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.

5. Part Two: Chapter 3 P1

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

A/N: Hey, everyone! ...Yep, I'm back to being LATE all over again. I am TERRIBLY sorry! Please forgive me DX Or don't, either way, as you were. Truth is, I was - and still am, alas, at times - in a dark, dark place. What more can I say? 2018 and 2019 have been two incredibly bad years for me. No joke. I so hope I can move on now. Hopefully...Maybe. Let's not jinx it.

That aside, I have a few things to say if you don't mind. Not to worry, nothing TOO dramatic.

A few of you appear to believe all the dolls to be OC characters, so allow me to clarify. Apart from Leona, Millie and Tora, every other doll are definitely Bleach characters, just given aliases, to conceal who they are for the moment. Their physical descriptions (and even their 'tags') should help give you an idea or a hint as to who is who. For the patrons however, who will start showing up within this chapter...well, why not wait and see, yeah?

Also, when the entire series ends, if I have enough time on my hands, I will review the whole series from the beginning and make a few corrections, as there's a WHOLE load of points to be fixed, notably in Part I (I cringe and shiver upon seeing the way that part's been written)...

And now, without further ado, ladies, gents and everyone else, please enjoy the madness I so shamelessly write! ...I should not being saying that so gleefully, the freaking hell is wrong with me? XP

An early Merry Christmas to all those who celebrate it (totally fine if you don't, I'd never judge), and very, very Happy New Year! And Happy Birthday too, to whoever celebrated theirs recently, while we're at it! Oh, and Happy, late, Halloween! XD X3

P.S: The poll, for this fic, is now closed. Thank you all so much for your lovely votes! :) :) :)

Just a little note. I won't spoil the results, but know that I am taking them all in consideration. If you find, in the progression of Part II, something you have voted for, then you'll know ;) Thanks again, everyone!

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Rating for this chapter: If you thought last chapter was dark, this one is plain ugly. UGLY, I tell you. There won't be much too unspeakably graphic, but what is insinuated, suggested and done by the patrons over the course of this chapter may make you quite sick to your stomach. I know I felt rather ill. And so, we got Language, Mentions of Self-harm, an On-Stage Role-play scene, Sexual imagery, Lust and Depravity, an Orgy night and Sick, Sick Twisted minds.

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Part Two: Dignity Falls:

Chapter 3: Amoral and Immoral (Part 1):

Here's my formal invitation, you and me go masquerading
Lose ourselves in this charading, is this love we're imitating?

(Masquerade, by Ashley Tisdale)

Days dissolved into each other, and before Ichigo and the other two realized it, it had actually been a full week since they had been forcefully caged within the ruthless world of Débauche.

Only, it seemed to have lasted a lot longer than that. And the longer the three stayed there, the more Ichigo found it harder and harder to accomplish what he had so resolutely promised.

But, alas, it wasn't like the poor young male could do otherwise, much to his utter chagrin. With sparse time on their hands, the trio had fallen into a rather deadly, unavoidable routine...

During the day, they'd be far too drained to do much but recuperate. Or at least, they tried to. But in all honesty, even if they couldn't fall asleep, with the shame and horror plaguing their minds, their new bodies' imperative need for rest was too formidable to ignore. And they'd just eventually drop, whether they wanted it or not - he'd been told that Grimmjow had went into full-blown panic when he had stumbled upon the teenager passed out in one of the halls, with the feline only calmed down after a doll, Jilliel, explained that he had just fallen 'asleep'.

Other than that, the trio would lounge around in the only given space where they could have 'some' privacy, their designated room, all while having access to a scarce number of things surrounding them - books and such. Unfortunately, it couldn't keep their minds busy enough.

And at night... Well. Ichigo supposed it was kind of obvious by now what they were forced to do, despite him, strangely, not enduring the exact same treatment as Byakuya and Grimmjow.

Never before had the teenager dreaded when the night would come. Now, however, it was an utterly different story. He profoundly resented that the day couldn't last longer. If not forever.

Although, to be entirely honest, so far and quite surprisingly enough, none of the few patrons that would request him were in any way sadistic or cruel or too touch-feely...unlike what the Twilights had so mercilessly and assuredly promised them to be.

Instead, the patrons that the teen had over this past week had been considerate, gentle, not even seeking him for the pleasure he was to give them - as in, none of them had intercourse with him - leaving him baffled and wondering how truthful Jugo and the other two had been.

The only thing that truly made Ichigo extremely uncomfortable, other than the entire situation in itself, was the intimacy these individuals sought - and desperately required - from any doll they were attached to. Some of the patrons were...clingy and needy, for lack of better words.

Nevertheless, the teenager and the other two's whole predicament - which started ever since the Other War was won by Aizen Sosuke - was already relatively disturbing, degrading and demeaning as it was. But this, these moments in this forsaken place, was simply all too much.

It was like their bodies were no longer theirs, no longer belonged to them - which was already the case anyways, given that, initially, they'd been brought over here under their soul forms...

At first, in a matter of but a few days, the teenager, in his usual selfless way, had gradually, eventually adjusted, surrendering and coming to terms with the notion of sacrificing himself, time and body, for the needs of a complete stranger - if it were to be the only alternative he had at hand, so be it. But then, the 6th Division's captain had inadvertently said something that renewed and doubled the young male's dimly subdued apprehension.

"And what if they are not yet showing their true colours? What if they are actually worse than they let on?"

...Oh. The young male hadn't actually thought of that. Though Ichigo should have because, despite him not getting any 'bad' patrons as of yet, he couldn't say the same for Byakuya. Or Grimmjow for that matter.

Every time the feline came back to their room, after the 'Opening Hours' eventually came to their end, the teen could honestly swear that he had never seen the blue-haired male look so utterly drained, returning more and more exhausted with every passing night.

And though their bodies would never leave too long evidence of any possible inflicted harm, it was quite noticeable that the former Arrancar was both physically and mentally worn out - rubbing at his eyes or temples every now and then, and grimacing in pain with the barest of movements when he thought that no one was looking.

Truth to be told, ever since that one moment of reprieve the three of them had shared, sitting and talking together with this rare instance of normalcy, none of them made it so to do that again, like it was a faraway dream. Almost as if it had never happened.

Shared exhaustion and mortification aside, none of them three were willing or entirely able to express how they felt about their nightly hardships and harrying ordeals, bottling up inside all those rattling, raging and rather inconvenient emotions.

Speaking of bottled up emotions, the Kuchiki noble too was worrying the teen just as much. Significantly calmer than he had been a few days ago, Byakuya was now a lot less prone to defiance, wordlessly obeying every order given to him - while still maintaining, however, his staunch, burning loathing plain as a day to whomever peeved him off, glaring coldly at dolls and patrons alike, with the cruelly amused immortal of course receiving the blackest of looks.

Yet, whilst he mostly showed nothing else at all, making use of that flawless, impenetrable mask of his, it was obvious that the 6th Division's captain was slowly falling apart, drowning deeper down in shame and self-loathing with every passing night.

...Only a completely - or a conveniently and consciously - blind person would miss any of it. The Kuchiki noble's head, once held up high, with pride and assertiveness, was now hanging low, most of his face hidden underneath his long locks, his gaze to the ground. The strong confidence in his posture was now gone and replaced with constant apprehension and unease.

And Byakuya's lovely eyes, once a cold, shining regal grey, filled with poise and assurance, were progressively becoming dimmer and dimmer, darkened by icy ire and intense ignominy.

...It hurt.

It really hurt Ichigo a lot to witness the other two in such a state; two great, grand men he had come to admire and respect as fighters, saviours, protectors, heroes to their people, reduced to being caged, suffering in silent, tortured submission, to satisfy whatever ambiguous means behind Aizen's inhumane malevolence - yet again, the teen was reminded of a game of chess, a terrible one.

And Ichigo, caring for others as much as he did, couldn't dare imagine what the other two males were enduring each time the three of them were separated during night - although he had enough insight to figure a few things out; he was young, not stupid.

He hated this. He really, genuinely hated feeling helpless, useless and unable to shoulder or take away both the feline and the noble's burdens. And further than the situation in itself, he hated more that it was occurring to them. That they were the ones being hurt...rather than him.

At times, the young male truly wished that he was the only one here, the only one suffering. And other times, he was also, with slight selfishness, glad that he wasn't suffering here alone.

Guilt ate away at him, despising that, in addition to it all, he was also being kept from making his promise come true, escape seeming like an unfeasible absurdity, the more this dragged on.

Not only time was a serious issue, but there were guards everywhere, all the time, and it was near impossible to do a thing without at least one or two breathing down their necks. Not even fighting their way out was likely with the bracelets at their wrists, eating up their reiatsu.

...The immortal had really thought of everything, hadn't he? Was there really no loophole? Not even one?

Even so, if the teenager had no way to make a getaway happen anytime soon, then he could at least suffer with Byakuya and Grimmjow, share their pain. Why must he be an exception? Ichigo too could take whatever it was the other two were enduring. Despite his age, the young male was fairly strong and resilient enough, what with all he went through...right?

But, no matter how much the teen insisted upon the matter, Byakuya denied him that with downright finality, leaving no room for argument, whilst Grimmjow always patiently refused.

For the former Espada and the Kuchiki noble also didn't have it in themselves to witness their younger companion suffer either. And, though it was in silence, suffering he was. Severely.

Whereas Byakuya, disgraced, was steadily sinking down and Grimmjow, though exhausted, had simply learnt long ago to be numb to what was he made to do and what was being done to him, Ichigo was in straight out denial, repeating that he was fine, that what was being done to him was nothing, nothing at all compared to what the other two were being submitted to.

Refusing to make a martyr out of himself, the young male outright rejected to admit - and to accept - that he too was just as persecuted by this whole devaluing and degrading situation coerced upon them against their will.

And the other two entirely respected the brave front the teenager was so resolutely trying to pull, so selflessly, so readily, for their sakes and his own.

Yet, it just didn't help convince them to let him 'tag along' and do the same things as them, when the teen already had rather violent and painful panic attacks as it was when he'd sleep...

And whenever Ichigo insisted too much or sought to find Aizen in order to demand of him to make things less biased, this was what the feline would hurry to say to prevent the Shinigami Substitute from doing so.

"We're fine," he'd say gently, yet tiredly, managing a smile for the other he hoped reassuring "Believe me, kid, there is fuckin' worse."

For that one strenuous and laden week, Ichigo sincerely couldn't find it in himself to accept the other's words, no matter how much he believed in Grimmjow.

However, with this very night's impending events, the young male found, regrettably, that he simply couldn't ever agree enough...

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Bored out of his mind and rather irritated, Grimmjow glared hatefully at Szayel, as the latter prodded and poked at him, going over the feline's full check-up for the eighth time this week.

This had become a regular and fairly annoying routine Aizen Sosuke had insisted the scientist do, every now and then, to make sure that he, Ichigo and Byakuya were in perfect shape. ...Like the child of chaos actually and genuinely cared. As if.

This charade had begun right after the lurid pink-haired Espada had related to his master what had ensued with the teenager - that instantaneous and intense malaise he had had, right after becoming one with his new body(1).

Intrigued, the immortal had the other attempt to determine the source or the cause, and see if this would also take place with the feline and the noble.

So far, no such luck for the mad scientists they were. But, gallingly, they were both hopeful...

The former Arrancar let out an exasperated huff, earning a faintly irked look from the Octavo Espada who hissed out: "Oh, hush! I'm almost done. Put up with it. And remember, I'm only doing as Aizen-sama told me to."

Not saying a word, the blue-haired male just outright ignored the other - much to the latter's irritation - and let his mind wander as much as his situation permitted him, frowning deeply.

In a general overview, things were not going that well for him, Ichigo and the Kuchiki noble. ...A dire understatement.

However, despite having to deal with certain individuals that had rather questionable morals, the child of chaos, oddly enough, didn't really let many patrons take 'care' of them at night.

Whereas the other dolls had to deal with an average of near a dozen patrons per night, he and the noble would only entertain two to three patrons at most, before being sent or escorted back to their rooms after that - depending on how 'gentle' or brutal their encounters had been.

And the Kuchiki just outright didn't like this situation at all - regardless of its patent ugliness - for he had this feeling that they had something far worse coming for them eventually. When they'd least expected it.

And though he wasn't undergoing the same treatment as the two of them - thankfully - Ichigo felt the need to agree, but Grimmjow just didn't say anything. ...Didn't want to say anything.

Since his train of thought had so 'kindly' brought up the immortal, the blue-haired male had to admit it odd that the owner of Débauche rarely made himself seen, he who was so fond of making his ominous presence a constant reminder. And keep the terrifying threat he was real.

Sure, the dark brown-haired male had several 'responsibilities' - assuredly ill-intended ones - and whatnot, but what struck him as bizarre was that he wasn't being 'sought out' by Aizen. Like, at all.

Not that Grimmjow wanted to be, hell to the no. But he couldn't help but note how...unusual this was.

It had become a systematic, if not a near daily occurrence back then, in Las Noches, where the child of chaos would sadistically drive his violent desires upon the blue-haired's utterly unwilling body. And no matter what Grimmjow would defiantly do or say, the latter, in time, had become this outlet for whatever frustrations the immortal may have.

For the former Espada was not ragingly delusional - unlike some were, without naming them. He knew well that there were no 'sentiments' involved. It was all aggression and carnal lust, a show of power, one no amount of endearing pet names and sweet words would ever change.

And amongst those Aizen would bid to his room - accursed Child of Lust the villain was - the feline would unescapably, always, remain the immortal's 'favourite'. His pet. His plaything.

And those were probably the 'nicest' of terms to describe what the former Arrancar's position had been. And still was.

Regardless, since being here in Débauche, not once had the immortal asked for Grimmjow. Odder still, was the pattern.

Last time, a while back, when he'd come here alone with Aizen, it had been exactly the same.

Too cautious to feel relieved by this rare, unanticipated moment of respite, the former Espada truly wished to get at the bottom of this question mark, if only for himself.

Why? Was there someone else here the immortal had hidden in this place for such...cravings? Not that the blue-haired male cared, but...If so, who was it?

Without warning, the only door in the room suddenly opened, promptly drawing curious blue eyes, before Grimmjow, his sour mood worsening, glared darkly at the person standing there.

...What was that wretched saying again? Speak of the devil, and he shall appear?

With a hand smoothly tucked away in his tailored pants' pocket, Aizen calmly, casually made his way towards them, with that typical god-like arrogance of his within every measured step.

Features unforthcoming and forbidding, the former Arrancar's brow furrowed deeper, irked over the simple fact that the immortal could literally rock anything he wore - may his inherent nature as a Child of Lust be damned - when Grimmjow noticed that the child of chaos was not wearing his usual smirk.

Rather than it being all patronizingly poised and pertinently ominous, it was slightly lacking in width. And it seemed...faked, albeit forced, but yet quite necessary to hold up appearances. Point in fact, if one looked very closely enough, the immortal appeared to be a little fatigued, somewhat drained...

By now, the feline could declare he knew of the other fairly well. Not entirely, but enough to currently speculate that something was on Aizen's mind. And it was seriously bothering him. Without mentioning that it was a matter also capable of making the usually guarded immortal outright livid(2), if both dots were connected in this case - and he had this feeling they were.

And curious as his nature dictated it, Grimmjow had to wonder what it could be. But then the former Espada sharply decided that he didn't - shouldn't - care at all. Why the hell should he?

Casually disregarding Szayel with but a nod, the immortal walked his way up to the feline - who was sitting on a 'patient's bed' - before smoothly stepping in between the latter's already parted legs, with the former Arrancar firmly standing his ground, not daunted as much. ...Yet.

Once he was all up in the blue-haired male's personal space, just a breadth away from a kiss, Aizen spoke up softly, his calm tone relaying nothing good: "And how are we feeling this early evening, dear?"

Another thing that was strange.

Aizen had this inclination - an infuriating one - to address him endearingly as 'my beloved', all the time. And, needless to say, the former Espada hadn't heard that term for a while now. And though glad for the trivial changes, something was definitely off with the child of chaos.

Not wanting to take any chances and throw himself head first in a predicament he would then be powerless to amend, the feline decided to play it on the safe side, forcing himself to hold his striking tongue as he snarled just as quietly: "Go to hell."

"Ho? Typically your insults are more imaginative," observed Aizen instantly, tilting his head faintly with a raised eyebrow as he masterfully feigned concern, before gingerly reaching out for Grimmjow's face "What's the matter? Something on your mind?"

'Reversing situations here, huh? You're the one who's fuckin' out of it,' mentally pointed out the former Arrancar, whilst he snorted out loud, vividly pulling away right before the other could touch his cheek "Like you actually fuckin' care."

"Well, well. Aren't we being moody?" chuckled the immortal, letting his hand fall away but not pulling back from where he stood, before Aizen, features now mostly impassive, regarded the feline closely "Tell me, Grimmjow. I understand this may seem sudden, but do you have any idea as to where Ulquiorra might be?"

After blinking once, the blue-haired fought his every impulse to betray anything to the other.

...Uh-oh. Not good. Even though he had been expecting the immortal to ask him this very question sooner or later, Grimmjow had not been expecting it now.

It was like Aizen somehow knew the exact moments where the former Espada would be the most inclined to slip up and give the immortal precisely what he wished to know. Moments where the feline's preoccupied mind couldn't think clearly.

But he was well aware that not answering the other wouldn't be doing him any favours either. Silence could be seen an admission. Yet, at times, divulging a secret, accidently or not, could be a lot worse...

Nervously licking his dried lips, the blue-haired feline thus cautiously decided to opt for a more nonchalant attitude as he stared at the immortal, an eyebrow raised up brazenly: "How the fuck would I know? I'm here, aren't I? ...No bloody thanks to you."

When he saw that the other was still calmly waiting for an actual reply, Grimmjow huffed with a clipped expression, shrugging: "Check Las Noches. Where else would he fuckin' be?"

"That's the issue. He is not there, and has not been there for more than a week now," shared Aizen evenly, as he wordlessly kept track of a tiny bead of sweat rolling down the side of the blue-haired male's face "And no one, not even me, has been capable of coming in contact with Ulquiorra. Hence, that's why I'm here, asking you. Given that, according to Manter, you might have an idea. So, Grimmjow, again. Do you have anything you would like to tell me?"

'...Yeah. Indisputably a fuckin' perceptive one, that witch of yours,' commented the feline, resisting the urge to swear out loud whilst inwardly cursing her existence with vehemence - he should have been far more alert around her given what that being was and was capable of.

But on the outside, the former Espada coerced himself to reveal nothing, speaking up coolly: "I maintain what I said. I don't. Fuckin'. Know."

An elegant, dark brown eyebrow slowly arched upwards at that: "Are you calling her a liar?"

"Are you fuckin' calling me one, Aizen-sama?"

"...Do tread carefully, Grimmjow dear," warned the other in a light tone, despite the fact that his dark brown eyes had swiftly narrowed to a fairly lethal degree "You won't like me livid."

'I don't fuckin' like you, period,' thought the feline luridly, but kept quiet, his eyes narrowed as he unblinkingly returned the immortal's penetrating gaze with a darkened glare of his own - though that did little to alleviate the worry gnawing at the blue-haired male from the inside.

Because no matter what he'd say, it was pretty pointless anyways. Aizen had already figured out that Grimmjow was lying to him.

And they both knew that this was a lot more than just the Cuatro Espada going missing. That wasn't the only issue at hand the child of chaos wanted to know from his former soldier. And there were skeletons in his cupboard that the feline truly couldn't afford letting the other find - a matter of life and death, as it were.

It had been a miracle how Grimmjow had managed to elude the immortal up until now, given that, quite honestly, he - and a few others - had been doing such hush-hushed matters right under Aizen's nose. But, sadly, all advantageous moments had to eventually come to an end...

After considering his stubbornly silent former Espada for a tad longer, the child of chaos then smirked, a very dangerous smile to his lips as dark brown eyes did not once stray away from the wild, defiant blue ones in front of him, before Aizen then addressed the third person in the room: "By the way, I hear you've created a rather potent truth serum, Szayel."

As soon as the merciless immortal and the rebellious feline had been in 'intimate' proximity of each other, the Octavo Espada, giving the other two their space, had backed away as far as he possibly could, particularly uncomfortable around the total travesty which was Aizen and Grimmjow's screwed-up relationship - one based on absolute power and a quasi-submission. Funny how it was the most shamelessly vulgar and lascivious out of all the ten Espada, past and former, to be entirely awkward around such blatant moments.

"Ah. Yes, I- Well, it's still in the making process," answered the pink-haired Espada slowly, caught off-guard and wondering, not for the first time, how the immortal had found him out "However, I should be done with it soon enough."

"Excellent," uttered Aizen with an even wider smirk directed straight at the glaring feline, the threatening implications loud and clear 'If you won't talk to me, Grimmjow, I will make you.'

As the blue-haired silently bared his teeth impertinently at the child of chaos, as if daring him, the latter merely chuckled, darkly amused: "Well, with that said, I'll leave you two to it. Only, do your best to cut this session short, Szayel. Grimmjow has a lot of work tonight."

With the immortal finally backing up and away, the former Espade instantly flashed a black look in Szayel's direction, his tone a menacing, low hiss as he warned: "Inject me with that fuckin' bloody thing you're brewing, whacko, and I'll fuckin' make you regret being born."

Though knowing better than to doubt or deride the other's threat, the Octavo Espada, feeling in security with his master there, couldn't help but worsen the situation as he taunted lightly: "So you do know where Ulquiorra-san is?"

"Don't fuckin' twist my words, bastard," growled Grimmjow viciously, mindful of Aizen's watchful gaze, before going all out on the immortal's soldier "I just don't want your fucked-up mojo science creeping in my veins. The fuck knows where it's been before, get my drift?"

Whereas Aizen's frame shook vaguely with silent laughter, the pink-haired Espada was very offended, his features burning red with indignation as his jaw dropped.

Heatedly raising an aimlessly snatched scalpel, Szayel seethed, just about ready to strike the other severely in retaliation to the latter's jibe: "How unbearably uncouth, you little-!"

"Szayel. Do put that down. I do not believe it's a necessity to use in a check-up session, no?"

Instantly caving under the immortal's tone of authority, the mad scientist swiftly stayed put, which was quite fortunate for the former Arrancar - who had unwaveringly stood his ground - as the blade of the scalpel had been seconds away from being embedded in the feline's eye.

"A-Apologies, Aizen-sama," uttered Szayel meekly, as he took a few steps back and bowed.

Smirking provokingly in the pink-haired male's direction, who in turn inaudibly grit his teeth in frustration, Grimmjow - who just really didn't like the Octavo, and this for so many god-awful reasons - felt incredibly smug and amused at the moment.

But that was until the immortal sought his attention again, gently grasping the feline's chin in a firm grasp, before leisurely leaning in to whisper deviously within Grimmjow's ear: "Oh, and another thing, dear Pantera. I'd watch out for Ichigo a little further if I were you. Some of the patrons are really quite fond of him, and are getting a little restless with the rules hanging protectively around that boy. And there's only so much I can do to keep them away."

Those terrorizing words brought all sort of horrid reactions from the shaken blue-haired male, and of them the feeling of his heart dropping to pit of his stomach as it curtly stopped beating.

Wide, horrified blue darted over the other's calm, dark brown and Grimmjow, aghast, saw that the child of chaos was not making light of this situation. He was basically telling the feline that he was willing, very willing, to resort to drastic measures should he remain defiant.

Swallowing thickly, Grimmjow attempted to say something, anything, the first thing that came to mind: "...You can't threaten me with the kid, Aizen. We had fuckin' a deal, damn it."

"And rest assured, we still do. Therefore, Grimmjow, why not see where your priorities lie, won't you, dear?" suggested Aizen softly, sinisterly as he gave the frozen feline a kiss to the latter's cheek - right where the Hollow mask had once laid - before languidly pulling away, for good this time, and not saying another word as he made his way out, leaving a deathlike silence behind him...

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Ichigo thought that he'd be used to moments of heavy quiet by now. Only, he really wasn't. Especially not when his nerves were a complete and utter mess.

At the moment, a few good minutes away from the Opening Hours, he and Byakuya were in the privacy of their room, both of them sitting on the edge of the large bed, with the teenager twiddling his thumbs nervously, highly anxious as time steadily ticked away.

As for the Kuchiki noble, he was carefully reading through a thin stack of papers, a slight frown to his features - along with traces of aversion and agitation within his tight expression - as he tried to memorize the lines.

Unlike the other dolls, the young teen and the other two found themselves sharing a room. Apparently, it was standard. Most dolls had initially roomed together at first, before they each had their own individual quarters over time - possibly as a privilege, had suggested Byakuya.

Ichigo didn't know why things had changed. And quite honestly, he didn't really wish for it to change, at least not for the three of them. The young male didn't believe he'd be able to cope, if he were to be all by himself, isolated from the only two he knew and trusted in this place. He'd lose it for sure.

Not wanting to bother the dark-haired male - as the teenager was well aware that what the other was doing was rather de rigueur - the young male tried to find a way to keep the flow of his thoughts constant, as to not dwell any longer on what was making him so apprehensive.

So, thinking of something else... What else was there to think about?

...Certainly not home. Ichigo didn't, couldn't, bring himself to let his thoughts wander there, for two reasons. One, no way in hell would he bring the memories of those he held dear only to be sullied and tarnished in a messed up place such as this one. Two, the young male truly didn't have the strength to stomach nostalgia in addition to all he was already enduring.

True, he had accepted the price of throwing away his freedom, his life, for the safety of those he cherished...but there was no need to twist the knife in further.

Life here within Débauche was like a death game. Just one, slight instance of wavering, and he'd be done for. Hence, the unhindered focus necessary to survive it, to go through with it, was crucial, obligatory.

...Who the actual heck was he kidding? The young male really missed his little sisters and all of his friends, human and shinigami. Heck, he even missed his crazy hit-first-talk-later dad. He missed them so much, so much it was painful to think about them...

And so, the Shinigami Substitute rather he didn't think about them at all.

Hastily running away from the melancholy threatening to engulf him, the teenager struggled to redirect his thoughts and, in the process of doing so, ended up bringing to mind the dolls that were in Débauche in addition to the Twilights, all whom Ichigo and the other two had yet to fully comprehend. Or maybe, in truth, it was just that there was no clear way to actually understand them.

What truly surprised the teenager concerning them, was how acceptant and compliant all the dolls were, effortlessly submitting to anything requested of them - both by Aizen himself and by the patrons - without an ounce of discomfort or a moment of hesitance. Sure, some would complain and protest every now and then, but if the immortal said 'do', theydid, no questions asked or dissents made.

When the initial astonishment subsided, Ichigo originally figured it was probably due to them being in this place for certainly longer than he and the other two have, therefore eventually - and regrettably - getting used to this sort of...lifestyle.

And yet, with a closer and longer look, there seemed to be more than just that one likely fact. There had to be. It didn't make much sense otherwise.

Because, given the dolls' rather... peculiar and particular personalities, he strongly doubted it had to do with undergoing mere conditioning or the like.

As the days passed, the captive trio had learnt, amongst many other things, that the dolls were much fewer in number compared to all the patrons that'd come over during night.

But for what they lacked in number, they certainly did make up for in skill and splendour. Because there was no denying that, despite the majority of them being most unforthcoming with him, Grimmjow and Byakuya, the dolls each had a certain charm.

The Twilights, Jugo, Bazz and Kandu, in all their sadism and self-importance, were thick as thieves when it came down to just the three of them. They were exceedingly comfortable with each other, confident in one another - and in themselves, of course - and very, very close. And while their spite was like a wall of thorns meant for everyone around them - except for Aizen apparently - they were seemingly capable of occasional niceties and pleasantries...even if it was all a mere act at the end of the day.

But the interactions amongst them three in particular were really something to witness. As in, Bazz and Jugo were most definitely a couple. It was hard to miss, and neither really bothered on hiding it. But then, what Ichigo quizzically wondered about however, was how Kandu fit in their equation. Either way, what was certain was that the latter was indisputably 'involved' also with the other two. ...Somehow.

Other than Ichigo, Grimmjow, Byakuya and the Twilights, there were three other male dolls.

And the thing was, while the teen, the feline and the Twilight trio were made to be flexible between the genders of the patrons that sought them - functioning on a bisexual basis - the other male dolls - who were tagged as Jilliel, Shuu and Tora - solely dealt with patrons of the opposite sex, whereas Byakuya was the only male doll to exclusively have same sex stands...

And so, Jilliel, with dark olive skin, short white hair and eerily striking white pupil-less eyes, was probably the only decent male doll there was. He kept to himself, not talking much, and when he did, it tended to be within good reason and without that tactless, searing aversion to his tone most of the other dolls seemed to have towards Ichigo and the other two.

Shuu, with ashen skin, short dark purple hair, with a fringe over the left side of his face, thus revealing only one green eye, was incredibly abusive in his words and his actions, and for this reason, he, along with Jugo and Gigi, were all dreaded given their 'ill dominatrix tendencies'.

Tora, with toffee tanned skin, short spiky purple hair and near dead eyes of the same colour, along with dark circles underneath as if he never slept, was Millie's boyfriend. And that...was about it, since he was even more distant than Jilliel, hardly ever talking to anyone, but Millie. But, for some reason he could not fathom, Tora somehow reminded the Shinigami Substitute a little, just a bit, of Yoruichi, of all people. And, as crazy as that sounded, he wasn't the only one to think that - even Byakuya had thought the same. Something about the guy's looks, had pointed out the noble. It was quite prominent, striking. But the behaviour, no, not so much. Attitude-wise, they were like complete polar opposites...

Of the female dolls, there was Millie, the mute but undeniably sweet orange-eyed and haired girl, with an immense heart. She was so terribly nice that the three had been rather suspicious about her at first, but she was truly heartfelt in everything she did, with her only flaw being that she was an overbearing eater. Ichigo had honestly never seen anyone eat as much as her - and no, Inoue Orihime didn't count.

Stranger still since he, Grimmjow and Byakuya had discovered in time that their new bodies didn't require food nor drink - which explained why the only lavatories present in Débauche were solely meant for the patrons - but merely sleep, to keep themselves 'functional'. They could eat and drink - and more blatantly given their circumstances, 'swallow' - but whatever went in their digestive system, was simply deteriorated by the complexities of the fabricated skin, muscles and bones keeping their souls contained...

In short, there wasn't really anything about them that was normal anymore - and the young male had to inwardly shiver with disgust at that rather horrid reality he just couldn't sit with.

There was also Kujo, with pretty cream skin, short vibrant green hair and burgundy purplish eyes, who was an awfully quiet and entirely submissive girl. And by entirely submissive, it literally meant that she'd take any level of pain and/or humiliation inflicted upon her, without a flinch, without a cry, without even a blink - instead, it was like she enjoyed every moment of what she got, and it was both extremely disquieting and disorienting to watch her in action.

Leona, with pale skin, short messy blue hair and amber eyes, was the only one kind enough to give Ichigo and the other two tips and advice every now and then when she could. But, just like all the dolls, she kept to herself, never interfering for anything else, no matter the reason.

It was as if there was this one silent, undisputable rule where it was everyone for themselves, something even Grimmjow had pointed out and had attempted to persuade both Byakuya and Ichigo to do the same.

The noble had absolutely no problem doing so, but the young male wasn't as easily swayed, sometimes feeling this need to step in certain situations to give a few dolls a hand. The only reason why he hadn't done so yet, was because the other two had prevented him each time, trying to convince him to worry more about himself, and if not, at least their own plight...

Needless to say, it wasn't easy for the teen to keep his selfless altruistic impulses at bay, as young and caring Ichigo was, though unwittingly so, a dedicated philanthropist. Whereas the overwhelmed Byakuya was slowly turning into more of a misanthropist than he initially was. As for Grimmjow, he was possibly half of each, personally more concerned with the teenager and the noble's wellbeing more than anyone else's.

Back to the dolls, there was also Candi, Bambi, Meni and Gigi, an only girl group of four, all eccentric from head-to-toe and inside-out. And meeting that quartet gang - pretty inseparable, but quite noticeably unable to stand each other - for the very first time, had been...interesting.

The next day of having Ichigo and Byakuya back with him, Grimmjow didn't leave their side for a minute, and this included the dolls' dressing room. They had barely set a foot in when-

"PANTHERA-CHAN~!" cried out happily a girl's voice all of a sudden, right before two slender, yet strong, arms wrapped themselves round the feline's shoulders.

Startled and still disturbed by what they had been through, Byakuya and Ichigo could only stare mutely as a tall, well-endowed girl with light skin, long wavy strawberry pink hair and large green doe eyes, attached herself to the former Arrancar, merrily hugging him tightly.

Grimmjow's expression shifted briefly from surprise to recognition, but before he could say anything, the girl, with her rather full, luscious lips, planted a kiss straight onto his mouth.

As a few jaws dropped, the blue-haired feline allowed the girl's gesture, only pulling away when she did, before quirking an eyebrow at her with a smirk, to which she responded with a broad, dopey grin.

"I've missed you!" she breathed out, a blush to her face as she tilted her head, biting her lip.

"Looking good, Meni," mentioned the feline smoothly, leading her to blink, eyes going wide.

"Wait. You remember my tag?!"

The former Arrancar snorted in amusement with a long roll of his eyes, smirk still in place: "Hard not to."

"KYA! Oh my God, I'm SO happy right now!"

Over the moon, the bubbly girl squealed and hugged the feline even tighter, and a baffled - and relatively amused - Ichigo would've sworn that he heard some of the other's bones crack.

"The HELL you're doing, Meni?!"

Meni, Grimmjow and the two other males turned to see another girl, with long lime green lightning bolts for hair, standing to the side with her hands on her hips, a scowl to her bright blue eyes.

She was glaring murderously at the teen, the noble and the feline - the latter in particular - as if seeing the three of them as the worst threat in existence...when she looked a hell lot scarier.

The pink-haired girl, nonplussed, simply went and stated the obvious: "Um...Saying hello?"

The other girl merely raged further: "He's a fuckin' man! You're being too friendly, Meni!"

"But he's nice to me!" whined Meni with an adorable pout, latching herself even more to the blue-haired, body now flush against his, which just served to heighten the other's irascibility.

"He's still a man," she persisted pointedly, glaring daggers "Stay the heck away from him!"

While the noble stared on in silence, the teen considered the girl wrapped around the feline with a tilt of his head, wondering why this Meni seemed so...familiar to him, something about her features, but he couldn't explain why he felt that way.

With a blank expression, the pink-haired girl stared long and hard at the other girl before she tilted her head: "Are you jealous, Candi-chan?"

As two dark-haired girls nearby catcalled, Candi turned bright scarlet: "THE FUCK I AM!"

Whilst there were other dolls around and about in the large room, once they caught sight of who was responsible for the commotion, they just went and fully ignored the entire exchange.

"Don't mind Candi-chan. She's always, always angry," confided Meni in a hushed tone of voice directed towards the three males "Flaring up over nothing."

"You don't fuckin' say?" voiced the former Espada cynically with raised eyebrows, while the green-haired crossed her arms and clicked her tongue, muttering darkly under her breath.

"These two with you, Pantera?" asked Meni suddenly as she curiously eyed both Ichigo and Byakuya in turn and, when Grimmjow nodded, she beamed at them brightly "Hi there!"

Before either could respond to her and her exuberant personality, she had already kissed them both, touching her lips deeply to theirs - one after the other, yet with the same level of affection she had displayed with the former Espada - leaving the two totally stunned and with traces of her glittering lipstick smudged across their lips.

"Uh...H-Hello," the Shinigami Substitute eventually managed to say, after snapping out of it, while the Kuchiki noble remained utterly quiet, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand with an air of distaste to his features.

"Oh dear, you're shy! Aw, that's adorable! And so cute! Panthera-chan, can I make love to him?" asked the pink-haired girl pleadingly, making beseeching puppy eyes to an amused Grimmjow while Ichigo burned a bright red, spluttering, and Candi then snarled menacingly.

"Try it, kid, and you'll find yourself to be a fuckin' eunuch soon," barked out the lime-haired girl nastily, her unrepressed hostility, quite honestly, very startling.

"Hush, Candi-chan. Leave him alone," chided Meni, glaring at the aforementioned half-heartedly despite meaning her words, before shifting her attention back onto the teen and the noble with a smile "So, I'm Meni. Feel free to call me Meni-chan! And this is Candi-chan."

Green eyebrows furrowed darkly: "If you value your fuckin' dicks, don't 'chan' me, savvy?"

Whereas the former Arrancar merely arched an eyebrow at the threat, both the teenager and the noble recoiled, eyes rather wide as they stared, speechless. ...What was this girl's deal?

"Candi-chan. Stop that. Ignore her, dearies," reassured the pink-haired girl sweetly, before she carried on with her introductions, motioning towards where the dark-haired duo stood "Over there, we have Bambi-chan and Gigi-chan."

"Don't fucking 'chan' us either, I warn you," sneered Bambi, as she flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder and narrowed her equally brown eyes while the other one just nodded.

A little uneasy by how unforthcoming the other three seemed compared to Meni, the teenager offered tentatively: "Um, how about we just don't use any honorifics? You know, to be safe."

Ichigo gasped and pulled back when the petite black-haired girl suddenly walked over and shoved her face straight into his with a creepy face-eating grin: "Green, but quick. Goood"

"Don't scare him, Gigi-chan," sighed the pink-haired girl, faintly annoyed now, though the trio had the impression that she could lecture them all she wanted, and they wouldn't listen...

And lastly, there was Doll - the Doll or, as the others would reverently call her, Doll-dana. Yet, whether she was a doll just like the rest, despite the flagrance of her tag - or name, if that was actually her name at birth (although how generic would that be?) - was rather debatable.

With her delicate features, her petite stature and her juvenile appearance, at first glance, she looked just like a pretty, porcelain doll. And yet, upon further notice, there did not seem to be an ounce of fragility within her demeanour. She appeared utterly unapproachable. ...Literally.

Not only all the patrons stayed clear of her, but neither Ichigo nor Byakuya had been able, nor dared, to speak to her as of yet. Yet, from afar, this was but impression they had of her. And, as stated by Grimmjow, they weren't that far off, but they weren't totally right either. Contrary to them, the blue-haired male had spoken to her on several, though few, occasions, though he too had no idea what to make out of this mysterious character.

One moment, he thought he figured her out. The next, he was all the way back to square one. According to the former Arrancar, despite her portrayed emotions being exceedingly limited, her behaviour was inconsistent, ever-changing. Unpredictable.

As such, the feline guardedly warned the teenager and the noble to be incredibly wary of her, but that caution wasn't necessary as both already were.

There was...something inexplicably deadly about Doll. It was subtle, but it was there. And all the respect and reverence she received from the other dolls only served to enforce that notion.

All dolls aside, Ichigo, at first, really had quite a hard time understanding the immortal's true motives for owning and controlling a place like this, in addition to mingling with beings he'd constantly deem inferior to him. But then, the teen was promptly given a quasi-answer to that.

In addition to the sexual gratification they sought or the simple company they'd enjoy, most of the patrons would talk. A LOT.

Boasting about what they did in life, spilling secrets they shouldn't trust anyone with, even less the dolls. For while they listened with pleasant nods and polite smiles, none of them ever missed on what they were being told by these people.

And, from what young Ichigo understood and had overheard, most of the patrons weren't all just casual citizens.

Behind the masks they wore - only in front of each other, as they usually ended up retrieving them when alone with the dolls entertaining them for the night - were hidden CEOs, bankers, lawyers, celebrities, gangsters, tycoons, Yakuza and other mafia members, corrupted cops, politicians...and many more.

All faces of the public and individuals of power and sleaze, all carelessly proffering juicy, fresh gossip, blackmail, secrets, all at Aizen's disposal via his dolls. The immortal could then pull strings whenever he wanted to, with whomever he wished it, all to his upmost advantage.

Once again, Ichigo was painfully reminded of chess, a game he couldn't help but dislike. Here they all were, just pawns for the immortal's designs, where but a simple push from his fingers could either send them forwards to guarantee Aizen's behest, or send them toppling down and sink into obscure depths of no return...

Along with Ichigo's rather bleak thoughts, Byakuya, his initial focus straying away from the pages before him, was caught up in some pretty dark musings too.

Reminiscing about home, his family and wondering how everyone left behind in the Seireitei were all faring, the noble found himself eventually recalling that one moment where he had no choice but to watch Aizen play around with Sojun, his own flesh and blood, his father(3).

There had been an initial feeling of betrayal upon witnessing that. But then, as the anger and confusion had dimmed, he sincerely had to wonder what led to them to being together in the first place.

Unless Aizen was acting it out, the latter appeared to truly care for Sojun, who in turn seemed to really feel something for the immortal.

Did they both love each other? Really? Or had Sojun been a mere love-struck fool, played by Aizen? An easy person to manipulate and do whatever the Machiavellian brown-haired male would see fit? ...Like Aizen had managed to do with Byakuya himself?

Sheer and utter horror seized the noble's being as a sudden, horrid thought occurred to him. What if he ended up following in his father's footsteps? Would he be strong enough to resist? Or would he also pathetically succumb to immortal's wicked games, eventually wrought and bent into becoming exactly what Aizen wanted? ...He dearly hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Needing to clear his head immediately and change the direction of his horrible thoughts, the noble glanced over at the quiet teen beside him, easily able to pick up on the fact that the latter was very restless, worried, his mind just as occupied as his own, if perhaps not more.

Because, unlike the Kuchiki who would principally focus on his own issues, the young male concerned himself with others first. Always others before himself, ever the caring child.

The teenager really cared too much for his own good and, right now, Grimmjow's prolonged absence merely added to the young male's stress, not making the kid's life any easier.

On the subject of the blue-haired male, the 6th Division's captain had noticed that the teen was a lot jumpier when the feline was not around. It was as if the young male had found some sort of comfort in the former Espade, and given their interactions, the noble wasn't surprised. At least, not like he once was...

In addition to all the strain, tonight was the first time Ichigo would see their...'thespian' plays.

Both the feline and the noble had truly tried their hardest to keep the Shinigami Substitute away from such events, and they had, thankfully, managed to do so for an entire week.

Unfortunately, with certain of the teenager's regulars and other enthralled patrons repeatedly requesting his presence, Aizen had finally relented to their wishes - and yet, the immortal did keep to the bargain he and Grimmjow had struck (which was to keep the young male's abuse to a minimum and let the feline take the majority of it (4)), as the feline himself confided to the noble upon asking him to help sway Ichigo to stay away; a rather selfless feat Byakuya could only admire.

It was really frustrating that the one who could do - and had proved himself very capable of doing so time and again - literally whatever he wanted, conceded to the whims and desires of what he had always labelled as 'mere, meagre mortals'. But then again, given the benefit the child of chaos got from their presence, it wouldn't make sense for him to do otherwise...

That aside, the Kuchiki noble, once again, found himself contrite for ever being harsh to the young male, futilely frustrated with him, silently envious of him, irrationally irritated by him. But in truth, if anyone amongst them three didn't deserve to be here, it was definitely Ichigo. This was a mess he shouldn't be involved in. And yet, by some sick twisted fate, here he was.

Knowing that comfort wasn't his forte, but feeling bad for not doing anything to rid himself of the guilt he had gnawing at him, the 6th Division's captain, while focusing his gaze again on the pages before him, gently reached out to pat the teen's knee, in an effort to soothe him.

A very simple gesture.

Only, due to not looking, Byakuya slightly missed his aim and, instead, brushed his fingers against the back of the agitated teenager's hand, which was rested upon his lap.

...Wrong move.

The contact was short-lived, but enough to cause what felt like an electrical current that had the noble recoil sharply, features going white as, for some unfathomable reason, feelings that he had just been trying to rid himself of, came hurtling back forward. ...Only tenfold in force.

Remorse, wistfulness, distress, shame, ire, hatred, self-loathing...it all came crashing down on him like a violent and brutal tsunami wave, drowning him, engulfing him... What on earth-?

As the shuddering dark-haired male pulled away even further, Ichigo, who hadn't yet moved or said a word, suddenly let out a sharp and loud, pained gasp.

Startled, the shinigami captain hastily looked over to see the teen just as ashen pale as he was, rigid like he'd been electrocuted too, but those brown eyes of his were glazed, not even here.

Very wrong move indeed.

"Kurosa- Are you alright?"

"N- No...Ugh, I- M-My...head," he breathed out, features contorted as he lifted shaky hands to clutch at the sides of his skull, as though to fight off an upcoming, vicious migraine.

"What of it?" asked the noble carefully, watching with tense alarm as the teen slowly dropped to the floor and curled on himself in a foetal position, his whole frame quivering worryingly.

"It-IT'S GOING TO SPLIT OPEN!" screamed Ichigo, so violently that the echoes crashed and bounced off the walls in a wild mess, while the other shrunk back, aghast grey eyes wide.

His own discomfort forgotten, Byakuya was sincerely petrified. ...He didn't know what to do.

He could only watch in absolute horror as the teenager howled in sheer agony, clutching at his head tightly, as if desperately trying to keep his skull from falling apart, whilst he writhed and thrashed around on the floor...as if possessed, or having a seizure. Only five times worse.

As the agonizing seconds drew longer, Ichigo's pain began to make the noble inwardly panic. And it truly took a lot of effort for him to stay level-headed enough to consider his options, which were very limited. Because he literally had no clue where to start...

...Good God, where was that blue-haired feline when he was needed? Only the latter knew how to truly aid and comfort the teenager, more often than not. ...But Grimmjow wasn't here. And Byakuya was.

Pressure and concern directing his thoughts and actions, the Kuchiki noble hurriedly knelt by the teen in unbearable pain and, after a curt moment of hesitance, carefully went to set gentle hands upon the young male's taut, quaking shoulders-

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" yelled Ichigo, his pained cries even higher and louder, piercing, causing the other to withdraw instantly, alarmed "Just-! Just...don't, p-please. It'll- It'll stop."

True enough, the teenager's agonized cries gradually, slowly, died out, little by little, until, finally, soft whimpers could be heard.

Point in fact, if those sounds were any less audible, one could have easily assumed that the teen had gone and died, given how incredibly, and rather alarmingly, still he currently was.

Fairly shaken, the shinigami captain could only stare, very much thrown by this awfully unsettling and baffling moment, whilst having this terrible, terrible inkling that his second touch only made things worse for the young male.

"K- Can you hear me?" uttered the dark-haired male softly, cautiously nearing the other again, feeling rather relieved when the latter managed a slow, shaky nod "Alright. Focus on my voice then. Try to...relax. Breathe calmly, in and out. And think...um...happy thoughts?"

A soft laugh fell from the other's trembling, pale lips: "...Y-You're terrible at this, Byakuya."

"Unfortunately, comfort isn't something I excel at," responded the noble dryly, inwardly glad for once that his unfamiliarity with such matters managed to bring on humour, before voicing his worry upon catching sight of the teen's unfocused eyes blown wide "...Are you alright?"

"No," mumbled the younger male miserably, torpidly, not bothering on lying with the pain slowly ebbing away - but still throbbing nastily, persistently.

"...Do you have any idea what just happened to you now?" asked Byakuya, faintly dreading the reply but asking anyway, feeling the need to.

"N- No, but-" let out Ichigo with a shaky breath, eyes closed wearily "But it's getting worse."

"Getting worse?" echoed the noble, grey eyes widening "This...has happened to you before?"

"Y- Yeah. But not...not like this."

"And this is...?"

Shaken and tired brown eyes opened again and hesitantly met worried and baffled grey ones. The Shinigami Substitute honestly, really didn't want to talk about...this matter to anyone at all, barely comprehending whatever 'it' was himself. But the pain he was in was making him speak, all inhibitions and defences down.

"I'm not sure. ...It's hard to explain," disclosed the teenager, just as baffled by his 'condition' "All I know is that it's...overwhelming, agonising and totally unexpected...when it happens."

And that was in no way helpful.

"When...has this started occurring to you?" the noble then attempted, as he carefully helped the other up to his feet, before sitting him down back upon the edge of the bed again - this time rather mindful not to come in direct contact with Ichigo's skin, as he had done earlier.

"The creepy nightmares? Since I woke up from that coma. The pain? ...Since I set foot here."

Nothing happened without a reason, or without a meaning, even if it wasn't that easy to grasp or accept at first - at least, that's what Ichigo resolutely chose to believe.

Like those visions he had got no sooner than he had been merged with the body he now wore.

A person letting out chilling screams of fear as their whole body was up in flames, ablaze.

Wild golden eyes encircled by black accompanied by a slasher grin, screeching high hazard.

A man without a face under a thick curtain of darkness, his long claw-like fingers reaching out, bent on drawing out the most dreadful and painful of terrors from those he would touch.

Grey eyes holding nothing but suffering, slowly fading to become dark and apathetic, cruel, dangerous.

Lips parting slow to let out a silent scream of blistering agony, terrifyingly uncontrolled - with everything shattering to pieces and burning to ashes - as it all swirled around, like a violent, unforgiving sandstorm of fire and crimson lightning and so, so much red (5).

Although he had yet to understand them or find a meaning to them, he had a strong feeling that they were important, or the teen wouldn't have had them. They had to mean something...

"Aren't those two separate things?" asked the noble with a puzzled frown, not grasping why the teenager was talking of them as if they were connected. As if they were one and the same.

"I don't know. But I don't really think so. I feel...as if they're linked, connected, somehow. You know how I actually have zero awareness when it comes to reiatsu, if not in general, right? (The Kuchiki nodded in response to that question) That was before I lost my powers."

"...I don't understand," admitted Byakuya, unable to navigate past his initial confusion and concern to grasp what he was being told "Are you saying you have such an awareness now?"

"Probably not to reiatsu, but definitely the awareness bit, at least. And when I then woke up from the coma with my powers gone," reminisced Ichigo with a distant expression, before he shuddered with a sharp intake of breath "That's when the nightmares started."

"...You had stated yourself that you have been caught in illusions, created by Kyoka Suigetsu, during your prolonged state of unconsciousness(6)," recalled the other, remembering word for word what the young male had said upon emerging from that dreadfully life-threatening coma of his "Hence, weren't your nightmares a mere result of that? Aren't they still as such?"

"...Yeah, I wish."

Feeling that there was a lot being left unsaid, the Kuchiki arched up an eyebrow: "Meaning?"

Ichigo remained silent for a moment, again inwardly debating whether it was a good idea or not to burden anyone else but himself with his rather particular - and puzzling - plight of his...

"Well, I don't just get these attacks from...the nightmares I have about Aizen and the Other War," the teenager eventually found himself uttering heavily, tiredly "I also have these kind of attacks, when I'm not asleep - like just now, only never as bad as this one's been - of...of things I can't explain. Things I am not supposed to know. Or rather, shouldn't know at all."

"...You've lost me, young man," confessed Byakuya, totally baffled, his brow furrowed deep.

"Look, what I'm trying to say is, when...episodes like this happen to me, I'm feeling things, seeing things that I don't know anything about to begin with. As in nobody told me about them, but I feel or see them anyway," whispered the teen wearily, distraught and dampened, as he drew his knees towards himself and buried his face in them, his frame trembling a little.

...What on earth was going on with him? What was this? And why was 'this' happening now?

Too bad he couldn't seek that damn Urahara's knowhow at the moment. And no way in hell was he ever turning to the immortal for help, even less so that mad pink-haired Espada freak.

After a beat of silence, the dark-haired male spoke up, making use of an uncharacteristically gentle and soothing voice: "...I believe that you should rest a bit, young man. The nights are, after all, getting a lot longer and harder to deal with. Here, lie down, and I'll wake you up just when it's about time for us to leave, alright?"

Not at all at ease upon hearing the timbre to the other's tone, Ichigo raised his head a bit and glanced over to gauge the other's expression, before feeling faintly unnerved by what he saw.

"...You think I'm crazy," observed the young male in a strangled tone, his heart sinking even lower when the noble froze up completely in response, as if confirming the teen's accusation.

"I have never suggested that-"

"But you're thinking it," snapped the teenager, nerves tense and aflare as he curtly cut off the Kuchiki and vividly pulled away, rather vexed and wishing he hadn't told the other anything.

Or rather, he should have told this to Grimmjow instead. At least he would most surely adapt and act accordingly, attempting to find answers and give advice to him. Not look at him like the latter had gone utterly mad...Unless Ichigo actually had, which was somehow even worse.

Although it was true that Byakuya was currently questioning the teen's saneness, his reaction had nothing to do with him doubting the young male's word but rather, he was assuming that this was merely a result of all they have been going through. Which was a lot, no matter how much the teenager would deny it.

Therefore, the Kuchiki hastened to convey this point to the Shinigami Substitute before this misunderstanding turned sourer. Like Ichigo had said himself, in spite of their differences, the three of them, only had each other here. And falling apart was not to their advantage. ...At all.

"Kurosaki Ichigo," spoke up the shinigami captain firmly with a no-nonsense tone, all while purposely making use of the teenager's name to earn his full attention "I simply believe that all you've been through lately has put quite the strain on your mind, so much strain that you might simply need a little respite. You duly need it, young man. We all do, but I feel like you require it the most. Once you do that, we'll discuss this...matter further, alright? So, please, do lie down and, as hard as it might be, try to-"

"Your father and Aizen were...lovers, a long time ago. Far long before you were even born."

A cold, terrible chill the shinigami captain couldn't control ran down the length of his spine as he fell into a fleeting but sharp moment of still and silent shock, his lips remaining parted.

Aghast widened grey eyes then shot up, in utter alarm, to Ichigo's own nervous brown ones: "...What did you just say?"

The reason for Byakuya's dismayed reaction was not due to the sentence in itself - because, alas, it was a true story - but rather due to who was saying it.

...How in Heaven, Hell and Earth, did the young male know of this?

Apart from the immortal himself, what was left of the Kuchiki Clan and Yoruichi - who had suspected it - nobody else knew about this. Even Byakuya hadn't known of this, until he had, very recently, heard it from his father's own lips.

Even more unsettling and unnerving was that this...unspeakable truth, was exactly what had been plaguing the noble's mind, moments before the other suffered that unusual attack of his.

And this, hearing this ugly reality from the teen out of all people, perturbed Byakuya greatly.

"...Aizen Sosuke told you this," finally concluded the dark-haired male, eyes now narrowed as the initial shock subsided and left room to a feeling of betrayal and the start of a seething ire, his voice but a whisper, as he referred to that one moment where their 'owner' had kept the teen behind for...a private talk(7).

That could be the only explanation. And Byakuya cursed the immortal to hell and back for it.

But Ichigo shook his head, tone gentle, indulgent: "That's not what we talked about, I swear."

And the Shinigami Substitute was simply far too honest for the 6th Division's captain to not believe him. Not when those warm, brown eyes of his conveyed nothing but overwhelming sincerity to back up his words. ...Was this boy even capable of lying?

But then, the young male's knowledge of this particular information no longer made sense: "Then how-? How do you know of this, Kurosaki Ichigo? ...Who told you?"

Ichigo's brow furrowed, struggling to explain what he himself was yet unable to understand: "No one did, actually. I- I think it's that...I feel a person's pain or problems and stuff, when I'm very close to them - in proximity, I mean. And, maybe...physical contact enhances that? Like I- Like I then become attuned to them. ...Or something. I don't...know."

Uneasy, he then chanced a furtive glance at the other to check if he was being doubted again. Only, this time, it wasn't the case, as the noble seemed to be considering this attentively now. If Ichigo was being serious about this, then the young male had picked up on this bothersome titbit of repressed knowledge...from Byakuya himself. And this, via MERE skin contact alone.

Was that even possible? It certainly seemed like it. Only, he had never heard of such a thing.

"So," began the dark-haired male, frowning grimly as he slowly pieced two and two together, coming to an unpleasant realization "When I touched you...I hurt you. I did...that to you."

"NO! No, no, no, it's not your fault, Byakuya. Don't put it like that," exclaimed Ichigo aloud, horrified at the idea of the other blaming himself, before the young male trailed off, still quite at loss as to what was happening with him "It's just- There's just something wrong with me."

"There is nothing wrong with you," stated the Kuchiki firmly, somewhat displeased with the other's viewing of himself, only the latter didn't seem so convinced by the noble's statement.

Hoping that this dilemma didn't just involve him alone, the dark-haired male now wanted to know if this...odd situation had ever ensued with Grimmjow also. When an oddity struck him.

"Wait a moment," began the dark-haired shinigami with a deep, confounded frown "A couple of nights before, we've been...um...touching each other, haven't we? During our, uh- 'training sessions', with the Twilights. Why didn't anything happen then?"

Ichigo blinked, seemingly giving the matter some thought, before sincerely shaking his head, just as confused: "Sorry, no clue."

"Has this-? Has it ever occurred with anyone else?" the shinigami captain then inquired, not knowing what to think when the teenager bit his lip and nodded slowly, before Byakuya then ventured carefully "With the patrons, perhaps?"

Only, the young male shook his head: "Not exactly. I don't...feel pain with them. They do bring out in me unease and queasiness though. And, at times, in them, I- (Shivers) In them, I feel this horrible, horrible...darkness. So dark, it's stifling. Smothering. ...Hostile. It makes me sick to my stomach. "

Falling quiet, the Kuchiki frowned contemplatively, reflecting on what the other had just said. If the noble understood this correctly, then what the teenager was describing was possibly the sensations brought on by the patrons' dark desires and their inner vice, along with Ichigo's instinctual reaction to them. And all this, through the slightest skin contact.

Be that as it may, even if this speculation wasn't accurate, it only served to arise even more queries, such as 'how did this even happen to the young male in the first place?' And 'why'? Was this in any way Aizen's doing? The Kuchiki honestly would not put it past the immortal.

However, the 6th Division's captain considerately refrained from asking or telling the other that, as he had an inkling they were of the more pertinent questions troubling the teen as well.

Suddenly, thinking back on their first four nights here, the Kuchiki recalled and realized just how distressed and oppressed the teen would seem whenever the blonde Twilight touched the latter. Byakuya had originally assumed it was due to the invasive intimacy of the act in itself. But, apparently, that hadn't been the only reason.

"It's a total different story with the Twilights though," the young male then revealed quietly, confirming the concept formed in the noble's head just now "Well, just with Jugo. The other two never touched me without gloves."

There was a particularity were all the dolls mostly wore gloves, including the three of them - only removing them when it was requested of them, by Aizen or by the patrons they served. Just another perk required to make the dolls relatively distinctive in a way. ...A waste of time.

"And what did you feel when-?"

"Whenever Jugo touched me? I felt pain then and...poison," whispered Ichigo tensely, before rapidly clarifying himself upon witnessing the other's lost expression "I can't really explain exactly what I feel, only compare it. It was...suffocating, destructive. Like what venom would do to a body."

Processing this, Byakuya carried on with his questions, allowing his curiosity to get the better of himself, since the teenager was replying so far: "And...What of Aizen Sosuke? Did he t-?"

"NO," said Ichigo, vehemently hastening to state so, looking both a little relieved yet rather apprehensive about it "Though he has touched me before - remember, out on the battlefield (8) - nothing happened back then. Aizen hasn't laid a finger on me since we came here. And, I'm not going to lie, I'm really scared of what might happen if...he ever does."

Discreetly shivering at the idea, the Kuchiki could only sympathize on that particular anxiety, sadly unable to comfort the boy here. He may not suffer whatever strange dilemma the young male was currently dealing with, but even he dreaded the immortal's touch. ...Very much so.

And, given what the Shinigami Substitute had just said he was able to feel from others, the noble didn't dare picture what Ichigo might feel or see upon coming in contact with Aizen's skin. Who knew the extent of darkness and malevolence that fiend of a man had within him?

That thought brought up yet another question, one Byakuya feared finding out the answer to: "And... exactly what do you-? See? Feel? Whenever this happens to you?"

Though fairly relieved that the 6th Division's captain now appeared to actually believe him, this discussion was really starting to unsettle Ichigo.

The teenager was feeling very uncomfortable talking about this, not only because he didn't understand what was happening to him, but also because he didn't know how to get rid of it. It upset him to no end to have such a...hindrance, in addition all the horrible things he was already going through.

...Wasn't it enough as it was?

Just when the 6th Division's captain finally picked up on the young male's discomfort and was about to apologize and tell the other to drop the conversation altogether, the teenager was already replying, numbly: "I just feel pain, mostly. Different degrees, different variations of it. It's never really the same. And as for what I see... I don't know. Sometimes, it's a blur of images related to the pain I sense. Sometimes, it's crystal clear. And sometimes, the hurt is so crushing that I either see nothing, or only get snippets. ...Oh God, I wish it'd stop. ...All of it."

With that said, the teen then curled up further on himself, his face disappearing in his knees again, whilst looking vulnerable and exhausted like Byakuya had never seen him before. It was one thing to know of the Shinigami Substitute's youth, a whole other thing to witness it...

The thing was that the Kuchiki couldn't help but feel rather sympathetic to the other's plight, his pain, and genuinely wished to provide some sort of reassurance, even if it was but a little.

"Why would someone like you express so much concern for him?" had once asked the dark-haired noble to the former Espada(9), not grasping why the feline - he who had once been ready to outright brutalize and kill Ichigo - of all people had come to care for the young male.

But all and all, it was very hard not to express any sentiment at all for the teenager, when the latter in turn gave so much - almost all of himself - without expecting a single thing in return.

Once again, Byakuya despised the fact that he could ever have resented Kurosaki Ichigo so senselessly, notably when the latter wasn't and was never the source or cause of his torments.

"Though I cannot begin to fathom precisely the hardship you're going through, trust that you have my sincere sympathies, young man," murmured the shinigami captain gently, genuinely, acting out on impulse and slowly reaching for the other's shoulder, with the intent to comfort.

Only, the Kuchiki noble never managed to do so, as the young male vividly and hastily pulled away, far out of reach, wearing an alarmed expression coated in pure apprehension and dread.

Grey eyes widened, Byakuya stilled, hand retracting a little. ...What had he done wrong now?

It must have been the startled look to the other's features, because the teenager brusquely snapped out of it, looking deeply contrite as he stuttered out in a rush: "Oh God. I'm so sorry, Byakuya, I-! ...Just please, don't- I mean...Um. Nothing personal, really! But- I, uh, it's just-"

"-contact worsens this...condition of yours," ended the dark-haired male, fairly embarrassed, hand now covering his mouth as he quickly averted his gaze, dark locks falling over his eyes "I deeply apologize."

...How foolish, thoughtless could he be? Regardless of what had just occurred mere moments prior, hadn't Byakuya himself been the one to state out loud that he wasn't comfortable with being touched without permission or with, at the very least, the courtesy of a warning(10)? And yet, here he was the one to carelessly and causally attempt to touch another - regardless of what had been the noble's initial intent - leading to their discomfort, worse, to their pain?

As he saw the Kuchiki sink into himself, the teenager felt just as terrible, biting his lip hard. If Ichigo had any solid connection with his Inner World still, he was certain it was all kinds of a mess, irrespectively of the usual downpour and crumbling skyscrapers. For the reason that, in addition to all he was going through, he was now being gnawed sternly by culpability.

Though utterly unable to help it, the young male genuinely hadn't meant to react the way he had. It had been out of pure instinct on his part, notably with the sheer amount of pent-up and raging emotions burning up destructively within the Kuchiki noble, just begging to burst out.

The Shinigami Substitute shivered, not knowing what to think. Of all the people the he had come in contact with, so far, not once had Ichigo felt someone as dangerously crestfallen as Byakuya was. And it was downright terrifying as it was heart-breaking to know that-

Inwardly shaking his head, the young male categorically refused to dwell on it too much. Whatever curse or gift he now had, it still remained a scandalous violation of privacy. What he had accidently seen, had unintentionally felt, he shouldn't have, even if it had been beyond his control.

Those had all been Byakuya's private thoughts. His personal problems. His intimate secrets... His moments of weakness.

There were not the teenager's to know. Only now, they just wouldn't leave his mind alone. And he had absolutely no idea how to tell or explain this to the dark-haired male beside him...

"Byakuya, I... I'm the one's who sorry. Seriously, I-"

"No, please don't be. It's quite alright, Kurosaki Ichigo," interrupted the noble gently, eyes closed and totally oblivious to the other's inner turmoil due to his own concerns "I shall merely keep this in mind from here on out, now that I know. Besides this, uh, peculiar matter, with what has happened to us, I should not have unthinkingly touched you so...freely. So, I-"

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" had cried Inoue Orihime back then at the very top of her lungs, eyes wide with panic and distress, causing the noble to presently cut himself off in surprise...

Why was Byakuya recalling that now? That particular scene(11), when the young Quincy boy had attempted to comfort her and she had quickly, vividly pushed him away before he could.

Whereas the teen mumbled more apologies the noble paid no mind to, the dark-haired male's eyes widened further, picking up a pattern as he wondered why he'd suddenly thought of this.

Upon her return back amongst them, hadn't Inoue Orihime been avoiding all sorts of contact with everyone, even - and especially - with her dear and close friends?

The only person Byakuya had actually beheld her come in close physical contact with had been Grimmjow - when they both teamed up to wake Ichigo from his dire comatose state(12).

And even then, she had appeared to be in immense pain, though that had probably been due to an overuse of her abilities, given the events transpiring at that given time. ...But still.

During her stay at the Seireitei, Inoue Orihime had been so distant, sickly, but also incredibly saddened and constantly suffering, like she had the weight of the world upon her shoulders.

During and after the events of the Other War, Byakuya had thought her entire behaviour was ruled mostly by remorse.

Now, however, the Kuchiki Clan's leader had to wonder... Did the young girl actually have the same predicament then, as young Kurosaki Ichigo was having now? That seemed a little too far-fetched to assume that, didn't it?

Then again, why was the shinigami captain specifically making this sudden and inexplicable connection between the two orange-haired humans - well, Ichigo could no longer be labelled as such, given his current hair dye - despite having no real, hard evidence to do so? Was there a connection? One Byakuya wasn't seeing? Or was he simply reading too much into this?

"Again, it's not you, Byakuya. Really," repeated yet again the rueful young male - afraid that that he had the eerily silent noble vexed - and this time, finally, drawing the other's attention "I can't blame you for something that isn't your fault, come on. That makes, like zero sense."

Not yet saying a word, the 6th Division's captain watched the young male as the latter gave him a small, tentative but kind smile. And Byakuya felt utterly undeserving of it.

"I would not blame you if you did. Point in fact, you should," contradicted the noble quietly in a stiff tone, causing the teenager to frown faintly, stumped "After all, I haven't hesitated to make you - and your friends also - feel utterly insignificant, when such behaviour on my part was not in the least warranted."

Both of them stilled, frozen, Byakuya due to the fact that he had actually voiced that out loud, and Ichigo - given that he now had a faint insight over some of the noble's innermost feelings - due to knowing why the other had said that. The atmosphere surrounding them then heavily shifted into an intense awkwardness where suddenly neither were able to look at each other in the eye.

What a whirlwind of tumultuous and upsetting events. ...And the night hadn't fully begun yet.

"...I'm- I'm going for a walk," managed the teenager after a while, softly clearing his throat as he got to his feet, before fidgeting uneasily where he stood "You know, to- to calm down."

"Yes, you...do that," agreed the dark-haired male hurriedly, distractedly with a brisk nod, far too lost in his thoughts, up until he finally realized that the other had not gone anywhere yet.

Chancing a cautious glance in the Shinigami Substitute's direction, the Kuchiki's eyes went wide as he found the young male with brown eyes that were a lot shinier than they should be. But before he could confirm what he thought he saw, the teenager had already turned away.

"...Please, Byakuya. Don't hate yourself more than you already do," whispered Ichigo tightly as he ran straight out of their room, not giving the other enough time to reply or fully react. Till the teenager's words eventually hit home, causing the noble's hectic mind to reel, wildly.

Was that one memory, of his father and Aizen, the only thing the other saw? Had he seen, felt something else? What else did Ichigo now know? ...The noble truly didn't want to think of it.

Regardless of what happened and was too late to change, one thing was for certain and it was that Byakuya would have to be awfully wary of any skin contact between them from now on, unable to bear the idea of all he held hidden deep inside being known by anyone else. ...Ever.

000000000000000000000000000000000000

Strained mind an utter mess, Ichigo ran without paying attention to where he was heading, blindly letting his feet rush him down the currently empty, maze-like corridors of Débauche.

If only it were this simple, to run away from problems, and they'd just disappear into thin air. If only...

At times, the young male genuinely wished that he wasn't the type of person to be so affected as innately as he ended up being. By nearly everything foul that came hurtling down his path.

Though he did his best to keep it hidden, the teen was quite easily crushed under the weight of pressure, apprehension, distress, and so many other emotions - some he could not name or even explain, but still troubled him so, so much. And would just not let him be.

He entirely resented moments where he felt too young for such gut-wrenching predicaments. But, the truth was just that. He was too young.

He was just sixteen. Rather inadvertently mature for his age, yeah. But he still stayed sixteen.

Any chances at being a normal high school student - like he had always wanted to be - were long gone the day the world of the unseen, the world of the 'Dead', was exposed to him.

The teenager wasn't saying that he entirely regretted becoming a Shinigami in time, as it had helped him grow and shield those Ichigo loved and held close to his heart. That was how everything had started out after all. With a strong and selfless desire to protect.

Only, if he could have had it any differently, he would have picked that option in a heartbeat. The option of not having become a Shinigami in the first place, if to see what he had seen. The young male then found himself abruptly wondering if gouging his eyes out back then would have helped him any-

Downright horrified by those ghastly, morbid thoughts leisurely invading his mind, Ichigo, alarmed, hastily shoved them away as hard as he could, before he froze, when he recognized that these distraught feelings weren't his. Well, not entirely.

Distraught he was, yes, but he'd never had any intentions of self-harm, no matter the reason...

And yet, the young male couldn't fully chase the freshly implanted notion of it out his mind, the sensations and vivid imagery now embedded there, firmly and on persistent repeat.

Shaking his head and snapping his eyes shut, the young male bit his lip hard, desperate to get a grip. Only, the images insistently pervading him were crystal clear, too real to be ridden of.

The glinting side of a stolen pocketknife piercing flesh, releasing relief from jagged chinks it made along deathly pale, snow white skin.

The sweet feel of fleeting control that followed as bright, red blood gushed and dripped out-

...Damn it.

The 6th Division's captain was steadily becoming pretty messed up, wasn't he? Actually, all three of them were, but the Kuchiki noble had broken the record, without even trying. There were so many harmful and darkened emotions whirling within Byakuya that it was painful. Dreadfully painful. And Ichigo had to wonder how the other was still whole... If he even was.

To be fair, the teen was in no way condemning the other for his apparent 'coping mechanism' - for he was pretty sure they each had one, him and Grimmjow included, which they were all hiding from one another - but if such dangerous waters carried on creeping up on the tortured and tormented Byakuya, the latter would eventually, most definitely, end up drowning. And may never surface again.

Hence, deeply concerned, Ichigo dearly and sincerely wished to help the other, but he didn't know how. And it wasn't like the Kuchiki was being approachable lately.

The shinigami captain had never really been as such, but nowadays, the walls he had put up were thicker than ever. Deadly and agonized.

Independently of the promise made to Rukia, the teenager wanted to help the other, he really did. But how does one help a person who doesn't wish to be helped?

'You should mind yourselves more than you do me,' had uttered the noble quietly, a couple of nights ago, when the teen had accidently walked in on Byakuya - while the latter had been in the bathroom, a little too long for it to be normal - before going into full panic.

And there was reason to panic. Ichigo had found the dark-haired male sitting immobile, in the bathtub, his clothes still on, soaked from head to toe, looking eerily tired. Empty. ...Lifeless.

And, no matter what the teenager had done or said to coax a reaction from the other, Byakuya hadn't budged or even blinked, those grey eyes of his appearing darker and distant than ever.

Needless to say, Ichigo had been very much alarmed. And his tone of distress had been loud enough to rapidly draw the blue-haired male, the latter seemingly just as concerned to witness the Kuchiki like this. And it had taken them a while to 'bring him back', only for the noble to say those words to them, before promptly walking out on them without saying anything else.

...And the teen had this uneasy, uncomfortable feeling that the shinigami captain's words had an entendre he couldn't place.

At that time, upon debating the matter with Grimmjow later, they had both assumed that the noble's behaviour was a result of being sickened and disgusted with what was being done to them. Which appeared to make sense, and Ichigo believed he would have reacted the same. Who wouldn't?

Only, now, with what he had felt upon coming in contact with Byakuya, he knew that was not the entirely the case. Because, in addition to the utter repugnance he had for the patrons, the Kuchiki noble was also drastically repulsed with himself...To an intense and worrying degree.

'Please, Byakuya. Don't hate yourself more than you already do.'

And, although Ichigo was usually straightforward in whatever he said or did in general, never had he ever uttered something so sincere. Besides, it didn't scare or embarrass the teen that much to admit he cared - and had come to care for both Grimmjow and Byakuya more than he would ever thought it possible. For the time being, amidst the total mess of his haywire feelings, this at least made sense. ...Somewhat.

Speaking of which, the young male had this uncanny hunch that the entire atmosphere of this forsaken place was making all three of them unnerved and unwell. And quite unreservedly so.

There were so many harmful emotions in the smothering air around them here - arrogance, hatred, lust, rage, self-indulgence - all merged together like a lethal disease, patiently waiting to taint them whenever either of them would exhibit but a single, fleeting instant of weakness.

Without question, there was something terribly and horribly wrong with this place. And this, needless to say, in spite of the painfully obvious.

The teen really and absolutely had no idea what 'it' was, but he definitely - most undoubtedly - could sense it (which was most probably due to his newfound, pain-in-the-ass 'condition'). Whatever it was, it was driving the three of them over the edge, and maybe towards a point of no return...

Ichigo abruptly paused in his thoughts, looking around wide-eyed and realizing that he now had no idea where he was. Ha, fancy getting lost in these labyrinth-like hallways of all places.

As he ambled around hesitantly and out of breath, trying to figure his way back, he suddenly heard something. Something...perfectly unexpected and uncanny, which caused him to, once again, halt brusquely in his tracks.

In order to make sure he wasn't totally losing it, the teen listened raptly, fixedly, straining his ears to pick up that near inaudible sound that had caught his attention.

It was then that he registered, with startled fright that, the faint, ghost of a voice the teenager had heard whispering to him, was actually coming from within the depths of his own mind. And this was what it whispered.

Come. Come to me. Come, sweet sinless child. Find me. Seek me. And the downfall I unleash. I have been hewn to rid thee of the enemy, and the venerated pandemonium they unfurl. By the blood in thy veins, set me loose and bring an everlasting end to unruly reigns.

Despite the ethereal eeriness of this utterly absurd situation, the soft caress of this genderless, ancient whisper, fading in and out, gently touched his mind, like a tender lullaby. And the young male somehow, inexplicably, found himself gradually, steadily easing up, giving in to the mystifying voice, before closing his eyes and slowly letting it take over him.

And for the life of him, Ichigo couldn't explain why, nor convince himself that he shouldn't be doing this. He just felt this...irresistible need to, the need to listen, to follow. All he knew, is that he had to be led.

Where? ...It didn't matter. He simply couldn't bring himself to care or be concerned with that.

Hence, falling into a blind, blurred trance as the voice gently lulled him forth, the Shinigami Substitute let himself be steered down the halls, once more walking without knowing where he was heading, sauntering sightless within this dreamlike state.

And the closer he seemingly got, the less aware he became, falling and fading, deeper and deeper into the sway of the soothing, coaxing voice, which in turn became clearer and clearer with every step the young male took.

Sweet, sinless child. Deeply compassionate at heart, thou will do. Come. I shall give thou what is needed. Simply. Set thy touch upon me. And thou. Shall be freed.

Apart from the source of the teen's induced daze luring him towards it, nothing else from the young male's surroundings was visible to his eye, like it was all unnecessary and superfluous.

Nothing mattered at the moment. Nothing at all, but reaching the journey's end the enigmatic, ghostly voice was slowly drawing Ichigo towards.

After a moment or longer, for all notion of time was lost on Ichigo, the spellbound teenager mechanically opened a door he had, for some reason, found himself in front of, before letting himself enter a stochastic room and then automatically heading straight in a given direction, towards the very corner of the room.

And there, resting seamlessly centred and right on the top of an overly furnished dresser, laid the crux reason for the young male's being wherever he was.

Although the teen was too unaware to make out what the object was, it in fact was a medium-sized chest-like box, of an exquisite design and with elaborate, cryptic engravings carved all over its surface, which appeared to be made in something strangely similar to cut-glass or ice.

Lay thy hand upon me, child.

Reacting instantly upon the murmured command, his mind and reason on absolute shutdown, the young male lethargically reached out for it, his fingers seconds away from the ornate lid and closing in, closer and closer, just a little more and now but an infinitesimal breadth away-

"And exactly what are you doing here, boy?"

Ichigo jumped out of skin, startled straight out of his strange trance and brutally brought back to reality by the new voice that had suddenly come cutting right through.

Swirling around to face the one who'd just addressed him, the Shinigami Substitute stilled as he came face to face with last person he thought he'd ever have to talk to, his tongue tripping over itself as he tried to speak, in startled unease and unnerving disorientation: "Oh! I- uh..."

With icy magenta eyes and vivid, hip length magenta hair cascading loose rather than being held up in her usual pigtails, stood Doll, features expressionless, nigh downright blank, aloof.

In addition to being fairly deterred in front of her, the teen was utterly baffled, not knowing what to say. Or think for that matter, and-

...How did he get here? ...Or better yet, where was here?

The teenager hastened to glance around, lost - and attempting to figure out why he had this worrying impression that he had spaced or blacked out for an amount of time he was totally unable to account for. But he was like a fish out of water, unable to understand a damn thing.

Just about right and mostly appealing to the eye in its uniqueness, the room was not too small but not too large either. However, what was really flagrant about it was that it appeared to be divided in two, the left side and the right side, separated by the King-sized bed in the middle.

Like most of the other many rooms in Débauche as Ichigo had come to notice, there were no windows. And in addition to that, in this room at least, there were no pictures or frames. Not on the clear-tinted walls, nor on the only two ebony dressers present, one sitting on each side.

The one of the right was bare on top, but surrounding it at the bottom, were strewn an array of countless plushies, soft toys and teddy bears, of all shapes, sizes and colours.

There was literally a heap of them, so many, the teenager couldn't tally the exact number. What he was sure of though was, that if Rukia were to ever see this, she'd be over the moon.

In contrast, the dresser on the left was relatively full, but neatly so. A multitude of boxes, no bigger than small and medium, laid there, with one of them standing out, due to its particular and peculiar, unearthly glass-cut design.

The teen paused a moment as he looked at it, unsure why, before he forced himself to carry on glancing at his surroundings, now slightly more unnerved, for some strange reason.

There were two somewhat large wardrobes on each side, both halfway opened, letting it be known that the one on the left side held man's clothes, consisting mostly of shirts, jackets and trousers. And on the right, the clothes were clearly for women, predominant with dresses, for all sorts of occasions. In addition, the clothes, on both sides, were of various styles and alive with colours, though there were more sombre shaded attires than vibrant ones.

As for the dimmed and relaxing lighting in these chambers, it was distinctive. And beautiful. The lamps on the right gave off a red light, and the ones on the left side emitted a blue one, so the purportedly white walls reflected those colours quite nicely. And in the dead centre of the room, the two colours merged to give a magnificent purplish hue that shone over the bed.

'Nice,' thought Ichigo spontaneously, very impressed with the refined detail put in place here.

Still, upon looking longer, it was like walking into the room of a person who was facing an identity crisis, unsure which gender to identify themselves as. That either, or this looked like the room of a person who was grown up, but couldn't rid themselves from their child's heart.

Either way, it was as if the décor that had to pay the price for all the indecision and hesitancy.

And that, was when assuming this estranged but ethereal room allegedly belonged to a single and same person - only, at least to the young male, he guessed that these chambers weren't.

The teenager's attention was then redirected yet again when he detected a subtle yet rather exquisite attar in the air. It was quite pleasant, like something straight out of a rose garden.

That's when he caught sight of the vases, set in each corner, filled with freshly picked roses, of three distinct colours. White, blue, red. Those from the lush grounds encircling Débauche.

Overall, the room seemed rather warm and convivial. Yet bleak and hostile at the same time. And the young male wondered how such a contradiction was possible.

After abruptly realizing that he hadn't actually answered the other yet - what was wrong with him having such a short attention span all of a sudden - Ichigo then glanced at her wide-eyed, witnessing that she was still waiting, with an annoyed aura of impatience emanating from her.

"I- I don't...know?" finally managed the teen in a quiet tone, before looking around the place yet again with an openly puzzled frown.

Keeping her features schooled, the magenta-haired doll stared at him inquisitively with her large eyes, easily able to tell that he wasn't bluffing in the least or even feigning his surprise. The other really hadn't the slightest clue of how he had gotten here.

Magenta eyes then flickered restlessly, darting over to glance warily at the box the teen had been about to lay his hands upon - had she not intervened - prior to returning her focus on the young male again, studying the latter intently.

There were too many flagrant coincidences for it to be normal. His appearance, his entire presence, his essence- Who was this boy? Truly? And was Sosuke in any way asking himself the same questions she was?

For some reason, Doll didn't think so, or - if this gut feeling of hers wasn't totally off beam - the Child of Lust would have picked up on something by now. Unless it's because he was too preoccupied to pay attention.

A brief but rather uneasy moment for her passed, before she was able to find her voice again, her tone void as her features still were: "Well, you can't be in here, boy. This is the Master's room."

"Ai- Suzuki-sama's? Really?" uttered the teen, vague bewilderment evident to his features as he took in his surroundings yet again, this time with a deep, baffled frown "But, I thought..."

He didn't get it. Hadn't the child of chaos received him, Grimmjow and Byakuya in his own quarters before? Wasn't that what that witch, Manter, had said? ...Was he missing something?

Then again, this room seemed more like the immortal. Well, half of it did. The side on the left fit. Like a glove, in fact. The other half, though, just didn't make sense. ...Did it?

Unless Aizen now wore ladies' dresses in secret, which the teenager very much doubted... Then again, what did Ichigo know? The immortal was such an elusive and endless ambiguity, the latter could put Urahara Kisuke to shame.

The magenta-haired girl seemed swift to pick up on the other's confusion - and curiosity - for she spoke up again, her voice betraying nothing as she smoothly clarified things for the teen.

"No, no. That room is his 'so-called' quarters - or office - for everyone else. But these are his chambers," shared Doll as she gracefully, idly gestured around at the lavish yet simple room.

The incredulity was all over the teen's face as his wide eyes drifted to right part of the room: "...Even that side?"

"Even that side," she deadpanned, supressing a grin, before she stated in all seriousness, her tone hinting at a warning "No one knows his room is here. And he likes to keep it that way."

"I won't tell, I swear," promised the teenager solemnly in all his honesty, relatively vigilant of the immortal, and the repercussions that could follow, for him to forgo keeping his word.

And Doll was sharp to pick up on the other's utter candour: "Neither will I. Now, come out."

Not hesitating to comply, Ichigo followed her lead, moving to stand out in the hallway with her as she went and shut the door, before she gestured for him to follow her as she said she'd guide him back to 'where he had to be'. And those words stung more than they should have...

Silence then fell on them as the odd pair made their way down the halls, walking side by side.

And Ichigo, nervous around Doll and totally frazzled due to recent events, felt the need to break it, blurting out the first thing that popped to mind: "So, what were you doing in there?"

The magenta-haired girl almost smiled again, but did her best to keep her expression blank. Though she hadn't actually spoken to - nor did she quite dare to - the teen directly until now, she had heard quite a great deal about Débauche's new and youngest doll.

And what Doll had heard, led her to conclude upon one pertinent fact: that this boy was a lot sharp-witted than he looked. Despite the flagrance of his youth, he appeared slightly more aware, more in tuned. And, right now, this very given moment, only enforced her inkling of him, given that he intuitively asked the right questions. ...Ones she would not reply to.

So, rather than answer him, with an engaging, pleasant tone of voice, she smoothly redirected their conversation entirely, a tactic she was quite good at...and shared with a certain someone.

"We've met before, right?" she inquired with an artificial smile and all too saccharine voice "I bumped into you, that it?"

Though taken aback by the complete change in the conversation, the teen went with her flow.

"Yeah, sorry about that," mumbled Ichigo, feeling remorseful as he remembered that that first 'meeting' had caused her to fall to the ground upon impact.

The magenta-haired girl raised her eyebrows at him, before her features softened marginally as she threw him a playful smile: "Apologizing? Again? I bumped into you, not the other way round. But thanks for the apology, I guess. Pantera did say that you were a decent, little boy."

Brown eyes doubled in size as he snapped his head towards her: "...G- Pantera told you that?"

"Not his exact words, but yeah," shared Doll offhandedly, before she lowered her tone a bit as she confided, eyes twinkling bright "He talks about you a ton. You must really matter to him. That's a nice feel, right? To mean as much to someone, to the point where you're the only one on their minds. Still, I never got your tag though, since he mostly calls you 'the kid'. So, what're you called, kid?"

"...Ah. I- Uh. It's a real pain to be honest," muttered the young male after a lengthy pause on his part, glancing away, embarrassed - and not just because of his preposterous tag, for once. Grimmjow...would talk about him? ...A ton? The heck was Ichigo supposed to make of that?

Alright, yes, the teen had come to terms with the fact his relationship with the feline had fully changed from what it had once been, in such a way he'd never thought nor imagined possible.

Personally, he had no clue what was the suitable term to describe what they currently were; though the former Arrancar made it quite loud and clear that he was deeply concerned with the young male's wellbeing. And that was it. There wasn't more to that, on Grimmjow's part.

And yet, when the Shinigami Substitute had then asked the other why he was so concerned in the first place, the feline never truly gave a straight answer to that question, evading it (13).

So, what was Doll talking about? Did she know something he didn't? Was she implying tha-?

Eyes suddenly going wide, the teen blushed, turning somewhat pink in the cheeks as he found himself recalling that one moment of intimacy he and the other had to enact in Las Noches. Though the teenager was well aware that that had been a forced encounter for them both, he wasn't quite indifferent to what had happened between them. Because Grimmjow's touch had been too considerate, too gentle, too passionate, to just go on and forget what transpired then.

Although there was a feel of that moment being wrong on so many levels, he just couldn't help but appreciate how caring and careful the former Espada had been with him, all along... Or maybe the teen was being biased given that the blue-haired male had been, quite literally, his first...everything.

And his first kiss. The latter, out of everything, genuinely had had the most impact on Ichigo. Orihime hadn't been exaggerating when she shared with Grimmjow that a person's first kiss was a 'big deal'(14). And until this day, the teenager had no way to describe how it felt when the other had kissed him. Nor how it made him feel.

All he knew for certain was, that, if, no matter the reason, it had to be done all over again, Ichigo, as inane as it sounded - even to himself - wouldn't ever fault nor hate the other for it.

And, besides all that, what was really weighing down on the young male, what was truly and definitely bothering him, was that the blue-haired male was still an absolute mystery to him. Though he valued others' privacy, the teenager really wished to know more about the feline. He truly did. But he wondered if he ever would...

The magenta-haired girl politely kept quiet, watching closely as the young male was utterly unable to hide the deep conflict of emotions he was now in from colouring up his expression.

In all honesty, Doll wasn't making upanything per se. The blue-haired male did talk about this boy quite often. And with a certain amount of affection, unbeknownst to Pantera himself.

But, the magenta-haired girl was deliberately making it sound, making it seem as if there was something more. And according to the way the other had fallen silent, she had struck a nerve.

If she wasn't careful, she could cause an awful mess by bringing forth such pretty unfounded and, possibly, mistaken feelings.

Only, she'd been asked to play her 'role', one she was very good at. And so, play Doll would, wreaking havoc. All consequences be oh-so damned...She was destined to go to hell after all.

"Can't be worse than mine. Let me see," she finally said, fleeing her dangerous thoughts in favour of curving over to take a look at the tag on his bracelet, before she blinked, holding back a giggle "...Ok. Like, whoa. It is worse than mine. Do I actually have to call you...this?"

Flushing in faint mortification, the young male tried to shrug nonchalantly, whilst shaking his head in reply: "I don't think so, no. Maybe just in front of the patrons, I guess. Everyone's decided to go ahead and name me differently anyways."

This piqued Doll's curiosity, so she blinked up at him with her large, pretty eyes as she titled her head a bit, giving him all her attention: "Oh, yeah? Like what?"

Caught off-guard by her demeanour and rather lively expression - coming from a person said to mostly express none or to fake them - Ichigo just stared, unable to speak for a few seconds.

...Why was he so dreadfully intimidated by her again? Doll looked like a harmless, little girl. The teenager's cautious mind was then swift to emphasis on the words 'looked like', recalling the caution the former Arrancar had given him and the Kuchiki noble.

'Don't trust her. She fakes everything,' had warned Grimmjow gravely 'I can't tell what her exact fuckin' role here is, but I know one thing for sure. I got a bloody bad feeling about her. And my first instinct's never been fuckin' wrong. So, do me a favour and watch the fuck out.'

Honestly, given many reasons, the teen trusted the former Espada's judgment, in addition to his own - and the noble's - feelings of discomfort and unease around the magenta-haired doll.

And yet, young Ichigo wanted to believe that, as long as Doll didn't do anything to certify the worrying hunch all three of them had of her, she could be given the benefit of doubt for now. It was only fair really, and even the other two had eventually agreed to that choice...For now.

"Um, let's see," spoke up the teen pensively, when he again realized he had taken too long to answer the other "Most of the dolls call me 'Hero-chii', but the Twilights prefer 'little hero'. One of the patrons calls me 'Pumpkin' (awkward cough). And there's also...um, 'baby boy'."

"Oh! I like that one," she teased radiantly with an inaudible laugh, inwardly entertained as the other had whispered that last one, the latter now grimacing and shivering with intense dislike.

"Please don't."

"Alright, alright," conceded the magenta-haired girl with a small, fleeting smile, before she gave the matter at hand a curt thought "Let's see. Then, can I call you Ko-? ...I mean, Kou?"

Brown eyes blinked at that, while catching sight of her very briefly biting her lip in a possibly reproving manner, her magenta eyes going wide slightly, before it was all gone: "...Kou?"

...Strange. Ichigo had had the impression the petite girl had been about to say something else. And given the reaction she had just had, it probably was something she was not meant to say.

The teenager's mind strayed yet again as he remembered that she had actually called him by some name the first time they had met, out in the corridors. ...What had that been again?

"Yeah," she relayed nonchalantly, head titled as she scrunched her nose a tad in what looked like distaste "You know, from this terrible, terrible tag. Shu-jin-kou. That very last syllable."

"Kou," repeated the teenager yet again, testing the name out before he gave it a moderate nod "Yeah, I guess. It's not that horrible."

A thin magenta eyebrow steadily raised up archly at that: "Meaning it's not that great either."

Uncomfortable with this conversation but confident in his words, the teen declared resolutely: "Yeah, well, no matter how many have made fun of it, I prefer my real name. Always will."

Ichigo's name had always been an issue, which instigated and stirred up meaningless trouble. That, and his original, vivid hair colour - though Aizen and this place had robbed him of both.

And, for that, he had been constantly mocked and teased, bullied and bothered, ever since he could recall. ...People had a very bad habit of shunning whatever was 'different' in their eyes.

But the teen had eventually learnt to overlook their narrow-mindedness. He was the way he looked, and his name was his. Nothing in life could amend that. ...Not even the tag he'd wear.

For a brief moment, Doll stared wordlessly at the young male, seeing without looking, before a distinctly mirthless and dim smile touched her lips. And suddenly, she looked miles away.

"...I don't."

"Yeah? Why not?" he inquired wide-eyed, somewhat curious, despite having this feeling that she wouldn't answer him.

"Bad memories. Ones I could do very well without," she uttered vaguely, features not giving anything away as she offered the Shinigami Substitute a small, synthetic smile.

Doll then regarded the teenager for a moment longer, before carefully reaching out for Ichigo.

Due to what had ensued earlier with Byakuya, his first reaction was to instinctively pull back. But he then swiftly relaxed when he caught sight of her gloved hands, so he kept put instead, letting her touch and trace his jaw gently, as she whispered: "You know what? I think it's real rotten that you seem like such a sweet guy. And, honey, I am really sorry - if indeed you are."

A faint, fleeting genuineness crossed her typically cold, remote eyes, before it then vanished, fully, leaving room to an even icier expression as she gave her brightest, artificial smile yet: "Gotta go. See you around, Kou!"

Nodding at him pleasantly, Doll turned around and flew off before Ichigo could say anything, left bewildered by the eerie choice for her last words before rushing off like a passing breeze.

'Don't trust her. She fakes everything.'

Even so, Doll had seemed sincerely rueful as she had uttered those 'apologetic' words to him. At least, that was the impression the teenager got from that moment.

Again, it was hard to tell exactly what she was feeling or thinking, when she did her best to reveal nothing. For, if Byakuya had thick, protective walls up, Doll was hiding behind bolted, steel doors.

So, Ichigo had to wonder a little. What was she hiding? Or rather...what was she hiding from?

"Suzuki-sama isn't too fond of tardiness, little hero."

Faintly startled, Ichigo hastily turned around, only to see Kandu, on the other side of the hall. The dark-haired Twilight wasn't that loud, yet his voice was deep and imposing enough to be heard from quite a good distance. And he was, currently, at least thirty feet away.

Once the young male's attention was drawn towards him, the Twilight raised an eyebrow up, before he drawled out in his calm, smooth tone: "We've been looking for you all over, boy. Come now. You have to get ready for tonight. And you're already late."

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(1) See Part 2 of the Fallen Series, Chapter 1: A Horrifying Reality, Scene 2.

(2) See Part 2 of the Fallen Series, Chapter 1: A Horrifying Reality, Scene 3.

(3) See Part 1 of the Fallen Series, Chapter 8: Fate for Spoils, Scene 5.

(4) See Part 1 of the Fallen Series, Chapter 10: One Last Time, Scene 1.

(5) See Part 2 of the Fallen Series, Chapter 1: A Horrifying Reality, Scene 2.

(6) See Part 1 of the Fallen Series, Chapter 2: The Arrancar's Caveat, Scene 5.

(7) See Part 2 of the Fallen Series, Chapter 2: Under the Twilights (Part 1), Scene 2 (Flashback).

(8) See Part 1 of the Fallen Series, Chapter 6: Countdown to Chaos (Part 3), Scene 2 (Three).

(9) See Part 1 of the Fallen Series, Chapter 9: Taking It In, Scene 3.

(10) See Part 1 of the Fallen Series, Chapter 9: Taking It In, Scene 1.

(11) See Part 1 of the Fallen Series, Chapter 2: The Arrancar's Caveat, Scene 5.

(12) See Part 1 of the Fallen Series, Chapter 2: The Arrancar's Caveat, Scene 5.

(13) See Part 1 of the Fallen Series, Chapter 9: Taking It In, Scene 5.

(14) See Part 1 of the Fallen Series, Chapter 9: Taking It In, Scene 5.

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A/N: So, I'll be stopping here for now, given that, as usual, I ended up writing a far too-long chapter (I really do go all out with this fic, no restrictions at all).

If you have any questions - like, if anything was too vague or too rushed to be clear - ladies, gents and everyone else, please do not hesitate in the least to fire away your questions. Whether you submit your inquiries via PMs or reviews, I will diligently answer them for you in the best way I can. And, fear not, I don't bite. ...Much X3

Thank you so much for your support on the poll. See you next update...whenever that will be. Bella Ciao!