Hello dear reader! Sorry it took me so long to post this, and as it turns out, I still had to turn the chapter into two separate one, because it was getting too long! Most of the emotional stuff will in the next chapter, which shouldn't take nearly as long as this one, since it's almost completely written. Enjoy! Peace, TK

Chapter 38 Wieder Zusammen

"Yes, I know it's going to happen.
I can feel you getting near.
And if you wake up wondering,
In the darkness, I'll be there.
My arms will close around you
And protect you with the truth.
I know you're out there somewhere."

I Know You're Out There Somewhere
Justin Hayward

"Wow, this is, uh, some place he's got," Ikkaku noted, sounding more observational than awed as he and Dunkip entered the Orator's main reception hall.

Dunkip gave a cheeky grin. "This is only the entrance. You haven't seen anything yet. The Regent may be more powerful, but I don't think anyone beats Nelphune when it comes to flamboyance. Wait 'til you see him."

Ikkaku took careful note of his surroundings. Even the smallest detail might become of crucial import in the days to come. Doors, windows, passageways, guard posts . . . these were all items that could end up playing a role in Yumichika's deliverance.

But on top of such pragmatic considerations, Ikkaku was struck with the opulence of the place - and the fact that it was a more ostentatious show of the same sort of glaring over-indulgence and self-love that had often been a part of Yumichika's presentation. Everywhere were indications of a man who loved to surround himself with beautiful things – from the polished mai stein floors and columns to the luxurious silks and brocades that hung along the walls, to the crystal and alabaster candle sconces. From the fair faces and perfect figures of his house servants to the brilliance and uncontested finery of his house guard. It was clear that Nelphune valued beauty above all.

Little wonder he had purchased Yumichika.

Ikkaku noticed a tall, thin man standing at the arched doorway leading from the reception hall into the corridor that led to the festival hall. He had an authoritative air about him and a certain expression of perpetual boredom.

"Who's that by the door?" Ikkaku asked.

"That's ki-Zibell," Dunkip replied. "We usually just call him Zibell. He's the chief of staff for the Orator's household."

Ikkaku studied him for several seconds. "Is he a good man?"

Dunkip chuckled. "Good . . . by Gonow standards?"

"By your standards," Ikkaku replied.

"Good enough, I suppose," Dunkip answered. "I've known better, and I've known worse. He's one hundred percent loyal to the Orator, and I've never seen him be cruel. Of course, the members of this household might say differently."

"He looks bored out of his mind," Ikkaku remarked.

"He always looks like that," Dunkip explained. "He doesn't let anything get to him. Captain Hlayma likes him very much."

"I guess that's saying something," Ikkaku said. "I respect the captain's judgment."

"As well you should. Come on, let's go inside. Kennah will be coming through in a few seconds, and we need to go make sure his alcove is safe."

"Are you expecting trouble?" Ikkaku asked.

"Where the Regent is concerned, we're always prepared for trouble," Dunkip stated. "We've already told you that the Regent has enemies. You never know when they'll show up."

They entered the great hall, festooned with strands of candle-lit different colored orbs draped from the ceiling, bright transculent streamers of blue and green and gold dangling and twisting gently in the moving air, like ethereal dancers high above the floor. There was music – a sort of lilting, exotic thing that immediately recalled to Ikkaku's mind Yumichika's dance at Imakao's.

The hall was clearly designed for dancing and mingling and performing, with a fair-sized stage at one end, painted with a permanent backdrop of a desert scene, over which sheers hung which depicted a deep forest filled with many animals. The musicians were upon the stage, blending into a background which was meant to ensure nothing competed with the room's main attraction.

And that attraction sat in full glory in a raised alcove set back into the wall opposite the entrance from the reception hall.

The nook in which Nelphune's party sat was perhaps fifteen feet above the floor, broad and deep, reachable via a set of stunning black onyx steps carved with images of swans. Two tremendous black swan figures were cut from simian stone and stood overlooking the staircase like sentries, admitting only the worthy into the presence of the master of the house. Nelphune's lounge of pillows and furs was arrayed close to the front of the alcove, from which he could look down upon his guests and see their awed expressions as they took in his magnificence.

And magnificent, he was.

Ikkaku could not remember when he had last beheld a figure so regal and so wanton; so cocksure and yet so magnetic; sensual and alluring in a way that would have been frightening, had it not been so intoxicating. Unlike Yumichika—whose attraction has been purely seductive—Nelphune's fascination felt like warm indifference, a sense that the great man could have whatever he wanted, but that he wanted nothing. Even across the distance, Ikkaku could feel the man's pull, and it was much more dangerous than the pull Yumichika had exhibited – although the Orator seemed much better in control both of his enticements, as well as his response to those who would desire more than a mere ogle. Whereas Yumichika had been uncertain—even unaware—of his allure, it was clear that Nelphune was his own master.

Here was a giant.

And Ikkaku could not understand how it was possible that Kennah was powerful than the man he was now beholding.

"Snap out of it."

Dunkip's voice in his ear drew him out of his reverie, and he turned his head sharply, as if abruptly waking from a dream.

"Damn . . . " Ikkaku could hardly believe he'd been so mesmerized.

"Don't let it bother you," Dunkip said, as a manner of excusal. "It's happened to all of us. Even when he's not trying, we can all feel it. Just hope that he doesn't turn it on you on purpose."

Ikkaku's head was clearing. "I knew someone once who was just like that—well, not as strong, but he could draw you in and make you act like . . . in ways you didn't want to."

"Well, that's the Orator, for sure," Dunkip replied. "The stuff that goes on in his house . . . "

Ikkaku tried not to seem too anxious. "Like what?"

"Oh . . . he's got a penchant for . . . well, he does interesting things with his bedmates," Dunkip stated. "Things that, under any other circumstance, would amount to torture. But his bedmates love it. They compete for the chance to be . . . degraded in the most humiliating ways. It's all part of Nelphune's allure. I don't get it, but . . . I'm not a bedmate."

Ikkaku's attention was riveted. "But if he's able to make his bedmates want that, could he make you—or me or Captain Hlayma or anyone else—want it?"

"I'm sure he could," Dunkip answered. "But I don't think he'd ever look beyond his own bedmates. He's happy with what he's got. I'm sure the idea of bedding me or the captain is nowhere on his mind. The only person who means anything to him is Campion, and he would never do anything to him." He paused, as at that moment, Nelphune rose from where he'd been laying and stared with purpose across the hall. Ikkaku and Dunkip turned, then the lieutenant said with a smile, "Speaking of which . . . "

Captain Campion had just entered the hall ahead of the Regent. Without a word, without diverting his gaze, he headed directly for the alcove. At the same time, Nelphune descended the steps and held out his arm. Campion approached, stopping just short of his master and rendering a shallow bow. But such a gesture mightaswell have been invisible to Nelphune, who closed the small space between them and, placing his palm against Campion's cheek, drew him in until their foreheads were pressed together.

"Looks like the Orator missed him," Ikkaku remarked.

"I think they missed each other," Dunkip replied. "But come on. We have to hurry. If Campion is here, that means Kennah isn't far behind, and we have to check out his space before he arrives or pay the consequences."

As they made their way to the alcove reserved for the Regent, Ikkaku wondered out loud, "I'm surprised Kennah brought Campion with him. Isn't he worried that he might not come back?"

"Obviously not. Look, Campion will do whatever Nelphune tells him," Dunkip replied. "And I don't think Nelphune's about to go back on his deal. No, the Regent brought Campion to rub it in Nelphune's face."

"That's not true, is it? I'd think Kennah would be more cautious than that," Ikkaku said. "He doesn't want to piss Nelphune off, does he?"

"Maybe a little. There's always been a rivalry between the two, although in the end, there's no contest. Kennah is just too powerful. But the chance to abuse Campion in front of Nelphune is just too rare an opportunity for Kennah to pass up."

Now, Ikkaku felt a brief flurry of concern. "He wouldn't dare."

"The hell he wouldn't," Dunkip chirped. "But he'll keep it just within tolerance. Otherwise, it's the end of the lower east. If the two of them ever went at it, Kennah would win, but everything would be destroyed in the process."

"How is that possible? Are they that powerful?"

"They are."

Ikkaku got the idea that Dunkip was not disclosing everything he knew, but how wise was it to inquire?

"From what I've heard about Campion, I don't think he'd let the Regent use him like that," he posited. "Would Kennah really think about hurting him?"

"I didn't say he'd hurt him," Dunkip replied. "But I wouldn't be surprised if he makes Campion wait on him hand and foot, treats him like a menial servant . . . all to get under Nelphune's skin."

A mischievous smile, like a crooked wrinkle, appeared on Ikkaku's lips. "Maybe I can spare the good captain any unwanted attention."

Dunkip turned a curious eye to him. "What are you on about?"

"Looks like this may be my chance to finally talk to the elusive Captain Campion," Ikkaku said, the wrinkle turning into a quirky beam.

Dunkip shook his head. "You really never do give up, do you?"

Minutes later, Regent Kennah entered with a sizeable entourage and was shown by Zibell to his alcove, although he needed no escort, for he always had the same spot year after year. After settling in and surrounding himself with a contingent that included at least a dozen bedmates—Yiowue foremost among them—Kennah raised his voice in irritation.

"Creega!"

The head bidder for the Regent's household cringed at the sound of his master's voice. He turned with affected mildness. "Yes, my Lord?"

"Go remind Campion that he's part of my household now, and that he needs to get over here and perform his duties . . . unless he's looking for trouble."

Creega was tempted to suggest that such a task would be better suited and more appropriately assigned to Captain Hlayma. But then he thought about how fortunate he'd been not to have to pull duty at Opal Diem, which had left him free to enjoy the religious festival on his own terms, and he nodded once in acquiescence. He made his way from Kennah's alcove and headed for Nelphune's respite, where the Orator was still speaking with Campion, although they were both now at the top of the steps.

"I hate to interrupt, Orator Nelphune, but the Lord Regent wants his . . . guest, Captain Campion, to join him in his own alcove." Creega could barely hide the embarrassment from his voice.

Nelphune was pleasant. "Of course. I will send him shortly."

This was good enough for Creega, who left without another word.

"One more week," Nelphune said softly, leaning close to Campion, as if he were imparting a secret. "One more week, and you will be back with me."

"Then you've been successful in drawing out Yumichika's Atmen?" Campion asked.

"It is close," Nelphune replied, but Campion knew the spirit well enough to discern the lie in his voice.

"I can belong to the Regent for as long as it takes—" he began, but Nelphune cut him off, almost angrilly.

"You do not belong to him! You belong to me," he said emphatically. "And I would never leave you with him any longer than absolutely necessary."

Campion was silent for a moment, then he said in a grave voice. "Just don't do anything stupid."

"You should take the same advice," Nelphune replied.

Campion was stone-faced. "I've learned my lesson about stupid mistakes." With that, he headed over to Kennah's alcove.

Standing at the edge of the alcove, watching him approach, Ikkaku saw his opportunity drawing near. He stood by silently as Campion came up the steps and did not speak as he walked past into the alcove. He barely managed to keep his attention focused outward over the crowd as he heard bits and snatches of the Regent's voice, interspersed with the voices of Campion and Hlayma. He could tell Campion was not pleased with whatever was being said.

A moment later, Campion walked down the steps and crossed the room, where Ikkaku lost sight of him in the crowd.

Ikkaku turned as Dunkip joined him. "Where did Campion go?"

"To pull duty watching over the upper rooms," Dunkip replied. "This is his territory, so he's familiar with it. But Kennah sent him to watch over his bedmates, not the Orator's. Not that it matters. Campion hates that kind of work, no matter whose bedmates are involved." He nodded at the top of the balustrade in the north-facing wall. "There he is. Those are where the rooms are."

Ikkaku stood in thoughtful contemplation for several seconds, then he asked, "So, how do they decide who gets to go in there?"

Dunkip simpered and teased. "Why? Are you thinking you might like a turn?"

Ikkaku inclined his head in a non-committal manner.

Now, Dunkip's expression went to one of surprise. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah," Ikkaku replied. "How do they decide?"

"I didn't peg you for that type, Harsho," Dunkip said, narrowing his eyes.

"I'm not any type," Ikkaku stated. "I just want to know how they decide who gets to go in there."

After a hesitation during which Dunkip apparently decided his companion was asking in earnest, he replied, "Money. Most of the time. Sometimes, if you do something great or have something else to offer, you can squeeze in. But it's usually who can pay the most."

Ikkaku nodded slowly.

"Don't tell me you're really thinking about it," Dunkip asked incredulously.

"I might be," he replied. "If I see something worth my while."

Yumichika stood up. Yilma and Ulfa turned him towards his reflection in the full-length mirror. Yumichika could only frown and wish the night were over instead of only just beginning. Damir had gone to manage the upper rooms only fifteen minutes ago, but that had been more than enough time for him to work his hand and transform Yumichika once again into a gaudy, made-up fop bedecked with jewels on his hands and feet and woven into his hair, adorned in a see-through floor-length gown that had a train worthy of royalty and requiring two attendants to handle it.

"Ya ready ta make ya' appearance?" Ulfa asked.

Yumichika nodded once. "Yes."

"Don't look so sour," Yilma chastised. "You'll be back up here soon."

Yumichika scowled. "Yes, to start servicing guests. How is that better than being paraded around on Nelphune's arm?"

"Cuz what 'appens in the dark is better n' what happens in the light," Ulfa grinned.

Yumichika did not return her light humor. "There's nothing but darkness here."

Officially, it was called 'making the rounds.' For Ikkaku, it was a chance to absorb as much detail as possible on the pretense of keeping an eye out for any potential threat to the Regent. He'd been walking among the guests, Rasce at his side – a good companion with a natural flare for conversation and a sharp wit that Ikkaku found helpful, for it took his mind off the danger of his covert mission.

At length, they made their way up the stairway to the upper rooms, which were already as busy as a beehive on the first flowering day of spring.

"It's like a train station up here," Ikkaku remarked. "How many bedmates are in those rooms?"

"Oh, a couple hundred, I guess," Rasce replied, sounding disinterested.

"Damn, that's a lot of sex going on," Ikkaku said, trying his best not to sound as disgusted as he felt.

"Well, there's a lot of guests," Rasce shrugged. "Some of the bedmates will see a dozen men or more before the night is over."

"And most of them are Nelphune's?"

"Most," Rasce nodded. "The Orator brought a number of his. I'm sure some of the others brought a few, as well. But the Orator has over two hundred bedmates of his own, although I'm sure not all of them are available tonight. See that man there? That's Damir. He's the head of Nelphune's bedmates. Look at him, acting all self-important. He's nothing but a gate guard."

"A gate guard? What does that mean?" Ikkaku asked.

"It means he's in charge of scheduling the bedmates. Him and the two guys there with him. Damir only handles the elites. The other two do the scheduling for all the lesser bedmates," Rasce explained. "Thank God I've got a woman of my own that I don't need to do this sort of thing."

Standing several yards past where Damir sat with his papers and plume was Captain Campion, in precisely the same place he had taken up since going up to the rooms thirty minutes ago.

This was as good a chance as any.

"Rasce, why don't you go on and I'll catch up with you shortly," Ikkaku suggested.

"Why? What are you—" Rasce cut himself off when he noticed his companion's gaze fixed in Campion's direction. "Okay, fine, but don't make a fool of yourself. While you're sizing him up, don't size yourself right out of a job. Kennah will have you flayed if you cause any disturbances."

"I won't cause any problem," Ikkaku replied. "I just want to meet him. Can you blame me? After all the talk I've heard about him, I'm curious."

"Well, Captain Campion isn't much for small talk, so . . . don't press your luck."

Ikkaku waited a few seconds as Rasce moved on past Campion and down the corridor containing the rooms which hosted Kennah's bedmates. When he was sure Rasce was too far away to hear, he drew in a deep breath, steeled his resolve, and approached the man whose name had become a taunt and a tantalization.

"Captain Campion." Ikkaku said the words with firmness, like a greeting that could not be ignored.

The captain gave a minute nod and after a moment's recollection, acknowledged him. "Otomaki, isn't it?"

"Yes, Harsho Otomaki," Ikkaku replied.

"I've seen you a bit at the Regent's estate," Campion said, and neither his voice nor his manner were what Ikkaku was expecting. There was nothing cold or condescending, although it was clear the captain was being guarded in his expression, probably doing as much assessing of his new acquaintance as Ikkaku was doing of him. "Captain Hlayma's newest officer."

"Yes," Ikkaku said, pleased that Campion knew his name – or, his fake name, as it were. "I just wanted to introduce myself. I've heard a lot about you."

Campion permitted a slight grin. "I've heard a lot about you."

Ikkaku feigned embarrassment, which did not come easy to him. "All good, I hope."

"All good," Campion replied. "You came from the west?"

"That's right."

Campion was still smiling. "What brings a man of the west to Gonow?"

"The same thing that brought you," Ikkaku replied, feeling a sense of smugness. The captain was fishing for background, but he was not going to get the better of Ikkaku Madarame.

A fleeting shadow glanced across Campion's face. "I doubt that very much."

Ikkaku let it pass. He had other more pressing matters to try and weed out.

"Captain Hlayma said you're the head of Orator Nelphune's house guard, just visiting with us for a few weeks," he began. "I'm curious . . . what's he like?"

"Who?"

"The Orator. What's he like? What's it like working for him?"

"Are you interesting in working for him?" Campion asked. "Has working for the Regent already turned you off?"

"No, no, not at all," Ikkaku replied. "Like I said . . . I'm just curious. He seems like a very interesting man."

"Interesting doesn't even begin to cover it," Campion replied. "But to answer your question: he's a fair master." A pause. "Now I'll ask you the same. How do you like working in the Regent's household?"

Here was the opening. "I love it," Ikkaku said, being sure to sound enthusiastic but not too much so as to sound childish. "The work is good, the accommodations are superb. Good food. Good pay. And the fringe benefits are the best I could ever hope for." With this, he made a not-so-surreptitious glance down the corridor, his intention clearly being a reference to the bedmates.

At that moment, Campion's demeanor changed, and an unspoken disapproval radiated from his person.

But Ikkaku could not back down now. He had only to remind himself that he was playing a part. Campion's reaction was no different that the reaction he himself felt but could not show.

"I mean, you couldn't ask for better duty than what you're doing right now, huh?" Ikkaku pressed. "Guarding all the bedmates. I guess you can partake any time you please. And Kennah's got some real fine ones to pick from."

"I don't do that," Campion stated flatly. "Men are not my thing."

"Yeah, but there are women, too—" Ikkaku stopped as a satisfied customer passed by them on his way back down to the celebration. "But, uh . . . with all the great bedmates the Regent has, I've heard that the Orator has a bedmate that puts all the others to shame. The other guards couldn't stop talking about him."

Campion's expression was unreadable, stony, emotionless. "Are you referring to Yumichika?"

The blood surged through Ikkaku's veins, and a chill threatened to shiver him and give him away. "Yeah, I think that was the name, something like that. Is it true? Is he as beautiful as they say he is?"

Campion nodded down towards the open festival hall. "Judge for yourself."

Ikkaku turned and looked over the balustrade. Had he not had control of his wits, he might have sprung right over the edge or burst out into shouts of relief and fulfillment.

But instead, he remained silent and observational as his eyes took in the sight of a figure not seen in months, a figure whose face was hidden behind a mask of powder, liquids and make-up, whose body, though covered by the sheerest of garments, was on bold display for all onlookers, whose diminutive stature was blown up to grandiose proportions by the pomp surrounding his entrance.

Ikkaku could sense nothing from him, but that was no surprise. He hadn't been able to feel a thing from him since Ruri'iro Kujaku's demise or disappearance or whatever name was most appropriate to his fate.

From this distance, Ikkaku could only deduce that he moved well. He didn't appear fatigued or injured. He was being handled like a royal diadem, which may or may not turn out to be a good thing, for Ikkaku did not know how much freedom came with such pampering.

"That's him?" Ikkaku asked mildly.

"That's him."

"Hard to tell if he's anything special with all that crap he's wearing," Ikkaku noted nonchalantly.

When Campion did not reply, Ikkaku turned to see the captain eyeing him warily.

How could Campion be suspicious of him? Or was it just Campion's disdain for Harsho's apparent sexual interests? Or solely his interest in one as elite as Yumichika? Either way, Ikkaku had to throw him off the scent.

"Well, it's true, isn't it?" Ikkaku insisted, adopting a silly petulance. "I mean, you can't tell what he looks like. After all I've heard, I was expecting to see a real beauty. Now, I can't say if all the things I've heard were right or wrong."

Campion was still staring at him. "I assure you, he's the most beautiful thing you'll ever see."

Ikkaku looked again at the procession now at the bottom of the Orator's alcove steps. "I'll have to take your word for it."

After a brief gap in the conversation, Campion asked, "Hlayma tells me you're also a former Shinigami."

Ikkaku looked up. "Yeah."

"Why don't you try saying, 'Yes, Sir'?" Campion corrected. "You and I aren't equals. Your tone of familiarity isn't fitting." There was no malice in his voice, but he was clearly exercising his authority.

And under the circumstances, Ikkaku decided an apology—though perhaps not warranted—was the best thing for keeping Campion on his good side, if he'd not already lost him. "I'm sorry, Sir. Habit, I guess. And you know old habits are hard to break."

"I know Captain Hlayma is more relaxed than I am, but it's still necessary to maintain a certain sense of rank and distinction," Campion said.

"I understand, Sir."

Campion returned to the original topic. "What squad were you in?"

"Squad Thirteen," Ikkaku lied.

"Captain Ukitake?"

Ikkaku nodded.

"He's been there forever," Campion noted. "Good man."

"Yes, he is a good man and a good captain," Ikkaku agreed.

"So, why did you leave? And when?"

"It's been a few years," Ikkaku answered. "I don't remember exactly how many. It's easy to lose track of time when you have no . . . no routine. I left because I didn't like the way things went down during the whole Aizen, Hueco Mundo, Espada thing . . . it was all just a big mess, and . . . "

"And I got my ass handed to me on a silver platter," went silently through his head.

"I hung around. I tried to find a reason to believe that the new Central 46 were better at managing things than their predecessors. But it didn't work out that way. I guess you could say I was disillusioned with the whole mission of the Gotei 13. I can't tell you how long it had been since I, personally, got to perform a konso and send a soul to Soul Society. Plus . . . I like to fight, and as I'm sure you know, the Gotei 13 does everything they can to avoid combat. I was getting soft. And bored."

"And Gonow was the answer for you?" Campion asked.

"Yeah—yes, Sir."

"With all its lawlessness, you wanted to come here because . . . because it's better than how the Central 46 were managing things?"

Ikkaku suddenly wished he had just left Campion alone. "Maybe it wasn't so much how things were done as it was my . . . sense of adventure. I just wasn't . . . satisfied staying in the Gotei 13. I wandered around for a while after I left, but everywhere I went was so . . . so dull. I guess I knew there would be excitement here."

Campion's eyes were glacial. "If you're a thrill-seeker, you just might find what you're looking for." A pause. "And more."

Yumichika sat with his legs folded under him, his hands clasped and resting demurely in his lap. Beside him, Nelphune gently ran his hand up and down his spine, as if such a motion would be reassuring and calming. Yet, for Yumichika, the gesture served only to remind him that he was on display. He could not bring himself to raise his head and make eye contact with any of the hundreds of guests who came by to greet the Orator and ingratiate themselves in the basest of manners.

His only comfort was in knowing that Supho and Pincot were nearby, standing just slightly behind him, ensuring his safety – relative as it was. The time spent with Nelphune in the alcove was brief, for Yumichika's true purpose—performing in the upper rooms—still lay ahead of him. So, when Nelphune rose to make his round of the hall on his way to deliver his prized bedmate to the upper rooms, Yumichika knew time was running out for him to dissuade the Orator from forcing him to keep his appointment with Jubavi.

Yumichika rose to his feet and the magnificent train was released from his shoulders, leaving him wearing only the sheer. Once again, two gold chains were fastened to the nipple rings and threaded through two eyelet openings in the sheer. Nelphune clasped the chains in one hand even as he escorted Yumichika on the same arm.

They began to make their tour.

"Ahh, look at them all, envying me for having such a gem at my side," Nelphune hummed softly. "They covet you – every one of them."

Yumichika was silent.

"Why do you not speak?" Nelphune asked. "Are you still angry about Damir?"

"I'm still angry about Campion and Lamos," Yumichika replied evenly, adding, "But I'm more angry that you're allowing Jubavi to have me. You know what he is. How can you let him touch me?"

"It is all part of my effort to lure him out," Nelphune explained. "I can feel he is so close to the surface now—"

"No," Yumichika said firmly, even as he maintained a demeanor that would not give anyone a hint that he was being resistant to his master's wishes. "You don't understand him at all," he said with quiet chastisement. "You think he wants—he needs sex to draw him out, but he was never like that. Never. And he hated it when I used my sexuality. He's not at all what you've been thinking he is."

Nelphune chuckled indulgently. "Every Atmen responds to physical stirring."

"The only touch Ruri'iro Kujaku ever wanted was my own," Yumichika protested. "And even then, he wanted only so much. We never had sex."

"Such a shame," Nelphune said. "He did not know what he was missing."

Yumichika craned his head and looked up at him in one last imploring moment. "If you can't draw him with everything you've been doing to me, what makes you think Jubavi would have any more luck? I'm starting to think you just want to see me humiliated in as many despicable ways as possible. How you ever ended up with someone as good as Campion is something I'll never understand."

As an insult, it was completely ineffective. Nelphune's only smiled at some fond inner recollection. "Yes, he is a good human, isn't he? I was fortunate in my selection of him. Not every Atmen made such a good choice." He paused. "Do you think Ruri'iro Kujaku made a good choice in selecting you?"

"What are you talking about?"

They had come to the foot of the stairway leading to the upper rooms and began to ascend slowly.

"Some of my brothers chose their masters for all the wrong reasons—"

"How could the Atmen choose their masters?" Yumichika challenged.

"When the Soul King put us into the zanpakuto, undignified as that was, he at least left us with the ability to choose our own wielders." His gaze shifted to the top of the stairs and off to the left where Campion stood watching their movement. "I knew immediately upon seeing him that I wanted him for my master." He seemed to be caught up in a joyful moment. "It truly was love at first sight. Look at him. How could I not desire such a good, courageous heart?"

Yumichika might have been moved, but he had not forgotten what Nelphune, despite his proclamations of love, had been capable of. "You betrayed him."

"I gave him what he wanted," Nelphune replied. "We had an agreement, and both of us have lived by it."

"I could never agree to something that resulted in so much perversity," Yumichika ground out. "And I would never try to force someone I loved to agree to it, either."

"And perhaps you should not venture an opinion where you do not know all the facts," Nelphune warned calmly. "After all, I am the only thing standing between you and Kennah. Do you really want to risk angering me, little bird?"

And Yumichika had to concede . . . it was a good point.

Ikkaku watched Yumichika circle the room on Nelphune's arm. Now, as the pair began coming up the stairs, Ikkaku quickly ducked back behind the lines of patrons awaiting their turn in the upper rooms, fearful that if Yumichika should see him, he might react and throw the whole rescue effort into jeopardy. So, he watched silently as Nelphune handed off his prized bedmate at the top of the steps to the man with long red curls and a clownish appearance, whom Rasce had identified as Damir. That man, in turn, summoned two uniformed men—clearly house guard—and together, the three disappeared down the hallway.

Ikkaku was now faced with the question of how to get some time alone with Yumichika. He still had some time remaining on his break, although he was discovering that there really was no such thing as a break when you were in the service of providing security for Regent Kennah. It wasn't that he was expected to be vigilant even during his breaks; it was that he could not help but be so. All around him were things to cause the alarm in his senses to go off. Drunkenness, lewdness, surreptitious voices and conspiratorial glances, wantonness, intrigue, envy, gluttony . . . if a sin existed, it was being committed somewhere on Nelphune's vast estate that night.

Ikkaku himself was participating in his own sin of deception, but for good reason. And now, he was about to deepen and expand that sin.

He watched as Damir sat back down at a small but heavy table positioned near the entrance to the hallway. Nelphune was already on his way back down to the hall floor.

Another man sat beside Damir, and they had several books in front of them. Behind them stood another two guards, and opposite them, on the other side of the hallway entrance, stood a third.

A line formed very quickly in front of the table, and it became clear to Ikkaku that the two men were scheduling the appointments for the Orator's bedmates. A quick scan showed that, at other hallway entrances, there were also schedulers from the Regent's household and at least four others that he did not recognize, also regulating the flow of customers into the upper rooms.

Ikkaku did not stand in line. Rather, he waited until the line went down – and it did so quickly, for the two men were excellent at what they did—then he approached the table.

The redhead was pouring over the schedule, and the other man got up and headed down the hall on some errand or other.

Ikkaku stood before him.

Damir did not even look up. "You wish to purchase some time?"

"Yes," Ikkaku replied. "But I don't have a lot of money." He could see the faint curl of the corner of the man's mouth, even though the man was still focused on his books.

"Tell me what you have, and we'll see if it's enough."

Ikkaku was brazen. "The one that just came up the steps with the Orator . . . I want an hour with him."

Now Damir's head came up, and his expression went from mild surprise to wonder at what he was seeing to indulgence of an impossible request.

"You want an hour with Yumichika? An hour with the Orator's finest and the single most coveted bedmate in the entire lower east? Oh . . . only a beauty like you could have the testicles to make such a request."

"So, how much?" Ikkaku pressed.

Damir smiled. "More than you could ever make in a hundred lifetimes." He was enjoying looking at Ikkaku and made no secret of his perusal. "Now, I'm sure we can find someone who will be suitable for you—"

"I want Yumichika," Ikkaku stated bluntly. "I have a hundred dema."

Damir laughed. "A hundred dema . . . is that . . . oh my, I'm afraid that won't even get you five minutes with our least attractive."

Ikkaku made the decision instantly. He had seen the look in Damir's eye, and he knew he had few options if he were to get what he wanted. He swallowed his pride and revulsion, for he had only to remind himself that he was doing this to recover Yumichika.

He put his palms flat on the table and leaned over. "What about five minutes with one of his most attractive?"

"Let me see what I have available for a hundred dema—"

Ikkaku leaned closer and lowered his voice seductively – something he'd never imagined himself capable of doing. "You don't need to check the books."

The man looked up at him again and the realization slowly dawned on him. A satisfied gleam showed in his eye. "Now . . . that might be something we can arrange."

"And uh . . . if you could manage a little more than five minutes . . . I think we'd both be very satisfied," Ikkaku said.

"I know you would be," came the sure response. "Yes, I think I'll have some time . . . right now." He turned and looked down the hallway. "Dosos! Come back here and man the table!" Ikkaku reached out and, playing his role, slid his hand over the silk-covered, firmly rounded buttocks, like a man barely able to contain himself.

The redhead made an unattractive giggling moan and brushed his hand away in a giddy manner. "Not so fast. You can wait a few more mintues."

"I don't think so," Ikkaku replied, tugging at the sash wrapped around the man's waist. "I want to see what I'm paying for."

"Believe me, it will be worth much more than your measly hundred dema," the man replied. "And who knows, maybe if you're any good, it will be free of charge."

"And if you're satisfied, maybe you'll find a way to slip me into the schedule," Ikkaku proposed.

Damir simpered. "There's always a catch, isn't there?" Then a smile crossed his face as he decided it would be worth the go. "Maybe. I'm very particular, so you'll have your work cut out for you. If you want a turn with Yumichika, you'll have to earn it through me."

"How long is this one in there for?" Supho asked.

"An hour," Pincot replied. "The next one has two hours."

The two men were stationed outside the door to Yumichika's room, one on each side.

After a brief silence, Pincot stated softly, "And the one after that has an hour, and then the next one comes, and the next and the next. I don't know how he does it. I don't know how he can stand being a situation like that."

"And a lot of the bedmates look at us and think the same thing," Supho pointed out. "They wonder how we can be prepared to die fighting for anyone."

Pincot simpered. "I've been here a long time, Supho. You're still green. Believe me, that's not what the bedmates are thinking when they look at us."

"Oh?"

"They're thinking, how can they stand living such plain lives. They're thinking, oh, how can anyone survive without spa baths and massages, beautiful clothes, stylists, and all the other fluff that goes on in the Hyacinth House. They're not in awe of us. They pity us," Pincot replied.

"Well . . . Yumichika's not like them," Supho stated.

"You're right, he's not," Pincot agreed. "But you know, we really fucked up."

It was unusual to hear Pincot utter such language, and so its use immediately perked up Supho's attention. "Why do you say that?"

"Because we weren't supposed to care," Pincot replied. "We weren't supposed to care, and now we do and it's too late to undo it."

"You mean we weren't supposed to care about Yumichika," Supho supposed.

"About any bedmate," Pincot replied. "The captain warned us."

"Yes, but—but you know why the captain feels that way. The captain doesn't like any attachments – unless it's between brothers-in-arms. And that's a whole different kind of bond. It's because of what Lamos did to him. That's why he feels that way," Supho stated. "And besides, Yumichika isn't like the other bedmates."

Pincot shook his head. "The captain isn't any less attached to his son now simply because Lamos chose against him. But that's not the same thing as what we're talking about. That's a father and son. Yumichika was nothing to us when he got here. He only became important to us because we let him. He wasn't trying to . . . to win us over. It just happened because we didn't keep our guard up."

Supho felt a twinge of concern. Pincot, though rule-bound and stoic, also tended to be light-hearted and optimistic. But ever since Opal Diem, when he had ended up unexpectedly in the middle of a clandestine escape attempt, he had seemed troubled and torn. Now, Supho understood why: he was torn. Between loyalty to his captain and feelings of sympathy for Yumichika. Between following his captain's advice about detachment and admitting to the genuine affection he felt for another soul. Between wanting to help Yumichika escape and knowing that the success of such an endeavor was highly improbable.

"We can only deal with the situation as it is, not as we wish it were," Supho said. He dared not tell Pincot that Yumichika's friends had arrived in Gonow. "The best we can do is be good friends to him."

"And what good friends we are," Pincot scoffed. "Sitting outside the door while he's being forced to have sex with anyone who can pay the price. Making sure no unauthorized guests make it inside. Only paying customers." He stood and paced a few steps. "I've been at this so long, I'd started to forget what wrong felt like. What goes on here started to feel like . . . just the way things are. But it's not how they are. And it's not how they should be." He leaned against the wall with a heavy thump. "And still I don't know what I should be doing."

Supho felt guilty. "This is all because I told you I was planning to help him escape, isn't it?"

Pincot shook his head. "No. No, that's only a small part of it. Supho, when you told me that night about helping him escape, I could have easily gone to the captain and told him. I kept telling myself that the reason I didn't was because I didn't want you to get in trouble. I didn't want to report you. And that's true. Since you and I began pulling duty together watching over Yumichika, we've become pretty close, I think." He looked down and shook his head. "But that wasn't the only reason. I didn't want anything to happen to Yumichika if Nelphune found out he was trying to escape. You know, I tried, but despite my own will, I ended up liking him. You're right. He's not like the other bedmates. Damir tries to force him to be . . . like a woman, and he still manages to be a man. And now I feel like we've let him down, because we can't get him away from all this."

Supho felt a sense of relief to know that Pincot did not blame him for getting him involved in dangerous secrets that could have cost both of them their lives. Yet, although his guilt was assuaged, he still wished he could do something to put Pincot's mind at ease.

"I feel the same way you do," he began. "When the captain first had me on duty guarding Yumichika, I didn't want to do it. I knew that guarding the bedmates was considered a prestige assignment, but I didn't want anything to do with them. But I liked Yumichika right away, so much so that I started messing up at my job. I asked to be removed. When you came to replace me, I was able to actually . . . become friends with him."

They both grew silent at the approach of two figures from the end of the hallway. One's identity was clear right away. It was Damir, frilly and as concupiscent as ever. The other man was a newcomer, very striking, and from his attire, clearly a member of Kennah's houseguard.

As they passed, Damir craned his head to the side. "Eat your hearts out."

It was not an idle taunt. Had either Supho or Pincot been interested in men in a sexual way, it would have been a true slap in the face, for the man accompanying Damir was, indeed, very attractive, very masculine, and possessed of a character that made him seem dangerous.

Noting the marks on his eyes, Pincot whispered quietly after they had gone by, "Capchetin."

"He doesn't look like one," Supho replied.

"And if he's partaking in the upper rooms, he's not acting like one, either."

"He's got terrible taste," Supho said cheekily, hoping to lighten the mood.

Pincot accepted the attempt and replied with a grin, "If he knew what was in this room, he'd never settle for that."

It was one of the most grueling hours of Ikkaku's entire existence.

And his first complete foray into a sexual world that he had always imagined would be reserved for only Yumichika.

Still, he'd done what he'd had to do, and with no regret. There had been an element of abhorrence, naturally. A twinge of disgust. But the physical aspect of it had been, if not satisfying, then at it hadn't been grotesque.

The man—he'd given his name as Damir—was skilled, although Ikkaku had no manner of comparison. He'd employed his expertise to provide Ikkaku with an experience that, under other circumstances, might have been memorable. But as far as Ikkaku was concerned, this encounter was remarkable only for its purpose.

And Damir, good to his word, unknowingly helped propel that purpose further along. So pleased was he at having bedded a handsome, young newcomer that he was more than happy to juggle some appointments and free up time for the man to be with Yumichika.

"Come back at midnight. I can give you one hour with him. I'll just cut Hemlay's two hours in half. I'll set him up with Lamos to make up for it. He'll be fine," Damir explained as he dressed. "But I should warn you not to expect too much from Yumichika. Oh, he's nice to look at, but he's never really mastered the art of being a bedmate."

Ikkaku was secretly glad to hear this, but he replied, "Well, I'm sure no one's mastered it quite like you have."

Damir glowed with self-satisfaction. "How kind of you. Yes, yes, I've been at this a long time. I know how to please a guest."

"Hopefully, I'll be more than just a guest," Ikkaku sugared.

"Perhaps. Perhaps." Damir was at the door. "Midnight. Don't be late. Yumichika is in high demand. If you're not there, I'll be forced to let Hemlay have his two hours."

With that, the redhaired left the room.

And Ikkaku's legs began to shake. Now, he had only not to blow his cover between now and midnight.

Two hours.

He had to keep it together for two hours.

"Shit, Nelphune, I don't know why you put so much stock in him. He's boring as hell."

Kennah's insult was meant to provoke a reaction.

But Nelphune was not so easily lured. "I know Campion is not everyone's . . . cup of tea, as they say. But he suits me perfectly. I like his quiet, stalwart nature. He is the ideal counter to my own robust, overbearing nature. Of course, if you are displeased, you can send him back to me."

Kennah sneered and grinned at the same time – an altogether unpleasant sight. "He'll be coming back to you soon enough. And Yumichika will be coming to me. I know you haven't been able to draw out his Atmen, or you'd have already come to get Campion."

"Or maybe I prefer to keep Yumichika and his Atmen and let Campion stay with you," Nelphune suggested.

Kennah roared with laughter. "You think I'm a dumbass?! You'd never give up Campion for good. You've got a hard-on for him that stretches clear back to the living world."

Nelphune was dry. "Tsk-tsk. Such language. That is my master you are speaking of."

"Yeah, and you want him back. You can't fool me. You've got two days to flush out our brother. After that, it's my turn."

"I do not need a reminder," Nelphune grumbled lowly. "We shall see where the leaf falls in two days."

"Fuck, are you going to get poetic now? Hmph!"

Nelphune watched him walk away.

And he wondered. He wondered what decision he would make in two days.

Ikkaku approached Damir's little table five minutes before midnight.

"Ah, you're so punctual!" Damir noted.

"You said not to be late," Ikkaku replied. He'd spent the past two hours making the patrol rounds with Dunkip. When the lieutenant had asked about his absence, Ikkaku had not lied.

"I wanted to see if I could get in an appointment with Yumichika."

Dunkip had laughed. "Oh, I'm sure that went well? You were laughed off the floor?"

"I have an appointment at midnight."

"An appointment . . . you're lying. Look at you, I can see it in your eye, you're pulling my leg."

Ikkaku was adamant. "I'm not. I got an appointment for one hour at midnight."

"How did you manage that?" Dunkip asked skeptically.

"Like you said . . . I paid for it."

"How could you afford that much? Is there something about yourself that you've been keeping hidden, Harsho? Are you a secret heir or something?"

"I didn't pay with money."

"Then what . . . oh god, do I even want to know?"

Ikkaku slapped Dunkip on the shoulder and smiled. "Probably not. Will, uh, will you cover for me at midnight? I can't pass up a chance like this."

And Dunkip, being a protégé of his own Captain Hlayma and knowing that rules sometimes had to be broken, said he would cover; and now Ikkaku was only steps, only minutes away from his goal – or at least, the first part of his goal. After all, finding Yumichika had been only the start. Getting him out of Gonow would be the more difficult endeavor, but already Ikkaku was anticipated it with impatience.

But his impatience also had an element of fear to it. As much as he wanted to see Yumichika, he found himself fighting down a gnawing trepidation. Would Yumichika be happy to see him? Was Yumichika ready to leave this place at all costs or had the finery and grandness of it all gotten the better of him? Yumichika, the lover of beautiful things, might possibly enjoy the attention and trappings of his captivity.

No. Ikkaku had to believe that slavery, no matter how gilded, no matter how luxuriant and indulgent, could not be agreeable to someone like Yumichika, who had been through so many trials already.

"This works out well with you being a little early. His last appointment just left. You understand, you really only have fifty minutes, because you have to give him time to get ready for his next customer," Damir explained. "And now, if you get in there quickly before Hemlay shows up, I can break the bad news to him without you being seen. Dosos, show Mister Otomaki to Yumichika's room."

Ikkaku followed Damir's assistant to a room not very far down the hallway. Standing outside the door were the two guards whom Ikkaku had seen earlier, whom Damir had taunted. Now, when Ikkaku and Dosos stopped in front of them, they both appeared flabbergasted.

"He—he's here for Yumichika?" Pincot asked.

Dosos nodded. "That's what Damir said. One hour," he replied disinterestedly and headed back to the table.

Pincot and Supho looked at each other.

"You can go in," Pincot said.

Ikkaku rapped his knuckles on the door.

"You don't have to knock," Pincot informed him. "Just go in."

But as Ikkaku placed his hand on the door handle, Supho spoke. "You must have done something pretty great to be given an appointment with Yumichika. Most house guards can't afford the price."

Ikkaku played it well. "You saw what I had to do to get an appointment with him."

Pincot raised an eyebrow in humor. "You bribed Damir by having sex with him? Fates, you must really be desperate."

"Neh," Ikkaku replied. "Just curious."

"But Yumichika's schedule is always full. Who did Damir drop?" Supho asked.

"I don't remember. Someone Hem . . . Hemlock . . . Hem-something," Ikkaku answered. "Either way, I don't care. As long as I get my time with him."

"Well then . . . enjoy your hour," Pincot said, sounding somewhat bemused and unsure what to say.

"I will."

And from that moment on, it was as if the two guards vanished. All that Ikkaku could see was the door in front of him. All he could hear was his own heart pounding in his ears. All he could feel was the shaking of his body.

He opened the door, stepped inside and closed it behind him.

The room was enormous, well-furnished with an oversized bed in the center, draped with gossamer sheers; two large shrunks carved from black oak with its distinctive zig-zag grain; a mid-sized table suitable for dining, with four chairs arrayed around it; a hand basin in the far wall with a spigot disguised in a porcelain swan. The floor was covered with thick rugs, the walls with dark woodland frescoes, and the ceiling with wood paneling. In the wall to the right was a stone hearth and a mid-sized fire burning. Directly across from the door through which he'd entered, there was another door in the far wall, and this led into what appeared to be, from the limited view, a bathing room. Lastly, a small table stood near the hearth, and upon this were decanters—some more full than others—and glasses. The light was dim but bright enough to give fairly good detail of the room's contents.

And its occupant.

Sitting on the bed, facing away from the door, was Yumichika. His hair was loose, and he was brushing it out with slow, deliberate movements. He wore a dressing gown that could have been white or yellow or peach – it was impossible to tell in the faint light.

Ikkaku could sense nothing from him. No emotion, no indication that he was even aware that he had a visitor.

Then, unexpectedly, he spoke.

"I'll be with you in a second. I just need a moment to straighten up."

Ikkaku was silent. The dullness in that voice . . . the feigned indifference. Ikkaku knew right then and there that there was no chance that Yumichika had been entranced into accepting his life as a slave.

Yumichika set the brush down on the bed. A visible effort accompanied the setting of his shoulders as he steeled himself to rise and face another customer. He stood up and began to turn. "I'm sorry about that—"

The breath felt like it was swept from his lungs. He could not speak.

Facing him across the bed and from just inside the door, Ikkaku had had more time to prepare for this meeting. Even so, all he could manage was one word.

"Yumichika."