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.

3. Part Two: Chapter 2 P1

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

A/N: Hello, everyone! Immensely sorry for this very late update! I can't believe it's been over six months since I've updated, gosh! In all seriousness though, I had A LOT of things going on, along with gruelling details which I will not bore you with. Also, not only this chapter was long - SO long, that I had no choice but to upload it into two parts, the site unable to upload the chapter as a whole - and a lot of work, but time really doesn't like me much (...pouts).

Before the chapter begins, I have just a couple of things to say to those willing to hear me out.

Firstly, I'd like to give a huge thank you to NekoPantera for being there with me through rather tough and hard times. I've had their support, their encouragement, their friendship, and I really do hope that I can remain worthy of them for, hopefully, many PMs to come. They've aided me with my writing, with my life, with my personal problems, patiently putting up with as well as my impromptu delayed responses to our exchanged PMs... They're a lifesaver in ways you couldn't ever imagine. Thank you SO much NekoPantera-san! I truly recommend checking out their profile as they have an AWESOME Bleach fic there. They've also just begun a Harry Potter fic, which is very much unique. Please credit them; they truly deserve it.

Secondly, as you'll see from here on out, some segments will start (or end or be interrupted) with a set of lyrics, because, for some reason, the scenes just don't work in my head without the background music I used when writing them. While the songs in themselves don't always match the segment, the lyrics are depicted as a parallel and act like a riddle. Some will be rather obvious, others not so much. If you figure things out, don't hesitate to let me know. It'll be like a solving game! On another note, I might repeat the songs, but not cite the same lyrics.

Please do enjoy the update, everyone!

Rating for this chapter: The stakes are pretty higher here. Given the environment our trio are now in, several sexual situations are to be expected, not predominantly, but at least often. There'll be two major bits within this chapter. One of them is the longest, where Ichigo and Byakuya will go through their forced but slow 'training', which includes (globally): M/M, Degradation, Bondage, Oral and Non-con (by means of Sex toys). They will also be language, nudity, inebriety, self-harm, a passage of horror and gore, and a passage of violence, where two characters come to blows. I can't exactly point out to a specific fraction of this chapter to skip for those who may be wary of all this, as, for example, Ichigo and Byakuya's training is really a major part (it is 3/7 segments), cut by different passages of the chapter (000000000), like an on/off switch... On a fair warning, I've been reading erotic fiction recently, so what will come up, will be somewhat influenced, but I'm unable to confirm if it's graphic, yet I can state that it's quite vulgarized. Read at your own risk, is all I can advise. You've been warned.

P.S: You'll find that the poll for this fic is still open if you're willing to vote. You only need to check my profile and place a vote. I'll keep it open until Chapter 3 (next chapter), so please feel free to pick what could eventually be, somewhere, at some point, within the flow of this fic. If there is something else that you'd like to add that isn't featured in the poll, please send me a PM or leave a review.

Poll: What will you be willing to read in the upcoming chapters?

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Responding to your reviews:

To Guest 1: Hello and thank you for your review! I'm SO glad that you enjoyed the previous chapter! Hope you'll like this one too! Take care! And see you next update, I hope! Bye!

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Part Two: Dignity Falls:

Chapter 2: Under the Twilights (Part 1):

Stumbling as she dashed up the stairs, Leona inaudibly lamented to herself on the new and unexpected amendment to this night's schedule and rota, as well as the impact it would cause.

She was not happy with it. And she knew most of the others were going to like it even less. Also, she knew, without a doubt, despite being the messenger, she was going to be shot down.

Although it was done in unfairness and misconception, Leona effortlessly understood why she would be a potential outlet to their dissent and displeasure. After all, it was always so much easier to shift and to place the blame on others, particularly if they were of the kind or gentle type. These words just about screamed 'pathetic' to most, who labelled these traits as flaws...

She was swift to sprint away from the dim memory lane her thoughts were slowly leading her.

'Don't go there,' whispered her mind in caution, and she knew better than to do the opposite. They weren't the best of her memories after all.

Leona then dutifully refocused on her task at hand as she hastily ran through the hall that was to lead her to the other dolls, all while wishing, for once, by some miracle, they'd be tolerant enough to not take it out on her.

Besides, no matter how anyone in this place were to feel, about anything at all, what was for certain was that Suzuki-sama's orders were absolutely this, regardless of whether they were initially premeditated, or simply and suddenly made on a whim.

And them, the pretty, brittle dolls, bound in every way to their creator, could only follow and submit, despite some of them having their inner-made protests or their own personal will. Neither of those two had a voice in here, so they were never heard, never used, never needed.

Mind whirling as usual, Leona eventually reached her destination and, without knocking or thinking, she barged straight on in, slamming the door open and parting her lips to speak, before freezing completely where she was.

She had been sent to tell the other dolls of the change in plans and, given the time it currently was, they were all up in the changing rooms. But, with all that rushing about and distracted thinking, it had completely skipped her mind that they were actually changing.

Several eyes, of different shape and colour, barely glanced over at her, their apathetic and aloof gazes upon her as she just stood there awkwardly, before nonchalantly going back to what they were doing, totally untroubled about their state of dress, or rather undress.

Leona, however, was troubled. Very much so.

A dark blush crept along her cheeks as she stiffened, berating herself for her inconsideration, before she swiftly averted her gaze and then fixatedly glued her amber eyes onto the floor.

Awaiting to be acknowledged but seeing that she was clearly and entirely being ignored, the blue-haired girl, still rather uncomfortable, coughed uneasily, hoping to gain their attention.

With the others not even bothering to look at her this time, two girls, one lazily and the other sharply, darted back their focus onto Leona, this time with curiosity and irritation respectively laced within their gentle green and bitter blue eyes.

"What?" spat out the second girl unkindly, angrily flipping her long, bright green hair over her shoulder with a hand - exposing her well-endowed bare upper body even more - while using the other hand to loudly cap closed the fluo cherry lipstick she had been so busy applying.

With extreme care, Leona tentatively began speaking: "There has been a last-minute change."

"Oh?" uttered the first girl, as she leaned forwards with intrigue, her long, wavy fuchsia hair moving along with her, while everyone else in the room tensed and halted in their movements.

Amber eyes still to the ground, the blue-haired girl, rigid under the rising tension, quickly shut the door and shuffled in, heading over to her reserved corner in the room, all while explaining the situation: "The Twilights will be having the nights off for a few, and this on orders. So, me and a couple of others, will be working with you tonight, to even the numbers."

"What?! Why the fuck am I hearing this only now?! Motherfuckin'-!"

As the bright green-haired hissed profanities and the others muttered or mumbled under their breaths, the fuchsia-haired girl kept her attention on Leona, tilting her head as she questioned: "Who'll hold the front desk then, if not you, Leo-chan?"

"Millie," informed the other, but as they all gave her incredulous looks - given that Millie in question was mute, so...uh, how? - Leona was quick to add "Tora will be with her."

With that made clear, they each wordlessly went back to prepping, preening and prettifying themselves before then picking up their clothes and accessories, while Leona took a seat and a let out a soft sigh of relief.

The truth was, despite them being in a setting where it was everyone for themselves, many of the dolls counted on the Twilights given their huge popularity. They were more often than not stealing the spotlight, with their lethal charm, leaving the others to deal with either a lesser number of patrons or the least complicated of patrons. And it suited them just fine that way.

Hence, it had all went way better than Leona could have expected. No fits. No fights. They were clearly annoyed and disgruntled about it, but they kept it at that.

It seemed almost too good to be true.

"And the routine?" piped up the fuchsia-haired abruptly in remembrance, a worried frown to her face "You haven't attended the rehearsals in a while now, Leo-chan. What will you do?"

Yikes. There it was. It really had been too good to be true.

Leona had been so nervous as to how they'd react with the Twilights' temporary absence, that she had forgotten part of what she was supposed to tell them.

"About that...The Plays will be cancelled, by the way. It'll be just...typical nights for a while."

A third girl, this one with long, black hair and deathly pale skin, rolled her cold, indigo eyes in a cynical manner and - as she skilfully, childishly styled up two stray strands at the very top of her head to look like very long antennas - snorted sardonically: "Typical, my fuckin' ass."

However, she was the only one to react in such a smooth way regarding this new chunk of information. So, apart from that girl's remark briefly breaking the silence, it was dead quiet for a very suffocating moment, before a deafening uproar came to life, fired up tongues letting hell break loose, voices crashing into each other as they all ranted and raved their aggravation.

Because, in truth, a night at Débauche without a 'play', meant dealing directly and straight off with the patrons, and while the Twilights didn't mind at all, the other dolls minded. A LOT.

"What the hell?!"

"Oh no, Leo-chan. Why?"

"First the Twilights, now the Plays?! What the fuckin' heck makes this 'typical', baka Leo?! Like hell I'm working tonight, you little sh-!"

"Suzuki-sama's back," interrupted the blue-haired as firmly as she could, sincerely hoping it'd convey to them that this was beyond her, as well as beyond them. And it really, truly was.

The other dolls apparently appeared to realize this, as their tantrum dampened down several notches and, after a stagnated minute or two, they wordlessly settled with carrying on their preparations, instantly falling into line upon reflex at the mere mention of that man's name. Funny how much power and influence their creator had over each and every one of them...

With no one present particularly affected with the landlord's return, they did have to wonder what their maker's abrupt and impromptu reappearance stood for, after being gone for so long...dreading what it may mean. Their master's presence at Débauche was never good.

That distressing thought alone had a fourth girl - her long, straight, thick hair dark brown and her eyes blazing brown - groaning loudly: "Ugh. This is going to be one very long night."

"Since when have nights ever been short here?" smirked the black-haired girl from before, her smarmy, sickly sweet tone causing a few to either glower at her or just shudder in revulsion.

"Not another fuckin' word, Gigi," seethed the green-haired, murderously glaring daggers at the girl in question.

Grinning like a crazy, mad Jester, the black-haired girl called Gigi simply blew a loud kiss - via her hand, before making a show of shifting her gesture in order to flip off everyone else in the room - just as the Twilights opened the door and made their way in, exuding superiority with their every step.

"And then three lucky cunts walked in," sneered the green-haired girl viciously, eyeing them hatefully, while they merely wore amused expressions of dark and sinister humour, chuckling.

"Love you, too, bitch," drawled out the blonde tauntingly, making the other two males with him smirk along, before he batted his eyelashes and bit his lip with feigned zeal "I really do."

"Yep," uttered Gigi scathingly under her breath, eyes rolling again "Really feeling the love."

"Night off, eh?" uttered the brown-haired girl, eyes narrowed with high resentment in them.

"Not exactly, Bambi dear. It's initiation for a couple of new dolls," informed the blonde male using a light tone with entendre, whereas he and the other two retrieved what they came for - multiple sets of boxes - before sending them a salacious wink and leaving straight after that.

With the trio gone, a couple of dolls exchanged glances, while others grimaced with distaste.

Though not much was said during this brisk exchange, the Twilights need not say any more. They all knew what it meant. And the boxes they had just taken only served to confirm that.

"Oh, the poor darlings," whispered the fuchsia-haired girl sympathetically, chewing upon her lower lip as she lowered her gentle gaze "To deal with those three for their very first time here... And they look so dangerously thrilled on top of that. That's generally very bad. I feel so sorry for these new ones."

Going back to gingerly styling up her short hair to give it a wild, punkish look, Leona could only mutely return the sentiment, only she remained totally impassive and did not say a thing.

"Why? No one's ever felt sorry for any of us," scoffed the green-haired acerbically in turn, as she slipped into a strapless, glittery dress, before casting a patronizing look in the other girl's direction "Or for you. You know that, right? Here, it's everyone for themselves. Always."

As the green-haired finished her words with a dark flourish, the fuchsia-haired let out a soft, unhappy sigh, unable to rid herself of her concern: "I know, but-"

"But zilch. Just another set of lowlifes, that's all," stated the other inflexibly, her mind made.

The fuchsia-haired girl winced at the green-haired girl's insensitivity and intolerance: "...Isn't that a little harsh? You haven't even met them yet, Candi-chan."

"Don't need to. They're here, aren't they? We're all lowlifes here," declared the green-haired girl vituperatively, before looking herself over and - after seeing that everything was in order - walking straight out the room with an assertive step, her heels clicking noisily as she left.

"Does she have to be mean all the time?" mumbled the fuchsia-haired girl with a faint frown, fiddling aimlessly with the different-sized pearl necklaces around her neck.

"And do you have to be naive all the time, Meni?" countered Gigi unpleasantly, boredom to her features as she spoke brusquely, distantly "You'll never hear me complaining about it."

Again, the girl called Meni flinched at the realistic harshness the others had to offer, whereas Leona bit her lip, furrowing her brow but, again, not saying anything. And not quite daring to.

It was like the other had said before she had left. Here, no one could afford to stand up or put themselves in line for the other. It was just far too problematic, on so many levels. Another weakness. Hence, in the end, it really was everyone for themselves. It was a lot safer that way.

"Long night indeed," whispered Leona softly, wearily - mindful to not be heard and instigate another turbulence - as she raised her eyes upwards, and began applying a line of eye shadow.

Stilled in my trembling lips

How did the night ever get like this?

(Runnin', by Adam Lambert)

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Though this was certainly not the first time, Ichigo found himself worrying about Grimmjow.

By all means, given Grimmjow was Grimmjow, the Shinigami Substitute shouldn't be that concerned, but he really couldn't help it.

The former Arrancar had, in time, somehow found a definite place in the teen's caring zone reserved for those he felt the unconditional need to be there for, the ones he felt the need to never give up on.

Not everyone understood this particular part of him - sometimes not even himself - but Ichigo just couldn't change how he was. It was in his nature to be this protective, in his name even.

Whenever he fought, it was out of obligation, out of necessity, not because he wanted to. Heck, if it was up to him personally, he'd completely avoid conflict, opting further for a more peaceful, trouble-free life.

It was just, conflict and danger seemed somewhat always attracted to him, notably given the fact that he would, more often than not, selflessly step in and endanger his own wellbeing to fight battles...that were not even his to begin with.

Call him conceited or arrogant or whatever, that was just the way he was. And will always be.

Right now, Ichigo and Byakuya were waiting, locked up some sort of closet-like room, that was nearly fully bare, with nothing inside but a scarcely functioning light above them and a small bench - which neither the noble nor the teen were sitting upon, both seated on the floor in a corner each instead, silently lost deep down in thought.

Sighing softly for the umpteenth time, the teenager drew his legs upwards and leaned his chin on his knees, feeling further on edge than ever with the feline's absence, hating that he had no way to know where the other was or what was happening to him.

And Ichigo was truly assuming the worst by now, especially given how things had last ended.

"You're going to fuckin' separate us?!" seethed out Grimmjow in a low, heated hiss, angry shock to his darkened features.

Despite someone - a big, bulk muscled man in a suit - entering the room upon the immortal's command to escort them away, Aizen did not let the trio leave right away, as he had yet a couple of more other unpleasant things to tell them.

"The three of you will share a room together by the end of whatever's been required of you," commented the child of chaos offhandedly, wording it dismissively as if he was granting them an act of grand indulgence "Otherwise, you'll each be somewhere different, yes."

"But you've never-" began the feline lividly before halting instantly in realization, eyes wide.

He had been about to say that the other had never said that, but there was the very hitch. Aizen never said anything about this.

Pure rage flitted across Grimmjow's features, as ire boiled through his veins, resenting with every fibre of his being how the immortal managed to mould every situation to his favour.

"You fuckin' seedy son of a b-"

The former Arrancar managed just in time to hold down the rest of his insult at the ugly look of sheer and raw violence that crossed the other's killer cold features, the feline recalling just in time how much Aizen valued his mother.

...That was close. Too close.

"A good thing you caught your tongue," drawled out the child of chaos evenly, his tone not once betraying the still present fury somewhere within him "Once again, I am no mood to be lenient, Grimmjow. ...Clear?"

As the master and former servant glared at each other with belligerent intensity, Ichigo's eyes flitted apprehensively between the two, expecting them to jump at each other's throats at any moment, notably with the malevolent glint the immortal's dimmed eyes harboured.

"Transparent, Aizen-sama," hissed out the blue-haired male eventually in near dampened ire, sounding almost as if he was spitting the other's name, but the once-Espada lowered his gaze in quiet surrender all the same.

Grimmjow was on Aizen's bad side already, with quite certainly a plateful of punishments in store for the days to come. He didn't need to worsen his case and aggravate the child of chaos further than he had previously. Especially since the feline wasn't totally sure that he'd be the only one on the receiving end this time.

"Good," uttered Aizen tonelessly, shifting his focus to the bulk of a man, still standing at the back, before then nodding curtly in Grimmjow's direction "Get him out of my sight."

And ever since that very moment, where that very man came forth and forcefully dragged an unwilling, struggling Grimmjow away, neither Byakuya nor Ichigo saw the feline since then...

"You shouldn't be worrying about him."

The Shinigami Substitute startled rather badly, blinking his wide eyes in the noble's direction.

Breaking from his meditations to coolly regard the teenager in his company, Byakuya merely had an eyebrow raised upon reserved, controlled features, so the young male couldn't tell if the other was in fact annoyed and about to reprimand him, or simply wished to speak to him.

Truthfully, given that neither of them had said a word to each other since they had separately set foot in this room, Ichigo really hadn't been expecting a conversation to spark. At all.

But, apparently, his anxiety and worry was palpable enough to drive the Kuchiki to interfere.

"I may not know him well, but I do not believe that he would want you to worry, young man," continued on the dark-haired, choosing his words carefully, as reassurance was not really his forte, but still tried what he could anyway "He'll be fine."

Not quite sure what to say, Ichigo nodded wordlessly, but it was without much conviction.

It was hard to explain - and he'd truly like to believe that he was not being pessimistic here - but the orange-haired teen had a bad feeling. A very bad one.

Things have obviously being going downhill ever since the child of chaos had won the Other War, but Ichigo instinctively sensed that there was more - worse - to come.

And to be totally fair, Grimmjow wasn't the only one the orange-haired male was anxious for. Ichigo was also concerned about Byakuya. And this, within good reason.

Aizen - now sitting again - had kept Ichigo and Byakuya a little longer, sadistically twisting the knife deeper, more so with the feline absent, whilst filling them in with additional details.

Once he had finished his distressing monologue, the child of chaos inattentively waved them away, as his focus diverted to a stack of papers that had been sitting beside him.

"Go on then, be gone. I'm done with you."

They didn't need to be told twice.

However, as they - both rather relieved to get away from Aizen - began speed walking for the door, the immortal's condescending voice rose up again, stilling them in their steps with his next words: "Not you, Ichigo. Come over here for a moment."

Apprehensive, the young orange-haired male glanced nervously at Byakuya - whose features were just as strained - before he gradually looked over his shoulder.

But the teenager wasn't met with Aizen's eyes - the later which were riveted upon the papers he was leafing through. However, the brown-haired male was using a free hand to pat at the empty space beside him on the couch.

Not moving at first, the teen then tentatively took slow, wary steps towards the other, before taking a seat as ordered, tension clear in his frame as his distressed eyes lowered to the floor.

When, all the while, the Kuchiki didn't go anywhere, Aizen spoke up steadily, firmly ushering the other to leave: "You, on the other hand, can go on ahead, dear Byakuya. Someone should already be at the door, waiting. He'll escort you where you need to be."

The noble, however, was still hesitating, eyes straying over to where the uneasy teen now was.

As he didn't know what leaving Ichigo alone would entail for the latter, Byakuya looked like he was thinking of a subtle way to speak up against the other's command.

But the child of chaos beat him to it, not even bothering to look up, whilst smirking cruelly: "Don't worry. I'll let the boy go once I'm finished with him."

...Well, that sounded even less reassuring.

Clenching his jaw, the dark-haired shinigami seemed to realize that he, alas, couldn't stop or delay whatever was going to happen, so, after one last glance - etched with feeble comfort - in the teen's direction, Byakuya left without a word. Not that anyone could blame him.

Now the Kuchiki noble gone, the Shinigami Substitute vigilantly focused his frightened eyes upon the other, shaking a little as he did so and frankly hoping that Aizen didn't see anything.

But he did. He saw all of it. Despite having yet to look in the teenager's direction, the way the immortal was smiling was a dead giveaway.

Hunching up his shoulders slightly, Ichigo shivered, now even more aware of his current state of dress. He felt exposed. ...Then he recalled, with horror, that the child of chaos had actually seen him naked - even if it had been by camera. The teenage flushed, mortified.

And, to make matters even worse, he somehow found himself remembering what the child of chaos had coerced him into saying, awhile back, out in the debris and ruins of what the proud Seireitei once used to be.

'I, Kurosaki Ichigo, promise that my soul and body belong to Aizen-sama, existing for him and him only.' (1)

Given that he had literally handed himself over to the immortal, the young male had no power whatsoever to question anything at all Aizen were to do to him, or else those he had sacrificed himself for would pay the consequences...

Current problem was, what was the child of chaos going to do to him?

"There's no need to be so afraid, child," chuckled Aizen, amused as always, finally locking his dark, dark eyes on the other as he set his stack of papers on his knees "I can't hurt you."

The curious way Aizen had formulated his sentence had the teen's disquiet pause upon taking it in after a minute. The other had said 'can't', but not 'won't'. And it led Ichigo to wonder...

"We're going to have to do something about your hair," commented the child of chaos lightly all of a sudden, as he eyed the teen with a pensive frown, leading Ichigo to blink, staggered and not expecting this at all.

"It would really attract too much attention. And I'd rather you kept a low profile here."

At first, the stunned teenager couldn't make any sense of why the immortal was saying that. But, when it finally hit him, it made his eyes narrow in indignation, highly put off: "So I won't be recognized? Or found, that it?"

"Clever boy," the child of chaos smirked widely, once again appreciating the fact that the boy wasn't as naïve as everyone thought "Quite true. Some really dear to you have been adamant on declaring that you were missing, therefore you're currently being searched for throughout Japan, and even abroad. How wonderfully caring of them, isn't it?"

Ichigo couldn't believe his ears.

And, immediately, his concerned mind hurriedly ran off to Karin and Yuzu, believing them to be who Aizen was insinuating.

While that did sound like something his worried sisters might do, it didn't really make sense. They knew - saw - that he was in a different world last they had been together. Did they know he was here? That couldn't be it either. If he recalled it correctly, they had been told to keep quiet too. Had they defied what Aizen had told them? They wouldn't risk something like that.

Maybe, it wasn't his sisters, but his friends instead? Or...was the immortal messing with him?

Revelling in the mixture of conflict, confusion and concern in the teenager's expression, Aizen then languidly raked his eyes over the unruly mane of vivid orange: "Would you be willing to grow them? No? How about changing the colour then? A shade of brown, perhaps?"

"So I'll look like you?" retorted the teen tersely, scowling as he said so, which only served to heighten the other's amusement further, going as far as to make him laugh out heartily.

"Dear child, even if that were to occur, you and I are worlds apart," smiled Aizen pleasantly, his dark eyes glittering with a sly, sinister shine "Nothing a little dye would do to alter that."

Frowning with lowered eyes, Ichigo spoke quietly, uncertain and uneasy: "I- I don't know."

Dark, cunning brown eyes considered the other as an elegant eyebrow rose slowly: "Weren't you bullied in the past because of this colour? I mean, it really does draw one's attention."

Irked by the recurring reality in which the other knew almost everything about him, Ichigo crossed his arms defensively, scowling: "That was in the past."

"Of course, of course. No rush, anyways," suggested Aizen, as he rested his arms upon the headrest, with the other quickly shying away from the risk of being touched by the immortal. The teenager then scowled again as the child of chaos chuckled, clearly mocking him.

Apparently, it amused Aizen to witness him flit so erratically between dread and dislike.

Well, it certainly wasn't making Ichigo laugh.

"Though I do strongly suggest a darker dye. It would suit you," the immortal then said in all seriousness, still on track with their - his - conversation.

Completely stumped and somewhat fed up with this wacky talk, Ichigo, frazzled, deadpanned: "Did you...? Did you just keep me here to talk about my hair?"

"My, my, how impatient," commented the child of chaos, maliciously entertained, before then totally altering the subject at hand and fully derailing the other "What is Byakuya to you?"

Entirely taken aback, the Shinigami Substitute frowned in puzzlement: "What do you mean?"

"The question couldn't be any simpler, Ichigo. Simply answer it."

Hesitating but a moment, the young male, brow furrowed deep, began to answer: "Byaku-"

"Za-ku-ra. His name now belongs to me," reminded the other sharply, a sadistic, gloating smirk to his lips "Though you may say it, I wouldn't recommend it. It would only serve as a painful reminder that he can no longer call it his name. That, and keep in mind that names are power. And you wouldn't to give that power to any of the patrons he may have, do you?"

Every single time any conversation with Aizen portrayed anything remotely sexual, Ichigo was under the impression that it was simply too surreal to be real.

He was probably thinking along those lines given that he had yet to be 'in' such a situation - and what happened within that white room back in Las Noches, quite honestly, didn't count (2) - a situation neither he nor Byakuya and Grimmjow were too keen about.

Remembering that he had yet to reply, the teenager hastened to do so, considering his words with vigilant care, but with total honesty: "R-Right. So, uh... Zakura's…an acquaintance, I guess, since he wouldn't want me to call him a friend. But he does stay someone I care for."

'And I made a promise to Rukia, so...' thought Ichigo, his mind rather resolute on this as he recalled her sad, tired eyes when she asked this favour of him 'So I'll be looking out for her brother, in any way and however I can.'

"Only he doesn't quite return the sentiment, does he?" drawled out Aizen derisively, breaking the other's train of thought "Point in fact, he doesn't seem to like you much, or rather not at all. He has actually even tried to kill you multiple times, no?"

"Three," shrugged Ichigo nonchalantly, before he scowled as he shrewdly countered in turn "But you and the Espada, current and former, I've lost count."

"Indeed. Even Grimmjow, since we're at it. Three times too, wasn't it? Looks like we have a pattern here. Does someone need to have you come close to death three times before you consider them dear to you?" mocked the immortal with a smirk, leading the teenager's scowl to deepen even more, before swiftly coming back to the matter at hand "But back to Byakuya. He dislikes you, and this, far after you were established as the Seireitei's ally. Shocking, no?"

"That doesn't matter," declared Ichigo categorically, with a firm shake of his head, still put off by the other's former jibe. He had no idea why it bothered him more than it should have.

"It doesn't? No, perhaps not when it comes to you directly. But when Byakuya's aversion towards you also extends over to your friends, like say-" paused the immortal with an air of malice, smiling cruelly "-Orihime for instance, then that should concern you, shouldn't it?"

As Ichigo glared in silence, trepidation now fully leaving room for aggravation, Aizen went even further in his antagonizing, savouring the emotions he was drawing from the teenager.

"Dear Byakuya had poor, sweet, gentle Orihime stay behind, remember? She didn't want you involved nor concerned for her wellbeing, nor did she wish to cause conflict between you and the shinigami you have come to cherish," uttered the immortal languorously, taking his sweet time, his words meant to burn and harm "But the truth is, Byakuya treated her like a dog, locking her away, firing her with inquiries, blaming her for what was happening at that time, stapling the word 'treason' upon her like a scarlet letter... Terrible of him, isn't it?"

Here, Ichigo refused to let the other continue, snapping hotly: "Don't speak of him like that."

"Oh? Despite his actions and behaviour, you wish to stand up for him also?" asked Aizen with an air of incredulity, eyebrows raising up slow "Aren't you already protecting enough?"

"There's always room for others," replied the teenager unwaveringly, tone determined and words earnest "My greatest ambition, my biggest motivation is to protect as many as I can with as much as I can give. That's who I am. I live to protect others."

As he voiced those last two sentences aloud, the Shinigami Substitute then froze, inwardly feeling a dim yet growing panic. He shouldn't have said all that to the immortal of all people.

Grimmjow had already warned him before not to carelessly give Aizen anything that could be used to his advantage. And Ichigo had just that. In spades. ...Oh God.

Pausing also at the way the other had worded his resolve, Aizen's face changed completely. All trace of wicked humour and scathing sadism abruptly vanished from his features, leaving room to nothing but a blank expression and dark eyes dimming down to an ambiguous shade.

"Your...greatest ambition, was it?"

"…Yeah. Why does this surprise you all of a sudden?" asked Ichigo hesitantly, puzzlement adding itself to his features, not understanding the enigmatic change the immortal just had.

"Be careful, child," warned the child of chaos in total seriousness, his tone strangely void of mock or conceit "Your intentions are honourable, I will give you that. However, wanting to protect everyone is not just unachievable in itself, but is it also rather avid of you to think that way. Greed is a sin, you know. A rather dangerous one."

And this was coming from a 'Child of Chaos who represented Lust', something Ichigo had yet no clear clue as to what it actually meant.

"Right. Because what you're going to make me and the others do isn't a sin, that it?" bit back the teen starkly, young eyes narrowing indignantly, while Aizen swiftly went back to smirking.

"But I alone am responsible, so the sole culprit behind the sin in question is me. Here, we're discussing something that is stemming from your own volition."

Not really following the new turn their conversation had taken, Ichigo just shrugged casually.

Meticulously studying the young male for a moment, the child of chaos then stated tellingly, meaningfully: "Know that our dear Kuchiki is truly undeserving of your altruism, believe me. And that will be something you'll come to witness quite soon enough."

"I know what you're doing," stressed out the teen fiercely through clenched teeth, prompting the immortal to arch an eyebrow expectantly, patiently waiting for Ichigo to go on "You want me to doubt Bya- Zakura because of your lies. You want to turn me against him. Well, it won't work. Forget it."

"...Does it look like I'm lying, Ichigo?"

The immortal's still sparsely loitering anger from before only served as an emphasis to his cruel honesty. And yet the young orange-haired, wordlessly looking away again and frowning deeper, stubbornly maintained his point of view, refusing to doubt the Kuchiki noble.

And the immortal easily saw this, yet opted not to push against the other's conviction further.

"I do not lie," reminded Aizen, before then adding one more thing "All I ask, is that you keep this in mind. You don't know Kuchiki Byakuya. At least, not in the way you think you do."

"The heck is your deal?!" snapped Ichigo sharply, recklessly forgetting himself and pounding a fist on the couch, his sudden outburst leading the other's eyes to widen, stunned in silence.

"You have this- this-" trailed off the teenager, struggling to find the proper word, before then just chucking it away dismissively "I don't know what this is you have with Byakuya. He put you in Muken, so what? You had a bad history with his family, and? You wouldn't go this far, for little things like that. Not you. ...There's something else here. And you're hiding it."

A beat of silence then hung in the air, aggravated brown clashing against astonished brown.

"Hm. For someone so young, you certainly are quite sharp," mused the immortal aloud, lips parted in disbelief before he chuckled condescendingly, wickedly amused "Alright. I'll tell you this. Byakuya is a vital key that I need in order to keep a certain lid, locked tightly shut. And, in order for that to happen, our dear Kuchiki leader imperatively has to fall down into the darkest depths of degenerate dehumanization."

Frowning deeply, Ichigo attempted to grasp Aizen's cryptic words, but failed: "I don't get it."

"That was my intention. It's best you do not fully comprehend the implication behind those words," smirked the child of chaos smoothly, dark eyes twinkling with sinister and shaded intent "Not like anyone else - beside the likes of me - would comprehend the true meaning."

Mind a total mess, distraught brown eyes flitted over to where the dark-haired male sat on the other side of the room, back again to his private world of meditating, with his eyes closed. Was Ichigo doubting Byakuya? Most certainly not. ...Well, not really.

It was just that the immortal's words had instilled a slight level of discomfort in him, because of the undeniable veracity behind them. He did not know the Kuchiki noble. Not well enough.

And was certain was that Ichigo wasn't truly one of Byakuya's favourite people. That much was pretty clear...

What he also did know however - despite it being horribly vague - was that Aizen was hell-bent on achieving something, and whatever it was, it was surely nothing good.

Yeah...Vague.

Everything the immortal did, his every action, was just mere strategy in the end. Like in a chess game, with a player aiming for the strongest pieces and making them topple down hard, leaving but the weakest in play, unable to do anything but dance around the chessboard.

Personally, Ichigo never liked chess. The thought of sacrificing pieces to win didn't sit well with him at all.

What did the immortal truly want with Byakuya? So many questions, and even less answers...

"You're staring."

"I know," uttered Ichigo softly, feeling somewhat embarrassed at being 'caught' by the other, despite the Kuchiki noble having yet to open his eyes.

"You're not stopping," remarked the dark-haired male, arching an eyebrow as he said so, tone not reprimanding but still slightly stern.

"I know," repeated the Shinigami Substitute just as quietly, looking away this time "Sorry."

A couple of minutes passed, before the shinigami captain's voice rose up again, questioning: "When he kept you behind, Aizen Sosuke spoke about me, didn't he?"

At first, the teenager didn't - couldn't - respond, too startled to do so, wondering how on earth the noble figured it out. They hadn't spoken to each other until these past few minutes, and not since well before their meeting with the immortal had begun.

"Is it that obvious?" ended up asking the orange-haired male, surprise still present in his tone.

This time, Byakuya slowly opened his eyes, locking them right onto Ichigo as he deadpanned: "You're making it obvious."

Chortling sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his head, the young orange-haired then sobered and inquired the other, treading cautiously: "Do you want to know what he said?"

The dark-haired male seemed to carefully consider this. But then, he simply shook his head.

"Though I do wish to know, I'm aware that his tongue utters riddles," said Byakuya, before pointing out knowingly "I doubt he was clear, whatever he said to you."

"Tell me about it," agreed the teen, before he then ran his hand over his weary face, letting out an irritated huff "I'm still trying to figure out what he meant. And what he intends to do."

The noble remained silent for a while, a withdrawn, pensive look to his equally tired features, before he then lithely got to his feet and walked over to where the Shinigami Substitute was.

The teen could only stare dumbly as the dark-haired male gestured for to him to scoot over. Complying without thinking, Ichigo did so, leaving room for Byakuya to sit down beside him.

As the teenager stared curiously at the Kuchiki now next to him, the latter tried to find his words, speaking steadily: "There's no sense in deciphering anything he says or does. I would know. Liar he may be not, but he weaves words in such an intricate way that leaves us dumb. And wondering if, initially, we speak the same language. Hence, I'd advise you to let it go."

Blinking in disbelief, Ichigo almost had the impression that the other was reassuring him. But, before the young male could comment on it, Byakuya added dryly: "But knowing you, advice is entirely and utterly lost on you."

"Wow," uttered the other, a hint of amused sarcasm to his tone "You know me that well?"

"Don't flatter yourself, young man," retorted the Kuchiki haughtily, his nose turned up high with an air of disdain to his features, whereas a faint quirk to his lips was the only giveaway to his jesting.

Relaxing to some extent for the first time in the past few chaotic days, Ichigo grinned a little.

It looked like Byakuya had taken it upon himself to call him 'young man' since their 'tagging' process, apparently unable to utter the appellation Aizen had given the teen, but still training himself to not voice aloud Ichigo's actual name.

On a personal note, the orange-haired teenager didn't really mind the substitute Byakuya had chosen for him instead. It wasn't belittling or patronizing in any way. It sounded sympathetic, near warm, if he could dare suggest as such on behalf of the usually cold, reserved shinigami.

"I am not in any way going soft on you," spoke up the shinigami captain all of a sudden, far more serious and steadfast this time around, as if reading the teen's train of thought "Banish that from your mind completely."

Well. There goes that.

Mostly unruffled by the other's distant demeanour by now, Ichigo simply smiled, shaking his head, before the prior conversation held with Aizen came back to mind hauntingly, uninvited.

A frown crossed the Shinigami Substitute's features, as he nervously glanced at the noble, the latter who merely raised an eyebrow, sensing a severe shift in the mood but not mentioning it.

Though not generally this uncertain in his decision-making, the teenager didn't know how to - or if he should - share this bugging fact with the other, not sure what to say or what not to say.

Ichigo didn't see himself lying to the other, but he really didn't want to burden the other with the truth either, given how unclear it was anyways. In truth, the dark-haired male had enough problems as it was.

All of them had.

"Hey, Bya-? Uh..." drawled out the young male hesitantly, earning the shinigami captain's full attention as he nodded to show that he was listening "Can you promise me something?

"If it's something that I have the power to do, then of course," conceded the noble carefully, yet candidly, inwardly speculating where exactly this odd turn of conversation was leading to. But none of his musings prepared him for what the teenager was about to request of him.

"Please, don't change," Ichigo whispered pleadingly, not really knowing why he was asking this, and yet feeling an important, compulsory need to "You're great just the way you are."

Tilting his head slightly, the 6th Division's captain remained quiet, whilst regarding the teen with a hint of curiosity, feeling like he was being hinted something but that he was missing it.

Before he could question the other upon it however, the door suddenly unlocked, key clanging loudly within the keyhole, prior to the entrance opening and letting a blinding light seep in.

Wincing and shielding their eyes, Ichigo and Byakuya both fought a moment to adjust to the sudden difference in lighting, before focusing on the person standing there in the doorway.

It was one of those bulky men in black suits, different than the one they had seen before, but with the similar build and getup - suit and tie, sunglasses, an earpiece and a grim expression. And to the teen, these men looked like bodyguards. Or something close to the Men in Black...

"No words," spoke up the man gruffly, unfeelingly, like a robot, talking before either of the two captives could "Just follow. In silence."

Glancing at each other, Ichigo and Byakuya unenthusiastically complied, getting up to their feet and following the bulky man out, before the latter closed the door and began to guide them through whichever labyrinth of corridors they were currently in - something neither of the two got a hang of yet, feeling like they could easily get lost.

As they were led through the brightly lit and lavishly decorated halls, the little troupe passed by a couple of closed doors, a few from which emanated muffled sounds. Sounds which made Ichigo and Byakuya pale a few shades, whilst shuddering with disgust and in discomfort.

Moans and groans of pleasure, low grunts of exertion, soft whimpers of ecstasy, high-pitched screams of bliss, quiet sobs of pain... Heaven forbid, would they have to go through that too?

Not noticing their pace slow down, Byakuya seethed, inwardly burning with ire and shame: "Out of everything that fiend could have done to us, he chose to reduce us to common pros-"

The noble cut himself off fast, stilling his tongue when he spotted, just a few steps ahead, the blonde male from earlier, staring directly at him, a thin eyebrow arched and his smile spiteful.

The male in question - still in the same black leather ensemble as before, along with a cream woollen shawl wrapped around his shoulders - had his arms crossed as he leaned against one of the corridor's walls, apparently waiting for them.

"Oh, don't feel bad to finish that thought of yours," voiced the blonde, tilting his head as he slowly, conceitedly scrutinized the dark-haired male from head to toe, making the latter tense up uneasily "Prostitutes, we are. Harlots, consorts, whores, hoes, and so on and so forth. But common? (Chuckles) Surely not. We are all but that."

The blonde male snorted as he said so, seemingly rather miffed by the mere thought, before he then smirked broadly, demonically: "Not that obvious to you yet, isn't it? Don't fret, you'll find out soon enough."

"I'd rather not," muttered the noble cynically, whereas the teenager eyed him sympathetically.

Smirking scornfully, the blonde didn't take his eyes off Byakuya's bitter expression, despite addressing the bulk of a man who had done the accompanying: "I'll take it from here."

"Jugo-sama," responded reverently the man, bowing his head curtly before taking his leave.

"Well?" drawled out the blonde condescendingly, an eyebrow raised when neither of the two moved, before he nodded briskly towards a door that laid beside where he stood "Get in."

Highly reluctant, they then wordlessly moved forward and, after Jugo had opened the door, they both went inside first, before nervously looking around the place they had set foot in.

With a Blood Bank Shell's edge to the décor(3), the room was dim lit - all due to a chandelier with soft lights, and flickering candles, inserted within several slots here and there throughout the purple-dyed walls.

A large ornate Queen Size Canopy bed - with dark red curtains, burgundy sheets and mauve pillows - stood out majestically, stridently from within the middle of the windowless chamber.

It was actually the first thing one would have to indisputably lay their eyes on upon entering. It wasn't easy not to notice it.

In addition to the bed, there were a few ebony wooden chairs - shambolically stacked in a corner - and a sizeable maroon leather couch, with a black table nearby. And upon the table were a couple of chest-like boxes stacked on top of one another.

Other than those and a couple of blank paintings, there wasn't much furniture, giving a good view of how vast the space was - the floor carpeted with soft, tinselled red upon black tiles.

There was also another door at the very back of the room, only this one was white as opposed to the black entrance door. It clashed completely with entire dark, sombre tones in this place, and one had to warily wonder what was behind it.

Speaking of which, despite these two predominant colours - of dark red and purple - generally having a soothing effect on people's nerves - and probably used in here for that very reason - it was actually having the complete opposite impact on Ichigo.

Not only was he highly ill-at-ease and unrelaxed, but the teen was also under the impression that the lack of windows was giving him a claustrophobic, stomach-churning feeling, making him feel further caged than he currently was... More so with the black door now being closed.

Casually flipping his long ponytailed hair, Jugo steadily paced in, with graceful strides of his long leather-clad legs, as he headed directly for the couch.

Reaching it, he sat down, crossing his legs and leaning back in an elegant fashion, before he contemplatively eyed the other two, head tilted to the side with dark aloofness to his features.

There was something about this individual - in addition to both the hint of sadistic cruelty and the dripping lust he had displayed earlier - that just pretentiously exuded self-importance, like he was better than everyone, and that no one could reach whatever echelon he stood upon.

"Only two, huh?" finally voiced the blonde after a moment of coercing the two to endure his unnerving scrutiny, leaving them tense and dreading what would occur the moment he'd stop.

Upon seeing puzzlement flit over their features, the blonde male clarified his words further: "Apparently, I'm guessing that pretty Tiger - the guy with blue hair who came with you - isn't inexperienced like you two are. He must be on the field already."

Jugo uttering the word 'inexperienced' made the teen and the noble to frown, both bothered and irritated by it, which led the Twilight's tedious expression to turn into wicked amusement.

"Oh dear, hit a nerve, have I? See, I would have said innocent, but given that you're no longer virgins, it wouldn't be accurate, now would it?" articulated the blonde leisurely, sadistically revelling in their discomfort and dismay, before he leaned forward with the air of a paparazzi seeking dirty, juicy gossip "So, how was the first time you did the nasty, hm?"

When the two remained utterly mute, with Ichigo stiffening and Byakuya clenching his jaw, the blonde smirked cruelly, darkly entertained.

"Unpleasant, I'm sure," he concluded apathetically as he waved a hand, before he uttered his next words dispassionately, tone still as unkind and patronizing "Believe me, whatever was done to you, is nothing compared to what awaits you two in here."

"That remains to be seen."

Suddenly looking like he had just achieved something huge, Jugo appeared to be somewhat titillated, due to the fact that the noble had raised his voice, confidence in the latter's tone.

"That so? Care to clarify on that, candy boy?"

Byakuya's eyebrow twitched near imperceptibly, rather displeased with this new nickname, before something abruptly snapped. A small rational part of him told him it was his patience...

Fed up with the blonde's vituperative attitude, the Kuchiki's grey eyes narrowed at the other's condescending, contempt-filled features - while pushing himself to briefly overlook the very uneasy feeling this youthful blonde male instilled within him.

"I am not intimidated by empty threats," stressed out the dark-haired male staunchly, causing Jugo's eyebrows to fly upwards.

"Empty threats?" he echoed incredulously, before he cackled heartily, smiling unpleasantly at the glaring noble "Hell. If I simply despised you before, I certainly do loathe you now."

Whereas the shinigami captain remained outwardly indifferent, Ichigo tilted his head subtly, his brow furrowed with a pondering expression to his features as he stared at the blonde male.

It was plainly obvious, even before Jugo openly stated it, that he had a problem with Byakuya. And it truly appeared to be more than just mere resentment, at least, in the teenager's opinion.

Swiftly getting to his feet, the blonde strolled directly over to the Kuchiki until they were face to face, before Jugo sneered, his voice menacingly low and snider than anything he had uttered prior: "Don't speak of what you don't know, candy boy. In fact, you know nothing."

Neither willing to back down, the blonde and the dark-haired males stared each other down resentfully, whilst Ichigo bit his lip restlessly, expecting them to lash out and tear each other down at any moment now, but not daring to interfere.

"Suzuki-sama's orders are absolute," accentuated Jugo potently, an edge of threat to his voice as he glared down loftily at the Kuchiki noble "Show displeasure or disgust if that makes you any feel better, resist a little for perks or whatever, but never disobey him. Though defiance entertains him, he is not that fond of disobedience, and we Twilights like it even less. We are not lenient like he appears to be. And really, you have more to fear from us than you do from him anyway. You do something, anything that infringes the rules here - his rules - and we'll be more than glad to let him know. And, if I'm not wrong, Suzuki-sama did tell you that there were consequences, if you dared to something along those lines, didn't he?"

Whilst Byakuya again remained without reaction, merely resorting to lividly glaring in silence and bristling on the inside, Ichigo, his nerves on edge, nodded instead in response to the other.

Seeing the movement out of the corner of his eye, the blonde Twilight declared relentlessly as he languidly pulled away from the noble: "Then keep yourself frequently in check, because these consequences are not something you'd ever want to happen."

"I can take it," stated the Kuchiki firmly, assertively, while judiciously deciding it best not to include nor to speak on the teenager's behalf, as to not put the latter in a precarious situation.

"I'm sure you can," laughed Jugo scathingly with a clear expression showing that he did not believe the noble for one second, before he regarded the dark-haired male with vicious malice in his unfeeling, stony green eyes "Only, who said you would be on the receiving end?"

At this, Ichigo and Byakuya went right rigid, paling, whilst the blonde just raised an eyebrow.

"Oh. Suzuki-sama didn't actually give you the exact details - of what would happen to those you care for - if you went wrong? ...Well, Suzuki-sama is diplomatic like that," he shrugged, before a horribly ruthless, foreboding smile touched Jugo's lips "I, on the other hand, have no qualms about being tactless. And I'll tell you all about it, when you least expect it."

After a beat of oppressive, suspenseful silence, the blonde dropped his menacing expression, leaving room for his previous boredom to return to his features: "Shall we get to work then?"

The way the blonde male could easily and promptly alter his features entirely, in but a couple of seconds, was stupefying, making one question how truthful any of his talk actually was.

But, for a conscious and cautious mind, it was far too risky to dare label his vague words as possible bluff. They couldn't afford to pretend or believe that such a thing could never occur, not with Aizen still standing firm behind the scenes...

Realizing that they had yet to react the blonde's inquiry, the pair then hurriedly nodded - the teenager mechanically and the noble rigidly - not quite trusting their voices right now.

A smug smile of satisfaction touched the blonde's lips as he finally went back to sit down on the couch, lethal suave and grace to his every given move.

"Good. Now, that we're clear," drawled out Jugo languidly, before he tilted his head faintly, a cruel gleam to his coldblooded green eyes as he firmly ordered "Take off your clothes."

It took a moment for the two males to register the other's command and then, when it finally hit home, the Kuchiki narrowed his eyes in displeasure whereas as a tint of red touched the teen's cheeks as he scowled uneasily.

But as the Twilight impatiently raised an eyebrow at their stalling, Ichigo and Byakuya forced themselves to do as they were told, attempting to set their discomfort and indignation aside.

As the Kuchiki rigidly reached for the laces at the back of his top, hastening to get this over with, the Shinigami Substitute was a lot more hesitant, not knowing where to start, along with that nagging fact that he had to get naked - again - in front of others.

Ichigo wasn't really particularly ashamed of his body - many battles had seen him with rip-offed clothes and exposed skin after all - but, right now, with what was intended for them, he was made, forced, to feel an unendurable, heavy sense of shame... Pushing that aside for now, the teenager sighed inaudibly, resignedly, as he bent down to take of his boots and-

"Oh, no, no, no. Not like that."

The pair instantaneously halted in their movements - with Byakuya already topless by now - as the blonde spoke up, prompting them to look and see that Jugo held an expression caught somewhere between appalled and amused.

"Come on, boys," chided the Twilight snootily, as he rolled his eyes and scoffed deridingly "You'll never turn on anyone like that. Go ahead and put that back on."

Irked and unnerved, the noble glared silently - yet, with brusque movements, complied with the other's order anyways - whereas the blonde male chuckled and shook his head at them, which led the Kuchiki noble to clench his teeth even tighter, jaw growing numb.

That blonde varlet was unmistakeably mocking them, and, quite visibly, enjoyed doing so too.

Sitting up from his reclined position, Jugo's features changed yet again as he gazed at the other two with half-lidded eyes, speaking lethargically in a soft, velvety smooth voice: "When you're asked to take your clothes off, it's not just about getting undressed."

One of the blonde's hands then rose and slowly went to set itself on the other, gently touching down, finger after finger, all while Jugo didn't once change his expression or the timbre of his tone, as he carried on talking.

"The directive in itself demands a show. As such, it all has to have a certain...sensuality to it."

The hand was now delicately inching its way, leisurely alternating between deft touches as the gloved fingers made their gradual ascension up the Twilight's arm.

"Slow and seductive."

Reaching the shawl upon his shoulders, the seeking digits caressed a few rumples in the cloth, before heading all the way to the left-hand corner, where the knot held the garment together.

"Teasing. Tempting. Inciting."

Instead of taking off the cloth, the fingers skirted around the issue, dancing around the knot, touching it, but not yet removing it, before suddenly, in one swift movement, the knot was undone and the shawl slipped free from the blonde's slender shoulders.

"And make, whoever is watching, dying to see more."

Somewhere through his illustration, a few stray strands of his pale hair had fallen across his face and shaded his eyes, giving them a predatory allure, a magnetic effect, a daring toxicity...

And despite being highly put off by their entire situation, neither Ichigo nor Byakuya had the ability to look away from the other, stilled stiff like ones would be under a Medusa-like stare.

It was only when Jugo shifted his gaze, laughing darkly, that the other two came back to their senses, dazed and blinking confusedly.

The pair hesitantly, warily focused back on the Twilight - seemingly racking their brains as to what just happened - but the blonde, though wildly entertained by their bewilderment, merely nodded in their direction, denying them the possibility to dwell on the matter: "Again."

Retaining in mind that unknown 'consequences' lingered and lurked like a Damocles sword should they refuse, the noble and the teen once again wordlessly did as they were told, both attempting their best to imitate what the other had just showed them.

Only, their movements were all fingers and thumbs, clumsily inept at incorporating grace and suave in their undressing - Ichigo more so than Byakuya at least - with their restlessness and mortification as additional hindrances.

So much was their tension, the dark-haired male ripped at a corner of his close-fitted jeans, and the teenager barely caught himself from tripping as he struggled to remove his boots.

And it did not help that the blonde was sniggering from behind his hand every now and then.

Dumping their shed clothes to the side and now standing stiffly in nothing but their underwear shorts, the pair slowly shifted their attention to the blonde, anxiously awaiting the next step. But apparently, they were still stuck in the first one.

"I never asked you to stop, did I?"

Letting out a shuddering, strained breath and closing his eyes, the young orange-haired male, though highly reluctant, braced himself, removing the last article of clothing at the same time as the vividly glaring shinigami captain.

Now that they were completely stark-naked, the blonde, features expressionless, took his time to eye them from head to toe, heightening the pair's humiliation even further.

Along with the unbearable silence, it wasn't enough that Jugo was scrutinizing them in detail, lazily running his gaze along every inch of their bodies, but that he'd purposely go on and let his stony green eyes linger between their legs, was mortifying to no end.

Face burning red, the teen instinctively reacted, hands jumping forwards to block the other's view, before he scowled at the blonde, who in turn just snickered scathingly prior to shifting his attention to the dark-haired male.

Unlike Ichigo however, Byakuya remained absolutely still, still as a statue, with fists clenched tightly to his sides and his head held up, if not high.

No mistake to be made, he too was outrageously uncomfortable and, mostly, degraded by this situation, but he had no desire whatsoever to give the blonde the satisfaction of knowing how he really felt...beyond the fact that his eyes - so expressive, as it had been mentioned by Aizen so many times (4) - were surely darkened with murderous rage by now.

Again, just like earlier, Jugo and Byakuya found themselves at a standstill, the air around them thick with hauteur and hostility as they darkly glared daggers at each other, with the teen once more wondering why the blonde was this adamant on acting so bizarrely with the noble.

Humming pensively to himself, the blonde cast one last, long, calculating look over their bare figures, before uttering yet another directive as he casually rid himself of his gloves: "Now touch each other."

Despite the clarity of the order, the two froze entirely, along with Ichigo's jaw dropping open.

"Was that far too vague for you?" inquired Jugo incredulously as neither moved, before he stared straight into their widened, horrified eyes "Or was it too complicated? I can't tell."

"I- I don't think that's a good idea," voiced Ichigo nervously, stammering without meaning it, letting out words to which the blonde's green eyes instantly narrowed.

"Didn't you get a word I tired myself telling you just now? What did I say about disobeying?"

"No, I-! I have no intention to!" exclaimed the other hurriedly, really not looking forward to the Twilight jumping to hasty conclusions.

Truthfully, upon the blonde's order, Ichigo had instantly recalled that Byakuya had told him - and Grimmjow - that he was not used to nor fond of being touched, for various reasons (2).

Swallowing uneasily, the distraught teen cautiously attempted to say what he meant, but his restlessness deprived him of a clear fluency: "It's just- He and I don't- We- I really don't want him to be uncomfortable. He doesn't get along with me that well, so I really don't think-"

But he didn't get to carry on as Jugo burst out laughing, whilst Byakuya stared at the teenager, astonished and powerless to utter a single word.

At first, the 6th Division's captain had been confused as to why the teen had voiced his initial disagreement - initially supposing that it had to do with apprehension of the act in itself - but when he heard that the young orange-haired male's arguments involved him in person, the dark-haired shinigami was at loss for words.

Though not quite yet used to it, the Kuchiki knew by now the other to be caring and gallant to a fault, however he would have never imagined that, even in their actual predicament, Ichigo would persist and try to put the noble's wellbeing before his own. Just how selfless could this boy be?

"Oh, you poor, poor child. Sex is sex. You don't need to 'get along' with someone in order to fuck them," commented Jugo sardonically, chuckling still, before he paused and amended his statement with a smirk "Or rather, have them fuck you, which is far more accurate in your soon-to-be-case."

Despite shuddering at the crudeness of the Twilight's words, the young male still tenaciously held on to his point of view, vehemence fuelling his tongue: "But forcing someone - anyone - into it against their will doesn't make it right! S-Sex is...is supposed to be done with someone, not to them!"

By now, the teenager's whole frame was trembling, lips tightened, but with his locks shading his eyes, the noble couldn't tell if he was shaking out of distress, loathing, anger...or all three.

As for Byakuya, in addition to the suffocating humiliation and horror, he had this strongest - and utterly ludicrous - impulse to make the blonde male just keep his mouth shut, the latter's contemptuous voice and obscene words grating on his nerves, likes fingernails on chalkboard.

Only, the Kuchiki's tongue felt like lead in his mouth, too heavy to use. His rigidly clenched fists however, were feeling incredibly light at the moment...

Noting the dark-haired's anger darken even further out of the corner if his eye, the Twilight smirked malevolently, but kept his rapt attention on the orange-haired male for the meantime.

What could he say? Although he had been given clear instructions, Jugo couldn't help but be rather intrigued by the teen. He was just...so interesting, both in his reactions and in mind-set.

"Do you really expect anyone here to see it your way? You're so gullible, dear boy. So naïve. What are you, sixteen?" jested the blonde male tauntingly, an eyebrow arched upwards as he smirked with broad mockery, finding the young male's humanity oh-so candid and juvenile.

The Twilight felt like laughing again. How cute.

But when Ichigo startled badly at his question, alarmed shock to his painfully honest features, the blonde male's snide expression fell, stony green eyes going wide: "Oh, wait. ...You are?"

Not needing confirmation as the question had been totally redundant given the teen's reaction, this fact seemed to throw off Jugo entirely, his features now completely and utterly blank.

'It is best not to let anyone know of your age, Ichigo. Patrons and dolls alike,' had said Aizen, so the young orange-haired male was genuinely horrified by how quickly he was found out.

A tense moment passed - with even Byakuya rather concerned as to what this person might do with this newly acquired information - prior to the blonde standing up again, slow and swift, and, this time, wordlessly making his way over to where the stiff Shinigami Substitute stood.

As he reached the young male, the noble watched on warily as the blonde male - features still unreadable - let his eyes roam over the young male, assessing the latter all over again with even more attention than earlier, as if, probably, seeing the teenager in a new light.

Breathing restless and strained but standing as immobile as he could, Ichigo tried to not let the other's silent, critical scrutinising bother him, staring hard at the wall beyond the blonde's shoulder in order to give him a focal point. But the whole situation was just too unnerving, and he could hear his own heart thumping erratically, like a beating drum. ...What now?

"Oh," uttered Jugo eventually, before a lovely, amiable smile gradually graced his features, yet not a drop of it was genuine, all artificial "Ok. I'll take your age into consideration then."

However neither Ichigo nor Byakuya were left reassured or at ease by the blonde's pretty fake smile. And quite rightfully so.

As suddenly as it had appeared, the beaming features brutally vanished, leaving room to an ever colder expression than anything seen prior to now, as the Twilight sharply wrapped an unrelenting hand around the teenager's neck in a bruising hold, and clamped down hard.

With the young male struggling to take in air, Byakuya, alarmed, took a rushed step forward, ready to interfere, but before he do anything else, the sound of a loud crack rattled the air.

In his free hand, Jugo was now brandishing a whip, which came from absolutely nowhere - unless it had been concealed somewhere on his person - before he gave the stilled, stunned noble a cool, dark look as he spoke commandingly: "If you don't mind, candy boy, back off."

Whereas the Kuchiki noble - though narrowing his eyes in response - was too taken aback to do further, Ichigo, somewhere between aggravation and distress, tried to pry himself free from the other's iron grip, but it was to no avail. Though physically lean and lithe, the blonde male was absurdly and ridiculously strong...

"If you start believing in rubbish like that now, you'll be nothing but a wreck for the rest of your existence here, boy," stressed out the Twilight viciously - now focusing on the teen and lessening his hold so the other could breathe and focus on what Jugo was saying - before his icy eyes grew even darker, harsher "A person having sex with another. Do you know what it means, when it happens in a place like this? When something like that happens, it means not acknowledging the partner on the receiving end, looking down on them. Most people want what they've never had. To embrace the forbidden. So they come here to get what they want, when they want it, with whom they want it, without anyone to stop them. There's no freedom in Débauche for the dolls. You'd better get used to it."

Horror-struck, distraught Ichigo felt as though the Twilight's words had burnt him, scalding his soul, making his entire being poisoned and rotten.

He wanted to curve over and retch all that noxious pain out. However, just before reaching the point where he'd fully dislike the other for making him feel this way, he realized something. That this screaming, searing, poisonous pain presently pervading him deep down, wasn't his...

Before Ichigo could dwell any longer upon this strange occurrence, Jugo swiftly pulled away, breaking contact and taking that vivid sensation of pain away with him, leaving nothing but a slight sick feeling to the teenager's stomach and a slow growing question in mark in his mind.

Both unaware of what the young male had just underwent, with Jugo overlooking Ichigo's present quietness either as submission or fright, the noble moved a little closer to the teen, carefully checking if the latter was alright, to which Ichigo nodded mutely with a small smile.

Aware that the teenager wasn't being fully sincere, the shinigami captain sighed softly, before shifting his grey eyes to glare witheringly at the blonde, just as the latter began to speak again.

"In Débauche, it is a must to fulfil a patron's desire. Anything they want, anything they wish, you will give and provide to your full potential. If they ask you to touch another, you'll have to do it. Hence, exploring is important. Knowing what and where to touch, when to do it, how to do it, with all the erogenous areas and pleasure points hidden in the body to be found and exploited at their full potential," enunciated Jugo imperturbably, smoothly falling back into his character as the pair's 'mentor', all while maintaining the other two males' glares with a dark, unrelenting look of his own.

Threateningly rearranging his whip with slow, measured, conspicuous movements, the blonde Twilight drawled out steadily, a snide smirk to his lips as Ichigo and Byakuya tensed again: "Now, I won't ask a third time, boys. Touch each other."

Jaw clenching painfully as to not speak - scream - his mind, the noble immediately closed his eyes tight shut, as the weight of the situation finally dawned on him, no longer able to deny it.

Images swam throughout his head as he found himself recalling how the former Arrancar had - though upon Aizen's orders - forced his way into him, and Byakuya honestly did not know if he could withstand such an assault ever again. Or rather, as his soon-to-be-case, on a regular and repetitive basis.

...Was this what he was to be reduced to? Was there nothing he could do or say against this? No, of course not. He gave himself up to the immortal, unwillingly, but he still did. Byakuya had done it to spare, to protect those he loved. Hence, it was fairly clear to him by now that he had no choice. But he just couldn't- He was unable to-

Upon feeling an uncertain, unsteady hand slowly set upon his bare arm, the dark-haired male slowly opened his eyes again, silently taking in the young male beside him, seeing the latter's eyes desperately convey how apologetic and just as reluctant Ichigo was about this.

When he saw that Byakuya had withdrawn himself entirely and remained utterly immobile, the Shinigami Substitute bravely took it upon himself to initiate the blonde male's directive, not quite daring to draw whatever consequence their delay might bring.

Nervous, he was distinctly on edge - vividly aware of the other's inhibitions - as he tentatively laid his fingers upon the noble's warm, bare skin, and when the Kuchiki focused on him, his apprehension heightened as he wondered how mad the other was by his impulsive decision.

Still silent and unmoving, grey eyes unhurriedly lowered to glance at the teenager's hand, and from the latter's perspective, it almost looked like the noble was considering ripping his limb apart. Not wishing to risk upsetting the 6th Division's captain further than he already was, the teen began to pull away, but, before he could get too far, the Kuchiki quickly caught his hand.

Startled, Ichigo darted his widened, worried eyes upon Byakuya's unreadable expression.

Ever so slowly, the dark-haired male wordlessly drew the young male's hand upwards, up to the level of his shoulder, before carefully, gently setting it there, his grey eyes never leaving the young male's brown ones.

Blinking at first, the Shinigami Substitute quickly found a sense of familiarity in this position (2), and his increasing anxiety fell down a notch, the tension in his frame lessening a little.

Though it was utterly unnerving, Ichigo tried to hold the other's gaze and concentrate on it solely, his brown eyes mutely pleading for some sort of guidance from the noble, hoping that, if the latter organized their movements, the following moments would go easily for them.

But for Byakuya mostly. Because, for some reason, Ichigo had that sinking sensation again that something very bad was going to happen to the Kuchiki noble.

He just couldn't tell when.

000000000000000000000000000000000000

Dire straits

And dirty consequences

An invitation

To your personal disaster

(Can't Sleep, Can't Breathe, by Digital Daggers)

Amidst the noise and chatter, Grimmjow - out in the far corner, where he stood guardedly - stared, blue eyes darting hither and thither, feeling somewhat disorientated and out of place.

After being dragged around by that hulking, brute of a man in a suit, the latter had shoved him into the grand, main hall from earlier, before telling the former Espada that tonight was a 'Mingle Night' and that he ought to just do his job until the 'Open Hours' were over.

And then the man left, just like that, leaving the blue-haired male with a heap of questions - for, despite knowing the basics of what Débauche was (as Aizen had once brought him here), a lot had changed since then - in addition to a growing sense of uneasiness.

Back in the Hueco Mundo, running into a fellow Hollow was a scarce occurrence - unless the Hollow was initially travelling in a herd - and any hordes were an even a rarer happenstance.

So, with the hall packed and gushing with so many people - a far cry from how empty it had been before - Grimmjow felt that he had been thrown into the water, and that now, he was drowning. Not the most pleasant feeling.

With lavish, ornate masks to conceal their identities, the crowd of people, of every gender, were neatly trimmed and pristine clean, all of them wearing distorted depictions of wealth made to appear transcendent, refinement to their movements and panache to their voices (5).

Grimmjow rolled his eyes with disgust. He might no longer be human, but that didn't mean he was a fool. It was common knowledge that people of power were the ones with the sickest and most twisted of tendencies, hence them being in a place like this.

The feline wasn't in the least bit intimidated, but he did sense himself to be rather ill-at-ease. And this vibe of pressure - under the guise of an unforthcoming and inimical glare - seemed to have its effect, as none of those who glanced at him - although seemingly engrossed by him, eyeing him with fascination and awe - seemed to have the necessary courage to approach him.

Instead, they'd gravitate, like merciless bees, over to other dolls that enticingly cut the crowd.

A subtle, smug smirk touched his lips. Having them far too craven to get close was a feat that could definitely be to his benefit. Now, all he had to do was figure out how the freaking hell-

"Hey. You don't seem to be busy. Do you think you can-?"

Blue eyes wide, the stiffened male glanced to his side to glimpse a young, petite yet tall childlike-looking girl, her gloved hand patting at his arm as she sought to catch his attention.

Grimmjow was quick to recognize her, despite her being dressed very differently - wearing a pair of faded jeans and an oversized white sweater, along leather brown ankle boots, darker brown gloves and a thick choker for accessories.

It was that magenta-haired girl that had bumped into Ichigo earlier. And if the blue-haired male guessed it correctly, she 'worked' here too, right?

Cue to his stunned reaction.

None of the dolls - apart from Leona when she had escorted him and the other two, and also Millie and Tora, as the latter pair had washed and dressed them - had willingly interacted with him so far, yet alone touched him - at least not in a normal way.

Truth to be told, apart from the show of unconditional spite or when they had to no choice but to pitch together, the dolls seemed to be highly reluctant to interact with one another, period.

The surprise must have figured on his features because she paused, her large magenta eyes looking for something to suggest that she had it in any way wrong, before she tilted her head: "You are a doll...right?"

"Fuckin' unfortunately," he drawled out bitterly, reigning in his former reaction as an irritable glare crossed his features instead and he harshly dug his hands in his pockets.

"I know, right?" she remarked lightly with a one-armed shrug, before reflectively looking him over, notably taking in his build and face in detail "Well, you are all muscle, compared to the scarce demographic of guys here. Also, you have a scary face - no offense - but that's a plus."

Quirking up an incredulous eyebrow at her mumbled musings, Grimmjow stared as she eyed him a little longer, before she nodded to herself, and then asked him: "Want to come with?"

"...Where to?" he asked coolly, despite his wary stare and the careful vigilance in his stance.

The blue-haired feline hadn't forgotten - when he and the other two had crossed paths with her earlier - the very odd sensation of deadliness emanating from this seemingly ordinary girl.

Her features were the epitome of blankness. She showed nothing, and was impossible to read.

"See, I need to have an intimidating impression, for this meeting I've got right now. But as you can most assuredly tell, I can't really claim to make that kind of impact. Help a girl out?"

Her description contradicted entirely what the former Arrancar had just mentally pointed out.

With a youthful appearance accentuated by her lengthy twin pigtails, she very much looked like a little girl, with a soft, sweet lilt to her juvenile tone of voice. A portrayal of innocence.

But, eerily enough, the blue-haired male was not swayed by any of it. She looked...artificial. And her features, her iridescent eyes in particular, were very cold. Very cold. Ice. Frozen.

True, she didn't appear dangerous, but she undeniably felt dangerous. And, for some reason, just as intimidating. She gave off this vibe, this aura, which only an idiot would dare provoke.

The how and why pertaining to the danger she felt like, were where he couldn't make it clear.

Still on his guard, the feline drawled out lazily, shrugging: "What's fuckin' in it for me?"

Blinking her large eyes up at him, she looked somewhat taken aback as she uttered: "Sorry?"

"What do I fuckin' get if I help you?"

The girl nearly smiled, broadly entertained. Sosuke was right. This piece of work had attitude.

"Well, first of, I can offer a night free of the nasty," she suggested sombrely - skilfully hiding the humour she was feeling under a perfect mask of aloofness - before highlighting what truly mattered to her "But, let's see how well you help me out. And then, we'll figure something."

"I've got no fuckin' guarantee like that," observed Grimmjow, his vivid blue eyes narrowed with scepticism "You could be lying."

"I could be. But, if you don't tag along, you'll never know, right? Got anything to lose? Or maybe it's just that you're too chicken?"

Knowingly biting at her bait but too peeved to care, the blue-haired growled out, tone low: "Lead the fuckin' way, girl."

"Atta boy," she praised dryly, easily ignoring him when he glared at her, before she gestured for him to follow "Let's go."

Taking the corridor on the right, the feline closely shadowed the girl as she led the way, the resounding clamour of the crowded hall dying little by little with every step further they took.

"What's your tag?" she questioned after a moment, her tone candied and childish, despite the chilling and eerie emptiness it held.

"Pantera," replied the blue-haired feline smoothly, relatively used to the appellation by now. Aizen had utilised it a lot beforehand, on several separate occasions, so... It wasn't that new.

"Ok. I'll have to keep that mind," she stated with a nod, noticing his detachment upon voicing his tag, before her focus strayed to the side all of a sudden "Wait. Pit stop. Give me a second."

Shifting from her initial trajectory, the girl gracefully sauntered over towards one of the doors and knocked upon it, loud and firm, before taking a step back and waiting unwearyingly.

She didn't have to wait long as, barely a few seconds later, the door opened briskly, revealing that blonde Twilight guy from earlier, with an impatient, irritated expression to his features.

To say that Grimmjow was staggered was an understatement. Given that all the doors within the hallway looked exactly the same, how would one so easily know which one was which?

Upon seeing who it was, the blonde glared at the girl and hissed out venomously: "I'm busy."

Unimpressed by his belligerence, the magenta-haired girl merely raised her eyebrows at him, arms crossing, voice bored stiff: "So am I. But we both know why I'm here. How's it going?"

Apart from a twitch of his eyebrow, his features remained rigid as he seethed out: "Perfectly."

At that, despite keeping a straight face, her tone shifted towards a more scathing pitch, as if holding back a snicker, but quite clearly making fun of him: "You usually lie better, Jugo."

Jaw clenching with aggravation, the blonde Twilight stubbornly stayed silent for a moment, before he shook his head and sighed heavily with annoyance: "I can't get a reaction. At least not one that was truly intended. As loathe as I am to admit this, maybe you should take over."

Jugo then eyed her with a striven look, as though it really pained him to admit such a thing to her, but, this time, she really did respond with a scoff, a very brief deriding flicker in her eyes.

"That wasn't what was asked of me," she reminded frigidly, mien still outwardly impassive, before she then pointed at him for emphasis "This is your job."

"Which is becoming a problem for me. Suzuki-sama is expecting a report later on in the night, but I won't get anywhere if it carries on like this. And I am not putting up with it longer than I have to," declared the blonde in a heated whisper, his tone almost bordering upon hysterics, before he lowered his head a little, features taut "Help me out. Please."

While Grimmjow had been listening and perked up more attentively at the mention of Aizen's name in this place, the girl wordlessly considered the blonde with a vacant expression, before she exhaled heavily and then, standing on the tip of her toes, whispered in the Twilight's ear.

Their discussion now on mute to his ears, the feline could only watch as Jugo listened intently to the voice at his ear, his stony green eyes growing wider with every word she uttered to him.

As she pulled back, finished, the Twilight slowly arched an eyebrow at her: "Are you sure?"

"When done to the right people, nothing stings as much, believe me," she revealed loosely, her features not betraying a single hint of emotion. It was currently just as empty as her tone...

Chilling.

Jugo seemed to be deeply considering whatever he had been told, before eventually nodding: "I'll give it a go."

"You do that," she waved off impassively, before she wordlessly beckoned for Grimmjow to follow as she began to stroll away, leisurely throwing to the blonde one last titbit of advice "And if it works, I'd brace myself if I were you."

Trailing after the magenta-haired girl as she walked off, the former Arrancar glanced over his shoulder at Jugo who - upon catching those blue eyes trained on him - winked flirtatiously and then smirked wickedly, lethal pretentiousness returned to his features, before he retreated back into the room and shut the door to the blue-haired male's face.

Brow furrowing, the feline found himself rather curious as to what the blonde's conversation with the girl had just been about - other than he could tell that it had been fishy beyond doubt.

And, if he recalled well, weren't the Twilights whom the child of chaos had specifically asked for to 'take care' of both Ichigo and Byakuya? Were those two even alright to begin with, wherever they were at the moment? Questions and even more questions, would they ever end?

Carrying on their way down the hall, they didn't stop until they reached the very end, where a door - similar to all the other doors of the hall, cream-coloured with golden knobs - stood facing them. Via a small bronze key, the magenta-haired girl unlocked the door, opening it on a dim and narrow stairwell that led downwards, before - after pocketing the key again - she turned on a switch and started descending the stairs.

As the two went down for a while, they came across yet another door - this one of steel and metal - and, just as Grimmjow was questioning the number of doors this place had, the girl halted in her footsteps and spoke up to the blue-haired male with a severe tone of seriousness.

"What's going to happen now, is that I'll be talking to these guys and I need you to just look as mean and as intimidating as possible," she explained monotonously, all while she daintily rearranged her make-up with the tips of her fingers "So bring out your battle face."

"My...battle face?" repeated Grimmjow disbelievingly, staring at her as if she had suddenly grown a second head, whilst she rolled her eyes with a sigh, before curtly turning to face him.

The blue-haired male was clearly wary of her, undeniably sensing what most uncommon folk would when around her. And yet, he did not seem afraid - cautious, but not afraid - actually talking back to her, not an ounce of respect in his tone.

She briefly wondered if this is what Sosuke had to put up with from this rebellious guy's part.

Filing that for later, she recalled something else, looking at him with significance: "One more thing. Don't interfere, at all."

"So, be a fuckin' prop with a scary face," stated the former Espada dryly, nodding his head with a deadpan expression "Got it."

"You a real charm, aren't you? How refreshing," she pointed out sarcastically, shaking her head at his words, before she closed her eyes and, taking a long, deep breath, opened the door.

Beyond the entranceway was a large and vast basement-like area, lightened just enough for darkness to still be present, shadowing the corners, in which were stashed several crates.

As the girl gracefully walked on forth, the blue-haired feline's eyes strayed off quizzically, his steps slowing down a bit as he eyed the mountains of wooden, mildew-scented crates.

Some of them, with the lid halfway open, held a messed clutter of many undiscernible...stuff. But when getting a little accustomed to the lighting, it was possible to make out what looked like to be many faceless heads and lifeless limbs, protruding gruesomely at impossible angles.

The blue-haired male's first reaction was to cringe, shivers running down his back. However, upon tentatively looking again, he recognized those parts to be just like the 'body' he was in.

Ok... That aside, what were those things? Spare parts? Future victims? ...Previous victims?

Nope. These were questions, on the other hand, he really didn't need or want answered. Ever.

Shoving all of that away and speeding up his pace to join the child-like girl further ahead, the feline pulled himself together, focusing all his attention on the scene gradually coming to be.

In front of them, stood two middle-aged and elegantly clad men - one tall and lanky with an agreeable face, and the other small and stout, his mien unpleasant and hostile - with two other men accompanying them, much younger and with a thug air to their clothing. Grimmjow even sharply spied the figures of firearms concealed in the latter two's oversized vests.

Behind them, a big, black sleek van - with no license plate - and further in the back, a metallic curtain of what looked like an immense garage door, sealed shut.

With an eerily lifeless and frozen smile now plastered to her lips, the magenta-haired girl gave the two men a courteous reverence, her stagnant tone decorous: "Good evening, gentlemen."

"Pleasure to see you again, dear," stated the tall man, just as cordially, a soft smile to his face.

"Yes," muttered the small plump man, glaring hotly at her "That sure is the keyword. Again."

As the tall, lanky man stiffened, the girl, face blank other than her stilled smile, lethargically turned her gaze towards the other.

"Something troubling you, Majima-san?" she asked politely, head tilted as she observed him.

"There is. Where. Is. Suzuki-san? I'd rather deal with him than his cunt errand girl," snarled Majima spitefully, nastily, while the young men sneered and the lanky man inhaled sharply.

Even the former Arrancar was very much taken aback by the man's blatantly audacious insult.

Blue eyes promptly darted over to check what her reaction to the slur was, but to his big surprise, her features were still impassive, not a twitch in her expression. Nor an alteration in her voice, as she slickly countered back just as loosely: "As far as I know, aren't you also here on your boss's behalf? Wouldn't that make you his errand boy, Majima-san?"

The feline watched, subtly amused, as vivid vexation coloured Majima's features, before the latter glared darkly to the side and seethed angrily under his breath: "Fuckin' bitch."

As Grimmjow's eyes narrowed this time - leading the two young men to tense - while the girl once again didn't react at all, the lanky man hastily tried to save face: "Oh, come now. How horrid. Must you be so rude? To this darling girl on top of that? Have you no shame?"

"It is quite alright, Fukaku-san. Majima-san is entirely free to express himself," she offered generously, her entire demeanour now replaced by an epitome of sugary loveliness, her words causing the short, plump man to snort, but the man named Fukaku just laughed nervously, manifestly not agreeing with her.

Focusing back on the pugnacious, stout man, the girl gave him a fraudulent air of benevolent understanding: "I totally sympathize with your frustration, Majima-san. However, the Master is a very busy man, as you well know. He has yet to return from his business trip and he-"

"For this long?!" exclaimed Majima vividly, roughly cutting her off, before he demanded "Where the fuckin' hell is he?!"

Eyebrow twitching, the blue-haired feline suppressed a growl, the stout man seriously starting to get on his nerves, whilst a small, lucid part of his mind deftly assessed the actual situation.

Truth to be told, when looking very closely, it was a very curious perspective. While Majima got even angrier by the minute, Fukaku was getting more nervous, the two young men were getting jumpier, Grimmjow was getting even more irked - for some odd reason, because as far as he was concerned, he shouldn't be concerned - and the girl...

Well, the magenta-haired girl didn't seem to be affected at all by the growing sensations of palpable anxiety and ire permeating the air of tension around her.

On the contrary, she appeared to be become even more detached with every passing moment.

"I'm afraid I can't disclose that information," she stated lightly, her features poised "But what I can tell you is that he should not be for much longer. He'll be amongst us soon enough."

"Yeah, like next era, imbecilic slut," scoffed Majima irritably, sneering, which led the blue-haired - hopping mad and, yetagain, unable to register why - to be real fed up with that man.

There were just some people who couldn't - but really should - shut up.

The former Arrancar was about to take a step forward, but one glance from her, and he stilled.

It wasn't that her look had been threatening or menacing or the like. It just...didn't need to be.

"I told you not to interfere, Pantera."

Her silent stare, though brief and blank, harboured more power than did her simple sentence.

Appalled by his colleague's conduct, Fukaku turned hastily towards the girl with a profoundly rueful look, reverence in his tone as he bowed low to her: "Do excuse him. (Clears throat) Without further ado - and drag on this needless drivel longer - shall we begin, Gamine-chan?"

Puzzled, the feline had to frown at the way the man had addressed her. He did not remember it exactly, but he was sure that it didn't sound anything like what had Leona called her earlier.

Again, as large magenta eyes darted to lock with his, the girl's silence spoke a lot, and this time it sounded a lot like 'Don't. My name is not territory you'd ever want to venture in'.

After standing there waiting with a small smile, the lanky man called out to her tentatively upon seeing her attention averted: "Gamine-chan?"

Her magenta eyes leisurely shifted over to Fukaku, before mendacious pleasantness smoothly returned to her features: "Let's."

Smiling keenly as he nodded, the tall, lanky man hurriedly instructed the two young men to get a move on and head for the van's boot, which they hastily complied with.

After opening the back truck and hollering out brisk commands like 'move' and 'hurry it up', the two then reappeared, brutally dragging along someone with them with no struggle, before tossing them at the magenta-haired girl's feet.

As she eventually knelt down after a short beat of silence, the blue-haired male mutely studied the new addition to their group, the person with their head hung low at the level of their chest.

Figure fully limp, the latter was mostly skin and bones, dirty and bruised under scant, tattered rags, a whiff of decay stemming from their body. With long, messy hair covering their face, it was impossible to tell this individual's gender, although it looked somewhat like a young boy.

Features impassive again, the magenta-haired girl extended her hand towards the motionless figure, gingerly feeling for the other's chin and, upon finding it, gently lifting their head up...

Nothing readied Grimmjow for what he was now a witness to, a sickening feel invading him.

It... It was... There were no words for how horrifying it was.

Tough reluctant to find out, he had to wonder who had the ability to reduce a person - a child - to...this.

Shock overtook that nagging and uninvited feeling of anger, the latter fully disappearing - along with the little inquiries it came with - as though it had never been there in the first place.

His horror must have been tangible or the like, because not seconds after the feline went rigid, the girl stood up and reached out to him - pretending to retrieve something from his jacket - before she gave him a stern, no-nonsense look, whispering quietly: "Not a word, Pantera."

Struck speechless, Grimmjow couldn't have pronounced a single syllable even if he wished it.

He didn't need to be a human to figure out what he was seeing. Point in fact, due to not being human, probably made it easier for him to grasp what he was looking at right now.

With a gaunt, ashen, blank face, it was the boy's eyes that were the core reason for his horror.

They had no life in them. They were hollow.

The boy's entire being was just as hollow. He was almost like a Hollow.

Scratch that. He was less than a Hollow. He was totally and utterly empty. Even Ulquiorra, embodiment of nothingness and oblivion, paled in comparison.

Alive but dead, with an expression vacant and lax, eyes two pools of bottomless darkness... Raging, crashing, never-ending swirls leading beyond whatever void was within a black hole.

It was unsettling. Daunting. Haunting. A potential source of nightmares.

And the blue-haired could not look away, no matter how desperately he wanted and tried to. Worse, he had to wonder why his mind would think the most unlikely of things at a time like this. But, here he was.

This, had to be something Ichigo should never see. The kid would NEVER accept this...Ever.

000000000000000000000000000000000000

Ichigo's face was burning red, so red, it stood out even more than the teen's vivid orange hair. So that was pretty much saying something.

By now, he and Byakuya were somewhat kneeling awkwardly on the floor, their legs utterly incapable of keeping them standing up further, not with the burden of their unaccommodating emotions gradually weighing down on them with every action taken, every movement made.

It was dreadfully gruelling, much worse in levels of humiliation than what they had endured back in Las Noches (6).

And the main reason for that was, although they had been observed by Aizen back then, he hadn't been physically there where and when their sexual interactions had taken place. So Grimmjow had used that to their advantage and made them overlook the immortal's presence.

Currently, it was impossible to do the same, not only because Jugo was in the room - raptly watching their every single move - but he would also interfere, enunciating a few directives here and there when the pair were in the wrong.

They didn't even get them block him out, as he let his whip crack out warningly against the floor - very menacingly near to their bare skin - when they both tried to not heed to his voice.

Upon the Twilight's orders, the pair reticently, reluctantly explored one another, delving into each other's bodies with clumsy, chary caresses, fingers slowly tracing skin.

Avoiding each other's gazes in embarrassment and edginess, the two started their unnerving journey with tensed, heedful movements - handling each other as if they were made of glass, as though one simple indelicate move, would cause them to shatter and break.

However, as if having a mutual, mute understanding, neither allowed their hands to travel any lower than each other's hips, nor did they venture beyond each other's necks, leaving their lower parts and faces safe, untouched - all apart from their foreheads being unconsciously leant in together at some point.

Eventually getting a little bolder, the teen's touches were cautious, gentle and gradual, coming to an immediate halt whenever the noble would silently express his discomfort - through deep frowning or with his jaw clenching even harder still.

Knowing that, under normal circumstances, he would never be this close to the Kuchiki, the Shinigami Substitute couldn't help but be slightly curious as he carefully went about the dark-haired's lean, yet fairly well-built physique, wondering where was hid all his battle prowess.

The Kuchiki's hands, however, were a tad firmer, more rigid, in their approach, but courteous enough to avoid delving in too much - a soft hitch in the other's breathing an indicator to that.

Pale, slender fingers gradually ran over the soft cream skin of the other's youthful and trim figure, cautiously following the firm lines of young male's muscles and curves, secretly in awe as to the latter, despite his age, being far more well-off and sturdy in build than he was.

The 6th Division's captain curtly paused for a second when his hand brushed over the teen's pectoral area, feeling how rapidly the latter's rushed heartbeat was racing, but the noble didn't dwell on it long and swiftly moved on.

With the young male's features flushing even darker with horrified mortification, the Kuchiki respectfully opted not to embarrass the other further. It was the least he could do with all the consideration the teenager showed towards him.

They were so close - their breaths intermingled - that Ichigo could see how long and thick the other's eyelashes were - a feat that no amount of that shadowy grey makeup could change - as well as being dark enough to clash clearly against snow-white, flawless skin.

There was absolutely no point in denying it, Byakuya was truly beautiful.

And the noble noticed, for the very first time since he had known the teenager, the faint, near undistinguishable, freckles along the bridge of the young male's nose - there were also a few speckling his cheeks and a little part of his shoulders.

A redhead through and through... Quite endearing...thinking about it objectively, of course.

But, again, the disconcerting reality of their outrageous situation was so prevalent, steadily adding to their discomfort - unable to escape it or redirect their focus from it - that the two males felt horribly exposed, vulnerable, diminished, unsafe... Could there be anything worse?

"Why don't you have a go at kissing each other?"

It had been a while since Jugo had gone quiet, as he had been mostly centring his attention on scrutinizing the pair with undivided focus - trying to pick on what made them uncomfortable and, after creating a quick mental note on what he would detect, filing it for later use.

So when he spoke, and to demand that of them to top it all, both Ichigo and Byakuya's eyes, darting over to the Twilight, went incredibly wide as a strong sense of disquiet invaded them.

"Go on," pressured the blonde with a contemptuous smirk, causing the other two to glance back at each other, distressed eyes even wider than prior.

It wasn't a suggestion. The Twilight was serious about this.

...Alright. This, was definitely worse.

What's more, Grimmjow had kissed them both, but neither had done each other yet, and were both highly disinclined to do so - not at all at ease with the idea or with the action in itself.

In addition, Ichigo didn't want to make the Kuchiki more uncomfortable than he already was, and Byakuya believed that kissing was simply not to be done at this very moment. Or at any other time similar to this one for that matter.

Back in Las Noches, in all his defence, the noble had acted under duress, reaching out on his own accord to kiss the former Arrancar, in a gesture of desperation and irrationality. Despite having used that under the guise of an excuse to withhold his voice, with a more coherent and lucid mind, the noble would have never done that. And he would never do it again.

As the whip came slamming down with force upon the teenager's skin, drawing a pained yelp from the latter, the 6th Division's captain lowered his gaze and let out a quiet, strained sigh.

...Well, he wouldn't be the one to initiate it at least.

With the young male still reeling from the hit he just received - although the mark had already vanished due to the enhanced healing these bodies had - the Kuchiki swiftly reached out and took a hold of Ichigo's hands, startling the teen, before using them to steadily draw him closer until they were face to face again.

The noble then lifted one of the other's hands, raising it until he made it touch down upon his own face, right by the corner of his mouth before he stilled, staring straight back at the young male as the latter blinked, baffled and confused.

As the teen's gaze leisurely lowered towards the Kuchiki's faintly parted lips, he felt his own mouth run dry, a sudden, unsteady light-headedness weighing upon his being as he appeared to grasp what the dark-haired male was getting to.

Kiss Byakuya Kuchiki? Without mentioning that it seemed like a crime, it just was too surreal to be real. What was next? ...Kissing Aize-? No, no, no. Not even going there. That was a very dangerous territory. One he'd rather not venture on, ever.

Inwardly getting a grip, the teen tried to focus, brow furrowing in concentration as he moved, slowly inching his face closer, before he halted seconds away from other's lips...in hesitance...

Ichigo's gentle, concerned eyes flitted back up to meet the other's own, silently waiting for the noble to give him one hint that he had gotten the wrong idea.

But the shinigami remained immobile, resigned but composed, not once reacting in negativity.

So, after taking a deep, shuddering breath and bracing himself, Ichigo let his eyes gently fall shut as he readied himself to close the gap between them, head tilting slightly, and-

A sudden, curt knock at the front door, broke the tense, laden silence, making everyone in the room jump out of their skin.

Annoyance then flew across Jugo's features, evidently irritated at being disturbed, before he promptly stood up and marched off to hastily deal with the cause of their interrupted session.

"I'm busy," hissed out the blonde male venomously as he tersely wrenched the door open, and then engaged with whoever it was that stood in front of him.

With the blonde Twilight giving his back to them, the pair instantly took the opportunity to break apart. The noble swiftly retrieved his hands, which prompted the teenager to scoot away - but not too far, just in case - to give the other the necessary space, before lowering his head, his frame shaking as he held up a hand to cover his face.

...They had almost kissed. And the teen didn't know if he should be glad that they didn't. Or...

Upon seeing how embarrassed and agitated Ichigo seemed, the Kuchiki, could only feel sorry for the young male - it was impossible and inhumane not to - so he whispered quietly, gently: "Are you alright?"

Hand lowering a little, uncertain and ashamed brown eyes tentatively drifted over to lock with grey ones: "Shouldn't that be my line to you?"

An elegant black eyebrow rose at that: "No, actually. You shouldn't be asking me this at all."

Misled by the other's words and tone, Ichigo winced slightly, before offering a small, strained smile: "You're right. I guess that question was pretty dumb, all things considered, and-"

"You misunderstand me," murmured the dark-haired shinigami with a curt shake of his head, before he let out a soft sigh "I am not the one to be worried about. I am highly and extremely uncomfortable with this, I will not lie. But, for you to endure this..."

"I'm fine," said the teen quickly, way too quickly, before he hurriedly looked away when the noble narrowed his eyes at him sceptically "I'll get over it. ...Eventually. One day. But what's really bugging me, is bothering you. I can tell you'd rather be anywhere but here right now-"

"I'd rather die than be doing this."

Again, the noble's words came out harsher than intended, because it led the other to feel even guiltier than he already did: "I figured. So, I'm sorry. Very sorry."

Bewildered by the heartfelt apology, Byakuya then finally realized that the other was actually feeling really, really bad about this situation, probably even a lot more than he was letting on.

The noble then recalled something very specific the former Arrancar had expressed back then.

'He's too freakin' young for this, any of this.'

True, the sixteen-year-old boy had undeniably been through a lot - having his share of battles, of losses, of torment and suffering - which caused him to have a semi-mature point of view, but it didn't make him less younger. He still had a youthful, innocent side to him, because he was still a kid. And the noble was not making things easier for the teenager.

The Kuchiki did show some considerable amount of consideration - more than he'd usually ever allow himself to - near equivalent to the other's, but his reticence was greatly troubling the young male, who was most likely interpreting this behaviour as an aversion towards him.

However, contrary to popular belief, though Byakuya may not be fond of the young male, he most certainly did not abhor him. There were times were he would take out his aggravations, of any nature - past and/or present - on the Shinigami Substitute, but in truth that was uncalled for and he was quite aware of it. On a little less sympathetic note, he knew that Ichigo would not hold a grudge against him because he considered him a friend...when Byakuya didn't.

With a heavy sense of regret, the noble felt that he needed to do something to fix the situation.

"K- Young man. It's not you. You should not be apolo-"

Glancing over to the 6th Division's captain to see why he had stopped so abruptly, the young male, still quite distraught, saw the dark-haired shinigami glare daggers beyond his shoulder, so the teen too looked over in that direction, turning around.

Jugo was staring silently at them, leaning against the now closed door, with his arms crossed and his head tilted, regarding the pair with a deep, deliberative and pensive look.

Despite his expression not giving anything away, the Twilight had a rather deterring gleam in his chilling stony green eyes, and the young male was rendered only more unnerved by it.

The blonde didn't even seem to realize right away that the pair had shifted their attention onto him, and when he did, he waved them off curtly, inattentively: "Don't stop yet. Carry on."

It took them a few seconds of hesitation, still rather put-off by the new but very different and disquieting aura the Twilight was giving off, before they then did as told, wordlessly reaching out for each other again.

Whilst beginning a tad to get a hang of the physical contact, neither went back in for the kiss. But the blonde, strangely enough, didn't seem to mind, probably having forgotten. Or rather, he suddenly appeared a bit too preoccupied to pay any notice, looking straight at the other two males, but was not really watching them anymore.

After letting them carry on for a brief while, Jugo spoke up again as he leisurely made his way over towards the pair: "That'll be enough for now. We'll get back to all that eventually."

Pulling away with less haste then prior, the two separated a distance and got back up to their feet, rather tense as the Twilight neared them, before then coming to a halt as they all stood in a tight face-to-face triangle.

Features unchanged, the blonde, without a uttering a word, neared the stock-still teenager with measured movements, up until their noses almost touched.

Ice cold, green eyes not once leaving wide, wary brown ones, Jugo then slowly lifted his un-gloved hands, with deadly grace, and let them hover over the young male's body under the guise of a caress, yet not once coming in any contact with the other's skin, despite the lethal proximity of his gestures.

As the Twilight's hands lazily went up and down in the same manner, floating over every inch of the teen, the latter boldly stood his ground, despite very much wanting to pull back and run.

That screeching, harrowing feeling from before was gradually returning, and, although it was very faint - and Ichigo still had absolutely no clue as to what it was - it was there all the same. And he didn't like it. It was...smothering, for lack of a more accurate word to describe it.

Once he had mapped out the Shinigami Substitute's entire body, the blonde male moved to do the same with Byakuya, making the latter just as distressed and displeased, going totally rigid.

Repeating this uncanny whatever-it-was twice for each of them, it became clear to them that Jugo evidently had no regard whatsoever for the concept of personal space. And despite him having his hands to himself so far, it was as if he was all over and upon them.

With the inescapable intake of his sickly sweet-scented breath, that alone was suffocating and stifling enough to feel asphyxiated, like he was stealing all their air.

What's more, except for the faint sounds of breathing in the room, the stilled silence imposed by the blonde was oppressing, neither the teenager nor the noble knowing what to expect next.

"How sweet. And I haven't even touched you yet."

The Twilight then let out a low chuckle, finally taking a step backwards, whereas faint relief flooded through Ichigo and Byakuya both, able to breathe at ease once more, now that their personal space felt like theirs again.

"You do know that Suzuki-sama wants you both to be uke here, right?" informed the blonde suddenly, tone of voice conversational but chilling, before his stony, iced eyes drifted off in the teen's direction, the latter pretty much mortified by this unexpected and daunting turn the conversation had taken.

Humming contemplatively as he considered the teenager with an arched eyebrow, Jugo then uttered in complete seriousness: "Hm...Maybe not you, boy. If you play it right, that is."

In all retrospect, Ichigo sort of got why the Twilight would go and label him straight off the bat as an uke - given his palpable inexperience - and this, would probably be the case for a while. But to hear that the complementary position was also a possibility for him, was not a concept the orange-haired teenager could fathom as of yet.

A brief thought crossed the young male's mind leading him to wonder which one was less of a hassle. A second curt thought came kicking the other away. Not to be reflected upon now...

As the conversation stood its ground, the noble was at total loss, not at all following, a feat the blonde was quick to pick up on, smirking as he glanced conceitedly at the frowning Kuchiki.

Taking a step right back into the other's space, Jugo sneered disdainfully, snidely straight into Byakuya's hard, displeased features: "But you, candy boy... You seem to be easy prey-"

Not liking the implications despite not quite being on the same wavelength as the other, the dark-haired opted to glare darkly, his brow furrowing even deeper, but did not utter a word.

Up until now, Jugo had noted the noble reacting negatively towards him - no surprise there, Jugo was making it as such - in addition to being downright averse to his entire situation, loathing it with every fibre of his being. However, the raging, destructive indignation the noble was undergoing was quelled and controlled. And that, was a fact the Twilight would - could - not accept, as it needed to be known what it took to break that impeccable control.

Stony green eyes languidly tracing the dark-haired's features, the blonde male made a show of biting his lip with fake sympathy as he sucked in a sharp breath: "-what with all the...obvious issues you have."

Again, apart from his irate grey, silver eyes narrowing even further, the 6th Division's captain didn't say a thing, deeming it not worth it to give into whatever game Jugo was playing at.

Getting a little irked but not showing it, the blonde male decided to carry on with the flow he began with and give one last push, making use of the advice given by a little red devil.

"With Daddy, I'm guessing-" ventured the Twilight intrusively, before suddenly snapping his fingers, as if figuring it all out, his features sparking up "No, wait. Mommy more likely."

Totally taken aback by the other's vicious audacity, the Kuchiki's eyes widened a fraction, before they narrowed further, his fists clenching tightly till his knuckles became even whiter.

And though it wasn't much, it was enough to let the blonde male to know that he had indeed struck a pretty sensitive nerve.

"Yes, definitely Mommy. Her...not being around - maybe, hm? - left you totally unmindful of affection and warmth. Coupled with whatever other responsibilities, you have to hide behind the excuse of being indifferent. Only you care a lot more than you let on, don't you? Like what would dear Mommy think, should she see you where you are right now? A good thing she can't too," taunted Jugo scathingly, chuckling as he did so, enjoying every nasty effect his words were having on the steadily seething noble.

Byakuya was steadily losing his composure. Who did this...varlet think he was? How dare he presume to speak of his departed mother in such a manner? How dare he speak what he did not know of? ...But was rather spot on about, not that Byakuya would admit that out loud.

But instead of leaving things at that, the blonde Twilight gave one last vilification, one which he hissed out harshly, eyes fuelled with contempt: "She'd be rolling around in her grave right now, agonized at knowing that her beloved, baby boy...will be reduced to a fuckin' whore."

Ichigo just about gasped out aloud, utterly horrified. He definitely didn't like this. Not one bit.

It was like, ever since they had set foot in this room, Jugo was dead set on doing everything to antagonize the Kuchiki. And one glance at the Kuchiki told him that, this time, it had worked.

At the blonde's cruel, cold-blooded words, cutting deeper than any blade, Byakuya. Saw. Red.

At first too shocked to react, his features then darkened dangerously to all full-on wrathful ire.

Agreeing to a blinding, pent-up rage to detonate and fully reign over him at an alarming rate, the noble, no longer thinking straight, harshly balled up a fist, poised and ready to punch, as he seethed out venomously, with clear murderous intent: "How dare you, you-"

Right before the 6th Division's captain lashed out, the teen reacted fast, dashing forward and holding tight onto the other's wrist, his expression set and firm, despite the panic in his voice: "Don't! He's been provoking you since we got here! Bya-! (Swears) Just...stop! Get a grip! This isn't you!"

It took a good moment for Byakuya to register anything but that loud epic sensation of anger consuming him, though a minor more pragmatic part of his mind was alerting him that there was wrongness in giving in to it. But then again, the taste of limitless oblivion straight in the midst of a blind wrath, was simply too exquisite to relinquish. Its presence was justified after all. The blonde male had managed to insult him, his name and his departed mother all in but a couple of sentences and one very ugly, distasteful word. ...Unforgivable.

He didn't want to calm down. But he had to. The young male was right. This was unlike him.

"And, if I'm not wrong, Suzuki-sama did tell you that there were consequences if you dared to something along those lines, didn't he? Then keep yourself frequently in check, because these consequences are not something you'd ever want to see happen."

Slowly letting out a long, deep exhale, the noble steadily went lax under Ichigo's grip, forcing himself to calm down, narrowly recalling that it wasn't his safety that was on the line here...

The Shinigami Substitute had always found Byakuya's implacable sense of control amazing. The latter did get angry. And he'd most certainly show it. Calmly, with such deadly calmness that it was frightening beyond reason, much more so than say, Yammy Rialgo's anger.

As such, to witness the 6th Division's captain react like this was not only shocking, but it had never occurred to him that the noble getting livid - to the point of revealing it out in the open - would scare him this much. Ichigo was currently hoping to never have to face this ever again.

Granted, the blonde had thrown out the worst of insults - the teen himself wouldn't have been able to bare his dear, deceased mother to be dragged down in a vile slur and would have most likely reacted pretty badly - but Byakuya looked like he wanted to commit the most brutal and gruesome murder he could ever have carried out. Worse, even though deprived of most of the powers that made him who he was, the noble had seemed more than capable of making use of his bare hands to beat down - or maybe even maim - the blonde male.

But...then what? What would the shinigami captain's actions have led to? What would have been the cost?

Realizing that he had just prevented a rather ghastly occurrence, Ichigo shuddered, shaken...

After making sure that the dark-haired male wouldn't start off again, the teenager pulled his trembling hands away from the other, before throwing a horrid, critical scowl - one that was rendered much more intimidating with that touch of regal golden eye shadow - towards Jugo.

Only, the young male couldn't quite maintain that expression for long, total surprise adding itself to his features as he eyed the smirking blonde Twilight.

Jugo didn't seem fazed in the least. But, there was something oddly triumphant in his smile. Like, what the Kuchiki noble had almost done had been a reaction that he had been expecting - or perhaps wanting to happen - and now that it had, it was an accomplishment or something.

Ichigo's eyes went wide as a thought then occurred to him. Could it be-? Was this in any way upon Aizen's orders? If that was the case...why?

"Wow. It really is not that hard, is it?" stated Jugo blatantly, smugly smirking wide, whereas mostly talking to himself, and yet speaking loud and clear enough to be heard.

"Right, as always, that one. Well, she always really did know which nerves to strike. All you need to do is push the right buttons and we can get a real chaos out of you, hmm, candy boy?"

With the Kuchiki concentrating solely on remaining calm thus completely ignoring the other, the teen frowned, rather certain of what he had just heard, but not understanding it in the least.

'She'? Who was 'she'? Definitely not Aizen. ...That witch with two different blue eyes then? Man-something? ...Was it Manta? Was she the one behind this? Again, why? What the heck-?

"You," called out Jugo abruptly, nodding his head sharply in the teen's direction "Your tag?"

Becoming stiff under those unnerving stony green eyes - with no feelings of any kind other than those related to malevolence and spite - Ichigo spluttered out his new name, quick to get it over with, yet truly hating the way it sounded: "Sh- Shujinkou."

"Shujinkou?" repeated the blonde ever so slowly, an air of total disbelief to his features before he cracked up, his chilling laughter scathing "Holy hell, that's terrible."

"Don't remind me," muttered the young male bitterly under his breath, hunching his shoulders upwards and wishing he could find a hole right now, whilst Byakuya glared hatefully at Jugo - who had yet to stop laughing.

"Oh dear me, I can't breathe," gasped the blonde, deftly wiping away at the corner of his eyes, before he scoffed, waving his hand with theatrical elegance "No way could I possibly call you that. Something else will have to do. But let's try to keep to the theme of your tag, shall we?"

As a contemplative air flitted across the Twilight's features, the teenager, curious, watched on as Jugo tried to come up with yet another way to address him. The blonde's features then lit up with a beam and he clapped his hands together once, eyes shining with nasty derision as he bit his lip to keep from laughing again: "How about...little hero, hm? Oh, I know. Hero-chii."

"On second thought, my tag's fine," muttered the young male with a deep scowl, one which did absolutely nothing to deter the Twilight's amusement.

Oh, screw him. That blonde son of a gun was having way too much fun at getting them riled...

Still chuckling, Jugo then diverted his attention towards the dark-haired male: "And you?"

Byakuya, however, refused to utter a single word, needing imperatively to remain in control, but, after a minute, he did glance over to the teen with a nod, hence Ichigo spoke up instead: "It's Zakura."

"That I like," stated the blonde mockingly, staring directly at the 6th Division's captain but speaking about him as if he wasn't there "But I still prefer 'whore'. It suits him way better."

Although the teenager flinched, this time, the noble forcibly kept his calm, merely darkening his glare, leading Jugo to purse his lips, an eyebrow arched.

Well, the blonde Twilight certainly couldn't have that, not now that he knew that provocation eventually had its toll on the dark-haired male.

Deciding that their brief break was over and that they now needed to move on, the Twilight, smirking with sinister promise, focusing back on the young male: "Well then, Hero-chii. Why don't you bring me that first box over there?"

Dismayed due to the fact that this newer appellation was apparently going to stick, Ichigo scowled but did as he was told, marching over to where he had been designated to go where he picked up the box - both hands, barely registering how heavy it was - before charging right back and thrusting it out towards the blonde male.

Chuckling lightly, Jugo reached for the box, but instead of taking it, he opened it and took all his time to rummage through it, purposely aggravating the teenager further: "Hm, let's see."

The box was tilted at angle where Byakuya couldn't see what was inside from where he stood, but one look at the teen's rapidly paling face, was enough for the noble to not want to know.

Humming pensively to himself, the Twilight picked his way through the objects inside, before his features maliciously lit up with wicked intent, seemingly finding what he was searching for: "Ah. These will do. Here."

Taking the box right out from the young male's hands, the blonde male handed out instead to the teen what he had withdrawn from it, forcefully placing them in Ichigo's unwilling hold.

Two sets of cuffs.

Anger dimming, dread weaved itself back into the dark-haired's being, understanding now the teen's reaction, although he had an inkling that these were the least of worrying items in there.

"Zakura~" called out the blonde male with syrupy sweetness, earning disgruntled grey eyes upon him, which beheld the scorn and disdain to Jugo's features "Go lie down on the bed."

Jaw clenching tight with ire and a drastic rise of alarm, the Kuchiki threw a withering glare, yet eventually went off as told.

Upon reaching the bed, he paused in his step, rather unsure in which position to lie down. The Twilight hadn't been specific, but it didn't make things simpler for him. After a few seconds, the dark-haired male then opted to lie normally, on his back, modesty by long forsaken. And if this was not the position the blonde male wanted, the latter need but say so.

As the young male was too stressed out to focus on anything other than the menacing cuffs in his hands, the latter was startled out of his mind when the Twilight crept up from behind him - and bringing along with him that feeling once again - before whispering directly in his ear: "Now, Hero-chii, go ahead and cuff him up."

Appalled, Ichigo turned around and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything at all, Jugo cut him off, eyes narrowed ominously as a snide sneer touched his lips: "Don't tell me you can't, little hero."

Deflated, the anxious teen cast wide eyes in the stiffened noble's direction, the latter's tense grey eyes already upon him. Neither even knew what would happen if they didn't do what was asked of them. Nor could they begin to imagine what would happen if they conformed.

Inhaling sharply, the teen braced himself, walking up to the bed with stiff steps, trying to look everywhere but at the 6th Division's captain, and just as he was about to reach for the other's already outstretched hands - Byakuya aiming to facilitate things - the Twilight spoke up again.

"Hands behind his back, Hero-chii. Nice and tight."

Again, the young male's movements faltered, unable to convince himself to do this, despite the command in itself, as well as the Kuchiki noble allowing him to do as the blonde ordered - not out of blind obedience, but rather in an attempt to accommodate the teenager as much as he possibly could.

"Just do it," whispered Byakuya inaudibly, firm and loud enough for only Ichigo to hear him, before the dark-haired male readjusted himself, shifting over into a position on his side, so his hands were now held out behind his back.

Biting his lip hard, the Shinigami Substitute carefully kneeled halfway upon the bed, trying to get a better leverage to carry out his task, before his own skin brushed against the noble's, the contact and proximity electrifying, more so with how daunting this situation was becoming.

Ichigo, mortified, had practically forgotten about that they were in the nude, the near incident from prior hectic enough for this fact to fly totally out his mind. Hence, his unsteady hands coming in contact with the other man's skin was a shattering reminder of just how vulnerable and all out in the open this situation was coercing them to be.

A wave of sensations abruptly filled him, leading him to startle badly before he then stiffened.

It almost like the one that had been bothering earlier, and yet, very much different. Instead of it filling him with icky, hateful agony, it was drowning him in sheer desperation and dismay, his heart hammering loud, a sweat cascading down his brow...like he was the one about to be shackled and shamed.

Snapping out of it and acting hastily as to not dwell further on it, the teenager, with trembling hands - which gingerly avoided touching the other's pale skin again - enclosed the dark-haired male's wrists reluctantly within the cold cuffs, before a soft clicking sound was heard.

Steeling himself to endure whatever was to come, the noble couldn't help but feel a certain sense of dread, a familiar feeling of powerlessness creeping back throughout his being, when, all of a sudden, he backtracked and realized that he had heard only one of the cuffs being shut.

Wide, flabbergasted grey eyes flickered over to stare at Ichigo, who merely blinked once and then quickly averted his eyes, watching warily as the blonde male began to approach the bed.

There was no doubt that what the young male just did was intentional. Risky, but intentional. Despite failing to grasp the teen's reason for doing so, the noble could only be rather grateful and he hurriedly started to work a way to make use of this small and very welcome advantage.

Letting himself fall seated on the mattress with poise, Jugo smoothly reached out and took a hold of the teen's tense arm, before forcefully dragging the latter towards him and having him too lie down upon the bed, facing Byakuya but with enough room for them to not be too near.

"Now, give your hands up here, Hero-chii."

With concerned grey eyes upon him, Ichigo nervously did as he was told, and by doing so, he found himself with his hands bound above his head, cuffs hooked up and around a bedpost.

Leaning back for a moment to conceitedly admire his work, a sinisterly foreboding smirk to his lips, the blonde male then settled himself between the two, propped up on his shoulders as he lazily addressed the pair, regarding them each in turn through long, blonde eyelashes: "So, dearies, as it is your very first time here in Débauche, I'll be nice - just a little - and offer you boys a little something."

Due to the Twilight taking all his time to articulate, it served only to unnerve the anticipating pair, the suspense killing them, wishing this to be done and over with, and yet, not all wanting do whatever was to follow to begin with.

"Tonight - and tonight only - you have a choice as to what you'll learn initially," drawled out Jugo leisurely, his wide smile distressingly sadistic "So, what will it be? ...Anal? ...Or oral?"

A rush of emotions that were all from the negative zone came crashing down on Ichigo and Byakuya, features paled, their eyes all wide with unreserved horror, their breathing turned strained, as that one forbidding moment they had dreaded for a while, was now finally here.

"Choose wisely," warned Jugo, unrestrainedly revelling in the pair's terrorized expressions all while playing idly with long locks of his hair "You won't be getting another chance like this."

Painfully aware by now what male on male sex entailed on an overall overview, Byakuya was able to deduce what those two choices stood for. But, in all logic and honesty, he preferred to let Ichigo choose - as the latter was by far less at sea than he was - and, hopefully, could make a better choice than he would. Which was exactly what the silent and highly nervous teenager was trying to do.

Reasonably, the quicker they got this over with, the better. But there was the after to consider.

Being thrown into the water with minimal understanding of the field surrounding them was imprudent, and as much as neither wanted to be in this position, they couldn't flee from any of this. Nevertheless, where was the harm in stalling, even if it was just by a little?

Swallowing thickly, Ichigo, eyes lowered, let out a shuddering breath, before he said stiffly, his mouth running dry: "Oral."

Features impassive, the blonde male merely raised an eyebrow: "...Is that your final answer?"

Despite his heightened horror, the apprehensive teen stood firm with his decision: "Y- Yes."

Stubborn as he was, the young male was decided. He thought it best be aware than oblivious, as the latter factor had always played negatively in his past experience. Hence, he'd rather be confronted by the harsh reality than be buried deep down under an unclear ambiguity...

For a moment, Jugo was without reaction, expression utterly blank as he regarded the orange-haired teen, but he then cracked an appreciative grin as he gently worked his way off the bed: "Smart boy. Delaying the inevitable, if only by a little."

Ichigo startled. His approach had been seen through.

Once off the mattress, the blonde male headed over to the previously discarded smallest of the boxes - from where it had been left on the floor - and went through it again, before retrieving what it was he needed.

The Twilight then smoothly, tranquilly made his way back, moving to stand behind the young male, when the latter and the Kuchiki managed to catch a brief glimpse of the blonde's weapon of choice - a large, thick blue dildo, all length and girth. And at that, the two of them were both quick to give into distressed trepidation.

Besides it having been his first time, Ichigo had been in pain when Grimmjow had penetrated him, despite him being as gentle as possible. No way in holy hell was that...thing, going to fit.

"But you just said-!" began the teenager vividly, feeling terribly cheated, before he abruptly cut himself off as he felt something rubbery - that thing no doubt - leisurely, teasingly brush lightly against one of his ass cheeks, causing him to pale and shiver.

"Oh, you'll be doing oral first alright," affirmed Jugo with a condescending tone, chuckling viciously as he sat down - on his knees, right at the teen's back - before he lithely leaned over the young male, locking stony eyes with the latter's agitated ones "For that, I'll need you as involved as possible. And seeing that neither of you are hard at the moment... Well."

The Twilight then made a point to direct his stare straight at Ichigo's limp length, drawing a dark, mortified blush from the horrified young male who was quick to raise and close his legs - knees up to chest - hastily looking away and resisting the urge to bury his face in the sheets.

Entertained by the orange-haired's endearing reaction, the blonde male then shifted the dildo upwards, so it would stand out in the other two's line of sight, and took a tube of lube - which he had also taken from the box - before setting the cap between his pearly snow teeth, prying the tube open with a curt, firm tug.

With that done, he poured a charitable amount onto the tip of the dildo and then, after setting the lube down beside him, smeared the glop over the rubber item, working agonizingly slow.

Focusing on his task at hand, the blonde didn't glance in the pair's direction, but their distress was palpable, given their tensed silence and the way they fidgeted edgily - catching this from out of the corner of his eye - leading him to chuckle scathingly, morbidly and cruelly amused.

Deeming the dildo slippery enough, Jugo shifted his focus on the two other males, smirking wide upon seeing that the bound males had their eyes downwards, staring hard and pointedly at the sheets, bodies entirely stiffened, along with a faint flush to their panic-stricken features.

While Ichigo was quite fearful, Byakuya was downright terrified. Only, he didn't let himself show all of what he felt. ...He just couldn't. It would only be used against him if he did that.

Unwanted recollections of his time in Las Noches came to him without his consent, recalling hollow blue eyes burning through him as he had been brutally defiled, bruised and battered, penetrated by force, his being gripping onto but a small part of his mind that aided him remain silent during the whole ordeal, whilst everything else was overwhelmed by pain and pleasure. But really pain mostly. He barely recalled anything else but blinding, shattering pain. Pleasure at that time had been nothing but a simple side dish.

Heart hammering in his chest as his grey eyes fell tightly shut, he felt a series of shivers run through him, as a soft, shaky breath escaped past his lips, which he hoped no one heard.

He was no fool. The Kuchiki understood perfectly well that the former Arrancar had been a victim like him. But that experience had been by far one of the worst he had been through, without counting every time Aizen was all over him. That, however, was beyond comparison.

"Touches, kisses, masturbation, sex toys..." drawled out the blonde Twilight all of a sudden, startling both the noble and the teen, eyes warily darting at full attention as the other spoke "Foreplay is essential to those who enjoy it. And any lack of reaction, can be slightly vexing."

Rearranging himself, Jugo shuffled to lie down behide the young male, his lean figure pressed compactly against the other's body - his cold, stony green eyes locking provocatively onto the Kuchiki's wide, apprehensive ones - as his lips went to the teenager's ear, before the blonde male quietly, huskily whispered into it: "Ready for it, Hero-chii?"

"No wait, don't-!"

Eyes going incredibly wide, Ichigo quickly clamped his mouth shut as a strangled sound rose from his throat, just as Jugo firmly began pushing the dildo slowly in - after setting it in place and angling it at an adequate slant - past the very first rings of muscles to the tensed entrance.

"Relax," hushed the blonde softly in an unfeeling tone, whilst wearing a malicious expression, sadistically excited and enjoying what he was inflicting, as well as the feel of absolute power that came along with it.

Alarmed as the other tried to enter the alien object deeper, the Shinigami Substitute writhed, whilst stiffening up entirely, which accidently added more pain to the already piercing, cold invasion, squelchy with lubricant.

Ichigo vaguely heard the other tell him again to relax...Who the freaking hell was he kidding?

Shaking his head, the stricken teen couldn't bring himself to, way too stressed out to do so. Ichigo was rather aware that tensing up would only bring him pain, only nothing about this was making him comfortable. Regardless of that odd, unnameable sensation messing up with his senses, the teen actually felt quite ill, as he had to helplessly undergo the dildo prod press intrusively into him, straining against his tight and taut inner walls. ...These were walls made for expelling, not breaking and entering. At least, not the way it was currently being done.

Upon noticing Ichigo shaking horribly as the latter tried to keep quiet, the deft, slender fingers of the blonde's free hand crawled up, like a spider, to the teen's mouth, before prying it wide open - after forcing their way past the latter's lips. Thus, the young male couldn't muffle the sounds he was making any longer, desperate noises with a mixture of discomfort and distress.

Having underwent physical intimacy with Grimmjow first had been an unnerving experience, granted, but it had turned out to be one of trust and tenderness. And what had happened earlier with Byakuya had assuredly been intimidating, but at least the noble was a familiar face, and it was evident - though they weren't at all 'cosy' with each other - that they could, maybe in time, find some sort of solace in one another.

But here, right now, there was no warmth, no familiarity, no comfort. It was all frightening and unknown, frigid, unfeeling and heartless.

Worse, that very first oppressing, toxic, feeling from before? It was now tenfold in sensation, so crushing, coupled with the teen's growing apprehension, that he literally felt compressed by its imposing weight.

It was hard to breathe, impossible to think, and even his vision was starting to blur and fade. Ichigo couldn't tell which of his own anxiety or this disconcerting, eerie, uninvited feeling was worse.

The young male just... He wanted it to stop. And this, was although anything had yet to begin.

"Ease up, boy," repeated the blonde male yet again, brow furrowing with faint frustration as he found too much resistance to go more than a quarter of the way in "Gosh, you're so tense."

Yet again, the teenager resisted, resulting in Jugo's impatience, which prompted the latter in retrieving his free hand - drawing his fingers right out from the teen's mouth with a wet sound and a trail of saliva - and using it to harshly tug at unruly orange locks - earning a sharp yelp - before the blonde hissed meaningfully: "Lube can only help so much, boy. If you don't loosen up, I'll still get it in, but I'll hurt you so bad, Hero-chii. Rip you apart. Is that what you want?"

That overwhelming, poisonous feeling lessened a notch, slightly relieving the young male, and he went a little lax, heaving breathlessly, which caused the Twilight to smirk conceitedly, believing that it was his threat had had its effect.

Making use of the coating of lube, the blonde gradually worked the dildo into the Shinigami Substitute - steadily slipping it in a little, with far more ease than earlier, before pulling it back out, and then pressing it in a tad further, prior to repeating the process all over again - edging deeper every time, causing the mortified teenager's gasping to be louder with every inch.

By the time the blonde was in finally up until the hilt, Ichigo was a panting, shuddering mess. With a heavy sweat to his brow and his bound hands clutched tight, the teen had his eyes shut closed, gritting his teeth, but he ended up breathing out too hard, too loud as he tried to do so.

"Shush," whispered the Twilight with fraudulent gentleness, before he then gave the deeply embedded dildo a slight but sharp twist, causing Ichigo to jolt forwards, back arching, totally helpless to hold in the choked yell that flew out from him, whilst Byakuya lied utterly aghast.

"Oh my, what a lovely reaction! That was absolutely delightful," laughed out Jugo elatedly, watching raptly, sadistically as the other's features twisted with agony, before the blonde male leaned in and languidly ran his tongue up Ichigo's cheek "I really love that you're so callow. Makes me want to corrupt you more."

Despite not being pinned down by the bedpost like the teenager, the noble felt totally helpless, too far gone beyond the verge of personal panic for his brain to fully function, and whatever idea he came up with to aid alleviate the other's predicament was followed by a contradiction.

Should Byakuya speak against this? The blonde may not even heed to what he would say.

Should he offer to take the teen's place? Again, nothing guaranteed that Jugo would consent. Besides, he truly didn't believe he'd cope any better. And, even if he went first, Ichigo would only be next.

Given that he was only halfway bound, should he intervene and fight the Twilight off? Who said that wasn't what the blonde was waiting for? Jugo had been throwing him provocative stares and smirks every now and then as he cruelly harassed the poor Shinigami Substitute.

And even if a 'brawl' should ensue and the noble had the upper hand, then what? Would they run? Where to? How far? Could they even flee to begin with? ...What of the former Arrancar?

"Za-ku-ra," called out Jugo, abruptly breaking Byakuya's train of thought and leading him to glare at the blonde as the latter beckoned him over by a crook of his finger "Come over."

Reluctance aside, it took quite some difficulty for the noble to make his way over with only his knees, almost falling over at least twice. With his teeth clenched hard, he finally reached the other two, as the Twilight had yet to move from his position, still snugly lied against the dead silent and stiff teen, the sheathed dildo still in subtle motion, ruthlessly seeking reaction.

Keeping the slow, deliberate thrusting in play as Ichigo compelled himself not to respond, the Twilight theatrically produced, from his person, yet another object - same in shape and size as the one buried within the teenager, but pink in colour (7) - using his free hand to hold it out to the dark-haired male, before smirking: "Here."

The 6th Division's captain merely stared, unblinkingly, a frown to his tense and profoundly confused features. Byakuya had his hands cuffed - well, allegedly. He tensed a little further. Had Jugo realized it? ...Didn't seem like it. So, what did the other expect him to do exactly?

Upon seeing the puzzled male dither, Jugo rolled his eyes and let out a jaded sigh, before he began to give out instructions to the clueless noble: "Stick out your tongue and lick."

Utterly appalled, Byakuya's dismayed eyes went wide, his lips parting to vividly protest, but the blonde Twilight didn't let him, firmly, forcefully reinstating his previous command: "Lick it. Right there, at the very tip. Go on."

With Jugo briskly gesturing via his chin where the shinigami captain was to begin, the dark-haired male briefly closed his incensed eyes, in an attempt to collect himself.

The noble couldn't afford to act now and make use of his unbound hands. He needed to bide his time to take the other by surprise. However, he really, really had no desire whatsoever to carry this out. ...But how fair would it be for the young male to suffer this nightmare alone?

"You'd better not have the intention of making any patrons wait when they want you to give them a blowjob," remarked the blonde male curtly, clicking his tongue with slight impatience, wearing a smile of extreme malice, all while eyeing the hesitant noble like an aberrant vulture waiting for weakness "Dally too long and they'll start themselves."

Opening his livid eyes again, the Kuchiki slowly, resentfully neared the item proffered to him.

It had been a moment now since the oppressed teenager had closed his eyes, attempting to use the void of darkness to blacken out the sensations the blonde male was dead set on drawing from him, the dildo's thrusting motions not once skipping a beat.

Hence, the teen wasn't really following what was happening between the other two, but when he heard stifled coughing, he was quick to perk up and listen, instantly worried for Byakuya.

"Oh, get over it," snapped Jugo's voice tersely, insensitive impatience lacing it "You didn't even start yet. The real thing sometimes can taste just as bad, if not worse. So deal with it."

The teen was baffled, not really able to discern what was going on, but he was far too rattled - and way too focused on his own ordeal, forcing himself to muffle the few moans and gasps that threatened to spill out at any moment - to take a peek, also distressed by what he may see.

But, of course, the blonde Twilight had other plans.

"Hero-chii. Follow closely. You asked for oral, right? So, look. I will not repeat this again."

Not having a choice, Ichigo hesitantly opened his eyes halfway and warily glanced over to look. And then wished to the seven heavens and hells that he hadn't.

Byakuya was bent over, head lowered, deeply mortified eyes down and averted to the side, as he shakily worked his tongue as he had been ordered to, tentatively licking and lapping at the pink dildo with intense disgust and indignation, the horrid taste of plastic making him feel ill.

What made the vilifying picture before him even worse was the expression of complete shame etched within the Kuchiki noble's red features. Now, he really looked like he'd rather be dead.

The Shinigami Substitute shuddered, horrified and rueful for having witnessed Byakuya this way, before hurriedly looking away, not caring right now if he was missing on the tutorial. It was just too awful to bear, made even worse as he had been the one to pick this situation, and yet it was the noble who was enduring it, suffering it. Again.

With that thing inside him having started to take effect for a while now, making the teenager feel embarrassedly hot, Ichigo now actually managed to somewhat keep himself in check, the sight and knowledge of the noble's utter degradation killing every jolt of arousal that hit him.

"Now, Zakura, run your tongue upwards along the side. Slowly. Don't rush. Move your way back down. Again. Alternate between your tongue and your lips. Make it nice and wet. That's it," praised Jugo, smirking scathingly as the noble did as he was told, before a degrading beat passed, and then he derided nastily, chuckling "A real good whore you'll make, candy boy~."

The part of the noble's mind that had managed, with great difficulty, to convince him to feign compliance, was entirely drowned by that one simple word, terribly affecting his bruised ego.

"I'M NOT-!"

Blaring crimson with stifled rage, Byakuya cut himself off angrily, utterly unable to continue.

There were so many ways to name what the immortal was progressively making out of them, but none were able to cross his lips, the sound of them so ugly, so wretched. And yet, so true.

"Conflicting, isn't it?" taunted the blonde with a tut, before he finally moved away from the teen, now that the Twilight's focus had shifted - leaving the dildo within Ichigo, but putting it all on hiatus for now, distractedly giving the young male a breather he desperately needed - before the Twilight's voice took a darker, harsher tone "We're all whores in life, Zakura. We just don't sell the same part of ourselves, which all depends on the situation, on the person."

Jugo then grabbed the noble's chin to drag him close, plunging his gaze into those grey eyes and licking his lips with sadistic malice: "You're truly beautiful in your despair, candy boy."

Unable to break free from the other's vice-like grip with his limited movements, the shinigami captain stressed out slowly, tone seething: "Unhand me."

"Should I really? And put my hands where exactly?" inquired the Twilight lightly, placing his lips upon the noble's jawline and steadily tracing upwards until he reached the other's ear, prior to whispering in it sinisterly "On your beloved little sister - what was her name again? Oh, yes - Rukia-chan, perhaps? Should I ask Suzuki-sama to go and bring her for us? Would you like that, Nii-san?"

Boiling blood brutally drained from Byakuya's face at an alarming rate, rendering him as pale as a sheet, whereas he felt as though his heart had plummeted down low to the very pit of his stomach, and shattered.

Just how much did the blonde know? What did the child of chaos tell him about them exactly?

'Not everything if he didn't know of Kurosaki Ichigo's age,' the Kuchiki noble tried to reason logically, before then taking note of the Twilight's sleek, cunning art in acting 'Unless he was feigning not to know.'

Glaring harshly at the Twilight, the dark-haired male seethed out indignantly, his voice cold: "...You're as dire as he is."

And it didn't take a genius to know exactly who the 6th Division's captain was talking about.

"Why thank you. Being compared to Suzuki-sama, I'll take that as a compliment, of course. However, as you must have surely noticed, I don't have the same ethics he does. I don't have any. I'm. Just. So. Much. Worse," asserted the blonde vindictively, before he then viciously dug his nails into the shinigami captain's skin and forcefully began to drag the latter's face down, with a firm intent to have it lowered.

Clenching his teeth tighter, both in anger and in pain, the Kuchiki rebelliously tried to yank himself free, but it only served to heighten the other's impatience, leading the latter to lash out without hesitance.

Brown eyes going wide, Ichigo cringed and subdued a gasp as he witnessed Byakuya's head snap to the side upon impact. The blonde had hit hard, and the 6th Division's captain was left stunned, the sting of the strike burning his skin and the sound of it still ringing in his ears.

What made it worse was that the reprimanding hit was under the guise of a backhanded slap, only serving to humiliate the dark-haired shinigami further.

No one - apart from Koga who had did it out of sheer spite - had ever raised their hand upon him in that manner, not even his grandfather or father. Hell, not even Aizen had hit him. Yet...

Upon seeing the utterly thunderstruck expression harboured by the noble, Jugo snorted loftily, arching an eyebrow up high: "What's the matter? Never been hit before, candy boy?"

Byakuya glared over resentfully, hatefully at Jugo, but, yet again, didn't speak a single word.

"Nothing to say? Doesn't matter. I don't need your words. Or your voice. Not with where your pretty mouth will be going," sneered Jugo spitefully as he took hold of Byakuya's hair in a vicious grip and shoved the latter's head lower, before promptly propping up the pink dildo vertically upon his crotch - under the guise of it being an erect penis - leading to the disgraced Kuchiki noble's upmost outrage, no longer able to think straight, a queasy, unwelcome feeling digging viciously at him.

Aizen Sosuke, his father, that Hinamori demon, the blue-haired former Arrancar, this vile and arrogant heathen blonde, touching and treating him like a- Like he was a-

No. He was a Kuchiki. And he would not be treated like this.

At the very end of his rope and refusing to be belittled any further, Byakuya, once again, let his emotions get the better of himself. The dark-haired male just...had more than enough.

Glaring with indefinable anger, the 6th Division's captain curled his lips over gritted teeth, throwing his most insolent air up at the other, before curtly spitting straight in the other's face.

To say that this was the last thing Ichigo had expected to see Byakuya do, would be a total lie. And now, with that initial shock settling, he was extremely concerned for the other, not at all at ease with Jugo's current expression.

Staggered at first, the Twilight male then slowly raised a hand, fingers wiping away at the spit and briskly flicking it away, before - right after a tense beat of stagnant silence - he lethally grinned wide, quite disturbingly relishing in the Kuchiki noble's attempt at aggravating him.

Well. It worked like a charm, even if it wasn't Byakuya's intent - the latter simply acting on thoughtless ire. And, unlike the other, the blonde Twilight had no problem displaying his ire...

Filled with a sudden surge of sadistic, violent intent, Jugo's stony eyes narrowed dangerously: "Want to play, huh, candy boy?"

Those words were the only warning he gave.

The blonde sharply slammed his fist straight across the other's jaw, letting out a sickening crack in the air, with the dark-haired male falling right off the bed and straight to the ground.

As Jugo came charging to add more to his onslaught, Byakuya, with the taste of blood in his mouth, just snapped further, deciding there and then to hell with it, despite the dizzy soreness. He was not going down without a fight.

Acting quickly, the Kuchiki swung out a leg, smoothly tripping the blonde male, causing the latter to lose his balance, before joining the noble on the floor in a graceless heap, groaning.

Aghast that he lost control of the situation so easily, the Twilight wasted no time to get back up in a crouch, stray blonde strands falling over his vindictive eyes as he viciously lunged for the Kuchiki yet again, with the intent to strike hard, both hands like claws at the ready.

What Jugo never expected was to be met midway by Byakuya's agile hands, both freed - cuffs hanging uselessly and fastened to only one of his wrists - and sturdily blocking the blonde male's attacks, causing the latter's jaw to drop in bafflement.

The 6th Division's captain might be more comfortable with a blade in combat, but he could defend himself just as well without it - naturally, as long as he was unrestricted to do so. His hands were not just skilled in art, nor were his feet just apt at shunpo.

Taking advantage of the other's shock, the noble quickly kicked out, right in the blonde's gut, causing the latter to double over, his breath clogging.

Able to withdraw a hand, Byakuya instantly followed that up with an ugly left hook, catching the other across his cheek and sending him reeling backwards. Not losing anytime, he shoved the Twilight back to the floor, pinning him down with a knee to his chest. But just as he got ready to start a series of fuming punches, the blonde smirked wide, wickedly amused, before sneaking a hand out and giving a sharp, cruel tug at the noble's black locks.

Head arching back painfully, the dark-haired male was unable to do much to prevent the other from yanking hard and throwing him off to the side, putting some space between them as they panted heavily, before they charged at each other again, like staunchly hate-filled, angry bulls.

Evading some blows whilst falling prey to others, the two battling males glared resentfully at each other, teeth clenched heatedly, frames shaking with effort and ire. Though their injuries didn't last long, their brawl was serious and hectic, violent and angry.

At some point, all while dodging and striking back, the Kuchiki noble, in need for an ounce of decency, dove for the other male's previously discarded shawl and wrapped it around lower half.

However, with his focus briefly diverted, the blonde immediately took the advantage to gain the upper hand.

Losing no time, Jugo rammed hard into Byakuya, capturing the latter's wrists as the noble lost his footing, before kneeing him brutally in the stomach - a form of payback for before - prior to harshly shoving him to the floor and violently serving him unrelenting kicks to the side.

Horrified and awfully concerned, Ichigo parted his lips, but halted just in time, realizing that he had been about to call the noble by his name. So, the teen resorted to biting his lip instead, and tensely watch on, wishing the dark-haired male the best of luck.

Coercing the scuffling Kuchiki to his stomach, the blonde pinned the other's wrists behind his back - but did not cuff them back, yet - and then put down all his weight on him, his long hair cascading around them like a thread curtain - having previously lost his hair tie at some point.

"I so knew you'd be fun to play with from the minute I saw you," grinned Jugo sadistically as he watched the other struggle to escape his grip, before he dug his sharp, manicured nails hard in the arms he was confining, drawing a sharp hiss from the latter "Fight me more, if you can."

The piqued noble's lip wound - caused by the very first hit to his jaw - had healed already, but there was still blood in his irately clenched teeth, much to the smug satisfaction of the blonde.

Nothing however readied Jugo, as he shifted to fix the cuffs, for the abrupt head-butt he was served straight on, knocking him straight across his temple and sending him reeling.

Byakuya honestly had no idea where his sudden spark of daring defiance had come from...but he liked it. And now that the Kuchiki had savoured a bit of it, he didn't want to set it loose, enjoying too much dishing out his rage, forgetting all about what he patiently bid his time for.

Jumping out of the blonde male's way, the 6th Division's captain rolled off to the side into a crouch on the floor, when he then spied the whip, resting forgotten up upon the couch nearby.

Heaving, Jugo vividly turned his head, hair a total mess...and saw where the other male was looking. Blanching, the Twilight hurriedly hurtled forwards, but reacted a second too late.

Moving fast, Byakuya seized the whip and, using as much strength as he could muster, let it snap up against the blonde male, the powerful lashing served striking right across Jugo's face, drawing a sharp gasp and a curse from the latter, his hands belatedly flying upwards for cover.

Stilling vigilantly with his newly acquired weapon at hand, the shinigami captain watched warily as the blonde male, his entire frame shaking horribly, slowly retraced his hands from his face, his palms stained with irregular specks of blood.

If he had assumed him spitting at the other was enough to enrage him, the noble was fully off.

Jugo was all about pain. He loved it, gladly welcoming it, taking a scuffle or an act of BDSM head-on, anytime. But nobody, NOBODY, used the blonde Twilight's own whip, but himself. Even less, to use it on himself.

Seriously pissed off and seething with blaring fury, Jugo snarled lividly, icy eyes now entirely ablaze, looking way too lethal all of a sudden for the Kuchiki's comfort - more so with the trail of blood dripping from the diagonal wound made halfway across the blonde's features, albeit it healing slow - so the startled noble hastily went to make use of the whip again.

But rather than hitting the mark, the blonde male swiftly evaded the strike, snatching the very tip of the whip and letting it wrap around his hand, before he gave a powerful tug, yanking the dark-haired male forwards, the latter taken by surprise and entirely losing his footing.

Using that curt movement as a momentum, Jugo took hold of a little more length of the whip, moulding it like a lasso-like wire, before locking it around the noble's neck as he drew near enough, and then clutched hard, sharply cutting off Byakuya's air, his vision starting to swim.

Struggling to breathe and unable to focus on anything else, the noble totally lost his nerve - memories of being powerless to inhale whilst in Aizen's hands choosing to resurface now (8) - and thus giving the other full ability to move freely, using this to drag the 6th Division's captain over to the table. The blonde male didn't falter in his movements for a second, not even with the noble scratching at Jugo's hands and arms, in an animated gesture of defence.

Tossing the dark-haired male on it with excessive force, Jugo, features still incensed and alit with an indescribable emotion, reached for one of the open boxes with his unoccupied hand, searching until he found what he was looking for. A very dangerously sharp dagger.

Raising it up high above the barely breathing male, the Twilight panted out erratically, his features cruelly lethal and crazed, his tone of voice bordering on delirious rage, looking just as murderous, if not more, than the noble had earlier: "Wanna act like a bitch, huh, candy boy?!"

With the choking hold alleviating just a little, Byakuya panted hard, pale and petrified, wide eyes staring up in alarm at the other's enraged and terribly expressive features - a terrifyingly haunted look in those dilated green eyes - before Jugo uttered slow, his voice low and shaky: "Let me see you HEEL THEN!"

As the Twilight roared with frenzy and aimed to stab the Kuchiki straight in the latter's face, Ichigo screamed out stridently, genuinely and horribly terrified for the noble: "STOP IT!"

Too focused on each other, neither paid any heed to the teenager at all. If they had however, they would have quite noticeably seen, even though it was unbelievably brief, the drastic and startling change in those widened, horrified young brown eyes.

"New boy giving you trouble, Jay baby?"

Everyone in the room stilled, three pairs of emotionally vivid eyes slowly darting over to the open door - nobody noticing the entrance being that way until now - only to see the other two Twilights standing there - the Mohawk redhead male with an aggressively wide, malevolent grin and the short dark-haired male with a chillingly ice-cold expression.

Both Ichigo and Byakuya, eyes going very wide, felt their hearts pounding wild and hard with horror, unable to imagine how utterly unspeakable their predicament just might turn out now. It was already very bad as it was. Just one of the Twilights was a hellish enough experience to endure. So neither of the two captives were ready to know where being 'played around with' by the full-on trio would lead to...

As the distraught blonde male stared directly and deep into the redhead's softened amber eyes locked only with his, nothing else appeared to be surrounding them. It was suddenly just the two of them in a silent beat of mutual understanding. And, as if Jugo was under a trance, the blonde slowly calmed down, his erratic breathing steadily quietening to less panicked breaths.

His vicious grip on the Kuchiki finally lessened entirely, leaving Byakuya to roll to the side to cough and catch his breath - vividly ripping the whip off of him - whereas Jugo stood swiftly, threading his fingers through his hair.

The violent tension that had been in the air had significantly dimmed, leaving room for a more wary and worried feeling on Ichigo and Byakuya's part, while the one present between the two Twilights was totally ambiguous to them. ...What was certain, for some reason, was that the captive pair were not really the top priority at the moment.

Composed mask back in place, control back in his hands, the blonde Twilight arched a thin eyebrow with supercilious condescension, tone self-important: "I can handle him just fine."

"Not alone, you can't. Let me give you a hand or two," offered the redhead as he sauntered in with a broader grin, drawing a cynical glower from the other, crossing his arms with a snort.

"Admit that you just want to fuck him, Bazz," sneered Jugo bitingly, him and the redhead currently almost standing face-to-face, with the blonde male's brisk and brutal words drawing nasty shivers from both Byakuya and Ichigo alike.

Given their growing apprehension, neither caught onto the fact that - whilst scathingly talking about the noble - Jugo and Bazz were also communicating subtly with each other, via the use of discreet facial movements.

With profound concern currently in amber eyes, the redhead gestured with his chin towards the blood stains still upon the blonde male's face, the wound healed by now.

In response, Jugo narrowed his eyes and then lowered them, before wiping the blood off carefully with the back of his hands, his head subtly tilted towards where the Kuchiki was - crouched behind the table, almost looking like he was using it under the guise of some barrier.

"Maybe," verbalised the other lazily, still in tune with the conversation - despite his features briefly tightening with rage, one that promised vengeance - before he steeled his expression and glanced over to where the darkly glaring noble was, letting his amber eyes leisurely roam over the Kuchiki's frame "He's a little piece of eye-candy. Got to acknowledge at least that."

"One of the reasons why I call him 'candy boy'."

"Candy boy?" repeated Bazz, testing the way it sounded, before he smirked wide and licked his lips slow and suggestively "That's pretty sweet. Wonder of that's how he tastes."

Utterly aghast, Byakuya stiffened further, utterly unable to tell now, who sickened him more... And he had quite the list to choose from.

"First, Suzuki-sama says he's 'special'. Now you fancy him," muttered Jugo tersely, using an overdramatically jealous tone, which made the redhead instantly shift his attention back onto the blonde with an amused smile, following the ploy "I feel completely and utterly betrayed."

Though too stressed to think, the teenager did pick up on part of that. Once again, Aizen and his eerily unnatural fascination with Kuchiki Byakuya...

"Aw, don't be like that, baby. You know I love only you," stated Bazz warmly, as he smiled suavely at Jugo whilst tracing the latter's cheek, before hurriedly using his other hand to point behind him as an afterthought and adding "And Kandu, of course."

"Oh? You actually remembered that I exist?" drawled out Kandu sarcastically from where he stood, still at the entrance with a sardonic expression to his features "Smooth, Bazz. Really."

"Man, you're so discreet, it's hard," the redhead male stated brazenly, dramatically, before he glanced over his shoulder and winked saucily at the other "Be more like me."

"Heaven forbid that," grimaced the dark-haired Twilight with a fraudulent show of shivering in disgust, causing Bazz to guffaw noisily and Jugo to smirk.

Rolling his cold blue eyes at the other two, Kandu moved to shut the door behind him, before making his way in, whilst the redhead Twilight shifted his rapt attention back onto the noble.

Scanning over the latter's stiff frame for a while with a disturbing and calculating gleam in his eyes, Bazz, acting suddenly and swiftly, lunged for the shinigami captain, doing so at the very same time as Kandu, and barely giving Byakuya time to react.

The Kuchiki had been expecting something to happen, but he was too focused on the redhead - who made him terribly uneasy and wary - not imagining that the dark-haired Twilight would be fast enough to also interfere.

Biting his lip hard, the Shinigami Substitute could only watch, horridly helpless, as those two quickly held the dark-haired noble down, coercing him to his knees and restraining his arms behind his back, swiftly attempting to cuff him again.

Gritting his teeth and grunting, Byakuya fought back, firm on giving them a difficult time, but Bazz - not wasting anytime to retaliate on Jugo's behalf - swiftly kneed the noble hard, right in the nose, breaking it with a loud, sickening noise.

Gasping and hissing in agony, the shinigami captain, eyes tightly scrunched closed, struggled to breathe through the abundant blood flow now seeping from the damage inflicted, his pained inhalation sharp and irregular.

As Ichigo's jaw dropped in absolute horror, the blonde locked appreciative eyes with roguish amber ones, before Jugo covertly blew Bazz a kiss, the latter winking back with a broad grin.

"How did he even break out of them?" wondered Kandu aloud, as he cast a meticulous look at the cuffs, checking if they were broken somewhere, whilst the blonde male raised an eyebrow.

"I'm just as stumped, believe me."

That question was actually well in order. How did this happen?

Realistically, it was basically impossible to break free of them the way Zakura had done. ...Unless, they hadn't been properly locked closed in the first place.

This conjecture immediately led Jugo to ominously glance over towards the young male, who couldn't help but recoil under those stony green accusing eyes, a blush of guilt to cream skin.

Hm. Case solved, apparently.

Features now impassive, the blonde wordlessly, slowly arched an eyebrow, before he grinned. So, it wasn't just the dark-haired that had nerve, eh? ...Good to know.

"Should we take it from where you left off, Jay?" offered Kandu, glancing at the teen for a minute, before focusing back on the blonde, while Bazz threw mocking whispers at the lividly glaring Kuchiki "What are they doing anyways?"

"Oral," replied Jugo, before he gave the 6th Division's captain a nasty look, revelling in the sight of blood streaming down the latter's features - it really suited him to be tainted. And, right now, he'd kill to see more of that.

"Though, with what just happened, I'm very tempted to give candy boy a piece of my mind."

Defiantly glowering back with extreme resentment, the Kuchiki couldn't help but inwardly feel awfully nervous under the blonde Twilight's gaze.

Byakuya genuinely didn't like those eyes at the moment. They reminded him too much of Aizen Sosuke...when the latter appeared to want to eat him alive.

Upon seeing his beloved blonde stare down at the other with an air of feral craving he was all too familiar with, Bazz smirked knowingly: "What's stopping you, Jay baby?"

"Please don't tempt me, love," chided Jugo hastily, biting his lip with worry as his immediate thought was that he didn't have the consent to carry out what his dear redhead was implying...

Their master had been crystal clear. They were never to get physical with any of the trainee dolls - which explained them always using sex toys and the like - unless ordered otherwise.

...Unless ordered otherwise?

What had Suzuki-sama said exactly? Wasn't it: 'I expect these two to be aware of the basics as soon as possible. Understood? Feel free to be adventurous, if it gets things done faster.'

000000000000000000000000000000000000

I'm living dead

Only alive

When I pretend

That I have died

(Living Dead, by Marina and the Diamonds)

Doll was bored. Bored out of her mind.

That was not the only thing she was feeling at the moment, but due to how utterly destructive and dangerous the other emotion was, she was focusing only on her apathetic sense of tedium.

Speaking of apathy, being so detached was a feat that had progressively become natural and rather reflexive to her. She just really didn't care. Or at least, it was rather best that she didn't. Because when she did, it would give room to the worst part of her. Her-

"Um, this one was the last of our set, Gamine-chan," voiced Fukaku all of a sudden, bringing the magenta-haired girl back to reality, dragging away from her darkened inner thoughts.

Ah. Dealing with reality.

What a distressing predicament it was, when, in truth, Doll was far more at ease in her own little world, despite it not being in any way an idyllic utopia of sorts...

Oh, well. Back to the current time it was then.

Large magenta eyes leisurely returned to focus, falling upon the row of over more than twenty boys and girls, all similar in attire and barely older than twelve - if it wasn't even less - on their knees, every single one of them with those chillingly hollow faces and eyes. ...Ghastly.

With the man's announcement, Doll feigned a look of surprise, before she let out a dramatic, heavy sigh, shaking her head as though with profound contrite: "Such a shame."

The tone she had used had led Grimmjow to arch an eyebrow upwards. Though she looked it, she sounded all but apologetic.

As the two young men grumbled impatiently at the back and Majima seethed silently, Fukaku attempted to find a way to persuade the magenta-haired to reconsider what they were offering.

"Are you truly positive that nothing caught your eye, Gamine-chan?" inquired the tall man, with polite persistence "Perhaps not for the doll collection, but what of combatants? Fighters, hm? I have heard of the renowned Hunt Débauche hosts. These little dears are quite efficient as weapons also. Their lack of emotions make it unchallenging for them to slay, regardless of the targets' specifics - age, gender and so on. The best killing machines there could ever be."

The magenta-haired girl blinked. ...A killing machine with no emotions, was it? How quaint.

As Grimmjow, not liking a single word he had just heard, narrowed his eyes with aversion, Doll, remaining silent, merely gave Fukaku and the others an empty, blank gaze - not that different from the one within the children's eyes - and no one within the large basement knew what to make of it, except that it was rather intimidating enough to render them just as quiet.

That aside, Doll had been dealing with Sosuke's affairs for years now, so she could claim to have a fairly deep insight on how he thought, acted and so forth. And in all his impeccable immorality, the child of chaos still maintained a sense of revulsion towards what struck him personally as unethical, as in things he would never do - at least, not himself.

However, the mystery boss behind this very particular line of work was incredibly obstinate, firmly dogged on allying itself with Sosuke - given the latter's strategic position in society - in order to broaden its production's horizons.

Only, Doll utterly refused for Sosuke to have anything to do with that wicked beast that called itself a 'man'. Not now, not ever.

"Nah. The Master won't need them for that," she stated assertively, fake smile back in play, before her eyes glinted mysteriously "He already has an army of undead soldiers. Here, you have one of its former members."

As she gestured towards a staggered Grimmjow - astonished that she knew - the other men in the room tensed, seeing the feline in a new light, with Fukaku sweating nervously: "I- I see."

"Maybe next time," she offered sweetly, wearing an expression of dispassionate pleasantness, inwardly feeling relieved, and more than ready to bring this terribly taxing meeting to an end.

Whereas the tall, lanky man bowed politely, willing to leave, the stout man was having none of that, exploding aggressively with an even uglier fury, features contorted by animosity: "The fucking hell?! This is exactly why I don't like dealing with anyone else here but Suzuki-san!"

"Majima-san."

"No. I will speak, Fukaku!" snapped Majima sharply, glaring at his more sensible colleague, before turning his resentment back onto the unruffled, stoic girl "You. You fucking do this on purpose! Every fucking time! When you cover for Suzuki-san, you never accept any of the boss's deals! We're on the brink of ruin with your constant refusal, damn it! No fucking wonder Mr Wile fucking resents you!"

While glaring critically, the feline also cringed. ...Mr Wile(9)? What kind of a name was that?

With merely the corner of her mouth twitching upon her impassive features, she forced down a shrill laugh that threatened to flee past her lips, amused by the other's pretentious ignorance.

Contrary to Sosuke, these guys' boss - infamous, heinous 'Mr Wile' - didn't make a habit to let those around it in on what it truly was.

To them, their boss was simply eccentric and eerily creepy, chilling, nerve-wracking. In short, scary as hell, but a damn good payday insurer.

She nearly laughed out loud again. Oh, if only they knew, knew what they were working for, they wouldn't sleep...for the rest of their lives.

"I'm sorry, Majima-san, but I do think you're greatly exaggerating. While my Master and your boss have shared mutual benefits for quite some time now, my Master is not your boss's only client. Let's state the facts as they are," uttered the girl, sobering up enough to speak fluently, before she smiled a little yet with immense condescension, an eyebrow arching high "And as much as it irks you, I am here, and merely acting upon the Master's point of view. And I'm well-placed to do so, as I am the only doll to have known him the longest."

"No kidding. You have an explicitly assigned spot in his bed, so yeah. Obviously. Fucking gagging whores like you will do anything their dear sugar daddy asks of them," scorned the stout man heatedly, his spitefully narrowed eyes trailing over her figure, from head to toe.

The doll-like girl once more stayed without reaction, having had her fair share of insults, defaming and so much more throughout her entire life.

So, this was nothing. Nothing new at all. She could do this all night. It could always be worse.

However, that appalling man should have kept it at that and held his tongue, for his very next slur, pulled hard at her very last nerve, making her explode before she could even think.

Why? ...Because that insult hadn't been directed at her this time. But at Sosuke.

She was bitterly livid with Sosuke, no doubt there. But their feud was private, personal, theirs. It concerned nor regarded anyone else but them. Hence, no one knew - apart from the ever-present Witch of Lust and those meddling Twilights - and no will. And she'd rather bite off her tongue, than not use it to defend Sosuke against anyone who attempted to speak ill of him.

"Tch. Guess for a fucking bint like you, it just takes a sodding, manky slag like that master of yours. That ass-fucking bastard," spat Majima virulently, while Fukaku gaped at his colleague with an aghast expression.

Doll's breathing hitched inaudibly, eyes hardening with lethality. Now that, she'd not forgive.

Instantly snapping back to reality upon hearing the stout man's venom, Grimmjow - though as foul as his own tongue could be at times - had honestly never heard anyone foolish enough to deliver such a slew of insults thrown at the immortal.

The latter maybe wasn't here, true, but the former Arrancar knew, that the other should have never uttered those words. Especially not with the doll-like girl's previously dulled features brutally begin to shift, which sent a series of ominous chills throughout everyone present - even Grimmjow, despite having yet to see her fully, but had caught the change starting out of the corner of his eye - who all were quick to recoil fearfully and take a wary step back. The only ones who stayed completely put, were the hollow-like children, as if dead to the world.

"...Did you just dare speak ill of the Master."

She didn't even bother to make the intonation of a question, her bleak voice cold, frozen, ice...

And then, after a piercingly abrupt sense of sinister, killer intent out in the air, nothing made sense anymore...

One second, the blue-haired male had been about to edgily glance at the seemingly ignited girl, and in the very next second, within a total blur of rapid movement, he had punched the stout man right across the jaw, a sick cracking sound following the motion.

Only, the feline's sudden and unexpected assault didn't stop there.

Fuelled by an obscure, blazing hellfire of pure hostility he could not name nor bring to a halt, Grimmjow uncontrollably threw punch after punch, striking relentlessly, violently, not giving the other a moment of respite, not even when the victim in question was sent to the floor. It was a no-holds-barred beat down.

Apart from the sheer violence overtaking his senses and the brutal, bloody sight unfolding in front of him, the feline wasn't at all in touch with his surroundings. It was as though he was somewhat unplugged, dissociated, disengaged from everything but whatever was coercing him in motion, as if that was the only thing that mattered.

While a mere couple of a seconds seemed to have lasted hours, as abruptly as it had hit him, the drive suddenly left his being, finally allowing his awareness back in control.

And by the time he realized what had transpired, Grimmjow, was completely flabbergasted, not at all able to comprehend what had occurred. Nor how it had occurred, other than nothing he had just done was of his own volition. ...It was like he had absolutely no control over his entire being.

Breathing hard and heart hammering with painful exertion, the former Arrancar clutched his bloodied hands into fists, reeling at how startling that experience had been, resenting the feel of being caged within his own self...

'Don't interfere, at all' she had said.

Sure thing. But just how did one do that, when his interference came along totally uninvited?

Wide blown, shaken blue eyes numbly looked away from the maimed, heaving man beneath him, before the former Espada's attention was then drawn to Fukaku and the other two - the young men having jumpily drawn out their weapons by now, aimed right at him. But rather than that bit, it was actually their expressions that was making the feline more anxious.

Their features were the epitome of fear. They were so afraid, so frightened, that it was almost palpable. But none of them were looking at him in such a way. They were all looking at her...

Stiffening, he carefully glanced over his shoulder, inquisitive but dreading what he would see.

However, whatever had been was no longer there, for her features had receded back to their detached state - as she hadn't been angry to begin with - her eyes silently regarding the badly beaten man with lofty and spiteful disdain.

Just like the former Arrancar, Majima was totally out of context, unable to understand what had happened...other than he had just been pummelled to the floor by the blue-haired male.

Mostly boiling with rage, he powerfully shoved the former Espada off of him, before getting up laboriously, and then pointing a stubby finger down at the feline: "Y- You have no right! You're just an insignificant doll! You have n- no right to touch me! The Code demands it!"

The frowning former Arrancar blinked up at the other with total bafflement. ...The what now?

Grimmjow was totally and completely at sea, and decidedly getting fed up of it. He'd have to find a way to figure how things worked around here. And quick.

A curt, childish yet cutting laugh suddenly broke the gravity of the moment, leading everyone to promptly redirect their attention over to the girl, who had her hand clamped over her mouth as she tried to reign in her mocking mirth, magenta eyes slightly widened.

Grimmjow eyed her warily, feeling terribly uneasy. Whilst she appeared less livid then prior, there was something very different about her entire demeanour.

It was now even deadlier, and even less controlled, effervescent. But what made it even more worrying, was that her face still showed nothing of what she felt, mask steadfastly in place.

Bewildered at how she could just laugh in this situation, they all merely gawked at her as Doll managed to compose herself, before she threw a patronizing look in the stout man's direction.

"Of course, Majima-san. You're absolutely right. We dolls are bound by the Code. However, this Code of which you speak binds us only where it's applied. And that's only in and on the grounds of Débauche."

At that, Majima's confusion deepened further amidst his ire: "Wha-?! We ARE in Débauche!"

"No, no, dear. I said 'in' and 'on'," she contradicted smoothly with a slow shake of her head, before the very same glint from earlier shone again in her large eyes "But, right now, we're in neither. We're currently under the grounds of Débauche."

Blanching, Majima's jaw dropped, the silent, subtle statement behind her words crystal clear.

'You're not safe here, you know?'

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" roared the stout man, with a steadily growing hint of fear to his rage and rave.

"Do banish that thought, good sir. I would never joke about something like that," she stated simply, right before her courteous features then harshly dropped the very next instant, leaving room to that chilling emptiness yet again "Now, Majima-san, do please lower your weapon."

Her request sounded all but one, coming out more like a lethal command. And quite rightfully so, with the seething, panicky man pointing a handgun aimed straight at Grimmjow's temple, the latter too taken aback to do or have done anything, before he stiffened.

He knew well what a firearm was, at least from the perspective of Coyote Stark's zanpaktou. Hence, the feline knew perfectly well that he was a great disadvantage, first in proximity and then in position, as he could neither react nor dodge. And though aware that wounds inflicted to these bodies they wore here in Débauche would heal, Grimmjow had no guarantee at all that it would be the same in the case of a fatal wound...

As the feline hastily tried to figure out what to do, he didn't take in account that the stout man wasn't seeking anyone's permission, dead set on shooting the blue-haired male dead-on.

"Like hell I will!" shouted Majima wildly, crudely flipping off Doll with his free hand, before he glared down furiously, crazily at the feline "Die fucking bitch!"

Grimmjow had never been quite afraid of death. At some point, he had even sought to make it happen, and would have welcomed it with open arms.

But right now, at this moment of his existence, he didn't matter, so the blue-haired downright refused to let it take place, instinctively getting ready to move, due to this wandering yet weighty thought in a cyclic loop in his mind: 'Like fuckin' hell am I leaving the kid behind.'

One single loud shot echoed deafeningly in the suffocating atmosphere surrounding them all.

000000000000000000000000000000000000

With you, I don't have to try

You get no love, so bye-bye

It's easier than stealing candy from a baby

I like it hot in your mouth

(Stealing Candy from a Baby, by Porcelain Black)

Byakuya had once believed Aizen to be the worst being he had ever had the misfortune of encountering. However, he'll have to amend that assertion and transform it into 'Aizen being one of the worst beings he had ever encountered'.

If the child of chaos was a devil, the Twilights were true demons. Every. Single. One of them.

Contrary to the immortal's actions - however vile and sinister they may be - having a veiled reason or an unknown purpose, the Twilights' deeds appeared to hold no ulterior or elaborate motives whatsoever. They knew what they were doing, enjoyed what they were doing, but had no reason for doing it. Maybe other than having permission making it so that they could do it.

Following their previous exchange where Bazz seemed to have given Jugo a really foul idea, the Twilights, startlingly in synch, had forcefully coerced the now cuffed shinigami captain over to the table, pinning him down stomach flat, hindering any hopes of struggle.

Wrestling against the noble and effortlessly winning due to a sheer advantage in number and position, the blonde male had then reached out for the boxes - whilst the other two Twilights put their weight onto Byakuya - before getting what he needed. A set of thin wire-like ropes.

Rearranging those in his hands, Jugo had been swift to loop their tight, taut coldness around the noble, working them over his arms and chest, restricting all possible arm-movement, with the other two males smoothly accommodating the blonde as he went.

Merely focusing on battling his way, the Kuchiki had barely made note of Ichigo pleading for the Twilights to stop, begging them to leave Byakuya be.

Regardless, the noble had never stood a chance, as the bindings had been so efficient and so rapidly dealt with that one could assume that the three had done this all their lives. ...Probably not that far from the truth anyways.

Once they had been confident enough that the shinigami could no longer move an inch of his arms, Jugo had added more one thing to his handiwork, fastening it tightly close and secure, and that had immediately made Byakuya grow iced cold amidst his burning rattle and rage.

A collar. With a leash. A studded dog collar, with a chain leash. Reduced to a pleasure pet, and now to an actual pet. ...Just how far down will this ruining humiliation actually drag him?

That question was redundant in truth. It was evidently clear that was still worse to come, an unpromising time ahead he would dare not picture.

Smirking darkly at the sheer revulsion and horror that had flashed across the noble's face, the blonde had reached up, his sharp nails tracing along the contours of the Kuchiki's stiffened features, almost appearing tempted to scratch the soft, pretty pale skin right off.

Instead, his hand had then travelled back down before settling on the collar, lazily caressing it with unnerving appreciation as he had commented scathingly, his tone a daunting whisper: "It looks so good on you, candy boy."

Before Byakuya could manage a full-on hateful glare, Jugo had swiftly shifted and given an unrelenting tug on the leash, smirking giddily as the Kuchiki noble made a choked sound as he was ruthlessly dragged off the table and onto his knees, touching down with a painful thud.

"Come on, hon," had sneered Jugo, adoring how his next order rolled off his tongue "Crawl."

Begrudgingly complying after but a moment of unreserved loathing, it had actually taken all of himself to not break down or bark back. ...He should really not be using the word 'bark'.

Once again, without the use of his hands, crawling had not been an easy task and falling over had been far too close for comfort - the leash had actually aided him a little for balance. That and Bazz, leisurely following just behind him, had swiftly righted the noble's every misstep.

Having moved away barely a couple of minutes prior, Kandu had gone over to pick up one of those messily strewn chairs, before - after dragging it out until it was adjacent to the bed, but a good few feet away - comfortably seating himself upon it, waiting patiently.

Then, Jugo and Bazz had walked the shinigami captain over to where the third Twilight was, dragging Byakuya until they had managed to force his chin upon the very edge of the seat - right between the other's already parted leather-clad legs - whilst Kandu had slightly, slowly shifted forwards and silently begun to unbuckle his belt, before reaching for his zipper.

And that's when everything had started spiralling further downwards for the Kuchiki noble. Whereas horrifying humiliation and indignation had spiked tenfold, Byakuya, alas no longer ignorant on male 'interaction', had immediately realized that they were going to make him-

No. No way was he allowing this. Not this.

So, for the umpteenth time since it all began, he had valiantly resisted.

Only, he eventually gathered - though, alas, not fast enough and with great blows to his pride - that the more he tried to fight the trio, the longer they'd dragged on the abuse and torment out as much as they could, adding further to the unbecoming and utterly debasing vilification they were so delightfully inflicting upon him.

As such, with the shinigami captain's outraged struggle being in pathetic vain, the dark-haired Twilight had, obviously, gone first. His movements methodical and measured, he had worked his turn meticulously, taking his time. All his time.

Whilst Bazz and Jugo had kneeled behind and besides the Kuchiki - far too close for comfort - grabbing the latter's face and hair in vice grips and guiding him to the other's already exposed hard-on, Kandu had gingerly taken hold of his length and had nudged it forwards, pressing the tip against the sickened noble's tightened lips, defiantly clasped closed.

Nimble fingers - Byakuya didn't know whose - had sharply coerced his mouth open, wedging themselves past his teeth and prying his jaw wide apart.

The noble had barely had the time to let out an enraged sound of protest, before it was stifled, muffled, Kandu leisurely sliding his way in, slavering saliva smoothing his intrusion.

'This is cannot be happening to me,' had been the very first thought to cross Byakuya's mind right after going momentarily numb, badly shaken by what was taking place. The noble had always had so much control in his life. ...Where was it now?

The moment surrounding him hadn't paused however, the redhead and blonde males jeering at him denigrating slanders right in his ears, whereas their companion above them moved with a smooth continual flexing of his hips, his pace steady, unhurried.

As the feel of thick, hot hardened flesh and the tang of slickened skin saturated his sense of taste, the Kuchiki, with a furious streak of dissent, had mildly considered biting his violator.

But Jugo had somehow picked up on that, for he had briskly hissed forebodingly: "Bite him - I dare you - and I swear, I'll shove this right in. Dry."

A rigid, warning tap at his bare shoulder had caused the noble to squint down as to see what the blonde was on about, only to catch sight of that pink thing (7), held up nastily in warning.

Easily grasping the ill intent, Byakuya had shuddered at the threat, begrudgingly submitting to the abusive and out of his hands assault, until he could, hopefully, conjure up an alternative.

And so he had hollowly endured it, lowering his eyes to the side - tearing his humiliated gaze away from the ones stiflingly surrounding him, for he did not trust them at all to close his eyes - as Kandu had obscenely made use of his mouth, lazily thrusting in and out, not a twitch in his expression nor a flinch in his pace - the only thing to hint at any exertion on the Twilight's part being the start of a faint sweat to his brow.

After what seemed to have lasted ages, with a single soft groan, the dark-haired Twilight had ejaculated, exploding with long spurts of warm semen - which coated the inside of the noble's mouth, trickling in and down his throat - earning another wave of abject horror from Byakuya.

The fiend. Had just. Climaxed. In his mouth.

A vivid nausea had overtaken him at that precise moment and he had wanted nothing more but to spit everything out before vomiting, utterly uncaring of how unmannerly it would seem.

Still taking his time, Kandu had ridden off his orgasm with a couple more deliberate thrusts, before he then pulled out and stood up, staring down apathetically as a shuddering Byakuya curled over, gagging and sputtering for he flat-out refused to keep in what he had been served.

The thought of doing...this particular sexual act had never crossed the noble's mind, not even out of curiosity. ...That wasn't totally true, no. It had crossed his mind(11), but had definitely not been something that he was or had been looking forward to.

...No escape now, unfortunately.

Cum and spit dripping from his trembling parted lips, the 6th Division's captain, appalled and panting hard, had glared pitch-black daggers at the dark-haired Twilight - who was tranquilly tucking himself back in - but the latter seemed entirely unfazed.

And, just like that, it had then been the redhead's turn, who easily swapped places with Kandu - but, rather than sitting, stayed standing instead.

However, whereas the first Twilight had acted dreadfully unhurried, Bazz had been brutal. Extremely brutal, like he was brutality incarnate.

The dark-haired noble had not seen it coming, still attempting to catch his breath, barely even recovered from the first assault, before the word 'assault' then briskly altered into 'onslaught'.

Bazz hadn't required anyone to keep the Kuchiki's head stable, fisting only one hand tightly within the noble's long black locks, the hold firm and painful, but nothing compared to when the redhead had unceremoniously, slickly, plunged right in, uninvited and without warning.

Grey eyes flying wide, the noble had let out a strangled sound, helplessly stretched wider than with his former violator - Bazz's length, all girth, cramming his mouth full, the tip somewhere deep past the opening of his throat - as the redhead raided his mouth, going at a cadence so wild, so aggressive that Byakuya, choking and gagging, couldn't follow nor adapt to the pace.

Residue from Kandu's incursion had made Bazz's penetration all the easier for the latter, permitting him to slither in and out, pounding vigorously like he was on a quest - a quest of vengeance - his shaft a throbbing rod of heat, pulsating with cruel, sadistic excitement.

The Kuchiki had barely been able to breathe throughout the whole ordeal, wetness pricking at the sides of his eyes as he tried in vain to adjust to the hellish mistreatment.

He had been vaguely aware of the other Twilights holding onto his shoulders in order to keep him in place, not that he could've moved away if he wanted to - not with Bazz's inescapable grasp.

The sound of slapping skin and slurping saliva had filled the room - along with Jugo's snide, softly spoken comments, heckling, mocking - as Bazz, lazily licking his lips with a taunting grin, had imposingly forced Byakuya's head to bob back and forth with vehement violence in tandem to his rough, rushed thrusts, the noble reduced to nothing but an abject ragdoll in his hands.

And it had just gone on. And on. And on.

So much longer than with Kandu, despite the fact that the latter had been incredibly slow. Given the redhead's harsh briskness, one would have assumed that it would be over sooner.

Wrong.

Whenever Bazz seemed so close to his peak, he'd abruptly stop - breathing hard as he waited a minute - prior to going off again, holding back his release each time to viciously prolong the tortuous, throttling moment for Byakuya.

"You'll have to work overtime to get over your gag reflex," had commented at some point the redhead in a breathless, berating tone, along with a wide and wickedly wry grin "See, I'll bet anything, that the dear patrons will have you down on your knees and sucking them off more than you'd like. Better get used to it."

In addition, the mishandling here had been worse. Byakuya had the distinct impression that he was purely being seen and used as a mere object, nothing more, as the other violently moved, grunting with effort as he rammed in and out, and then in again, pace punitive and persistent.

But, the name calling and vilifying during that particular episode had been much, much worse.

'How do you like that, huh, fucking slut?'

'Yeah, feel me fuck-facing you, bitch!'

'Go on and eat that dick, fucking cunt.'

'Whore.'

With those unspeakable and horrible, horrible diatribes, Byakuya. Had truly. Wanted. To die.

He still did. But at that moment then, the feeling had been markedly crushing, overwhelming. It was truly depressing, but yet so real, how words could absolutely destroy a person in but a matter of seconds.

Furthermore, Bazz apparently had so much stamina and charge that he could just make this go on forever. And the more it went on, the more the 6th Division's captain felt his will weaken.

All the while, Jugo had watched every bit with rapt attention, biting his lower lip with sharp and unrestrained glee. It was exhilarating to 'break' the rules every now and then, only Jugo quite frankly would have never had the courage to do any of it, if Bazz hadn't suggested first.

Besides, it wasn't like they had infringed Suzuki-sama's orders that much. Even if they had, it was totally worth it.

Unlike Kandu, when Bazz had finally come, hard and long, he hadn't pulled out, but sneered down at his tarnished prey instead, telling him that they'd stay just the way they were...until Byakuya swallowed. As if all the latter had just gone through hadn't been enough.

"I'm warning you," had added the redhead, grinning nastily while he repressively tightened his hold as the noble glared defiantly "Throw it back up and you'll be licking it off the floor."

Cringing with absolute disgust at the stodgy taste - one he hadn't even bothered to reflect on but urgently wished to get rid of - the shinigami, scalp throbbing in pain, had reluctantly done as he was told, holding back his nausea as he grimly gulped down - in two to three strenuous go's - that thick, gruesome unctuous fluid, now churning unpleasantly within his lurching gut.

Only then had Bazz finally pulled away, his slick length steadily dislodging from the noble's slackened and sore mouth, which was shining prettily with dripping drool and residual cum.

Despite having been doused twice with male essence - and bitterly attempting to not give in to the undying urge to hurl it all up - Byakuya felt disturbingly empty.

...Numb.

The Kuchiki noble had utterly lost track of time, but what was crystal clear to him was that he could no longer feel his knees or any of his tightly restrained limbs...or his jaw for that matter.

The pain denting his skin from the previous hours of fighting back had now faded to nothing. But the vivid pain behind his exhausted and moist bloodshot grey eyes was still bleeding raw.

Byakuya wasn't broken beyond repair per se - not yet anyways - but he was certainly feeling a lot less inclined to dare and rebel, not at all willing to endure this particular bane again. Or at least, not anytime soon, if it could be prevented by...well, 'behaving', doing as he was told...

Steadying his breath after his recently acquired high, Bazz brushed a hand casually through his Mohawk, smirking smugly with satisfaction when the quiet noble remained stock still, his aching jaw loosely hanging midway open, his dim-lit obscured grey eyes down to the ground.

Wiping his brow clumsily, the redhead dipped down to Jugo's level, so they were face to face, grinning wide as his amber eyes regarded the sadistic blonde's glowing features: "Happy?"

"Ecstatic," breathed Jugo ardently, knowing well what Bazz had just done and why he did it.

The blonde male then swiftly seized the other by the cheeks, before promptly planting a deep wide-mouth, appreciative kiss to the redhead's anticipating lips.

"Lovebirds," muttered Kandu under his breath with no real bite, rolling his eyes at the other two as they made out passionately, uncaring that it was neither the time nor place.

For them, it was just perfect.

Shakily rendering himself silent when his pleas for leniency towards Byakuya went entirely ignored, Ichigo had instantly looked away, powerless and self-loathing, utterly unable to bear that he could do nothing to offer the shinigami captain any help. Nothing at all.

The teen hated what was happening to them, and more so due to the noble suffering the worst.

It was only when things had appeared to quieten down somewhat - relying by the sounds of it - that the Shinigami Substitute dared to chance a glance, mostly to check on the Kuchiki.

Out of everything however, the teenager had not been expecting to see two of the Twilights kissing away zealously like there was no tomorrow, right over the shoulder of what seemed to be an alarmingly catatonic-like Byakuya, mouth hanging halfway open and trickling wet with-

The teen shuddered, horrified, promptly guessing but genuinely hoping that he was wrong. And alas, there wasn't much to support on that, not with what he had unmistakably overheard.

Though instantly worried for Rukia's brother, Ichigo couldn't help but look at the blonde and redhead males for a moment with aghast curiosity. The Twilights just seemed...so comfortable with each other, certainly a far cry from whatever relationship he, Grimmjow and Byakuya had. Or rather, didn't have.

Oblivious and indifferent to the world around them, Bazz, though seemingly chill and aloof, was inwardly seething, cursing the shinigami captain up and down with every swear word he knew and resenting that he didn't do worse to the other.

The truth was, he and his dear, pretty blonde lover went way back, so Bazz could quite easily claim that he knew the blonde Twilight better than anyone else did. And it was no lie.

So, basically, he could effortlessly tell - without an instant of hesitance - that Jugo had had a panic attack earlier - as a result of being struck by the whip...Christ, a whip - although the blonde male had done his best to mask it with resentment. Moreover, if he and Kandu hadn't gotten involved when they had, their favourite blonde would have most likely gone on a full-on wild and deadly rampage, one that would have been hell to stop.

Though quick to aggravate and swift to become anyone's enemy, Jugo wasn't quite the easiest of individuals to ruffle up. And, from the blonde's own outlook at least, he had long buried his past memories far behind him, doing that as soon as he had set foot in Débauche for good.

But, alas, not everything could be fully forgotten. Therefore, there were a few situations that could trigger a very violent reaction from the blonde, if one did not tread with extreme care...

Bazz's hands clenched discreetly. No one messed with his Jugo and got away with it, damn it. That dark-haired male - Zakura, right? - had a lot more coming his way. Just he wait.

Much to Ichigo's increasing concern, though those two Twilights were still at it, the Kuchiki noble remained dead silent and still, completely withdrawn within himself.

But little did the teen know, Byakuya was actually resorting to a sort of coping mechanism he hadn't used in a while, one he wasn't too fond of using despite the huge comfort it provided.

When he was much younger and he had begun his duties as a shinigami, hard to believe as it may, it had been very difficult for him to kill at first. Not Hollows - for it was easy to keep in mind that they were bloodthirsty, forsaken beasts - but rather everyone or everything else.

The power to take a life, permanently, was a relatively shocking and startling feat for young Byakuya. No matter how justified the deed, taking one's life also took from the slayer's soul in the long run. Or, so he had heard.

So, in time, to salvage himself, he came up with something that kind of helped him. Blanking. His mind, his thoughts, his surroundings... Just making them all blank, as if it was all nought.

It wasn't that healthy, albeit not at all, because too much use of it had extended itself over to his sentiments after a while - all due to a continuous piling up of hardships, notably Hisana's passing - and had eventually made him practically emotionless. And no better than a Hollow.

Disconnected, detached, Byakuya had slowly ridden himself of what made a soul so humane. Feelings.

It was terrifying, but over time, far too soothing to relinquish. To feel nothing. No pain. No anguish. None of that. Even the loss of positive emotions were worth it. And it was those very conclusive thoughts that made doing this so unhealthy.

It was with, later on, Kurosaki Ichigo's intervention to save Rukia's life that made him realize with intense horror what he had slowly been allowing himself to become. So, after that entire incident, he had judiciously opted to put his coping mechanism aside.

But, right now, at this time, he desperately needed to make use of it. Or he'd just might break.

"No need to blank out your mind, candy boy. We never gave you the right," declared one of the Twilights, their tone scathingly cruel and cuttingly cold, but the Kuchiki noble honestly couldn't tell which one was talking to him "And that's something you'll leave for the patrons when you're skilled enough. It's a little too early for that."

Byakuya's heart sunk to the pit of his stomach. ...Would this hellish nightmare ever even end?

"I imagine that you wish for your suffering to come to an end," uttered Jugo all of a sudden, as if reading the noble's mind, while his hand reached out to the Kuchiki's collar and nastily tugged for the noble to face him "But games are fun. And ours, candy boy, have just begun."

Now totally hoisted out of his protective bubble, Byakuya's expression hardened as he shot a venomous glare at the scathing, smirking blonde, who had brazenly dared to sound almost apologetic. Almost. The blonde male was evidently enjoying this too much to truly be contrite.

The look of sheer hatred in those grey eyes, apoplectic with rage, held such ferocity that it led the Twilights to first raise their eyebrows in wonder, before they either sneered or scoffed, visibly regaled, whereas Bazz drawled out dryly, derisively: "Looks don't kill, honey. Glare all you want."

The redhead's tough, rough voice had an immediate effect on the noble, making him stiffen. And Jugo, shrewd as ever, sharply noticed the Kuchiki's reaction, and a harsh, vicious gleam shimmered in those stone green eyes of his: "Oh yes, candy boy. Be very afraid of Bazz."

Byakuya honestly didn't need anyone to tell him to be. Bazz's amber eyes conveyed nothing but ill intent for the noble, and the latter wasn't reassured by it one bit. He was so intimidated by the other's blatant brutality to the point that he even dreaded what being left alone with the redhead would entail. Needless to say, the 6th Division's captain didn't wish to find out. Ever.

To top it all, there was no longer just arrogant amusement within the three Twilights' features, but also a rather predatory, gloating satisfaction, surely proud of what they had done and what they had yet to do.

And it was spine-chilling.

But the Kuchiki noble, as apprehensive as they may make him be, tried to not let that get to him. Since, no matter how hard things were or got, Byakuya had to imperatively recall that-

'-all this is to spare Rukia and my family. It is best if it is you and not them. All this is to spare Rukia and my family. It is best if it is you and not-' kept on reiterating the 6th Division's captain over again and again, like a mantra, something to keep him going, holding on...

He had been berating himself time and again ever since he had barely recalled just now the words that mercilessly uttered by the cruel, immoral immortal, under the dark, rainy sky (12).

"Defy me once, only once, and I'll view it as you reneging."

"Considering that your relatives hold no particular importance to me, I can rid myself of them whenever I feel like it. Or maybe even defile them. What do you think? Death is actually far too merciful. Perhaps I should round up the most vicious and depraved rapists of the Rukongai and offer the remaining women of your clan to them, whilst making the rest of your clan along with you watch. Every. Single. Instant of it."

...How could he have forgotten?

"Well now, Zakura," called Jugo casually, bringing back the other's diverted attention as the blonde easily shifted up to sit himself on the chair, his hand still clasping at the noble's collar.

Haughtily looking down at the dark-haired Kuchiki with condescending contempt, the blonde Twilight smirked cruelly, running his thumb over Byakuya's moist lips with mock gentleness: "Not so high and mighty now, are we, little whore?"

Aware that Jugo was malignly making use of that term ever since the noble's adverse reaction to it, the Kuchiki clenched his jaw hard as to forcibly contain himself and not react to the jibe.

Degraded and exhausted, the noble gritted his teeth and gulped hard yet inaudibly, as if trying to swallow down his pride, which was seemingly shattering away fast as these days flew by...

Byakuya eventually chose - forced himself - not to answer the other, instead keeping his eyes away, utterly incapable of making eye-contact with the blonde. And, this was not simply due out of mere resentment and disgrace.

There was something...wrong with Jugo's eyes. Byakuya had noticed this earlier, but didn't - or rather couldn't - really think much of it. Now, however, he was quite wary.

One look right in the blonde's cold-blooded green eyes and it was impossible to think about looking away. Or, in all honesty, think clearly about anything else at all.

Unless the Twilight himself redirected his gaze on his own terms - which he was currently doing as he addressed his fellow Twilights - there was no way to escape it. It was like being caged in, locked. And it was incredibly disconcerting.

As grey dimmed eyes wandered, the Kuchiki glimpsed at the bed, and it only occurred to him at this moment that the Shinigami Substitute had actually gone silent for quite a while now.

Swift to avoid drawing any unwanted attention to the other, Byakuya hastily lowered his gaze to the ground in front of him, black hair curtaining his face, before, out of the very corner of his eye, he hesitantly, discreetly chanced a sideways glance over to where the teenager laid, to check if the latter was doing any better than he was - well, apart from the obvious.

Head buried within the pillows, hiding himself from whoever would see, Ichigo was shaking. And the dark-haired noble was instantly concerned.

Was the young male alright?

None of the Twilights had approached him yet. So maybe, the teen was simply dreading when the trio would head over to him next? That was probably it. And rather understandable.

Struggling to reign his whirling emotions in, the dark-haired noble watched warily, instantly on high alert as the blonde Twilight suddenly shifted in his seat, inching a tad closer. And for one horrifying moment, Byakuya, rigid with anxious reluctance, thought that it would now be Jugo's turn to shove his manhood in his mouth.

But, by some miracle, it wasn't the case. Because rather than move to unbuckle his trousers and then unzip them, the blonde male smoothly stood back up instead, his hand still fastened tightly within the Kuchiki's collar, hence pulling the latter along awkwardly to his feet.

Bringing the face of the shinigami captain dreadfully near to his own, the blonde male tilted his head faintly, an eyebrow arched up tauntingly as he lazily drawled out with sheer malice: "Let's go and check on poor Hero-chii, shall we?"

Aghast, Byakuya precipitously wished that his former bout of dread would come true instead.

'No! Don't do to him what you've done to me. Leave him be,' he wanted to shout aloud, but his voice failed him, his mouth going dry with horror.

The Kuchiki felt as if someone had shot him. ...Jugo had seen him look in the teen's direction.

Smirking straight in the noble's tensed face, Jugo's coldblooded serpentine green eyes never left the other despite him coolly addressing the other Twilights: "Bazz. Kandu. Head start?"

"Of course," accepted the dark-haired Twilight with a nod as he easily directed himself over to bed where the teenager laid still, no longer shaking, but turned into stone instead.

"Sure," agreed the redhead nonchalantly with a half-shrug, throwing a nasty, spiteful glance at the Kuchiki right before joining Kandu "Bet kiddo there's been feeling oh-so lonesome, while the attention was all on his mighty highness here."

Petrified deep to the bone as he heard them approach, Ichigo inwardly screamed, a very brief, fleeting thought crossing his mind, one that he didn't - just couldn't - register until long after.

In that moment, as odd and spontaneous as it was, the teenager had decided there and then that he'd never feel comfortable under anyone's touch...other than Grimmjow's or Byakuya's.

Given what he had just been through at the ruthless, vicious hands of the Twilights, Byakuya, sincerely concerned for the young male's sake, parted his lips to somehow speak against this turn in events, but a light, yet severely reprimanding tap to his mouth was swift to stop him.

"I revoke your permission to speak, candy boy. Not a word," uttered Jugo lazily, his normally deadened eyes alive with wry, wicked excitement "Or I won't hesitate to gag you. Point in fact, it'll be a pleasure for me to do so. Just give me a reason, I beg you."

Still troubled over Ichigo's wellbeing, particularly upon hearing - as, due to Jugo blocking the view, he was now unable to see the teen - the Shinigami Substitute abruptly let out an alarmed yelp, Byakuya dared do nothing more but throw a very nasty glare towards the blonde male, but pliably kept quiet. Because, honestly, the dark-haired noble suffering for his own actions was one thing...but dragging along the young male would only be a stinging bite to his mores.

Smirking broadly with smug and elated satisfaction, Jugo reached out and fisted a hand within the Kuchiki's long, dark locks, twisting them in a cruel hold before tugging sharply, forcing the other to shadow the blonde's step as the latter dragged him over to the bed, via the leash too - holding it wrapped around his other hand.

And for many reasons, despite him hissing out sharply at the mistreatment, Byakuya didn't resist this time. Not even once.

Flinging the shinigami down hard on the mattress, without any charity or consideration, the blonde Twilight then swiftly straddled the 6th Division's captain, pinning the latter - down on to his side - with Jugo using all his weight, his knees on each side of the noble's thighs.

With one hand firmly clasping at the nape of the shinigami's tense neck, Jugo leisurely raised the other hand to his lips, before he languidly ran his tongue over his fingers, sparsely coating them with saliva, all while locking sadistically animated eyes with the other Twilights - both who smirked in turn as their hands invasively explored and felt the young male's rigid frame.

Jugo was not by any means a caring lover or, heavens forbid, a tender lover, and that not even with his fellow Twilights - who, in truth, were just like him, fearlessly capable of sadism with anyone and enjoying every single minute of it - which was one of the main reasons Suzuki-sama had often asked of them to conduct the trainings of any the new, unexperienced dolls. The harsher the training, the more they could endure whatever the patrons would dish out.

So, the blonde male knew exactly how to truly make another feel fully powerless and pathetic. His touches were deliberate, terrifying to some extent, as he slowly took control of his prey's body, bending it to his will and displaying their most innermost secrets - which were perhaps even unknown to the receivers themselves. And that simply with a couple of restraints, a few good kicks here and there, and an appallingly decadent and immoral abuse of sexual intimacy.

Hence, without any prelude, Jugo reached down between the noble's bottommost cheeks, his not so slickened fingers locating the opening, before he jabbed them right in, pushing against resistance, sharp nails slitting the sensitivity of the tight inner walls as he pressed in, hard.

Barely able to stifle a scream, Byakuya bit his lip, snapping his eyes shut and squirming away a little from the unwelcome invasion...and unwanted resurfacing memories so similar to this situation. But, his fruitless struggle only served to amuse the unrelenting blonde male further.

"Breaking you, will be truly gratifying, Zakura," breathed out Jugo, drinking in the wondrous sight of the Kuchiki's distressed features "And, just so we're clear, I will. Hurt you. Amidst, alas, the pleasure I have to make you acquire. However, I can always do worse than what I'll otherwise make you endure. Just provoke me - any of us - again, candy boy, and I'll prove it."

And, by now, by taking in what the Twilights were capable of, Byakuya really believed him...

Slightly relaxing as the blonde Twilight retrieved his fingers, the shinigami captain instantly tensed again as he felt something far bigger and stiffer press up against his entrance, and then gradually push in.

As the noble choked on his breath to keep himself from letting any more sounds escape him, Jugo, with excruciating slowness, drove the pink dildo in deep, twisting it maliciously every now and then as he made it do a back-and-forth motion. Over and over again. Relentless.

Amidst the unkind haze of pain and growing abhorrent stint of pleasure, the shinigami's gaze somehow fell upon the teen - not noticing until now how near they were, a mere breath away - prior to finding himself briefly cut off from what he was going through, as he froze, shocked.

Those brown wide, vividly alert and terrified eyes were bloodshot, more so than his own, with wet tear streaks trailing down across the teen's cheeks. ...Ichigo had cried. And the tears were not fresh, having visibly been out in the open for a while now. And the noble had a worrying - and yet terribly accurate - hunch as to when they had first fallen, selfless as the teenager was.

As absurd and unseemly as it sounded, he honestly wished Ichigo hadn't done that, not on his behalf. He didn't need - didn't deserve - the young male's sympathy. It only served to make Byakuya's own suffering more intolerable...and also make his once obdurate resistance thin further, for he was now even further over the very verge of collapsing into a million of pieces.

Skittish and uneasy under Bazz and Kandu's invasive touches - one of them tracing his body, the other working it against him via the still embedded dildo - as well as vividly aware of the array of ruinously colliding emotions within those dark grey eyes, Ichigo tried to speak up, his voice hoarse and breathless, unrecognizable even to himself: "W-Why are you doing this?"

While Bazz barked out in scathing laughter and Kandu smirked derisively, it was Jugo who responded to the teenager's query, a blonde eyebrow arched with amusement: "You ask why? You know well why, boy. This is what Suzuki-sama wants you to be, to be reduced to. And I told you already, Hero-chii. His orders. Are. Absolute."

Shaking his head as best as he possibly could, the Shinigami Substitute desperately attempted to make himself heard: "I- I didn't mean tha- Ah. Why d-do you - ugh - hate us?"

Incredibly in synch, all three Twilights paused in their movements, disconcerted and baffled: "Huh?"

Trying to catch his breath now that he wasn't being worked towards unsolicited pleasure, the young male panted out softly, yet his words came out rather shrewdly: "You're not just acting on Ai- Suzuki-sama's orders. You really, genuinely hate us."

Ichigo, pragmatically, didn't want to say it was just Byakuya. Nonetheless, incredibly sharp as always Jugo seemed to pick up on that bit, so he went on and decided to humour the other.

"Yeah. We do," replied the blonde male tersely, his voice of a deadly calm, before he casually returned to tormenting the Kuchiki, the oppression harsher than prior "But it's not that simple, little hero. And it doesn't matter. Just hate us like we hate you, that's it. There's nothing easier than hatred. You can hate the world, anyone, everyone, yourself... And if others hate you in return, all the better! Your hatred will have even more meaning!"

For some startling reason, Jugo was becoming livid - whether it was due to him replying to the teen or to the words in themselves, it was unclear - which led his doings to grow even more violent, and, despite having forced himself to be quiet, the noble really couldn't help the sound that escaped his lips, an agonized noise somewhere between a curt yell and a loud yelp.

"Stop!" cried out the teenager in alarm, horrified by the amount of lurid pain the Kuchiki must be in for it to distort his features in such a horrible manner "You're hurting him! STOP IT!"

But the blonde Twilight didn't hear the Shinigami Substitute.

"You can hate freely, without restraint! No control! And have no regrets...for being such a horrible, hateful monster...devoid of all reason."

"Jay, baby. Calm down."

Bazz, however, the blonde male heard perfectly well.

The blonde male paused pointedly, blinking. Huh. He wasn't used to losing control so easily...

Slowly calming from his venomous high, Jugo steeled his expression fully - by lessening its level of fierceness by a couple notches - a thin eyebrow arched: "I think you got the picture."

As the aggression receded and allowed the noble to breathe a little, the teen, rigid, regarded the Twilight with an undecipherable air, before he managed to utter in a whisper: "You-"

"What?" snapped the blonde male with a sneer, green eyes a red-hot poison that threatened to lash out again if triggered, no matter the reason "Hate us already, little hero?"

"Hate you?" echoed the young male gently, his authentic surprise at the assumption totally taking Jugo aback "...How could I? You're not simply depraved. You're also deranged. No, I can't hate you. I just feel really sorry for you."

At that, the teen instantly received a stinging slap across his face, but he'd been expecting it, so Ichigo didn't even flinch, merely keeping his gaze steadily upon Jugo's incensed yet ashen features. Even the other two Twilights had stilled and were looking down at him with tension.

"Don't," hissed out the blonde quietly, menacingly, his stony green even frostier, lips thinned.

None of the Twilights ever wanted to hear that truth. Never. And for it to come from a child...

Given that the blonde Twilight was focused elsewhere, the Kuchiki noble was lucid enough to be staring at the teen with amazed bewilderment, because it genuinely seemed like the latter had meant every word. And personally, the 6th Division's captain really couldn't comprehend how 'hatred' was not at all part of the young male's standard vocabulary. ...How did he do it?

Now icier and further vindictive since this had all began, Jugo flipped at his long, pale blonde hair as he enunciated lethally, his tone chilling: "Well then. Shall we move along, boys?"

Shuddering, the downright debased and horrified Byakuya, suddenly, had a spontaneous and unexpected wish that he'd somehow fall into a coma - or the like - soon. Because, if this what he was to be subjected to under the Twilights, what on earth would it be like with the patrons?

One glance in front of him at those wide brown eyes jam-packed to the very brim with a deep-seated apprehension, quietly let Byakuya know that he wasn't alone to think along those lines.

000000000000000000000000000000000000

About to vividly retaliate in any way he could to avoid being shot, the former Espada's whole being then froze when something indistinct abruptly flew blurredly passed in front of his face, just before something else brutally jabbed right in the stout man's chest, piercing it through, the sound of flesh being punctured, ripped, and then blood nauseatingly being spilled.

Stunned still, the feline could only stare at the gaping gash, dripping and spurting with bright reddish fluid...only, the cause of the terrible wound was no blade nor any weapon of the like.

It was an arm, in full length, dipped in deep, up until the very elbow. But this arm, was not human.

Widened blue eyes gradually traced the limb back up to where it originated, only to find that it belonged to one of those faceless corpses that had been lying inert and in detached pieces. But what was really disturbing to witness, was that the body had yet to fully assemble, the missing parts following close behind, floating eerily in the air with a ghastly rattling noise (10).

No head upon the torso, no lower half adjoined to the only leg that was already there, one full arm as a weapon, and solely one hand as a shield, having deflected the bullet meant for the feline's head - and as it was deflected, it went directly through the head of one of the young armed men at the back, his body crumpling dead to the ground...

As the arm swiftly withdrew with a sick, squelchy noise from dying Majima's chest, letting him fall, the hovering head - which should have, by now, combined with the corpse protecting the blue-haired male - suddenly flew past the scared panicking lanky man, like a cannonball.

As it went, it then split in half and sprouted horrifying jagged broken glass-like teeth, before cruelly sinking them in, deep in the second armed man's throat, and then vividly tearing it out.

Stray bullets flew around and all over the place as the youth gagged, chocking on his own blood, before he became the third to fall, convulsing horridly, and then no longer moving.

And all this occurred, in but a fraction of freaking seconds...

"What is going on?!" shrieked Fukaku in full alarm, glancing around in terror, his features just as fearful as they had been earlier, only far more ashen, before he then stared at the motionless magenta-haired girl as he stuttered frightfully "G- Gamine-chan? Wha- What are you-? ...D- did you-?"

As Grimmjow attempted to look over his shoulder, he immediately stilled again, going rigid as the hand that had protected him earlier swiftly shifted, moving over his eyes, rendering him blind to his surroundings.

The feline might not be the wisest of individuals, yet he didn't think once about resisting. And a good thing he didn't too.

Had Grimmjow turned around, he would have been witness to the chilling, inhuman eeriness now portrayed by Doll, her pigtailed hair thrashing around wildly with each strand undulating, like vines coming to life.

Devoid of all ounce of normalcy, along with a vivacious black and dark red aura in gradual growth around her being, Doll's obscured features were in a frozen-like state, a smile broke wide across her face, stretched athwart in a broad Cheshire-like grin that reached her ears. There was no mirth to her lips, but rather a vindictive, wild violence begging to be put to use.

Apart from her sinister smile being visible, her right eye was glowing a ghoulish and ominous crimson colour, the pupil overtaken completely by the blinding, gleaming redness of the iris.

Her features - or rather the lacking visibility of them - portrayed an ethereal, eerie impression beyond fury or insanity. It was downright evil.

Hands clasped in front of her sweetly and head tilted coyly to the side - the natural appeal of both gestures in no way matching anything else about her at the moment - the magenta-haired girl spoke up, her voice soft but strange, her plain words coming out with extreme slowness: "How could I? Aren't I but a doll?"

"W- Wait, G-Gamine-chan. Your m-master and my b-boss have an accord! You can't-!"

A series of rapid shots abruptly rang out, cutting off Fukaku, with blood gushing past his lips, eyes blown open, unable to tell what hit him, before he too fell to the floor, face first in blood.

Unable to see, the former Espada carefully, hesitantly made use of his other available senses, his acute hearing and enhanced scent mostly coming into play.

And, throughout whatever had just transpired, he had efficiently picked up many sounds and smells, but some of them were either totally illogical, or left too much to imagination.

Gusts of violent, icy winds in a closed space. The sound of electrical bursts. Cracking noises. Crunching sounds and torn flesh. The stench of...something burning. That last bizarre one not only didn't make any sense to the feline, but also made him exceedingly uncomfortable.

Another odd thing was, after the tall, lanky man had apparently been killed off, two additional thuds - bodies, probably - followed. ...But, that didn't add up. Everyone else had died before. One more thing. ...Who fired those last series of shots exactly?

As these questions began taking a dimmer turn, the faceless - or rather, in this case, headless - body surrounding Grimmjow suddenly collapsed loudly and lifelessly to the floor, as though the spooky strings that had been holding it up had briskly been cut.

Currently able to see again, the disorientated feline warily looked around, his blue eyes going wide, before they narrowed as he inquisitively, quizzically inspected the scene in front of him.

The four men were effectively dead, bathing gruesomely in their own blood. They had been killed off messily and tactlessly, like a child just had a tantrum and lashed out at the world. And, apart from that, nothing else seemed out of order.

Now that, was very, very much disturbing. Everything else was intact? ...With all Grimmjow had overheard? No one else harmed? Not even those hollow-like children?

Speaking of the children, it was rather noteworthy to point out that, that they were still in the same position as they had been earlier - as though not at all concerned or disconcerted by this whole uncanny, ghastly and enigmatic ordeal that had occurred but moments before.

...The feline didn't know what to the think anymore.

"I don't care," uttered the girl sharply all of a sudden, startling Grimmjow and leading him to glance at her, seeing that she too appeared totally and utterly normal - apart from an obscure, hooded glint in her eyes - as she carried on speaking, in fact seemingly to be replying to the last words breathed by Fukaku "That's something the Master can deal with on his own, like a big boy. Besides, I really, really can't stand anything that nihilistic pig boss of yours does."

That odd glint in her eye darkened for a fraction of seconds, before it was then entirely gone...

Features now blank again, Doll, unperturbed by the sight of death before her, reached into her jeans' pocket to retrieve a mobile phone. Dialling in swiftly, she flipped it onto speaker and, as whoever on the other side picked up, she spoke evenly: "You're needed down in the crypt."

As she hung up after that and stood waiting, the former Arrancar was stunned speechless, not sure what he was to be the most shaken and shocked about.

The children with their deadened eyes. Him losing every ounce of his control and going on a mindless rampage. The faceless, lifeless doll parts moving on their own. The now dead bunch being killed off so mystifyingly. Or the magenta-haired girl herself, detached and unfeeling.

Granted, he was used to the gore and gruesome. It was a circadian routine back in the Hueco Mundo after all. However, that was something he knew, understood.

But here, lost somewhere in the Human World, where was this normal? Natural?

Débauche belonged to Aizen Sosuke. That much was pretty clear. The immortal was a Child of Lust, harvesting others' darkest and deepest desires into power. But what the hell did the world upstairs had to do with the one hidden down here? Better yet, why was he brought to be an eyewitness to this in the first place?

Whereas the blue-haired tried to wrap his reeling mind around what he had been a bystander to, a steady sound of footsteps resounded as someone drew nearer to the scene, revealing it to be another one of those bulky men in suits - all very similar and yet distinctively different.

"How may I be of service, Doll-dana?" he voiced deferentially, bowing low, his words quick to draw the feline's wide stare.

Ah. There it was. Doll. Her name - tag most likely - was Doll.

Call it catlike curiosity, but Grimmjow, despite the strong sense of deadliness instilled by this girl, was further intrigued by the minute. She appeared to have as many secrets as this place...

"Dispose of the bodies," ordered Doll, right after she had acknowledged the other, gesturing disinterestedly to where the four men laid.

"Of course, Doll-dana. And what of them?"

Features not giving anything away, she closed her eyes for a second as she let out a deep sigh.

He was talking about the children.

"Alas, no loose ends can be afforded in this messed up line of work," muttered the girl bitterly under her breath, before raising her voice to address the ones currently concerned "All of you, children tainted by the cruel darkness of chaos. I'll give you two options. One, you work for the Master of these grounds, until he decides that you have outlived your purpose. Two, you die free, here and now. Lift your hand for option one. Don't, for option two."

None of them raised their hands. And it was impossible to tell if it's because they were readily willing to die, or they were too far gone to even register what she had said. However, there was the thinnest of shifts in some of their faces, which looked very much like gratitude.

But the magenta-haired girl didn't react to that in the slightest, remaining utterly apathetic as she spoke to the bulk of a man instead, her voice a soft, emotionless whisper: "Make it swift."

"Yes, Doll-dana."

As the man dressed in the black suit again bowed low to her, the girl started to make her way back over to the flight of stairs, before stopping in her tracks and glancing over her shoulder at the blue-haired feline, an eyebrow arched up high.

"Do you plan on spending the night here, Pantera? I highly recommend against that."

Snapping away from his mind's musings, Grimmjow nodded distractedly, before he moved to follow her wordlessly. But it was only halfway back up the stairs that he managed to organize his racing thoughts in order to ask her the nagging question he had yet an answer to: "All of that back there...was you, right? The deaths and stuff? How the freakin' hell did you do it?"

"Me?" exclaimed Doll, eyes wide as if his assumption was totally off and ludicrous, before she then stifled a giggle "Oh, darling, if I was able of doing half of what you're suggesting, I wouldn't be stuck here, believe me. You must be imagining things."

Furrowing his brow but keeping quiet, Grimmjow was not fooled by her show of innocence. It had obviously - maybe? - been her doing. Who else could it have been?

He had clearly felt the murderous, killer intent swell up in the air and violently lash out, whilst he had been blind to his surroundings. The feline simply couldn't tell nor prove where it had come from, especially since, even with dulled senses, he didn't feel anything stem from her... Though she felt somewhat dangerous for some reason, Grimmjow sincerely couldn't feel any power of any kind coming from her. ...Unless it was his senses that were completely off.

It was just that Doll displayed an incredibly elusive approach to the world around her, which was somewhat familiar to him. But then again, as it remained somewhat distinctive to her, the blue-haired male couldn't really pinpoint where he had faced it before.

In addition to that, she had just showed a level of power and control in this place that no one else seemed to have. Not even that witch Manter, even though they both seemed to be treated with reverence - as the difference was that the other always sought Aizen's permission first, while this one appeared to take substantial and significant decisions on her own. ...A whole bunch of people were just casually killed off without the go-ahead of the immortal, damn it.

In addition to all that, hadn't Leona said that, upon crossing paths with this very girl, she was 'very, very important' here?

Hence, it truly and strongly begged the question.

"What the fuckin' hell are you, girl?" demanded the blue-haired, this time leading her to stop in her tracks and, after a minute of silence, Doll turned to him, smiling sweet with no emotion.

"I'll leave that up to your imagination, Pantera."

The secret side of me

I'll never let you see

I keep it caged, but I can't control it

So stay away from me

The beast is ugly

I feel the rage, and I just can't hold it

(Monster, by Brighter Than A Thousand Suns (Skillet Cover))

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(1) See Part 1 of the Fallen Series, Chapter 6: Countdown to Chaos (Part 3), Scene 2 (A/N: scenes are separated by: In the Sereitei/Karakura Town, Back to...etc; or by this: 0000000).

(2) See Part 1 of the Fallen Series, Chapter 9: Taking It In, Scene 1.

(3) 'Blood Bank Shell's X' is in fact a reference to a BL called Blood Bank, with Shell being one of the main characters. The line in itself is a very catchy sentence that one of my friends uses to describe ANYTHING that reminds her of Shell, replacing the 'X' with whatever it is that she's comparing. Like a 'Blood Bank Shell's dye' or a 'Blood Bank Shell's eagerness'. ...It's complicated, I know. Most of my friends are. That's why we're friends! The BL in itself is a lot less complicated, but rather hard-core, if you're interested. It's a love story between a vampire (Shell) and a human, with an incredible twist. Really recommended.

(4) See Part 1 of the Fallen Series, Prologue (Part 2): The Traitor's Trial, Scene 11.

(5) For the crowd in the hall, I was imagining a scene that was between the Ball of this 1986 movie called the Labyrinth, and the Ball at beginning of Hunger Games: Catching Fire.

(6) See Part 1 of the Fallen Series, Chapter 9: Taking It In.

(7) Another dildo, was I meant here, right? I'd like to think that Byakuya doesn't know what it's called. Yet. I mean, we've never seen much of Byakuya in the Human World, whether in the manga or anime, so he can't know that much. Apart from what Rukia might have babbled to him, like juice boxes. ...I think I need a scene like that here in this fic.

(8) See Part 1 of the Fallen Series, Chapter 5: Unexpected Treachery Amidst (Part 2), Scene 6; also, Chapter 7: And They Fall, Scene 2; also, Chapter 8: Fate for Spoils, Scene 5.

(9) ...Mr Wile. Trust me, Mr Wile is as evil as the name suggests it... And I truly don't know what possessed me to include this character in this fic at all. ...Probably a result of watching too many- Nope, not giving anything away. Not yet. But I will tell you this. First off, Mr Wile is not the character's real name (I'm literally giving everyone aliases in this Part). Second, the character is an actual character from the Bleachverse. Last, Mr Wile is worse than Aizen. Yep, you heard me. I said 'worse than Aizen'. Don't believe me? Just wait and see...

(10) I genuinely adore Anime/Manga. It really takes my breath away more often than not. However, there are also some instances that freak the heck out of me. And as much as I enjoyed the Naruto series, there are many things that have deprived me of sleep. One of them being the sound that the puppets make when they move. ...Shivers. That's the sound here btw.

(11) See Part 1 of the Fallen Series, Chapter 9: Taking It In, Scene 1.

(12) See Part 1 of the Fallen Series, Chapter 7: And They Fall, Scene 2.

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A/N: So, I won't write down 'to be continued' since this chapter doesn't end here. Therefore, no, not a cliff-hanger. At least not here (snickers). And I won't be delaying the following part of this chapter much. Just expect it next Thursday, on October 4th. See you then! Bye!