Night clung like a thick blanket in the air. Dark, threatening storm clouds covered the sky, blocking out the twinkle from the stars, and the bright beam of the full moon. The torches from the carriage cast an eerie light, as the two white mares leading it sped through the forest. The surrounding trees looked demonic and deadly as the carriage pushed by them, the branches curling and scratching against the sides of it. Dark brown, nearly black eyes stared out from the carriage''s window, as the sound of reins snapping, and the driver's calls filled the silence. Turning his attention back inside, Tousen frowned as his fingers ran over a worn, black and white photo. The woman in the picture stared back at him, long raven hair pulled back into a neat braid, a soft smile gracing her face, eyes twinkling with happiness. Tousen's eyes narrowed as he gazed at the picture of his late wife. She had been taken away from him, only but a fortnight previous. He could still recall the blood, the crimson substance covering her face, neck, and staining her rich, blue dress. He'd had to work late that night, leaving her to fend for herself. The town they lived in was peaceful, free from any conflict or violence. He had been so sure she would be safe. But, then he had come home to find her laying in a pool of her own blood, her once bright eyes dull, and lifeless as they stared up at him.
Fingers curled around the small picture, throwing it against the opposite wall of the carriage in a fit of rage. The small, gold frame bounced off of the black wall, and onto the red, cushioned seat across from him. Tousen glared down at it, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. They had never found the one who murdered her. But he knew who'd done it. Ever since they set up camp on the outskirts of town, there had been an increased number of incidents. It had to be because of them. However, without concrete evidence, the judicial court would not prosecute them. Leaving the band of miscreants free to kill again. Tousen shook his head. No, he wouldn't allow that. If the courts wouldn't uphold justice, then he would find a way to do so himself. Sighing, he ran a hand through his long hair, wincing as his fingers got caught in tangles. Taking one last glance out at the night sky, Tousen shut the red, velvet curtains with a flick of his wrist before settling down to rest. It was a difficult task with how the carriage rocked, and bumped along the dirt roads, but soon enough he had fallen into the darkness.
When he opened his eyes again, the carriage had stopped. Glancing towards the window, Tousen had to squint because of the sunlight that filtered in through the gap in the curtains. Sitting up straight, he ran his hands over his face, groaning in discomfort at the stiffness in his back. Yawning, he moved aside one of the curtains to look outside. It didn't take long for him to realize that they had made it to his destination. Tossing open the door for the carriage, Tousen hurriedly jumped down from it, sending dirt up in a dust cloud around him. Dusting off his britches, and straightening the collar of his vest, he made his way down the road, glancing fleetingly at the passing buildings. He barely took note of the driver calling out to him, only giving a wave of his hand in response. Around him, villagers meandered around the streets, their gazes wary as he passed. Tousen's eyes narrowed as he continued his trek, lips pulled into a thin line in his determination. He had to find it. He'd heard rumors of a mysterious caravan that was said to house a man who dabbled in the Dark Arts. He could give you anything you wanted, but it always came at a price. A small price for Tousen. Gaining what he needed to get revenge for his wife's murder was worth any price.
Turning down a dark alley, a cold shiver went down his spine. Even though the sun was high in the sky, the entire area was shrouded in shadows. A few stray, drunken men stumbled through the area, leaning heavily against the brick buildings on either side. Skirting around them, Tousen pressed further, nose wrinkling in distaste at the vile stench that seemed to permeate from the air around him. Covering his mouth with his hand, he leaned against the wall once he came to a small opening, dark eyes glancing around frantically before landing on the jet black caravan situated in the small area. A midnight black horse stood next to it, tossing it's head as it snorted, it's hooves stomping frantically against the ground. Taking a deep breath, Tousen pushed away from the wall, making slow, steady steps towards the caravan. As he got closer, the horse began to still, it's beady eyes following him as he stepped up to the door. Before he could reach a hand up to knock, the door flung open, revealing a tall man in dark purple and black robes. The man's dark brown eyes narrowed as they landed on him, making Tousen take a step back. The man leaned in the doorway, hands tucked into the sleeves of his robes as he regarded Tousen with a raised brown eyebrow. After a moment, a smirk quirked onto his thin lips as he ran a hand through his hair, leaving one small strand to hang in his face.
"Are you mute?" The brunette questioned in an amused, deep baritone.
"E-Excuse me?" Tousen stuttered, his voice coming out in only a whisper as he straightened to his full height. A deep, rolling laughter sounded from the other man, his eyes gleaming with sadistic mirth as he shook his head.
"You're the one on my doorstep, and yet you've done nothing, but stare at me," the brunette chuckled before ushering Tousen towards the door.
"I'm sorry sir. Perhaps you could help me? I'm looking for-," Tousen began to answer as he made his way up the steps of the caravan, but the other male stopped him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Tousen glanced around the inside of the building, flinching slightly when the door was closed with a defining thud.
"I know why you're here, the question is do you?" Tousen gazed at the man incredulously as he moved to take a seat behind a small, worn table. Of course he knew why he was there! What kind of question was that? Brown eyes regarded him in amusement, as the man laced his fingers together, elbows propped up on the table.
"Are you not Aizen? Don't people come to you with their wishes? I'm quite sure I know why I'm here," Tousen hissed, crossing his arms over his chest. The brunette chuckled softly before leaning back in his chair.
"Very well then, if you're so sure of yourself, shall we get down to business?" Aizen asked, waving a hand towards the chair set across from him. Tousen hesitated only a minute, unnerved by the dark gleam in those brown eyes, before hastily taking the offered seat. A crooked smile graced Aizen's lips as he shuffled through the small pile of papers at the side of the table, grabbing a blank sheet of parchment. "Now before I can work my magic, we have to get the contract out of the way," he murmured, plucking a gray quill out of the ink well next to him.
"Contract?" Tousen questioned warily, an eyebrow raised in confusion. Aizen merely nodded, placing the tip of the quill above the center of the parchment. Tousen watched with bated breath as Aizen tapped the quill with his finger, a small droplet of ink falling down onto the page. Once the black ink hit the page it began to move, creating swirls and harsh lines. In less than a minute, the page was covered with words, written in smooth, flowing cursive. Tousen eyed the page, eyes wide in shock. What sort of magic was this?
"My gifts don't come without a price. This is just to ensure that I get my payment," Aizen explained, holding out the quill. Tousen eyed the pen warily for a brief moment before reaching out to take it. The feather felt smooth as silk under his fingers as he lowered in towards the page. His eyes gleamed with determination. All he had to do was sign, and then he would make them suffer. However, before he could scratch his name onto the parchment, long fingers curled around his wrist, preventing him from moving. Glancing up, he met the dark eyes of the brunette. "Wouldn't you like to hear the terms of the contract before you go signing anything?" Aizen questioned, tilting his head to the side, as his fingers tightened around Tousen's wrist. Reaching his free hand into his vest, Tousen pulled out a small, violet pouch tied together by a small, silver rope.
"I have plenty of gold to pay you," he snapped, tossing the pouch onto the table. Gold coins spilled from it, clattering onto the worn wood. Across from him, Aizen let out a small chuckle, releasing his wrist. Placing his own hands in the sleeves of his robes, the brunette shook his head.
"What is sacrificed must equal what is given. Immortality is no small thing, not something a few gold coins could pay for," Aizen explained, rising from his chair, his robes billowing out around him as he paced the small caravan. Twisting in his seat, Tousen watched him move, the quill hanging limp from his fingers.
"What sort of sacrifice do you require then?" Tousen questioned, eying the brunette's back. He watched Aizen lift a small wooden stick towards a candle, lighting the tip of it. At his question, a devious smirk curled onto Aizen's lips, his eyes gleaming dangerously in triumph. Silence wrapped around the small space as Aizen lifted the stick towards a set of five black candles, lighting them before letting the wood burn out.
"What I require is something that's important to you. Something you rely on the most," the brunette murmured, turning to face Tousen, his expression set in a warm smile. Walking over to him, Aizen curled his hands around his shoulders, leaning down to whisper harshly into his ear, "What I require is your eyesight."
The mayor leaned back in his chair, fixing the cuffs of his white dress shirt as he eyed the man standing before his desk. Tousen didn't move, his face blank of all emotion, lips pressed into a hard line. Aizen's gaze trailed to the knife at Tousen's side, a flicker of amusement shining in his brown eyes. One would think that as time went on the man would have upgraded his weapon of choice, but he still used the same knife he had all those years ago. A small smirk quirked onto the brunette's lips as he loosened the crimson tie around his neck.
"What can I do for you my dear friend?" Aizen questioned, crossing one of his legs over the other. Tousen's boots thundered against the wooden floor as he moved around the desk to stand at the mayor's side. Placing a hand down onto the desk, he leaned over the piece of furniture, his long hair falling into his face. Aizen gazed at the hand in front of him, taking note of the small, diamond cross that hung from a silver chain. He remembered that charm, Tousen had showed it to him the night they first met, claiming it would always remind him of his goal. It had been his wife's before she was taken from this world. Even though it was years old, the gem still sparkled as if it was brand new.
"I'm closing in on him," Tousen's gravely voice broke Aizen from his memories, and he lifted his gaze to stare at the other man. He could see his reflection in the black shades that covered Tousen's eyes and Aizen couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. People will give away anything to get what they desire most. After a moment, the mayor quirked an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Him?" The brunette questioned, running a hand through his hair. He knew exactly who Tousen was talking about, since it was him who told the man who he was to seek in order to get his revenge. In all actuality, it had been a rogue band of vampires that had killed the man's wife. Shirosaki had done nothing wrong, except to cross his path. The pale vampire knew too much, was capable of too much to be left alive. And, now with the orange haired gypsy at his side, he needed to be stopped. Aizen glanced at the gold chain that lay on top of a small, cherry wood box where he kept his most prized amulet. When the chain had been delivered to him, it didn't take him long to recognize the work of the gypsies. The small strings of gold had been cast into an intricate braid, an art known only to them. It was a shame that the amulet hadn't been retrieved as well. Without it, there was no telling what sort of magic the young orange head was capable of. After delving further into the chain, he'd also come along another slight snag. It seemed that the young mortal had immortal blood, albeit diluted to the point of being nearly undetectable, it was still there. This young mortal was a threat to him by just being alive, something Tousen would soon rectify.
"Why must I keep the mortal alive? It would be much easier to kill him. Shirosaki's anger would blind him, and destroy him," Tousen mumbled, his tone dark as he made his way around the mayor's chair. Aizen only smirked, resting his chin on his hand as he let his eyes follow the other male's movements. Tousen had a valid point. Shirosaki's anger would be his down fall, but he wanted to study the mortal. The vampire blood in the orange haired human's system was old, ancient, meaning their was a good chance he was connected to one of the old clans. Each vampire clan held a different power, and if the mortal's was something useful, he could always make him into one of his slaves. To control a vampire's power would be just the edge he needed to gain his wish, his darkest desire.
"There's more to the young man than meets the eye. It would be best to get to know our soon to be prisoner before we go killing them, don't you think?" Aizen questioned, his voice laced with cruel laughter as he narrowed his eyes. He watched Tousen stiffen, shoulder's squaring as a tremble racked through his body. Small beads of sweat ran down his neck as he clenched his hands into fists.
"Very well sir," Tousen gasped out, his voice cracking in pain as he grit his teeth. Sighing, Aizen lowered his gaze, smirking as the other man let out a relieved breath. Tracing his nails over the papers on his desk, the mayor's eyes darkened. He could feel the hesitation rolling off of the other man in waves, something that he wouldn't stand for.
"You will follow through with what we have planned. You stray even the smallest bit from the plan, and I will destroy Shirosaki myself. You don't want that do you? Wouldn't you rather be the one to finish him off? To feel the life leaving his body as his blood flows from him in warm rivers?" Aizen questioned darkly, rising from his seat slowly. He kept his gaze on Tousen as he moved towards the bookshelf off to the side of the room. Picking up a small picture frame, he made his way towards the darker skinned man. Taking Tousen's hand, he placed the frame into his hand, closing his fingers tightly around it. "You do want to avenger her don't you? Or would you rather she died in vain?" He hissed into the other's ear. At his words, the other visibly stiffened, his arms shaking with suppressed rage, though he remained silent. "No of course you don't. I've given you the strength, the immortality, and the knowledge you need to accomplish this task. But, it's be your will that avenges her," Aizen murmured softly, his free hand curling around Tousen's shoulder, nails scrapping along the exposed skin at his collar.
Tousen stood frozen, unable to do anything but tremble under the mayor's strength. When he'd first met the man all those years ago, he had known he was powerful, but Aizen only let one see as much as he wanted them to. After he had formed the contract, sealing his fate with a drop of his blood, Tousen had soon realized that Aizen could control him. He could feel the power rolling off of the brunette in waves. His was the only face Tousen could remember, as if it had been burned directly into his brain. All his other memories had faded away, until he was left with nothing but darkness. And, day after day, he told himself it was a small price to pay to make sure his wife didn't die in vain.
"Do I make myself clear?" Aizen's voice sounded farther away, making Tousen shake his head. He hadn't realized the mayor had move. The atmosphere around the room was electric, a warning of what was to come if he disobeyed. Swallowing thickly, Tousen bowed his head.
"You have my word sir," he mumbled, clenching his jaw. What had he gotten himself into?
Shirosaki stared out the window in Ichigo's bedroom, his mouth set into a hard line as he clenched the mug in his hands. Glancing down at the steaming, brown liquid, he let out a sigh. Silver bangs fell into his eyes as he bowed his head, resting it against the cool pane of glass. His eyes darted to the reflection of the large bed set behind him, gaze trained on the lump in the middle of the mattress. It had been several hours since Ichigo had passed out. He'd had Grimmjow move the orange head back to his home after Szayel had run some tests and proclaimed his stats to be normal. Now, the teal haired vampire sat out in the living room along with Ulquiorra. Both had been afraid to leave Shirosaki alone with the orange head in case Ichigo were to wake up and have another attack. The two had left Shirosaki be, only staying close enough to act if needed. Ulquiorra had come in just a few minutes prior, handing him a steaming cup of coffee, and to check on Ichigo's condition. Nothing had changed. The human whimpered softly in his sleep, twitching every now and then, but there had been no indication of him going off the deep end again.
Turning around the pale vampire leaned against the window sill, bringing the mug to his lips. The hot liquid burned as it slid down his throat, slowly warming him from the inside out. Gold eyes shone brightly through the dark room, narrowing slightly when a groan sounded from the bed, a tan hand stretching out as the orange head let out a yawn. Shirosaki was next to the bed in less time than it took to blink, gently placing the cup onto the nightstand next to him, before placing his hands on the edge of the bed. Black nails dug into the mattress as he leaned over the bright shock of orange hair to get a better look at Ichigo's face. Shirosaki watched as the human's eyes scrunched together, nose wrinkling cutely before sleepy, brown eyes peaked open. Slowly, Ichigo's head turned towards him, bringing his hands up to rub the blurriness in his eyes. Once he was finished, he let his arms fall back onto the blankets with a soft plop, letting out a long breath.
"How do you feel?" Shirosaki questioned, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Bringing black nailed fingers up, he brushed orange bangs out or shimmering brown eyes.
"I feel like someone took a sledge hammer to my head," Ichigo groaned, rising up onto his elbows. Shirosaki stiffened, nervous to have Ichigo move even just the smallest amount. He watched the orange head run a hand through his hair, as he gazed around the room. "Do I even want to ask how I got here?" Ichigo mumbled grumpily, turning his gaze to bore into Shirosaki's. An orange eyebrow raised in question when the vampire hung his head, shoulders slumping.
"You don't remember?" Shirosaki questioned, tilting his head to the side so part of his features remained in shadow. Ichigo shivered at how sinister it made the vampire look, but once he looked into those pained golden orbs, the thought was quickly pushed from his mind.
"I-I don't know how I got here from the club, but I'm guessing I feel asleep. I had the weirdest dream," Ichigo whispered, trailing off some as he thought back on his dream. Where had that woman come from? Was she important? Ulquiorra was there too, but what part did he play in the whole thing?
"What dream?" Ichigo jumped at the nearly frantic tone the silver haired vampire used, turning wide brown eyes on the other. Shirosaki leaned over him, his hands placed firmly on either side of his waist as gold eyes pinned him in place. He gulped at the fire flickering in those orbs, long fingers curling into the sheets wrapped around his middle. Lowering his gaze towards the bed, Ichigo chewed on his lower lip. Where should he start? His thoughts were so jumbled that he couldn't make heads or tails of anything. If only the constant throbbing in his head would subside enough for him to think straight.
"Hey." Ichigo flinched at the soft voice, as cool fingers curled around his chin, forcing him to lift his gaze. The orange head's breath hitched as he stared into Shirosaki's eyes, the golden orbs shining in the darkness. Ichigo could feel his body relaxing, numbing until the pounding in his head dispersed. Taking a deep breath, the human let it out shakily, closing his eyes.
"It's all so fuzzy, but I remember the name Amira," Ichigo mumbled, his voice wispy. He was dazed, a dense fog wrapping around his mind. He missed the way Shirosaki's eyes darkened, narrowing into small slits as his grip tightened around the human's chin. A cold shiver ran through the vampire at the name, forcing him to clench his jaw before he lashed out. He'd only heard that name once before, uttered softly from Ulquiorra's lips nearly a century ago. Releasing Ichigo's chin, Shirosaki slowly rose from the bed, his hands placed behind his back as he tentatively made his way towards the door. Resting his hand on the door knob, he turned to glance back at Ichigo, a soft expression taking over his face at the confused look he received.
"We'll talk more once you've had a chance to shower and get dressed. Take your time, and once your done we'll be waiting in the living room," Shirosaki ordered softly, giving the human a small smile before leaving the room.
Ichigo stared at the spot Shirosaki had been standing, his back stiffening as the sound of the door closing rang in his ears. It took a few minutes for the silver haired vampire's words to sink in, making his brows furrow in confusion. We? Who exactly was in his apartment? Moving towards the edge of the bed, Ichigo swung his legs out to rest his feet on the floor. Taking a deep breath, he stood up, bracing himself against his nightstand as his legs wobbled. He felt weak, something he didn't have time to deal with at the moment. He wanted answers. Something big was going on, and he wasn't going to get anywhere by laying in bed. Gritting his teeth, he slowly made his way towards the bathroom, leaning heavily against the walls as a brace to keep standing.
Nnoitra leaned against the bar, glaring down at the shot of whiskey before him. Long fingers curled around the glass, bringing it up to his lips. Tilting his head back, he downed the shot, slamming the now empty glass back onto the counter. Turning to gaze out at his surroundings, a scowl formed onto his lips. Los Noches. The place was a cesspool, a place hardened criminals, drug lords, and gang members frequented. It was here that he had been told to meet his informant. Nose crinkling in disgust, he waved his hand towards the shady bartender, who refilled his glass without uttering a word. Leaning his elbows against the bar, Nnoitra slid onto one of the bar stools. He had been waiting for nearly an hour. Where the fuck was this guy? At that moment, a small woman stepped up to his side, dressed in a frilly, black dress. A black ribbon wrapped around her neck, a small silver cross hanging from it.
"Hello Nnoitra," she stated, turning large, violet eyes on him. A piano like grin spread onto the tall vampire's face as he rose to tower over the petite girl.
"Rukia Kuchiki, so you're the one I'm supposed to meet," he answered back, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Rukia only gazed at him with an emotionless mask, clutching a small, stuffed rabbit to her chest. After a moment, she turned on her heel, glancing back at Nnoitra over her shoulder.
"Follow me," she ordered before making her way through the mass of drunken scum towards the back. Nnoitra followed her through a closed door, glancing at the two large men dressed in all black that stood on either side of it, arms crossed, and black sunglasses hiding their eyes. One of the men turned towards him, a crooked smirk curling onto his lips before he turned his attention back to the front. Once they entered the room, Rukia moved to take a seat next to a slim, raven haired male whose eyes regarded Nnoitra coldly. On his other side sat a fiery redhead that Nnoitra new quite well. What caught his attention the most was the other men in the room. One leaned against the door they had just entered, the tattoo on his left cheek a dead giveaway. The last man leaned against the wall behind the trio that sat at the table. This one had short silver hair, and hardened brown eyes. The man scowled, crossing his arms over his chest as he glared past Nnoitra at the wall.
"Nnoitra, please take a seat," Rukia's commanding voice forced the raven haired vampire from his observation, and he quickly took the chair presented to him. Once he was seated, Rukia turned to the man next to her. "I'm sure you know my brother Byakuya, and his assistant Renji," She stated motioning to each man in turn.
"Yeah, and I know that one too," Nnoitra responded, jabbing a thumb back towards the man leaning against the door.
"That doesn't surprise me. Renji's always draggin Hisagi to the club," the silver haired man spoke, pushing away from the wall and stepping towards the table. Planting his hands firmly on the table, he sent a smirk towards the flustered redhead. Byakuya glanced at Renji, quickly making the red haired vampire compose himself.
"Kensei, you would do well not to rile up my subordinates," the stoic raven haired vampire commanded, turning an icy stare on the other man.
"I'm just messing with 'im!" Kensei exclaimed, tsking as he he leaned against the table. Byakuya said nothing, instead turning his gaze back on Nnoitra who had remained silent through the encounter.
"I understand that you are in need of my services," Byakuya stated, lifting a white tea cup to his lips. A finely trimmed eyebrow quirked upwards as he took a small sip before placing the cup back onto the saucer. Nnoitra leaned back in his chair, a sinister grin spreading across his face.
"Yeah, I have someone I wanna get revenge on, and I was told to get in contact with ya. Honestly I didn't expect ta be meetin with ya personally, but it's better this way, ne?" The lanky vampire responded, inclining his head to the side. Closing his eyes, Byakuya turned his head to the side, letting out a small huff. This action made Nnoitra roll his one good eye. Nobles were always a stickler for manners.
"I suppose it is better. Kensei and Hisagi will assist you with what you need done. Both are highly trained killers, there's hardly a vampire out there that can stand up to them," Byakuya answered after a moment of silence. Nnoitra let out a cackle as his words, shaking his head.
"What if I'm not after a vampire?" He asked, sneering slightly, his eye gleaming dangerously.
"Then what may I ask are you searching for?" Rukia questioned, straightening in her seat. She shot the other vampire an incredulous expression, her lips pulled down into a frown.
"I'll let ya know when I find out for myself," Nnoitra responded, toying with a strand on his hair. Across from him, three eyebrows raised in question, making him laugh heartily. Messing with nobles could be so much fun.