The Fallen Series: Part II - Dignity Falls

by Seth's Kiss

AU: The Other War was won by Aizen, with the Seireitei conquered, the losing side powerless and all enslaved. Taken away to the Human World, Ichigo, Grimmjow and Byakuya are subjected to the most demeaning of indignities. Will they put aside their differences and stand together as one? Or will they lose themselves and drift apart? DARK fic. Rated M. Same warnings as in Part I.

1. Part Two: Prologue

The Fallen Series (a Bleach Fanfiction) by Seth's Kiss:

A/N: Hello everyone! I'm back (standing in a dramatic stance with I'm Back by Dope playing in the background). For all the followers and readers of Part One, welcome! So nice to still have you along for the ride! It's going to get darker and darker, people (smirks wickedly)! For all newcomers, greetings and feel free to read this part independently from the preceding one, only you may miss (like BIG) references and other things mentioned previously. Hence digging into this part of the fic without reading the former one isn't something that I highly recommend, but like I said, feel free. This chapter isn't the first chapter of Part Two nor is it a prologue. Let's say it's a sort of interlude linking the two parts together, if that makes any sense. In addition, this interlude is somewhat safe, apart from it containing language (from characters that generally own a rather sharp tongue) and being fairly dramatic, so no need for any other warnings: those will start with the 1st chapter. On a general note, Part Two will be longer than Part One, at least double in chapters. So, without further ado, please do enjoy!

Note: Once more, Doll is not an O.C. She's an actual Bleach character from the series and who she is exactly will eventually be revealed in latter chapters. I will not repeat this again.

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Part Two: Dignity Falls:

The Fallen: Interlude 1: Then and Now:

Opening the bamboo blinds of his window wide and stretching a little, a somewhat younger version of Sojun Kuchiki sighed blithely, admiring how peaceful and how lovely the day was.

As his personal attendant walked in after receiving permission and began announcing the noble's schedule for the day, excitement filled the latter up heartily when Sojun realized that he had nothing important to do and the very little that was, he was quick to report to another later date, freeing himself completely before running off, quite electrified.

Fuelled by an energy he should not be having but not able to help it knowing what his short-lived freedom would entail, the young noble travelled within the complete family mansion, checking every corner, trying every room, not once slowing down or pausing, despite knowing that he would be bound to collapse if he accomplished too much effort. But then he thought what the heck anyway, he had to imperatively find the other now, despite already and always knowing that he'd find the one he was searching for in one place, and one place only.

Passing by fellow members of his kin as he directed himself to the Kuchiki Estate's library, Sojun quietly crossed the threshold and peered in, his gentle grey eyes softening as his gaze fell upon Sosuke Aizen, seated in a far back corner and plunged nose deep down within the pages of yet another book.

Though the young brown-haired man learnt every lesson he was taught at the Academy, aced every exam, mastered every technique, he was always studying, researching and reaching out beyond for further, for more.

Advancing as silently as he had entered, the young dark-haired male made his way over the other, hoping to startle him - as he was hiding his reiatsu - and knowing he had failed when the young brown-haired male smiled broadly, though not yet looking up from his reading, as Sojun got closer, causing the latter to whisper out to him: "I thought I'd find you here."

"And here I am" stated Sosuke as he eventually tore his gaze from the pages to appraise the Kuchiki noble thoroughly, before returning his attention to the book in front of him.

Sojun beamed brightly, like a child, before hastily moving forward and plopping down next to him and, not even a minute later, scooting closer until he could rest his head upon the other's shoulder, before letting out a deep contented sigh, which led to the Sosuke to chuckle gently, rather amused: "So little to make you happy."

"So much to make you satisfied" breathed out Sojun, eyes closed, his tone bordering the edges of a complaint "Your knowledge is beyond compare. Why explore more?"

The other snorted as though it was blatantly obvious: "Because there is more."

"Such a glutton" chided the young dark-haired noble playfully poking at the other's cheek, leading the young brown-haired man to smirk just as mischievously before he cast a slow, diligent cursory glance over the library, checking if no one was watching.

Turned out that the two were actually alone at the moment. Good.

After wordlessly closing the book, without a single warning, Sosuke tackled the other to the bench they were seated upon before towering over him and confining the noble's wrists in his hands, whereas they stared deep into each other's eyes. It was gentle grey fully engulfed by intense brown.

Biting his lower lip with half-lidded eyes, Sojun tried to lean forward to touch the other's lips, only Sosuke pulled away a little, intent on making a point before them going any further: "I would rather qualify myself as lust, not gluttony. It's not excess that I desire but gratification, despite it being so rare and near impossible to fully obtain."

The young Kuchiki noble rolled his eyes and shook his head at the other, amazed on how the brown-haired always had to clarify everything, as if everyone but himself were a bunch of hopeless and helpless idiots, before Sojun then shivered with pleasure when Sosuke whispered his next words directly next his ear: "And that in...various domains, as you very well know."

The other had always had the undeniable power to render the young dark-haired male utterly ruined and pliant when between his capable hands or when exposed to his silver tongue, and today was no exception, for the noble closed his eyes and moaned quietly, his voice heavily laced with escalating desire: "You're bad."

"You know I am" smirked the cursed child smugly as he lazily aimed for Sojun's unprotected neck, lavishing it with attention between nips, licks and kisses, whilst his hands descended to blindly venture beneath the Kuchiki noble's many lower robes, caressing gently when finally his fingers managed to touch skin.

The young dark-haired male let out a soft, shuddering breath as he clung onto the other like one would to a lifeline, surrendering but halfway to the thriving sensations, as a small but constant and nagging fear came jutting forward, rudely interrupting: "If anyone saw us-"

The noble's words of warning had the cursed child sigh loud and emphatically, though he did not pause in his actions: "You always worry about that, when we've never been caught."

"Only because I'm cautious when you're not" retorted the noble seriously, his tone of voice rather accusatory despite his smile, whilst still attempting, though in vain, not to enjoy the other's feathery touches too much otherwise neither would then able to put it to an end.

What the Kuchiki implied led Sosuke to halt this time and raise an eyebrow, eyes shining with an opposing mix of feigned innocence and impish mirth: "Are you saying that I'm reckless?"

"More like imprudent" corrected Sojun knowingly, relaxing as he became clearly aware that there truly was no one around at all, not even outside, before the noble went on elaborating his statement, mind at ease "You think so highly of yourself that you consider worry to be a waste of your time, given that you arrogantly believe that danger will never touch you."

There were many things that greatly aggravated Sosuke, and amongst them were these three: facing the unknown, leaving things unfinished and being too legible, so he clenched his teeth in a rather annoyed, if not forced smile, eyebrow twitching faintly: "It's frustrating to see that you manage to discern such things about me."

Batting his eyelashes playfully at the cursed child, Sojun bit his lip again, uttering softly as his knee nudged the other's hip: "I frustrate you, Sosuke?"

Shaking his head at the other with smirk, Sosuke let the Kuchiki cup his cheek and draw him in closer, whilst he whispered in turn, with an odd, little choked timbre to his voice that was too subtle to really be heard: "Very much so, Sojun."

And from that instant forward, most of what Sosuke uttered were words Sojun couldn't follow.

Days later, Sojun thought he'd be thoughtful enough and resupply Sosuke with more reading material, finding quite a few titles he was positively certain that would enthral the other. Barging late into the Estate's library without warning, the young noble announced happily: "Good evening, Sosuke! Prepare to be thrilled, for I found new, uncharted books for y-!"

"I hear that you are to be married, Sojun."

The Kuchiki had been so unprepared that the books he was carrying dropped straight out of his hands, his arms going limply to his sides as all the knowledge went crashing to the floor.

The cursed child's eyes were dark, angry, dangerous, accusatory, promising to be utterly and unreservedly unforgiving should the noble dare give him an invalid or an inacceptable reply.

With his heart hammering in his chest, his mouth gone dry and his tongue turned to lead, Sojun, for a moment, couldn't utter a single word: "W-What did you say?"

"Given your reaction, I think you heard perfectly well" stated the young brown-haired male, before he tilted his head slightly, eyes still as deadly "You don't seem too surprised, more like horrified."

Swallowing hard, the young Kuchiki noble lowered his eyes as he stuttered nervously: "I-I...I had hoped that it was all mere hearsay in the end, so I- I never gave it much thought."

The other remained utterly unforgivable: "Still, you knew. How long have you known?"

"Sosuke..."

"For. How. Long."

"A couple of months now" whispered Sojun softly with a depressed sigh, closing his eyes and hiding them from the other's dark glare.

Sosuke's eyes narrowed even further than what they already were: "And when were you going to tell me?"

Casting a desperate look in the other's direction, the distressed young dark-haired male voiced genuinely: "I-I didn't know how to tell you. And I certainly didn't want you finding out about it like this."

A beat of silence rang in the air, with heavy emotions of anger and anxiety swirling around them, before it was suddenly broken by Sojun's shuddering breath.

"Besides, I...I don't want this" he admitted quietly, as he tentatively walked over to stand in front of the other male before slowly leaning his head forward, a tremor running through his frame, fearing rejection "What I wish for is to be with you, no one else."

The cursed child could tell that the other was sincere, but Sosuke just couldn't find it within him to feel sorry for him, not entirely anyway. He couldn't help but feel slightly betrayed, though he knew that it was downright ludicrous to think that, especially from someone like him who was not supposed to make any trivial attachments. So he forcibly struggled to push himself towards a better sense of judgement, a certain rationality, a hint of understanding: "The Kuchiki, in truth, have very little say when it comes to arranged marriage. They won't let you weasel out of it, especially not to be with me of all people."

Nodding, the noble muttered miserably, eyes downcast: "Because we're of the same gender."

"There is that, but that's not what I was thinking of. I'm an Aizen, remember?"

"This again?" sighed the young Kuchiki, before shaking his head slightly with a faint frown "I honestly don't see the relevance."

"No, I suppose you don't," whispered the young brown-haired male vaguely as his hostile stance deflated a little, before he eyed the other with a certain gentleness "You really don't want this, do you?"

"No, I don't" admitted the dark-haired male unhappily, closing his eyes against the raise of emotions ready to spill down out from the corner of his eyelashes under the form of tears.

For a moment, it seemed to the cursed child that the one in front of him was currently in fact the saddest man alive, leading these words to exit his mouth before he could reign them back: "Run away with me, Sojun."

Both were led to stare at each other with widened eyes, Sosuke for saying it and Sojun for hearing it, before the latter breathed out unevenly, unsure and uncertain, lost: "S-Sosuke?"

Unable to take those words back, the cursed child gingerly set his hands upon the other's shoulders, as he spoke softly, his silver tongue smoothly at work: "If your wish is to escape this confinement they're caging you in, come with me."

Two separate sentiments instantly surged through the noble: anxiety and anticipation, but not one moment was the Kuchiki in any way hesitant. Moved, Sojun, with a pretty blush to his cheeks, was more than ready to accept, to escape with the one person he had come to love: "Sosuke, I..."

"I warn you, however, that I'm not exactly someone worthy of all you feel for me. Someday, you'll come to either dread or despise me. Maybe even both."

The wistful, longing trance in which the young noble was caught in shattered at those words, a small frown marring his features as he gazed at the other with puzzlement: "Wha-? Sosuke, I don't understand."

"It's better that you didn't" whispered Sosuke with an unreadable smile before leaning in and gently sealing his lips to Sojun's, cutting off any arising queries that were about to be uttered, making the contact last, linger, before slowly pulling away and then, without a single glance back, he wordlessly walked out on the other, leaving the latter far too dazed to hold him back.

And from that day onwards, no matter how hard Sojun searched, he couldn't locate Sosuke...

Long months later, in an isolated room within the far end of the Kuchiki's Estate, cries of a newborn baby filled the otherwise deathly silent and dimmed room, heard to no one else but the three other occupants within it, two men and a woman.

One of the men, Sojun, was on the floor, gravely wounded and barely conscious, yet conscious enough to be utterly horrified by what had just transpired.

The woman, Sojun's wife, was also upon the ground, breaths shallow, glassy eyes half-lidded, with a large, precise but awfully bloodied incision, slashed upon her abdomen.

The other man, Sosuke, stood mutely, like a ghost, with his zanpaktou dripping with blood in one hand, the crying newborn child in the other.

Cradling the infant against his chest, he hushed it gently yet firmly, soothing its cries before laying it upon the nearby bed and warping it in the sheets, staining them with blood: not the child's...it belonged to the mother.

Turning towards the woman and eyeing her with utter loathing and disgust, Sosuke raised the blade high above her, aiming for her barely beating heart.

"Please! Please, don't do this! What the others have said, I have never believed! You and I grew up together! Please let me believe that the goodness I knew is still in you, Sosuke" pleaded Sojun breathlessly, as he reached out with a trembling, bleeding hand, desperate to get to the man, who used to, not too long ago, be his best friend and the only he had ever loved more than anyone else, trying to stop what the other was about to carry out.

Pausing in his assault, Sosuke stared down vacantly at the man, a single, black tear falling down as he confessed to the other in a cold, dark whisper: "I was never good to begin with."

And as the blade swung down, from that instant onwards, so far, Sosuke was true to his word.

Too shaken to scream, Sojun threw himself awake, sweating profusely and utterly breathless, before he struggled to calm himself down when he became aware enough to realize that it had actually just been nothing more than an evoking nightmare.

Quickly closing his eyes as he took in that his heart rate was off the charts and his whole frame trembled, Byakuya's father distractedly noted that even the random attacks his chronic sickness would give him on a regular basis didn't put him in such a state.

Ah, why was it that former memories, notably those that were too painful to look at, came back to us when we were at our weakest point? It was like they were there lurking, waiting for the most opportune moment to strike, to bring us down further than we already were.

Though he hadn't forgotten about it, he had long refuted, rejected, that last memory, the one where Sosuke had killed his wife, a feat he had had a very hard time divulging to anyone else. He just couldn't bring himself to associate the Sosuke he grew up with and came to cherish, to the Sosuke of that night. And despite all that has transpired since, he still couldn't.

How could he anyway, when the current Sosuke was a result, a product, of their own creation, born from a combined horror and hatred towards the Aizen that no one was able to explain?

"Haunted by the past, Sojun?"

Byakuya's father turned his focus over to the one who addressed him, eyeing him critically. From where he sat, like a statue looking out the window of their quarters, his father, Ginrei, seemed even further worn by age, but Sojun couldn't find it in his heart to pity him. Not after everything. Not after losing Byakuya to Sosuke, by Ginrei's fault.

"Amidst other things" replied Sojun vaguely, looking away "Not everything was perfect back then, but the Sosuke I know - knew - could have been salvaged at some point, with just a little hope, a little help, a little effort."

"Which would never have happened given he explicitly made it clear that he did not wish to be saved," countered Byakuya's father ruthlessly, causing the other to cover his face with his hands and let out a shuddering breath.

"How did all go so wrong?"

Yet again, Ginrei was unreservedly relentless: "It was wrong from the very beginning."

This time, the other Kuchiki just sighed, all while uncovering his face and looking away, tired of his father's callousness: "I no longer have the strength to blame you, father."

Even more harshness came forward bitterly, only this time it was utterly intolerable: "I was not talking about what my actions may have led to."

Turning back to his father with extreme slowness, Sojun's eyes widened incredulously before, right after that, narrowing accusingly: "May have?"

The ancient man's condescension never ceased to amaze him. Coming to think of it, at times Sojun had the impression that his father had greatly influenced his son in that very manner, for Byakuya was far too conceited for his own good. Pride cometh before a fall, as they say...

Completely ignoring his son's severe glare, Ginrei fully rerouted their conversation: "Though our Clan's historical records do not keep track of the existence and the past of the children of chaos, rumours from the Rukongai would fly and seldom reach our ears every once in a while. Amid them, we overheard repeatedly that the children of chaos were destined to rule, were the rulers of this world when it all came to exist. And the Purebloods are there to hinder them."

"But are seemingly powerless to do so" muttered Byakuya's father pointedly as he gestured inattentively at their surroundings, a brutal reminder that they, as 'purebloods', were currently confined within the walls of their own mansion by the Aizen. Nightingales in a golden cage...

As Ginrei remained silent, Sojun sighed profoundly and ran a hand through his hair, before questioning the older Kuchiki: "Tell me, father, were did the Purebloods even come from? If there were merely errant souls and the children of chaos, from where did our ancestors stem?"

It took a moment for the other to respond, and when he did, it was just another dead end to their queries: "I do not know. That still remains one information amongst the many that have been omitted from our records."

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Long ago, before the Seireitei ever existed, before what was then known as the Soul Society came to be, the land of the departed was a world of desolation and discord, souls wandering aimlessly, yet appallingly. No boundaries to limit their vices, no rules to chasten their crimes.

Amidst their macabre and morbid madness, they were indirectly overseen, overwhelmed, by seven distinctive, but not that different, families. Along with seven Witches faithfully by their side, they were the Children of Chaos, each clan embracing a symbolic sin they incarnated to its fullest. However, it was not unheard of for a Child of Chaos to indulge in more than one sin. The more the merrier, after all.

The Tsukiyomi, symbolizing Greed, were firm believers that it was best to own all and leave nothing behind for anyone else, not even a little, no matter what it was. It was easy for them to draw others into this sin by playing on desires that stemmed from arrogance and ambition.

The Izanagi, characterizing Gluttony, a sister sin to Greed, would set firm hands on all just as well, with the exception of doing so with extravagant excess, namely when it came to food. They were capable of leading villages to either famine or cannibalism in the name of their sin.

The Shihoin, representing Sloth, were quite startlingly destructive as their need to impose lethargy was capable of destroying time itself. They could have an entire village fall to ruin just by enticing its people to idleness, having them crumble due to an excessive ethical apathy.

The Susanoo, personifying Envy, constantly evoked the desire to have what others possessed, notably if it was irresistibly appealing. Their poisonous whispers in the ears of weak-minded often led to thefts and to the practice of black magic, just to have what belonged to another.

The Narukami, incarnating Wrath, with their unrelenting rage that could be as infinite as a blazing inferno, were driven by violence, fired by hate and revenge, ready to harm and never forgive. They would kill with no regret, easily giving into an impulsive ire able to wage war.

The Aizen, embodying Lust, motivated by a strong desire to acquire pleasure, no matter its form, were considered as quite lethal given the lengths they took to obtain said gratification. They fully lorded over the art of manipulation, using it to coerce or seduce who they wished.

The Kuchiki, emblematizing Pride, were maybe the most daunting as they acted and drove all to accept, that they were just too perfect to be associated with anyone beneath them. They were prideful of their position and power when their evil deeds shouldn't be warranting any...

Despite their propinquity, the seven clans were known to avoid one another - with the general exception of those whose sins had a certain common ground, like Lust and Envy, Greed and Wrath, Sloth and Gluttony - as much as possible, knowing that any interaction would be harder to retrieve from than to initiate. And though certain particular dissimilarities set them apart, if ever together, they were hegemony and tyranny, debauchery and degeneracy, release and captivity, many pretty lies and a very ugly truth, and they all reigned as such, for a very long time.

All until, awhile after the entire Shihoin Clan had inexplicably disappeared without a trace, a young Kuchiki woman, along with her husband, unpredictably, progressively fell in love with members of a Family that had diligently protected them - without asking for a thing in return - from a threat no Child of Chaos had ever faced before: forsaken souls, emanating from a parallel world, haunted by regret, that were later baptised 'Hollows'.

A Child of Chaos is said to be utterly incapable of love, but it isn't impossible for them to fall out of that general truth and develop strong sentiments for someone other than themselves, may it be either attraction, fondness and respect, or infatuation, jealousy and obsession.

Nonetheless, the two Kuchiki, intrigued by their saviours and their capacity to defeat the alien assailants, let inquisitiveness lead them whilst using the safety of their world as an excuse, observing the Family from a distance, noting on how different they were from all the senseless souls they had encountered before them.

The Family, quite large in number yet inconspicuous in existence - even in name - were entirely selfless, continuously putting others before themselves, and of a boundless generosity; kind and compassionate; self-disciplined and dedicated to one another; hard-working and steadfast in their convictions; brave and bold but modest; willing to forgive and show mercy. Not a single sin tainted their existence. And even if there was a few bouts of one or two on occasion here and there, they were quick to reign themselves in. They were all of pure virtue. All that which the Children of Chaos were not.

Amazed by how unaffected this Family was by their kind's ghastly influence, the two Kuchiki approached them, mingled with them, eventually growing quite fond of them and, with great difficulty, asked them if it were ever possible to be like they were, free of sin. Much to their upmost surprise, the Family confirmed such a farfetched reality, saying that it mostly needed to come from their own will: they could change, if they wished to, but in order to do so, they had to really want it.

The Kuchiki, true to their incarnation, had always harboured a nasty habit of haughtiness and egotism, as well as being vain and arrogant in everything they did or said. However, here, in the company of the Family, after five full years of secretly yielding entirely to Humbleness, the virtue opposite of their sin, the two Kuchiki managed to cleanse themselves, ridding their hearts of most of the darkness that plagued them, no longer bound by the chaotic, malicious nature they believed they'd always be.

Thrilled beyond measure, the two Kuchiki, immeasurably grateful towards their yet-again saviours, hastened to share this newfound reality with their clan and the other Children of Chaos, blissfully hopeful that, after years of idle and immoral domination, they would all be better off having a change of heart and establish an improved, if not healthier, way of living.

Only, still a little conceited without realizing it, for pride did stay one of the hardest sins to get entirely rid of, neither of the two Kuchiki had counted on the utter and downright refusal they were faced with upon relaying their experience to the other Children of Chaos.

The Aizen claimed they saw no gratification in abandoning their sin. Neither did the Izanagi nor the Tsukiyomi. The Susanoo, envious of the two Kuchiki's happiness, rejected out of spite. And the Narukami were just too blindly outraged at their 'betrayal' to even voice an opinion.

As for the other Kuchiki, though they were only barely acceptant of the alteration the two had underwent, they outright refused relinquishing what they were.

Dismayed, the two Kuchiki, lost for words, withdrew to their home, rendered silent with worry and sadness, blaming themselves for being hasty and wondering where they'd go from there.

And things just went on from bad to worse when the Kuchiki, spurred by vicious vengeance, accompanied by the five other clans, sought out the Family responsible for the alteration, one all the Children of Chaos considered to be insulting, and, upon locating them, began slaying them, brutally and mercilessly decimating them. It was a chaotic disaster, a brutal slaughter...

The Family, though disinclined to futile violence, steadfastly stood their ground, striking back valiantly, using all they knew in defence, while the Children of Chaos rained down on them with unrelenting ruthlessness. They viewed this Family as a threat to their existence, and for that, they had to be wiped out.

The two cleansed Kuchiki were quick to hear of the cold, cruel carnage, much to their great horror, and hurried over to attempt reasoning their clan, only their words fell upon deaf ears. Appalled and ashamed, especially after apologizing to the Family who in turn did not blame them at all, they focused on the Witch of Pride - who had always been quite fond of the two - beseeching her aid in tears, begging her to lend a hand to those who they owed their lives to.

Moved by their sorrow, the witch bowed to their plea, drawing all the energy she could to cast a spell, one that was terrifying in nature and that would change everything from then on.

Taking from her own soul, from the two cleansed Kuchiki and from whom she could from the Family of saviours, the Witch of Pride created a hand-sized eerily ornate chest, one that could fit in the two palms of one's hands, while a violet shield sheltered her from incoming attacks.

Touching down, the witch then neared one of the Family's members and handed over the box, telling him to open it, right after she ended her incantation.

With his acknowledgement, the Witch of Pride uttered her enchantment, cursing the Children of Chaos with these words: "Hear me, Children of Chaos! Your rule, your reign, comes to an end as I speak! You shall no longer be, no longer breathe this air! You shall be forever gone, forever naught! Behold here, your downfall, the Box of Bedlam! Locked, it is no threat to you, but when unlocked, it will cause you pain beyond anything ever endured! You will suffer agony until your very last breath! Worse tenfold than the likes you could have inflicted upon all those you have ever harmed! And the box will only close when it deems that it is done and dealt with you! No Child of Chaos, no Pureblood, no Witch, no Hollow and no Soul other than the bloodline of this carrier here beside me, can ever lay a finger upon this chest! It cannot be destroyed, for its sole purpose, is your destruction!"

Rattled by a conjuring they had no time nor power to delay, the other five Witches present let out horrifyingly inhuman wails at the words spoken by the Witch of Pride, before they each hastened to achieve something for their respective clans before the Box of Bedlam opened.

The Witches of Lust and Envy each swiftly opened a magical portal to the Human World and, grabbing as many of the Aizen and the Susanoo as they could respectively, they hurriedly fled, uttering quick counter spells as they left: that those in a dimension other than the one where the box had been opened, would be untouched by its magic.

The Witches of Greed and Gluttony both cast spells on themselves to take the brunt of what the box would throw when unleashed. Whereas the Witch of Wrath, livid, charged straight for the Witch of Pride, throwing a hex at her, one that prevented her from then on forth to ever side by a Kuchiki again nor directly help them as a witch. The curse uttered by the Witch of Wrath instantly took effect causing the Witch of Pride to fade into thin air, right before the Family's member opened the Box of Bedlam...and all hell, literally, broke loose.

The pain and suffering promised by the Witch of Pride came down on the Children of Chaos like a storm of scorching ashes and a blizzard of burning glass, tearing deafening screams from the Kuchiki and the Narukami - in addition to the Susanoo and the Aizen who had been left behind - as they were the first to endure the curse, for they had not been protected nor evicted.

The next to fall victims to the curse were the children of Greed and Gluttony, though it didn't hit them straight away as their Witches took most of the toll, allowing a few of them to also run off to the Human World, before the Witches then both turned to dust, and then the curse struck the reminder of the Izanagi and Tsukiyomi.

True to the Witch of Pride's words, the Box of Bedlam, once opened, did not close until it was satisfied, drawing on the tortuous torment inflicted upon the Children of Chaos, powerless to do anything but endure. Their skin rotted like infected by a viral venom and cracked like dried earth, their blood gushed through the cuts, burning and turning to black, all while their entire bodies remained petrified where they stood, before, all on its own, the box sealed itself, the lid snapping shut and leaving nothing but a bloodbath in its wake, bodies dropped to the ground.

Distraught by the drastic measures taken by their witch and the loss of their family, but in a faint way relieved that the senseless bloodshed was over, the two Kuchiki once again offered their sincerest apologies and condolences to the Family, who once more saw no need in blaming them, despite having been significantly reduced in number: hardly any of them remained. And after the hollow and horrible violence ended, they were quick to disappear, never to be heard of or seen again...

Ridden with guilt, the two Kuchiki took it upon themselves to restore their world and make it a better place, and as they started to do so, they discover that the Shihoin, who come out of hiding after the tragic events had ensued, had encountered the family too and have also been aided by them to overcome their sin. Having learned a lot from the Family, including how to get rid of 'Hollows', the Shihoin join with the Kuchiki in their quest of betterment.

While constantly purging their hearts of their sin as to no longer fall for it, the two remaining two Kuchiki and the Shihoin Clan all renamed themselves, endorsing the title: 'Purebloods'. Together, they then decided on a rebirth for both their clans and their world, founding a new order with its own set of rules, determined to never let chaos ever again see the light of day.

However, shameful of all the evil deeds their clan committed as Children of Chaos, notably the near eradication of the Family of saviours, the two Kuchiki never kept record of their true heritage, neither theirs nor the Shihoin's, pride playing one last, but rather fatal, stunt.

In addition, given the Family's disappearance and the Box of Bedlam heeding only to their touch, the Purebloods cast the chest away where they believed no one would ever be able to get to it: deep down within the depths of Hell...

As for the Children of Chaos, they held a recurring habit of setting foot in the Human World, harnessing their sins into power for as long as they desired, and as such, only those who were there at the time the box was opened - in addition to the few who were saved by their Witch's sacrifice - were the only ones who survived the Box's curse.

When the remaining Children of Chaos returned from the Human World, they were greatly outnumbered, shocked by the revelation of what had occurred during their absence. Hunted down when they too refused to reject their corresponding sins, those who could flee, found themselves forced to hide and live in secrecy within the Rukongai, or simply return where they came from. In the end, the very few extant Children of Chaos vanished into thin air, exactly like the truth on the Kuchiki's origins...

And from then on, everything just moved on: past events were turned into legends and stories, before eventually becoming ancient history and then, being forgotten. Well, mostly forgotten...

Somewhere in the Human World, in a neighbouring town to Karakura, called Karigura (1), was a manor of grandiose stature, standing sublime upon the far edge of town, surrounded by finely trimmed hedges, they themselves guarded by massive ornate railings. A truly dazzling private property that drew long stares of awe and amazement of those who passed it by and not one of them thought it to be out of place or odd to look at, apart that it seemed in need of secrecy, for some unknown reason, as it was completely cut off from the nearby habitations...

Within it, somewhere up on the highest floors, lounged Aizen idly in a dimly lit room, rather contemplative, lost in his thoughts, before his gaze indolently flickered to the side, eyeing what he had gotten from Jikoku, one that was brought to him from the farthest depths of Hell.

"The Box of Bedlam..." uttered the immortal as he traced every contour, every detail with his dark brown eyes for, though he knew of its history, he had never seen it before "Now the risks you feared have been reduced, haven't they, Manter?"

The witch, ever so faithfully by his side, her arms wrapped closely around him while she stared hard at the box, her mismatched eyes laced with disdain and a certain level of distress before she let out a quiet breath: "In a way, but it remains an ambiguity, as your downfall is not quite yet avoided, for what I see has not yet changed. That thing being in your possession does however lessen the risks of it being turned against you. Particularly with the riddance of that 'Family', as they were the only ones able to wield it. Not only that, but given what you have in mind for the Kuchiki's clan leader, if you succeed, I doubt anyone would be ready to lose him, his family especially."

The child of chaos smirked knowingly at that: "No one would be willing to lose that dear little thing. Byakuya is, in a way, the emblematic epitome of the Seireitei, their utmost asset and greatest weakness. Therefore, I'll completely rob them of him, and do so in such a way, they'll no longer be able to lay their eyes on him without a sentiment of revulsion."

"And all this simply for the sake of your precious Doll" sighed Manter resignedly, before commenting reproachfully "Your infatuation for her is rather startling, given all the lengths you would go through for her."

Aizen remained quiet for a moment before speaking up again, his tone of voice soft, solemn: "I may be a being incapable of love, Manter, free of its fragility and sickness, but I do remain bound by certain feelings, certain emotions, certain vices, all which no amount of self-control could ever fully subdue. I can repress them, but not suppress them, and this is what makes us - me - so inclined to cause chaos..."

The Witch of Lust had no argument to counter the immortal's words, so after a brief moment of silence, she inquired softly, changing subject: "You despise the Kuchiki, do you not?"

The immortal raised an eyebrow, tone now filled to the brim with resentment despite its calm: "A mild understatement. I thought the extent of my loathing of the Kuchiki was clear."

Mismatched blue eyes met dark brown ones, gazing within them searchingly: "But it does not extend to the clan leader's father, does it?"

Aizen's dark demeanour immediately lessened, relaxed: "Sojun is the only one I have always tolerated. Him and him only. Thus, I long decided to let him be. Out of leniency, mercy... Call it what you will."

"Yet here you are, utterly and relentlessly about to debase his single son, entirely willing to torture and humiliate him until he breaks, giving you the advantage you need" she pointed out with a straight face, though the jest in her tone was rather palpable "How considerate of you."

Chuckling at her sarcasm, the immortal smirked dimly: "Had I no sentiments for Sojun, he'd be the one who would have to endure this to get back to that old fool. Besides, it would pain the latter further since Ginrei favours Byakuya more than he does his own son. And this ever since I had Sojun fall for me."

"Does he really, actually, love you, Aizen-sama?"

"He does" confirmed Aizen with a smile, before it tightened, his features now faintly pained "And I do believe that is one of the rare things I could ever regret."

Here, the Witch of Lust was intrigued, for though she was aware that the immortal had had a relationship with the other, she wasn't that aware of its depth: "How so?"

"Of all the Kuchiki, Sojun will definitely be the hardest to get rid of. And I honestly can't see myself doing the deed" he confessed contritely, before he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, whereas Manter watched him, feeling his stress coming off him in waves. Hence her silence, as she did not wish to add any further pressure upon him, knowing what the true issue straining Aizen was: he found himself but a couple rooms away from his obstinate obsession.

Patting the immortal's head gently with slender, spider-like fingers, the witch smiled softly: "Think of it this way, Aizen-sama. Who do you hold to your heart more: Sojun-kun or Doll-sama?"

Although a wistful smile touched his lips, the child of chaos didn't even hesitate as he uttered the name of the one person he knew he could not live without, no matter what befell: "Doll."

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Almond shaped eyes peered through the darkness, looking beyond the wildlife that shadowed him, his stare never leaving the golden-blonde haired girl sitting ahead in the clearing, her back turned to him, her focus riveted on the ripples she was creating on a wet patch of water with gentle taps of her fairy-like fingers.

He had been watching her for quite some time, her and the boy who was always by her side, too frail to protect her, too flippant to love her, and yet, just faithful enough to lay down and die for her. Speaking of the boy in question, here he came, sprinting forwards and out of breath, a smile to his lips that only broadened as the girl, upon seeing him, waved at him.

Tripping gauchely as he aimed to sit down next to her, he then held out his hand towards her for her to see, as he spoke breathlessly, his voice sweet and melodic, very nearly feminine: "Look. I got you an apple."

Her crystal blue eyes became as round as the average-sized green fruit her friend held, near unable to believe that it was real, poking at it just to make sure: "Whoa! Those are so rare. How'd you get it?"

"Yeah. About that," smiled the boy, looking half-smug, half-embarrassed as he ran a hand through his azure-coloured hair "Truth is...I kind of, sort of, maybe...stole it."

Soft amber eyes locked with crystal blue, anxious that his friend might reprimand him, but he soon relaxed when she merely shook her head at him with a raised eyebrow, before she went back to admiring the apple, wondering how it tasted.

Realizing that she was only delaying discovering its flavour, she readied herself to cut it in two, positing her hands around it to pry it open into two equal portions: "Let's share it."

"No need, silly. I already ate mine on the way here," the boy said, quickly stopping her from dividing the fruit "It's all for you."

"Are you sure?" she asked with insistence, eyes narrowed at him searchingly. She knew the trade some around the area set in play, as she herself had done so once or twice: pretending to have already eaten when they hadn't, just so the other wouldn't starve. A selfless sacrifice.

In response to her inquiry, he stared at her with a deadpan expression, hoping to convey his honesty, leading her to grin at him and bite in, savouring the juicy fruit: "Thank you, Len."

"Anytime!" offered the boy with a beaming smile, which was so contagious she could only return it, before they spontaneously threw each other a challenge to see who could make the largest grin.

It was quick to end in aching jaws and hysterics, before a sudden, subtle noise, that had sounded like the shuffling of feet in the grass, coming from behind them drew their focus, so they quickly stood to full attention, scrutinizing watchfully their surroundings.

"What was that?" she whispered softly, eyes wide with curiosity as she took a step forward.

"Careful, Ran," cautioned the other just as quietly, hand reaching out to halt her from taking another step "Someone's coming."

That had her instantly stop in her tracks. Out here in the Rukongai, as a child or as a woman, no matter how experienced they were in fighting or fleeing, they remained utterly defenceless. Especially, if they were children.

The shrubs ahead rustled for a moment, prior to, after a slight pause, a little head framed with neat, short silver hair came peeking out prudently, cautiously looking around before his calm gaze met those of the two other children in front of him, causing the girl to relax.

"Oh, it's ok. It's just a boy. Nothing to worry about."

"I'd worry though, Ran" contradicted her friend quietly, eyeing the other quite warily as he was totally deterred by this child's eyes which seemed so cold, so deadly "Just look at him. It's as though he's going to bite us, eat us up and then just spit out our bones."

"Be nice" the girl whispered back reprovingly as she elbowed her friend, before walking over towards the newcomer, stopping two steps away from him and smiling warmly "Hi."

The silver-haired boy stayed silent at first, his serene and shielded expression unchanged, before he grinned pleasantly: "Hello."

"I'm Rangiku, and this is Len. What's your name?" asked the golden blonde-haired girl upon introducing herself and her friend who, compared to her, refused to come any closer.

"My name is Gin. Gin Ichimaru. Nice to meet you both" greeted the silver-haired boy with a faint inclination of his head, his features softened to pleasantness, despite the fact that his eyes, from Len's point of view, remained frozen, still, inaccessible, dangerous. There was something about this boy that set the blue-haired completely on edge.

"Cool. Wanna be friends with us?" offered Rangiku sweetly all of a sudden, as she extended her hand towards Gin, taking the latter aback and horrifying her friend due to the fact that she didn't seem to share his distrust.

She had decided that she liked this new boy, and this was coming from the one amidst the two to usually be very picky when it came to trusting another. It was just that she found herself inexplicably drawn to the other, sensing something within him worth of interest, and she had absolutely no way to explain it any better than that...

The silver-haired boy hesitated for a moment, before he smiled a fraction wider with sincerity and the ice in his eyes finally, though very briefly, melted to reveal a profound solitude as he returned Rangiku's handshake: "I'd love to."

Sweet fresh water to his dehydrated lips rose Gin from his coma-like state, drowning down the reviving liquid greedily, wetting his parched throat, all without yet opening his eyes, still not yet fully awake.

According to his ailing physical and mental state, the flow hydrating him came to a halt far too quickly, and it caused him to blearily attempt to open his eyes as to understand the reason. Eyelids heavy, eyesight blurry, it took quite some time for the silver-haired man to make out the one kneeling beside him and readying yet another cup of fresh water.

Everyone by now knew of the silver-haired man's current condition, as Rangiku had alerted them and Aizen had previously made it quite clear that he wanted Gin dead, so given that any more losses couldn't be afforded, attending to him became one of their priorities. Every time they could, someone amongst the enslaved would secretly come over and try to maintain him alive. Water, sustenance, a little kido, anything they could do and all they were able to obtain.

So far, the silver-haired man had been visited by Rangiku twice, Hiyori - surprisingly enough - four times, as it was easy for her to pass by unnoticed, and now it was Kisuke's turn.

"Are you alright?" the latter asked, as he carefully brushed away stray silver strands to have easy access to the man's forehead and set there a small drenched towel. The bound man's skin was burning hot, near scalding, and despite that, Gin was shivering, teeth clattering.

The sandy blonde shinigami frowned uneasily. The 3rd Division's captain wasn't getting any better, point in fact, he was getting worse at an alarmingly fast rate. He and the others had to find a way to smuggle Unohana over quickly or Gin would die for sure.

"Been through worse" whispered Gin, his voice too unused and raspy to be any louder "What of you? I heard that Aizen hasn't exactly been kind towards you either."

"You've had it harsher" waved away Kisuke, before shrugging under the other's insistent stare "He believes that I know something he should be aware of."

"And do you?"

Nearing a little in case there were any prying ears nearby, Kisuke considerably reduced the tone of his voice to utter: "Kenpachi Zaraki lives."

This led the silver-haired man to snort, not that surprised to hear that the hulking behemoth was still amidst them. He had been surprised before when there were these rumours circling that the 11th Division's captain was amongst the deceased. It just didn't make sense to him that a soul as imposing and impossible as Kenpachi was to suddenly up and disappear. There were some Gin just simply couldn't imagine dead, the 11th Division's captain included.

"And how do you know?" asked the 3rd Division's captain, still careful not to raise his voice.

The 12th Division's captain considered the terrible state of the bound man, before grimacing sympathetically: "I'd elucidate in detail, but I don't believe your current condition will allow you to be receptive to any explanations right now."

"You're absolutely damn right" uttered Gin caustically, making the sandy blonde chuckle.

"To make it simple, I've been contacted by Ururu-chan and Jinta-kun through an advanced telepathic invention of mine, and they informed me that we have Kenpachi, Yachiru, Hanatarou, Rin, Rikichi and Misaki back in my workshop" said Kisuke slowly, pausing to let the other absorb the information before carrying on when Gin nodded slightly "Besides, not long after that, Nemu - I mean, Neveromina - told me herself sub rosa. She's truly on our side apparently. Kurostuchi's final enactment, I'm guessing, though I have no clue how."

A brief silence instilled itself between the two men, both with diverging thoughts, before Gin questioned: "So, is that good news or not? For those back in Karakura?"

"Yes and no. They're all safer there than here, obviously, but they can't come to our aid when it will be time for us to move."

"Unless you add the repair of the Senkaimon to your to-do-list for the upcomin' rebellion."

Kisuke shook his head slowly, wearily, all of a sudden looking far older: "It's not that easy."

"Nothin' is" stated the silver-haired man, before he frowned in slight confusion "Tell me, how are they safe? Not that they'll be better here, given our predicament, true, but still. If Aizen's Espada go patrolin' there, they'll sense them, no?"

That had the 12th Division's captain smirk cunningly: "Actually, no. After the 6th Espada, along with his Fraccion, came hunting for Ichigo-kun awhile back and Ururu-chan almost got killed, I set up a protective barrier over my workshop. It shields anyone within it, making it appear as though the house uninhabited."

"Clever" mentioned the other, before he closed his eyes and smiled softly "Funny how people change, huh?"

"Yep" agreed the sandy blonde with raised eyebrows, keeping in mind to not exert the bound man too much and yet unable to put a halt to their discussion "Grimmjow went from wanting to kill Ichigo-kun, to fully siding with him. Honestly didn't see that coming."

"Truthfully, Grimmjow never really was a bad guy" confessed Gin quietly, his delirious, unwell mind wandering away from the conversation briefly as a voice in his head jutted in 'He just had his freewill stolen by Aizen, like so many others did, includin' me back then'.

Kisuke stared at the other, surprised by the comment, before shrugging once: "I have no way to argue on that. By the way, Ichimaru-san..."

"Go ahead."

"Where do you think Aizen took Ichigo-kun and Kuchiki-san?"

A dim, deep frown immediately crossed the silver-haired man's features, although his reply took a little longer to be made known: "I'm not sure."

"But you do have an inkling, right?" pointed out the sandy blonde accurately, aware of the other's abrupt unease and knew it wasn't a happenstance.

"Not a good one, believe me. If I know Aizen like I think I do, he's takin' them to one of those places he owns in the Human World."

Here, Kisuke frowned faintly, both curious and confused: "And...what's wrong with that?"

"The Human World is where he harnesses the most the sin he incarnates" revealed the 3rd Division's captain, before he paused significantly and gave the other a meaningful look "Do you know what he is and does there?"

"I don't think I want to know" muttered the 12th Division's captain as he closed his eyes and ran a hand upon his tired features, not even wanting to imagine what the other was implying.

"No, you really don't" stated Gin inaudibly, before his mind reminded him of someone he just couldn't forget 'Len. Forgive me for sayin' this but...I hope Ran-chan never remembers you. Because, if she remembers you, then she'll know, recall the horrible things I've done to you'.

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Out on the burning golden sands garnishing the inside of Las Noches, Ichigo Kurosaki and Grimmjow Jeagerjaques were caught up in a vividly heated combat, whilst Orihime and little Nel stood by and watched anxiously, hands clutched to their chests, fingers crossed.

Both with their fair share of wounds, the two battling each other - one harbouring his Hollow mask and Bankai form, the other wearing his Resurrección form - had come to a halt, aiming to catch their breaths, staring watchfully at one another as they did so, staying on high alert.

Tail flicking with irritation, Grimmjow shook his head and clicked his tongue, before baring his teeth at the battered teenager: "Don't look at me like that. It's always the same with you. No matter how much I beat you down, no matter what I make you go through, you always act as if you'll win, and I'm sick of it."

With that being said, the Espada charged straight for his foe, long black claws at the ready.

"...Sick of what?" panted out the Shinigami Substitute tauntingly as he swiftly evaded the other's blows, grinning manically due to the Hollow mask devouring a scarce part of his face "Sick of a human acting as your equal?"

Ichigo's smugness was quickly cut short as he wasn't able to dodge an unrelenting kick that sent him crashing into one of the surrounding red pillars that were planted in the gold sands. As the orange-haired teen struggled back to his feet, the blue-haired feline stood in the distance, expression just as distant whilst speaking with a detached yet steady tone: "That... I completely don't give a heck about that. I don't care if you're a fuckin' Human, a Shinigami or an Arrancar. All I care about, is getting rid of all those who think themselves above me!"

At that time, the teenager hadn't grasped what the blue-haired feline had meant. It was only later, way later, long after the War, and well after his coma, during his healing back at home in Karakura, with Grimmjow in his company, that he finally understood the other's words.

The blue-haired feline had been driven, particularly due to the Hogyoku's influence, to desire overcoming anyone who attempted to stand in his way, only because being in Aizen's hands had reduced him to nothing. Hence, not ever wanting to go through that again, the former Arrancar had wished to become stronger than anyone else out there, daring to challenge him.

Walking down the streets and concealed from the Human eye, alongside Byakuya Kuchiki and Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, with the Cuatro Espada a few paces ahead guiding them along the way, Ichigo Kurosaki was dead quiet, apprehension consuming him, sadness engulfing him, both consistently growing, with every step taken.

The orange-haired teenager, ever since what had lately transpired between him and the other two within Las Noches, had been attempting to come to terms with the fact that Aizen did not have principled plans for the three of them and that more were bound to happen, whether he or anyone else liked it or not, only he couldn't find it in himself to be ready for them to occur.

Coupled with the coerced separation from his family and the losses of his friends, Ichigo was an emotional wreck, and would've been in a far worse state had he been alone in this horror. And though he was forcing himself to hide his feelings, the teen's distress was easily sensed by those walking next to him, and one of them decided to react on it, lest it turned damaging.

"You'll be fuckin' fine, kid" uttered Grimmjow in a soothing tone, going back to openly and genuinely expressing his concern for the teenager now that the immortal wasn't around.

Not expecting anyone to speak, the Shinigami Substitute startled faintly, brown eyes widening despite them remaining glued to the ground, before he frowned and bit his lip: "How can you be so sure?"

The blue-haired feline wordlessly arched an eyebrow as he glanced at the orange-haired from out of the corner of his eye. He had had felt the heavy dread and despair coming off the other in waves, but he hadn't thought that it was as drastic to this extent.

He could hear it loud and clear in the other's voice. It was as if the sixteen-year-old teenager was steadily shattering to pieces. And like hell he'd let that happen.

"You fuckin' have me, remember?"

"Is that really going to make a difference, Grimmjow?"

This time, the Shinigami Substitute looked straight at the other in the eye, and the former Arrancar saw that hope was nothing more than the fading light of a flickering candle within those young eyes. It wasn't much, but to the feline, there was more than enough to salvage.

"That's what you've kept telling me, no?" reminded the blue-haired gently, while inwardly remarking on how ironic it was for him to be telling the teen this, he who kept warning the other from trusting him. Not that he was asking to be trusted, but rather, in this case, believed.

Ichigo didn't say anything for a moment, before he then nodded slowly and looked away, but did not seem convinced for a second: "I guess."

The orange-haired teenager's eyes widened when a sudden, firm tug to his hand halted him in his steps, causing him to swiftly turn around and come face to face with vivid, deep blue eyes peering deep within his own.

"Look on the bright side, kid. Your family and friends are danger free. Isn't that what you've always been fighting for?"

He didn't need the other to confirm he was correct. He knew he was, and he knew that the teen knew he was right, too.

As such, the young Shinigami Substitute didn't contradict him, looking away again instead, but he didn't break free from the other's hold, the other's touch, inwardly reassured and yet deterred by it. It felt familiar and foreign to him at the same time, bringing back recent memories from Las Noches, far too recent to forget...

Blushing lightly, the teen shivered at them - with what, he did not know - but he tried to redirect his focus on the fact that, so far, Grimmjow had always been supportive, concerned and dedicated towards him, despite not willing to admit to all that. Not only that, but the former Arrancar had, on his own, without anyone telling him, made a promise to Ichigo and...

"Besides, like I promised you, you ever need me, I'll be there for you in any way I can" said the blue-haired decidedly all of a sudden, whispering this truth near the young teenager's ear.

A small but warm smile touched Ichigo's lips at the feline's staunch words, knowing for sure that he meant them, before he locked gazes again with the other, whispering gratefully as he wrapped his hand closed around Grimmjow's: "Thank you."

Imitating the teenager's gesture and adding a reassuring squeeze of his own, the blue-haired feline nodded with a faint grin: "Anytime."

"When will you two actually realize that neither optimism nor hope has any room for us?"

Both the Shinigami Substitute and the former Arrancar turned towards the Clan's leader, only to find him throwing them a severe, if not reproachful look, and according to Grimmjow's perspective, it seemed as though Byakuya was glaring hard and directly, at their joined hands.

Needless to say, the former Arrancar was instantly put off, both by the Kuchiki's words and look in his grey eyes: "And what the fuck's your problem?"

"Our situation is not to be taken as lightly as you're doing. Try and recall our predicament, the both of you" reprimanded the noble sternly, his frame tense, his features harsh and his words sharp as he aimed whatever his problem was at the blue-haired feline "Aizen Sosuke owns us now, and there's very little - if not nothing - we can do to change that fact. Not me, not him, not anyone else and certainly not you, no matter the amount of confidence you have."

As Ichigo's face fell dangerously and paled, Grimmjow raged furiously, but forced himself to remain collected, trying to keep in mind that the Kuchiki noble was the brother to one of the teen's closest friends, so punching his face in was a big no-no.

The Shinigami Substitute was already apprehensive and anxious, he needn't be angry too.

Blue eyes narrowing, the former Arrancar spoke through tightly clenched teeth, an irked sneer to his lips: "You couldn't have been just a little more fuckin' delicate about this, could you?"

"No point in embellishing the ugly truth with pretty lies" retorted the dark-haired male coolly.

"That's Aizen's game, not yours. Unless you suddenly want to fuckin' become like him, hm?"

If the blue-haired feline hadn't previously ever been aware of a given method to rile the noble, he certainly knew now.

"Don't you ever compare me to him" seethed Byakuya lethally, darkened anger flaring openly upon his features, knuckles turned white from his tightly clenched fists, as though he too, was struggling to keep his hands to himself.

Grimmjow was about to throw the other an even meaner comeback, but as Ichigo, with taut concern in his expression, gently touched his arm, the former Arrancar reigned himself in, altering his choice of words from insults to reprimands: "Tch. Then what? Your words were totally fuckin' uncalled for. I ain't fuckin' dumb, I know what's waiting. But if I can handle it and maybe you can, that doesn't mean he can. Not yet anyway."

Grey eyes flitted over to the teenager's features and the noble faltered a little at what he saw there, but he did find himself saying one last blunt severity: "He'll have to eventually."

The former Arrancar stared hard at the dark-haired male, trying to decipher what the heck was the matter with the other while attempting piece back recent events, before something clicked, despite its absurdity: "Are you fuckin' jealous of Kurosaki or something, that it?"

"G-Grimmjow! The hell?!"

The Kuchiki's eyes widened an imperceptible fraction before it was gone the next second and the noble looked away, muttering under his breath: "Don't be ridiculous."

Not that the Clan's leader would admit to it, but Grimmjow, however, was dead-right spot on.

Inane and unwarranted as it was, Byakuya was a little jealous, a little envious of the fact that when overwrought or overwhelmed, the feline had the impeccable ability to appease all the teenager's troubles, washing them away in barely seconds by just being there for him.

The noble was in no way asking for the same treatment, no, nor was he saying that the teen didn't deserve the break the other was offering him so willingly and easily.

It was that he simply couldn't comprehend whatever bond these two very different individuals had, nor could he understand how it ever came to be. At first, the Clan's leader had found it a little odd, then he had been faintly awed by it, but now, he was slightly exasperated by its existence. He did realize that he was being all bitter about it when it wasn't his place to judge, but he just couldn't help it.

Worse, Byakuya felt somewhat left out, and by the time he noted that in fact he shouldn't at all be bothered by such a feat, he had already opened his mouth and spoken his acerbic words.

Now a certain amount of guilt was gnawing at him given that he was responsible for the strain reappearing on the teen's features right when the feline had just managed to smooth it away. The Kuchiki forcibly ignored the dark glare he was receiving on the former Arrancar's part, in favour of focusing on the youngest amongst them, wishing to repair the damage accidently inflicted upon the latter, but Byakuya didn't have time to, as the Cuatro Espada chose that very instant to speak up.

"It's not very far now" said Ulquiorra Schiffer blankly, glancing over his shoulder to where the other three had halted in their footsteps before he then carried on walking, knowing that they had no other choice but follow.

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On a beautiful, wintry evening night in the middle of Japan, sometime within the year 1885, an air of festivity touched every inhabitant of the country, dividing itself equally amidst the rich and the not-so-rich, all taking part to the high, happy and rather jolly spirit of festivities.

As the not-so-rich and the poor danced around jovially down in the streets, the rich partied upon higher grounds, up on the richly decorated open-plane roof tops under sparkling lights.

And in the middle of this very large crowd, diligently apart from all within it, stood Aizen Sosuke, leaning his back against the open balcony, arms crossed upon a rigid formal-clad frame, features incredibly indifferent, dark brown eyes distances away from his surroundings.

It was clear that he did not want to be here at all, that much was understood by everyone who dared to glance, and those who thought themselves to be brave enough to attempt to talk to him, were simply coldly ignored, leading them to walk away, chills going down their backs.

Genuinely bored out of his mind, Aizen let out a long sigh before straightening himself further and letting his gaze wander around aimlessly, forcing himself to remember that, whilst it was true that he did not belong, it wasn't really like he could go or be anywhere else.

He had been running back and forth between the Soul Society and the Human World, seeking stability, a reason to stay put, but nothing seemed to enchant him anymore. Not even revenge.

His guardian demon, Manter, the Witch of Lust, had given him more than he had ever learnt, raising his potential to an astronomical degree, heightening his abilities to a vivid sharpness and lethalness, but even so, Aizen had no motivation for vengeance.

To what end would his avenging lead? The dead would not applaud him, nor would the living congratulate him. And what if it was just in his name, for his sake? He'd like to believe that he wasn't that shallow. Besides, even if he were to triumph, which was quite unlikely given his current state of mind, he had experienced more hardships than anyone else from his clan had ever had to endure, between the demise and losses of cherished ones and the deeds he himself had committed without restraint. He was not seeking salvation, mind you, he did not need it, for he was far above that after all. But he was seeking. And he had yet to know what that was, though a part of him was asking, begging for some sort of closure. Of a well-needed ending...

During his exodus, he had met others not quite like him, but still sharing a certain similarity. They proved helpful in their differences and dependable in their likenesses, but the main idea was, they had pulled away from the unsafe aspect of their origins, preferring to create chaos within the weak hearts of men rather than stand up to the souls of the Soul Society's soldiers.

Aizen had to admit that he did not see himself do the same, but he did accept to give it a try, see where it would lead.

So here he was, mingling amidst humans, some of the most depressing, dull and vain people one could find within the world of Mankind, and he was regretting every single second of it... Until a particular figure caught Aizen's eye, not because he was looking but rather because something about her had suddenly drawn his attention, and he had yet to comprehend why.

Just like him, she stood apart, this young girl with the quaint appearance of a porcelain doll - delicate yet not frail, cute yet not innocent - effortlessly standing out and aside from the endless flock of individuals chatting away and frolicking about aimlessly, their laughter artificial, their nods mechanical, their expressions non-natural.

Sipping her glass of wine in silence, she regarded them all, out of the corner of her eye, with spiteful scorn, which was heavily coated within a thick layer, and a rather odd combination, of icy apathy and scorching anger. It was as though she passionately loathed everyone and everything that crossed her eyesight, wishing for them to all burn to ashes and dust, and yet, at the same time, she appeared to be entirely and utterly detached by what surrounded her...

Aizen gazed at her with a hint of interest. He didn't even know such a combination was likely, other than for him and a couple of other people he knew, that is. Cold, dark eyes laced with contempt and transcendence, whilst being as distant as though one was worlds far apart from all and everyone, and despite that, being just as deeply immersed in life. Like gods dwelling high above, looking and seldom intervening below.

Truly fascinating.

Ditching his personal philosophies for tonight and acting on mere impulse, or probably out of sheer curiosity, Aizen opted upon talking to her, gradually moving towards her from through the crowd, ignoring those who called out to him, dodging those who reached for him.

Finally getting to her location, the brown-haired man parted his lips to engage her within a conversation, choosing a banal topic that was certain to make any first encounter unruffled: "Lovely night, isn't it?"

Her large, pretty eyes widened as she slowly turned her attention towards him, as if taken aback that someone would actually be brave enough to address her, given the unforthcoming demeanour she upheld so no one would dare approach her. All those who passed her by were allowed but a fleeting glance, and nothing more.

She assessed him carefully, fully, from head to toe, taking all her time to dissect him with her penetrating gaze, testing if he wasn't troubled or intimidated by her scrutinizing, critical eyes. And he wasn't.

So, in a gesture of faint esteem, she dropped her mask and her face softened, eyes twinkling with intrigue and lips curving up into a sweet, mischievous smile as she uttered with flaunted, hyperbolic tedium, in a tone of voice that was sweet and somewhat childish: "Not really, no."

Unreservedly riveted by the total change her expression had underwent in barely seconds, it took a moment for the brown-haired to register that she had actually answered him: "Oh? How so?"

Making a show of sighing theatrically, the young girl, smile turned to smirk, nodded in the direction of the orchestra playing for the evening, her gesture aimed directly at the woman singing in middle: "It'd be truly lovely if somebody actually had the audacity to admit out loud that that singing is dreadful."

Of all the replies he had expected, a complaint involving the cold, chilly weather, or boredom, or really just having a bad time in general, this had not been one of them.

It sounded so mundane, yet at the same time so outlandish, that it threw the other totally off, causing him to blink repeatedly as his gaze flitted between her and the singer, trying to decipher the meaning of her response whilst finding the time to comment abstractedly: "It's not that bad."

"Oh, it is" she contradicted sweetly, before she threw an unequivocally disgusted, yet rather comical, look in the singer's direction "She's basically caterwauling."

The young girl's mordant bluntness had Aizen laughing - laughing genuinely, not chuckling, a rather rare feat truth to be told - before he went and quirked an eyebrow at her: "You clearly are not afraid to speak your mind."

"Nothing to be afraid of" she smiled sweetly as she gingerly raised her glass back to her lips and batted her eyelashes prettily at the dark brown-haired man, leading him to smirk in turn.

One conversation leading to another, neither felt the time pass them by as they indulged from small talk to questions and answers to utterly random exchanges, neither willing to pull away, an immediate and undeniable spark of attraction heavy within the air surrounding the two.

The young girl seemed to enjoy the attention, and Aizen was simply too absorbed to put their dialogue to an end. There was a detail in particular that kept him rather flabbergasted, quite flustered and slightly frustrated at the same.

He made it a firm habit to be able to read people or, even by taking things a notch further, accurately anticipate what they would say or do. He did like being surprised every now and then, true, but this was the first time, in his entire existence, that he couldn't guess what this young girl would do or say next. Just like the hazard of a Russian roulette, she was utterly and completely unpredictable, not even her eyes could be read, a thin veil within them fully concealing her emotions, the latter finding room only to flicker faintly upon her features.

Unpredictability was not something the brown-haired man was used to, or rather it was something he did not really sit well with. Aizen preferred having all planned for ahead, with multiple back-up plans and loopholes that he could use to his advantage, and this applied to everything he encountered.

However, this girl's erratic volatility was not unpleasant, far from it. It was rather intriguing, fascinating, enthralling, and Aizen, for once, in spite of being acutely aware of the many jeopardies that were highly likely to follow, didn't want to pull away.

Because for once, it wasn't he who was pushing another into the depths of desire. He was the one going through it.

He was lusting, madly, for this young girl he barely knew, and, no matter the reason he came up with to explain this sudden impulse she had implanted within him, he couldn't comprehend why. It was normally he who incarnated lust, drew others into it. He should not be a victim here. And yet, he was drowning beneath torrents and waves of unthinkable and unbearable desire, barely able to restrain himself, barely able to keep his mind clear, barely able to think.

"Hmm" she hummed gently all of a sudden, breaking the other out of his rather disconcerting thoughts and leading him to realize that he had actually been staring at her rather intently, and probably rather intensely too.

Clearing his throat, he forced himself to calm down while swiftly offering her a charming smile, hoping to erase whatever expression he had been wearing prior: "What is it?"

With two slender and delicate fingers tapping gently at her chin in thought, the young girl contemplated again the brown-haired man in front her, paying further attention to his face this time, before she uttered candidly: "Now that I'm really looking at you, I'd say you're rather good-looking."

Again, her straightforward spontaneity took Aizen completely aback whilst also managing to momentarily flush out his impure and stifling thoughts, before he then chuckled quietly and if one were paying close attention, they would have sworn to have a seen a brief, impalpable blush: "My. How bold of you."

"I speak my mind, remember?" she grinned cheekily with a soft whisper to her voice, an abrupt yet faint breeze causing her long strands to slightly billow around her, caressing the lines of her porcelain features as they did so, and Aizen went incredibly still, feeling as though the heart he had and took for granted, had just skipped a beat.

And so, he decided there and then, that whatever unclear and unfamiliar sentiment he was experiencing for this girl, no matter how unethical and unprincipled it felt or seemed, or how damned he'd be in the end, he'd accept any consequences if meant being able to be with her.

Smoothing out his features once more, Aizen asked gently, though his dark brown eyes shone with an unnatural light: "Could you honour me with your name, young maiden?"

Noticing the sudden change in the other with a perplexed blink, there was a very slight hint of qualm for a moment in her eyes before it was gone the next, with her smiling playfully at him: "Only if, in turn, you'll give me yours, my good sir."

Eyes softening, he effortlessly nodded at her with an inviting smile: "Certainly."

"Very well then. My names is-"

The singer chose that very moment to end her melody for the night and in response the crowd applauded abundantly, causing an uproar of clapping, cheering and whistling, nothing but wild, endless noise that completely drowned out the rest of the young girl's words.

Slightly startled, Aizen winced and glared faintly at the excited crowd, before raising his tone a little as he voiced apologetically to the girl: "My apologies, I didn't quite heard you. Would it be alright if I took your hand to draw you closer?"

As he held out a hand towards her, once again, she did what he did not expect. She hesitated.

Given that her face had abruptly become unreadable and blank except for a faint frown, Aizen had absolutely no idea if the reason for her hesitance was just an aversion to touch or a simple caution towards a stranger.

Just as he was about to reassure her that he meant her no harm, she looked straight into his eyes, and whatever Aizen had been about to say was totally robbed away from him, leaving his mind as if the words had never been there in the first place. Of all the heavily guarded eyes he had encountered, never had he been able to read ones as easily as he was currently reading hers.

The main reason, of course, was because she was allowing him, but what he saw, slightly unsettled him, which quite honestly was a first for him. Unsettled not because it was ghastly or dreadful or the like, but rather because its brutal honesty was intimidating, a threat in a way. The meaning of what her soul was screaming stridently as a blaring warning through her eyes, despite the utter stillness and silence of her entire being, was clear as crystal. It said: 'I don't trust easily. I don't love easily. But if I do, if I open up to someone, I will give more than I receive, cherish more than I am loved. But betray me, in any way I deem to be a betrayal, and no wrath tasted before will be bitter than mine.'

With her threat out wide in the open, she observed him carefully, watchfully, like a predator waiting to strike, waiting for his falsehoods, waiting for his fear, waiting for him to flee. But instead of backing away, of retreating, of leaving and leaving for good, a subtle but solemn air of understanding crossed his features and, not uttering a word, he merely held out his hand further for her to take, his stance strong, unwavering, hoping to convey his sincerity.

A silent beat rang out, as the two silently stared at each other, and then, ever so slowly, she gracefully reached out a dainty hand to touch his, with these words tentatively escaping her lips, her significant sentence a reply to his previous request of permission: "I permit you."

As their bare hands connected, all of a sudden, a particular tingling sensation, like a static shock, ran through them, touching every inch of their being, leading both to stare at each other in a new light, now instantly aware of who the other was, with him gaping at her in disbelief and awe, and her eyeing him with despair and alarm.

Now, they knew that, after all the years he had been seeking her kind and her all this time she had been fleeing his kind, it was currently absolutely certain that neither could be with each other, couldn't be together. There was just no way. Their respective lineage decreed it. It was in their blood.

She knew that, he knew that, but unlike her who sought to pull away and flee, he didn't budge, refusing to let her slip through his fingers as his hold tightened to a frightening degree, his hand locked around hers in an iron grip, like a manacle of unrelenting steel.

"Let me go" she called out firmly yet with a hint of desperation, her voice but a warning whisper lost in the applause, as she vividly attempted to free herself "It will only end badly if you don't."

Acting as though he did not hear her, the brown-haired man swiftly tugged her towards him, causing her to collide into him, her face to his chest, before he then wrapped his arms around her securely, pinning her against him in a caging embrace.

"Now that I have my hands on you?" voiced Aizen smoothly, a sly smirk slowly stretching over his features in a chillingly ominous way, whilst she froze and paled significantly as she realized the double entendre ringing out in the air "I think not."

After being cast in a prolonged state of lethargic and idle slumber, Aizen Sosuke felt revived, determined, finally set to go back to his quest of revenge, now with a valid reason to kill (2)...

Large, pretty magenta eyes cast a lethargic, jaded and rather apathetic gaze outside, looking without really seeing as four figures neared the entrance further down beyond the vicinity of the lavishly clad room which she was in, leaning lax against the window frame, arms crossed.

Dark pink-dyed lips parted to let out a deep, quite audible sigh, before she leaned her forehead straight upon the impeccably clean glass of the window pane in front of her, erroneously assuming that she knew exactly what those people were: "And it's not even fuckin' night yet. Hopeless, worthless scum with nothing better to do with their fuckin' lives."

She heard the door behind her open gently all of a sudden and was quick to frown in irritation.

Still staring out the window, she kept her back towards whoever it was that had just arrived, not even gracing them with a glance, as she spoke up from between clenched teeth, her tone of voice hostile and harsh, despite the overall timbre having a sweet and somewhat childish undertone: "Whoever it is, I'm not in the fuckin' mood. There are least eight more hours or so before sunset, so leave me the fuck alone till then. Now, get the fuck out or so help you, I'll-"

"Hello again, my sweet, lovely Doll."

Going fully rigid, she didn't even bother turn around, knowing exactly who stood behind her.

A sudden intense inferno was set ablaze in her gradually widening eyes as she uttered slowly, lethalness upon her tongue and envenomed hatred etched deep within her voice: "Sosuke..."

Next Update: A Horrifying Reality (Chapter 1).

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(1) In the Bleachverse, we know only of Karakura and that place where Keigo lives, a town starting with 'n', I believe (forgot the name, but I know the Fullbringer Arc happens majorly there). Other than that, we have nothing, so I allowed myself to come up with this bordering town called Karigura where the events of Part 2 will occur, Karigura being derived from 'Caligula', the Roman emperor (given that I've seen a movie about him recently). Why the name? Uh, Romans were like the biggest sinners of all time. Seriously. They were of a great, historic civilization, but they literally embodied every single deadly sin. I'm having a hard time bleaching my mind clean of what I saw in that movie, along with this other movie, Titus (featuring Anthony Hopkins). Still have the chills...

(2) Chronologically speaking, the second part of Sojun' memories (where Aizen finds out about Sojun's betrothal), happens sometime before Aizen meets Doll. And, plot-wise, meeting Doll was the main drive for Aizen standing up to the Seireitei as well as, notably, his current plans for Byakuya in particular, as in basically most of what's happening and has happened is because of Doll, sort of. If that's far too ambiguous, it'll clear up later on, fret not everybody.

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A/N: So this interlude actually (but not fully) points out to whatever has been left unsaid and unclear in Part One. However, as you guys can tell, I haven't explained everything... Another thing, before we go further, I'd like to clarify something if you guys don't mind. So, Ichigo, Grimmjow and Byakuya are the main characters of this fic, and Aizen the main villain, true. But, there are other characters that have a certain relevance to the whole plotline, both villains and not, as you have surely noticed. If you haven't, it's fine, you'll figure it out eventually. Hence, when I go around featuring other none-OC characters, I have a reason. I'm not doing this to waste time or anything like that, just so you know. This is a little parenthesis, as well as it being directed to whom it may concern. Thank you for reading and for your consideration...