you do?"
"Something I should have done a long time ago," she replies, feeling strangely calm. She's prepared for an onslaught of questions, but instead he pauses for a long moment, his reiatsu probing hers tentatively. When he looks up again, there's an almost hungry expression on his face.
"You're happy," Sousuke murmurs, a kind of quiet awe in his voice. "You…you haven't been happy in…"
"Not now. We have to go—Haruguchi's dead," she interrupts him. Her brother glances at her sharply, eyes skimming over her blood-soaked clothes, and puts two and two together.
"I don't need anything," he says, before glancing at the stacks and stacks of portraits lining the back wall of the room. "Sayuri—?"
She looks over there as well, biting her lips in hesitation. Finally, she runs over and grabs two portraits—carefully set aside from the rest—and shoves them into her yukata, before turning to her brother.
"Sousuke, do you remember that trick we figured out last week? With the fire?" She asks. He blinks in surprise.
"Sure," he answers, snapping his fingers and calling a small flame to his fingertips. She smiles and motions towards the stacks of paper.
"Would you care to do the honors, then?"
Later, as they watch the building go up in flames from a safe distance away, Sousuke leans against her side, slipping his hand into hers.
"I'm sorry you didn't get to keep your pictures," he murmurs.
"It's okay," she says, as thick black smoke billows up towards the sky. "I don't think they'd have minded us using their pictures for this."
"Does this mean we're free then?"
Sayuri is silent for a moment, thinking over the past twelve years of her life. Honestly, it still seems so surreal. Haruguchi has controlled every aspect of their lives for the past six years—he's decided what they eat, when they sleep, what forms of entertainment they're allowed, who they kill, and how they're punished—and for him to be dead…
It seems stupid, but looking back, a part of her has always believed him to be…invincible, is the only way she can describe it. Certainly untouchable. In fact, had she not made that split second decision to kill her would-be rapist, she never would have developed the nerve or the motivation to confront him—after all, the most he'd done to her before then was shove her in the ring, and she hadn't really cared about that by the time she came into his care. What was killing a few more people when she'd already killed hundreds, after all? But now, with him gone…
"Yeah," she says finally, squeezing her brother's hand tightly. "We're free."
A/N: Me writing this chapter: Now what would a psychopath do in this situation, now what would a psychopath think in this situation, oh my god I'm becoming a psychopath.
Poor Sayuri and Sousuke. By the time they got strong enough to do anything about their situation, they were already too indifferent to even try. And Sayuri…she's not actively suicidal, but a part of her does believe that she deserves to be hurt for her actions. That necklace kind of showed her that she was becoming a (more murderous) version of her mother, and well…she loves Shiori in her own way, but she hates her too. And Shiori's one of the last people she wants to resemble in any way.
(Also FYI, before writing this chapter, I hadn't realized how terrifying I'd make Sayuri turn out. Kissing someone just to distract them so she can murder them in cold blood? He deserved it, but still. Yikes).
Oh, and if any of you were confused, the two portraits she kept were of Lily and Yamato. As far as she's concerned, they're the only two people she really wants to remember. And the twins are physically about 7-8 at the end of this chapter.
Gonna be a (really) long wait before I can write again. School's started and I already kinda want to die.
