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.

6. Part Two: Chapter 3 P2

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

A/N: Hello, ladies, gents and everyone else! So, as stated in the previous update, this is the rest of Chapter 3! And I don't need to add anything to that, I think. So, please enjoy! ...If you can. Also, my sincerest apologies for SUCH a late reply - not only I had a massive writer's block for this series, but I was also taking part in a few online writing events (Halloween, Valentine's and more), as well as beta-ing here and there, I had to more than double on work (because of the worldwide 2020 nightmare) and I just had SO MANY horrible, horrible things going on, I'm so incredibly sorry! I sincerely hope this chapter was worth the wait! SO, SO SORRY!

Note: So, this is most definitely contradicting what I had said before, but I strongly recommend reading Part One of this series. Like, really. You'll be missing out on some pretty important details if you don't, and since Part Two is a direct continuation, so it would be better, to be fair. Only right now is probably a bad idea? I mean, I'm in the process of a major editing, so... Yeah. Please do as you see fit I guess is what I should be saying here, LoL "X3 Thank you for reading! Enjoy!

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Responding to your reviews:

To Tazbird: Hello there and thank you so much for your review! My gosh, thank you SO much, I'm honestly very flattered you're enjoying this story so far, YAY! I love long chapters too X3 They cover more of the story that way - they just take so long to write, especially when I'm not 100% focused on just one thing at the time... But thanks a bunch, both for reading and reviewing and I genuinely hope future chapters will also be to your like and meet your expectations! Bye!

Rating for this chapter: Exactly the same as in the former one, since this is still the 3rd chapter. Please be sure to review the warnings in the previous chapter in order to not be taken by surprise, thank you kindly.

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Part Two: Dignity Falls:

Chapter 3: Amoral and Immoral (Part 2):

Pick a part, you dream it up, use your imagination
Oh, boy, I'll be your fantasy

Tonight's the night
I'm dressing up for you

(Dressin' Up, by Katy Perry)

By the time Ichigo and Kandu reached the changing rooms upstairs, nearly every other doll was already there and swiftly getting ready, hasting to and fro as they donned their respective attires and matching garments, painted their faces either lurid colours or subtle shades, and glitteringly garnished themselves with dazzling accessories, from ornaments to all sorts of other pure bling.

All in all, despite how utterly glamorous and gorgeous they all looked, it just screamed FAKE, almost forced, if one was paying any real close attention rather than give them a shallow glance. In hindsight, the scene unfolding here, in this very room, was no different than decorating trees during Christmas times.

As the dolls narrowly evaded bumping into each other as they dashed around, glaring murder or smirking provocation when it inadvertently did happen, Kandu walked off to get dressed as well, but not without apathetically lecturing Ichigo: "You shouldn't waste time. Get ready too."

The teenager was half-tempted to pull out his tongue, but at the very last minute, held back the silly gesture, sighing tiredly instead. Because he'd very much be anywhere but here right now. Not only because of what was to follow and last for what felt like hours on end - when it was only from evening to dawn - but because tonight especially, he was so emotionally exhausted-

A heavy hand with a rather firm grip to his shoulder immediately snapped him back to reality as he was forcefully tugged to the side.

Startled but mostly annoyed, the Shinigami Substitute was about to scowl and fight back when he came face-to-face with glaring blue piercing right through his being with shocking intensity. "The heck were you, kid?"

Ichigo frowned, not understanding - nor feeling comfortable with - the other's ardent ferocity. The former Espada looked worried, panicked even. But he also seemed...angry? Whatever for?

"Got lost, wandering around," informed the teenager briskly, tone clipped and rather irritated as he easily broke free from the other's hold, glowering "Not like I can go anywhere else, right?"

Like the time around them, Grimmjow seemed to momentarily freeze at the other's response, wide eyes blinking rapidly for a fleeting moment as he inhaled sharply, before his gaze snapped to the side as his voice lowered a notch, coming out tightened: "Fuckin' excuse me for asking."

At the other's palpable tension, the teen's taut features softened significantly, as did his tone, all while he inwardly chided himself for being unfairly belligerent, blaming the sudden temper on his fatigue: "I didn't ask you not to. Sorry about that, Gri- Panthera, I- I'm just...drained."

Snapping back to stare at him, the feline's features fell entirely blank at the teenager's apology. And the latter truly had no clue what to make of it, now just as confused as he was concerned.

'What could be wrong with him?' mused Ichigo worriedly 'It's like something made him upset.'

Only 'upset' was not even the beginning of what the blue-haired was feeling as of right now. He was currently a wild whirlwind of emotions underneath the blank surface he was wearing. Between this hellhole of a place, the depraved patrons, the screwed-up dolls and the ominous owner, freaking Aizen Sosuke himself, the former Espada no longer knew what to do, literally.

'Please keep Ichigo safe,' was what had been asked of him, so many times. He wished he could keep true to his promises, as well as his own growing need, to keep the altruistic teenager safe. But how could he?

He kept trying to convince himself that this situation simply came to be only due to the lack of choices and alternatives which had been in their reach. But it all felt like excuses to Grimmjow, despite the fact he had no choice or say in the matter, no powers to change things or go strangle the immortality right of Aizen. The former Arrancar truly wished he could- was able to do more. But he felt powerless - a feeling he, alas, was used to, but never hated as much as he did now...

"Hey," began Ichigo carefully, frowning faintly as he reached out for the other, only to stop a shy away from actually touching him "You're tetchy tonight - well, more than usual. Are you-?"

"I'm fine," waved off the feline almost instantly, cutting the younger male off from asking any further, before focusing on the latter with vivid scrutiny, open concern colouring his blue eyes "...Are you?"

Under a gaze of such intensity, the teen's brown eyes went wide as he replied: "Y-Yeah. Why?"

"You look...I dunno, shaken a bit. Something happen to you?"

Looking like he had just been caught doing something bad, Ichigo flushed and began fidgeting, vaguely wondering if he had somehow turned transparent due to all of Grimmjow's sharp stares.

He glanced at the 6th Division's Captain - already looking their way - who then tilted his head slightly to the side as he steadily held the younger's gaze, leading to Ichigo's utter astonishment.

So, Byakuya hadn't told Grimmjow - the teen truly appreciated that unexpected consideration. But should Ichigo tell him about it? Not that he was thinking of hiding the incident from him out of distrust or the like, but...He really didn't have the strength to talk about it all over again. Plus, Grimmjow seemed to have quite a lot weighing on his mind lately, so the teen really didn't want to burden him further- Ichigo then sighed tiredly, honestly having no clue what to do here.

Curious but sullen blue eyes carefully took the tired teen's sudden discomfort and agitation, as if attempting to detect exactly what was something amiss, before the former Arrancar exhaled, features tempering as he whispered, his tone gentle but firm: "If you don't wanna tell me, that's fine, kid. You can tell me after. Or not at all, it's up to you. Just remember, if you need me to, or pretty boy even (Byakuya didn't even hesitate to nod in agreement at that, not a single word of remark or reproach from his lips), we'll listen. I fuckin' promise."

At that, the teenager let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding in for a while now.

He'd truly rather not think about what transpired before - it was...too soon - and surely not now, since all three of them, tragically had 'work' to attend to, meaning that Ichigo definitely didn't need anything more troubling on his already overwrought mind.

So that both Grimmjow and Byakuya were more than willing to give him time however, led to Ichigo's rather immense relief, as if an impossible burden had been lifted from his shoulders. Genuinely grateful for their consideration, the emotionally exhausted Shinigami Substitute gave them both a small, but totally sincere smile: "Thanks, guys. Really, I mean it."

Seeing the younger male smile for the first time in what felt like so long, had a gentle, relaxing feeling on both the feline and the noble, causing the former to break into a half grin while the latter just about suppressed a smile of his own, settling for a faint inclination of his head instead. But neither were given the time to respond, as a cold, cutting voice came bursting their bubble.

"Stalling won't prevent the inevitable, you know?" drawled Jugo with haughty condescension as he sauntered by and eyed all three of them with disdain "So hurry up and get dressed already."

Rather than just leave it at that however, Jugo nonchalantly unfurled his ever-so faithful whip a slight and smacked Ichigo right across his rear with it, drawing a yelp from the teenager and earning very dark glares from the other two. But the Twilight, face stone, was utterly unfazed, rather satisfied and pleased with himself now that he had their whole attention: "I honestly don't care what you wear, as long as you keep it unique to yourselves, and more importantly stick to the colour theme. And remember that you're supposed to show off skin, not hide it."

And to add further insult to injury, like he hadn't done enough already, as Jugo sauntered away with the sharp, smug click of his high heels, on his way, he seized the corner of Byakuya's top. And ripped the clothing straight off with an ugly tearing sound, leaving the noble's chest bare and leading the latter's features to blanch, before he grit his jaw and teeth tightly in silent anger.

Worse still, Jugo had the sheer audacity to feign surprise, as if he hadn't been the one to do it: "Oops. Better wear something else there, candy boy."

Inwardly bleeding muted rage and mortification, the Kuchiki noble stiffly made his way to the closest vanity, deliberately avoiding eye-contact the rapt on-lookers as he sat down utterly rigid.

Staring dead ahead at the mirror before him without seeing, Byakuya picked the nearest object - a brush - and began combing his hair mechanically, bristles digging into his scalp like needles. At the sharp, stinging sensation, the noble suddenly felt the irrational urge to press deeper, in hopes of leaving bruises, drawing blood, creating agony he could control. A pain for another, replacing the one the hurt the most, just so he could stifle and bury down all the nightmarish emotions welling up from within, begging to burst, rage and ruin-

A gentle hand grazed his skin, just barely, like a feather breezing by, leading the noble to glance up behind him and lock eyes with gentle brown just as Ichigo set a jacket over his shoulders. As silver grey eyes fell upon him, querying but lost in the distance as well, the teen just offered a simple smile, patted and then squeezed, light but strong, at Byakuya's now clothed shoulder, before Ichigo walked away to go join Grimmjow again.

The Kuchiki allowed a frown to cross his features, hand clutching the jacket absentmindedly. Unable to help it, he didn't, really didn't, like that Ichigo knew, knew about what he was so desperately trying to hide, to suppress. But Byakuya also had once uncovered one of the teen's own 'dirty' little secrets just as well, on accident - of the Hollow living within Kurosaki Ichigo.

They were even here. And the noble was well aware the teenager would never tell another soul. Just like Byakuya himself had never shared(1).

"Yo, what's tonight's colour theme?" inquired Bambi suddenly all while applying her lipstick, her question cutting through both chatter and thoughts.

"Black and Gold," replied Bazz offhandedly, barely paying attention, all his focus on Jugo's long ponytail "Shades of red, brown, gold or bronze - for accessories, mostly - are good to go."

"And what's after the plays?" questioned the blue-haired feline, unawares of today's schedule, although he realized he probably should have been, for Ichigo's sake - this was his first night...

At that, the redhead fully paused in his actions, an eyebrow arching as he stared at Grimmjow with could only be labelled as sheer and utter incredulity, before he deadpanned: "The patrons."

"I'm NOT fuckin' stupid, Twilight," snarled the feline, really not enjoying the fact that seemed to be totally what the other was thinking, before Grimmjow hissed "Which night we're having?"

The feline looked tempted to add a nasty insult after that, but strongly refrained from doing so. He had heard, from his companions and others, about the Twilights and the bad news they were.

Even so, he had it made it pretty clear to the three dolls, that if they ever went after either Ichigo or Byakuya, outside of the immortal's orders - because of course, Grimmjow had no power then - he would absolutely retaliate, effective immediately. And mercilessly so.

He wasn't sure if they had taken him seriously or if they were simply being wary...either way, since that one threat, all three of the Twilights had steered clear from the noble and the teenager whenever the former Espada was around, taunting cruelly but never going any further than that. But Grimmjow had caught them lurking a bit too much around Byakuya whenever he was alone. And he had an inkling that strongly was the reason behind the Kuchiki's descent into despair...

"Tonight's," drawled out Bazz then, as he scanned their schedule on a calendar iPad-like device Kandu often carried around with him, before Bazz's expression slightly but quickly turned sour.

It really was a blink-and-you'd-miss-it moment, but Ichigo and the other two had seen it clearly.

"...Fucking Bacchanalia Night."

There were a couple of complaining groans raising all at once as soon as he'd said that out loud, leading Ichigo and Grimmjow to regard each other with concern. That didn't sound good at all.

"Holy shit, B-man," drawled out Jilliel tonelessly while he focused on applying his eye shadow "No need to remind us, damn."

Nearby, Bambi had completely stopped what she had been doing and ran a hand over her face, a sweat breaking across her furrowed brow: "God, I fuckin' hate those."

"Amen," agreed Gigi before she frowned at her own words "...Even though I don't do religion."

"Same," commented Shuu with an expression of sheer disgust, before he waggled his eyebrows and grinned in an oily and illicit fashion "I'd rather do someone else...if you know who I mean."

His words led Kujo, though on the other side of the room, to stiffen, which made Leona glare: "...That's so not funny."

Shuu simply cackled in response, utterly unapologetic and uncaring, whereas Kujo chose then to speak up in turn, her tone and expression betraying nothing of her previous, subtle reaction: "Well, there are worse nights."

"Nuh-uh. Not as bad as this one," contradicted Bambi, shaking her head, arms making a cross, which led Kujo to tilt her head and raise her eyebrows a slight.

"So, the Hunt's all good in your books?"

A collective, near chilling silence washed over them for a couple of seconds, with a few of the dolls even shivering, before Bambi recovered: "Fuck, you're so right. That one's much worse."

"Like hell it is. I'd very much 'fuck up' than be fucked, just so we're clear," gainsaid Shuu then which caused a debate to arise, two parties unwittingly forming over those who chose to agree. And those who didn't.

As the dolls carried on 'chatting', Byakuya and Ichigo both regarded each other questioningly, before they shifted their quizzical gazes over to Grimmjow...only to find that he seemed to be as completely lost as they were.

Whenever they would think there was a limit to Aizen's love for depravity, they were so wrong. Over the past week, the trio had come to find that every single night of the month was...different. In aspect at least. Because in depth, it all fundamentally remained, more or less, the exact same, since it was always all about lust, desire, fetishes or fantasies, pleasure or pain, and sex.

Display Days, Red-light District Days, Escort Days, Mingle Days, All Choice Days...and those were a just what the main trio knew of, for now. However, it hadn't missed their attention that the majority of the dolls spoke ill of the Bacchanalia Night and The Hunt the most, amid all the other 'events'. But none of them shared what they were, nor what would occur on those nights...

Whilst Byakuya believed they were better off not knowing and Grimmjow sincerely didn't care, the Shinigami Substitute, once again, wasn't overly fond of the idea of going in just like that, ignorant and oblivious - it had never served him as well in the past, after all, so...lesson learnt.

Itching to understand, Ichigo tentatively cleared his throat, in hopes of garnering someone's attention. But only a handful of dolls then - either those who were not that disinclined to being bothered, or those were merely bored - chose to regard the teenager then with expecting looks.

"Uh, so... What's a Baka-? Baakna-? Um. ...Ba-?"

"Bacchanalia," supplied Meni helpfully, with a patient smile and nod, kindly encouraging the other to continue, while the other eavesdropping dolls sniggered softly, or snickered mockingly.

"Yeah, that. What does it mean? And like, what...happens, exactly?"

As the pink-haired doll pursed her lips and tapped her chin thoughtfully, attempting to find a 'nice' way to explain tonight, Shuu smirked scathingly before he exchanged glances with a cynical, sardonic-looking Gigi: "Should I tell him?"

With the other's wit totally transparent to her, the dark-haired doll's scorning smirk widened as she played along, her tone unkind: "Nah, don't fucking bother, Shuu. Leave them in the dark. It'll do them some real good."

"Well, etymologically speaking, Bacchanalia is just another word for orgy, really," shared Meni with a distant, thoughtful expression, still clearly thinking of a way to tread softly, while Shuu and Gigi simply rolled their eyes, disappointed that their fun had come to a rather abrupt end.

"Tch. Fucking killjoy."

"...An orgy," intoned the Kuchiki noble, revulsion painted upon his features "How despicable."

At the speed of lightning, Candi snapped her head in his direction swiftly, glaring dark murder: "Because you think we fucking like it?"

There was one thing that the Kuchiki noble did not like, and that was talking to the other dolls. Or entertaining the idea of a conversation with them. More so since it irked him rather than him considering it to be beneath him - he wasn't allowed to think that way any longer, now was he?

"Come on, bitch, you opened your fucking mouth. Don't be going soft now. Fucking answer."

"If it does bother you so," reacted Byakuya, features cold steel "Then why not speak against it? Do something about it? If you do not enjoy it, why go through with it at all?"

Something all of a sudden shifted in the atmosphere of the room, and Byakuya was now at the centre of over more than ten different pair of eyes, leading him to instantly go rigid in response. This was fairly nerve-racking. Their stares were far from lustful - like those of every patron that would lay their eyes on him - but he was still ill at ease, almost tempted to look away in haste...

Candi finally broke the silence, but there was something slightly different about her demeanour. It was much too calm. Almost subdued.

"...We're never getting out of here. Just might as well get used to that, guv. We certainly have. Somewhat. I don't particularly enjoy - as you put it - doing this, but it's WAY better than the alternative, believe me. So, if Suzuki-sama were to order me to lay still, spread my legs and let a hundred patrons, or more, fuck me senseless, I'd do it. Without a single thought or complaint. Like, so fucking...be it, you know?"

Byakuya went absolutely quiet. Because no, he did not know. He could not understand. At all.

And neither did Grimmjow, but his silence was for a reason other than the noble's abject horror.

The feline had shrewdly picked up on a very telling part in the soliloquy of her rampant rant. Whether it was an accidental a slip on her part or not, she had said 'better than the alternative'. Having had to deal with him for far longer than he would have liked, Grimmjow was well aware that Aizen blackmailed almost as much and as easily as he'd breathe. So, it wasn't strange to him, at all, that there could be some sort of bargain also set between the immortal and the dolls.

Though, he had no idea what it could be, as each person had their own exploitable weaknesses. And he doubted the dolls ALL had the same one.

"The word in itself is of Roman origin, I believe," spoke up Meni abruptly, carrying on their previous point of discussion with an absorbed expression, as if nothing had ensued in between "Yep. From Bacchus, god of revelry and debauchery in Roman Mythology, whose counterpart in Greek Mythology is Dionysius. ...Lordie, I feel all nostalgic now. Mythology was something I adored reading about back as a kid."

Byakuya tilted his head at that. Huh. The god of revelry and debauchery? ...How utterly fitting.

Ichigo seemed to be thinking along those lines too, if his shaken expression was anything to go by, before he hesitantly gave Meni a tiny smile: "Ah. Th- Thanks. I guess. Um- Meni, right?"

It was an easy tag to remember. Plus, it helped that she was literally the nicest out of the quartet of utterly inseparable girls after all, if not probably just outright the nicest doll there was - and this, without including Millie and Leona, who were truly sweet, in addition to Jilliel and Tora, who kindly chose to never bother them, or anyone else really, regularly keeping to themselves.

But she also painfully, inadvertently, reminded Ichigo of Orihime. So, although he really did appreciate Meni, it was hard for him to talk to her, or simply just look at her directly. Being the way she was however, Meni never questioned it or held it against him, genially sympathizing with whatever plight he or anyone else had. As for the three other girls in that strange quartet...

Candi strongly disliked men for some reason, and would lash out in anger towards them - or any male for that matter, apart from the patrons (for she had no choice). And, of course, Aizen. Gigi...Gigi was plain out creepy, so the three of themwere the ones who chose to avoid her. She genuinely gave Ichigo and his two other companions the chills, and without even trying. And Bambi, the surly, stuck-up brown-haired girl just downright acted like they did not exist...

"Wish you hadn't asked, hm?" guessed Meni then gently, bringing Ichigo back to the present, only to find her up from her seat and walking towards him, her features relatively rueful as she eyed him closely.

"Kind of, yeah," he replied quietly, kind of embarrassed that he had been seen through so easily.

"Not all of us will be part of it," she reassured gently "You might not be picked if you're lucky."

"How do you get picked?"

"By the patrons drawing lots," she replied simply, before elaborating at his confused expression "They each pick the name of the doll - which is written upon a series of slots - they want to see participate in the Bacchanalia. Then put their slot in this box, which automatically categorizes the number of slots per doll. In the end, the box will instantly point out which dolls have the most votes. And those voted for, will be the ones to take part in the Bacchanalia."

That, sounded much more disturbing that it ought to be. And the fact that Meni was explaining this all so casually, and with a smile to top it all, was not helping that icky feeling in any way...

"...And how many dolls have to participate?" asked Byakuya then, mutely hoping not too many.

"Depends on the number of patrons really. Some are fine with sharing a couple of dolls for the night, while others are just too greedy or too insatiable to share. But there's generally a specific number - which I don't have in mind," frowned Meni then, unable to recall, before she turned around to inquire "Candi?"

"A minimum of three to four, a maximum of ten or more," replied Candi automatically, barely even needing to pause or think about it, given she'd been listening, before she glanced at Ichigo sharply "Odds aren't at all in anyone's fucking favour, kid. Don't get your hopes too high up. No matter what Meni just fucking told you."

"Don't worry. Candi doesn't like anyone," mentioned Meni ruefully for the umpteenth time. She apparently always felt the need to apologize on Candi's behalf especially, like some reflex.

"I sure as hell fucking don't. Not even you, Doe Eyes," pointed out the lime-haired doll nastily, to which a stiffened Meni only responded to by muttering the word 'meanie' under her breath.

"It's alright," brushed off Ichigo quietly, to which Candi swiftly snorted at, loud and spiteful, before he gave Meni a small, sincere smile "Thanks."

She was all smiles at that, before she smoothly closed the distance between Ichigo and herself, till they were a breath away from face-to-face. When the teen didn't back away, Meni beamed.

"No biggie! Just do me," she uttered softly, the awkward pause in her speech making Byakuya shiver and Grimmjow flinch "One little favour, sweetie, and hold on as hard as you can. I really, really don't want to see you crumbling down. You're way too nice for that."

Ichigo kind of wanted to roll his eyes at that, but he appreciated her attempt at cheering him up. Rare were the simple and pure moments that happened in such an unholy and adulterated place, but when they did happen, they were very much welcomed.

"I'll try, yeah. Thanks, Meni."

She placed a quick peck to his cheek then before running her fingers through his hair fleetingly, her expression distant, closed-off, prior to walking off with sway and a coy wink sent his way.

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Ichigo then averted his attention to the Kuchiki noble as the latter, now fully 'dressed', joined him and Grimmjow, who was the first to address Byakuya: "Ready, Z?"

Given that Byakuya outright loathed his 'tag' and used it as little as possible, Grimmjow had considerately taken that detail in stride, and gave the other that nickname instead - which even Ichigo had also ended up using without realizing it.

And the noble, truthfully, didn't mind. It was slightly more acceptable than that unbecoming, blight of a tag he had been forced to bear.

'Will I ever be?' thought the noble restlessly as he shook his head, before responding evenly"However, I do have my...part memorized."

"And was it...easy to do? I mean, I'm so not putting your memory in question, of course. But I know I'm terrible at remembering. That's a real pain whenever exams come up, believe me."

Both Grimmjow and Byakuya could only blanch, wishing the teenager hadn't said that last bit.

They were already painfully aware of his youth and, even if he had mentioned this inadvertently, they needn't be reminded...reminded that they were completely powerless to prevent him from losing his innocence and youthfulness more than he already had, experiencing worse every day.

Ichigo also appeared to realize, albeit too late, what he had uttered out loud, and he was quick to flush in horrified mortification, about to start an apology. But he never did get to express it, as the Kuchiki noble took it upon himself to dissipate their tense moment, acting in Grimmjow's stead, given the latter's sharp tongue had seemingly turned to lead, all against the feline's will.

"I have participated in plays when I was much younger - in my preteens, if I recall correctly. So, learning lines is- can be a simple process, yes. At least for me it is," offered Byakuya, unable to hold back a small, soft smile at the look of utter amazement touching at Ichigo's expression.

"Whoa, you've done theatre before? That's kind of-"

"Dull?"

Ichigo was fast to shake his head, surprised the other would assume he'd think that: "Not at all. Trust me, 'dull' would be welcome right now. Was about to say cool actually. Never knew that. I mean..."

He had been about to say Rukia hadn't told him. Usually, she'd gush about her brother nonstop. But Byakuya caught on to what the other had been about to say. And was quick to move their conversation along then, lest he felt the constricting thorns around his heart tighten even further.

"There is quite a lot we do not know about each other."

Ichigo acquiesced mutely to that, given that he had been considering it merely moments prior. He didn't know much about Grimmjow or Byakuya... And the two knew very little about him.

"And," intoned Ichigo, brows furrowed in his hesitance and uncertainty "Is that good, or bad?"

Neither had the time to reply however, as Jugo spoke up, addressing everyone within the room: "Dolls of Débauche. We're up. Let's go."

Everybody line up, the show is about to start
Places, the show is about to start

You have to show a look, have a look, or give a look

Faces, beautiful
No one, ugly, allowed

Are you ready? Here we go

Fashion is the art, designers are the gods
Models play the part of angels in the dark

Which one of you would ever dare to go against that beauty is a trade?

(Fashionista, by Jimmy James)

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As he had originally decreed it, Aizen had made it so that our trio of protagonists were kept completely separated from each other during the nights, each of them somewhere different, doing something - or rather, someone - specific. This was actually the very first time, in the past week and few days that all three of them were going to be in the same place, at the same time.

Not only that, it would also be the first time Byakuya was actually participating in a roleplay, and the first time Ichigo would witness one take place. And, needless to say, neither were really looking forward to it.

Grimmjow, for one, did not enjoy them. Not. One. Bit. Which was not at all reassuring to know.

All while being subjected to the immortal's unrelenting control over him, the former Arrancar, in time, had learnt to endure whatever was thrown at him, to numb it down, to no longer care. And yet, the blue-haired feline genuinely disliked the night's events - gave him 'chills', he said.

Hence, the teen was nervous and the noble was profoundly distressed, because going through it with a complete stranger, behind closed doors, was already one very intimidating and invasive situation as it was. But to do it in front of an audience, this large...

The dolls, having gotten used to this sort of 'event', were given scripts to memorize during the day and they'd simply and swiftly play their part when night came. And while Grimmjow just, in time, went with the flow - unable to recall his lines for the life of him - in Byakuya's case, he had been given his script two days ago, and he had been rereading them while occasionally being prepped by the Twilights ever since. It had been strange to have them lecture rather than show, the noble had stated at some point. And the other two didn't know what to make of that.

Ichigo let out a shaky sigh as he shut his eyes for a moment, chasing away a series of shivers. He really wasn't looking forward to this night. He just...had an awfully bad feeling.

Honestly hoping it was just a feeling while casting his crawling concerns away for the moment, the teenager awkwardly just stood there as he looked around him, taking in the room he was meant to sit in for the first half of this very night.

The Show Room. It was a large room, quite large in fact, intimidatingly so, probably by far the largest one he had seen as of yet, besides the main hall. There were accent walls, two of a gaudy, garnet red, only to be completed by two other walls of dark, glittering gold, shimmering dimly.

There were no windows here as well. But he had been told that besides the main entrance, which was of double doors of red oak with shiny clean, golden knobs, there was another door here. It was one he couldn't see, not from where he stood. Yet he had a faint idea of where it could be.

Ichigo's unease and nervousness returned tenfold when his gaze fell upon the stage facing him. It looked so desolate, so cold, so lonely, and the warm lights adorning the place along with all the fancy décor were doing absolutely nothing to appease that impression(2).

Despite all its glamour and splendour, the entire room gave off a claustrophobic feel to Ichigo. And it only worsened when those doors opened then and in came pouring the patrons steadily, adding to the stifling atmosphere, with their gaudy glam, fake finesse and improper intentions.

Keeping his hands close to himself, just to be safe, just to avoid contact, the teen felt his throat tighten, his ribcage clutch within his chest like a vice - if this kept up, he would stop breathing...

A slight, gentle touch upon his shoulder reeled Ichigo back into the here and now, leading him to lock eyes with Grimmjow's, emotion bright in those brilliant blues: "How're you feeling?"

He realized that the blue-haired male had gradually stopped asking if the teen was alright lately, shifting instead to asking how he felt. And he wondered if it was because it was SO obvious, how not okay he was - regardless of the entire circumstances forced upon them.

Ichigo appreciated it though, the unconditional level of concern Grimmjow dedicated to him, all on his own and without demanding or wanting anything in return. Honestly, it was very nice.

"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."

The words Doll had uttered earlier abruptly crossed his mind then, and Ichigo's cheeks flushed without his permission, turning bright, tomato red as he stiffened on the spot, unable to respond.

For some reason though, the teen acted on impulse and ducked his head low, burying it against Grimmjow's chest, hiding himself away from a world he absolutely wanted no part of. At least here, in the blue-haired's arms, Ichigo was safe. Felt safer. A silly thought, but a welcome one.

The teenager stilled then as he noticed the other male stiffen at the sudden contact on his part. Uh-oh. Should he have not done that? Was he overstepping?

Feeling awkward, he was about to pull back and away when strong arms wrapped around him, keeping Ichigo secured in place, prompting the latter to abandon the struggle and wholly bask in the soothing bliss and warmth of this small moment...

In all honesty, Grimmjow had not been expecting this from Ichigo. Not here, not now, not in front of so many eyes. And because of that, at first, he had absolutely no clue how to react to it. Not because he was ashamed or embarrassed - ha, screw that - but because of what this simple, sweet, little interaction could eventually lead to afterwards. What if it gave the patrons ideas? What if it gave Aizen ideas?

The feline Arrancar stifled a shiver at the thought of having to take Ichigo, by force. His train of dark, horrid thoughts led him to instinctively tighten his embrace around the younger male. Long ago, he wouldn't have even blinked if such a thing was ordered of him, no matter what. But with Ichigo? He couldn't. He genuinely could not even bring himself to imagine or consider it. He wouldn't be able to fake it. Because the risk of Ichigo despising him was much worse...

Gritting his teeth, both out of frustration and a fear he could not name nor understand, the former Espada contemplated his next move within this fairly precarious situation. Luckily, no one had noticed them yet, what with everyone making a hubbub as they bustled in and took their seats. Aizen wasn't looking their way either, evidently too busy talking with a few 'esteemed' patrons.

The feline let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. This was fortunate enough. Now, they needed to move, out of sight. Immediately.

That being said, Grimmjow really, really didn't have the heart to let Ichigo go at the moment.

"Listen, the both of you, we cannot stay standing here, we-"

Byakuya's voice suddenly broke through whatever magical trance that Grimmjow and Ichigo had been under, startling them before they cast broad, confused eyes in the noble's direction. Only to find the Kuchiki staring at them just as puzzled.

But before he could ask for clarification or wonder aloud what was wrong, Candi came bustling forward, flapping her hands aggressively, practically shooing them off: "The hell are you doing, you're all in the way! Just fuck off to your stations till Suzuki-sama decides to call you! Move!"

Not even bothering to argue or even pay her any mind, the three of them wordlessly but quickly moved away, off to the very left side of the large room, staying out of the way of the growing audience sitting down, utterly elated at the notion of what was on the verge of taking place here.

Byakuya peered out at the patrons walking in and taking seats amongst the many lush armchairs there at their disposal, all of them facing the stage just like they would in a theatre.

Paying close, careful attention to who was here and was not, the noble sifted through the crowd, before a series of shudders ran through him. There were a few Byakuya recognized, and who he would have very much preferred if they hadn't come here today - today, of all days. Great. Perfect. Where was Lady Luck - if she even existed to begin with - when he truly needed her?

Seeking to escape the disgusting fear clawing at him from within, the noble shifted to the other two standing next to him, currently rather silent. And looking everywhere, but at each other. Byakuya could only arch an eyebrow at that: "...Are you alright? What happened to you two?"

What indeed. Neither Ichigo nor Grimmjow knew or could explain, still a little dazed, dazzled, as they chanced a glance at each other then. Unsure. Uncertain. And utterly unaware of Doll in the distance, watching them intently from the very start of their embrace and what had followed with an odd glimmer bright in her eye, before she smiled emptily, all chilling and sickly sweet...

Booming music suddenly filled the air, causing the trio to instantly cover their ears in response, before all three looked at each other in undisguised, sick dread. Tonight's nightmare had begun.

Oh, they're gonna love us,

Oh, they're gonna love us

We're beautiful, beautiful

The lights went out then, only for the many spotlights on stage to suddenly come to life instead, revealing in the right centre a cluster of dolls - Candi, Meni, Gigi, Bambi, Kujo and a sixth girl, with long sparkly lavender hair, whom Ichigo could have sworn he never saw here before(3).

Oh, they wanna kiss us,

Oh, they wanna dress us,

We're beautiful, beautiful

They were all locked into each other, limbs connected and intertwined intricately, making them look like a single unit, before steadily breaking apart so abruptly, but in tandem with the music. Beat by beat, the girls gradually broke free from each other, their movements awfully graceful while also appearing very mechanic, near robotic as they jerkily danced away from one another. As though to show off, or prove, or even remind that they were nowhere close to human beings.

Yeah, look at me

Tell me what you see?

Now fully standing separate, the six dolls stood far apart, each dancing a very different routine, from the elegance of ballet to the effrontery of burlesque. But it still looked unnatural, abnormal. They all looked like puppets on strings, as if it was the music itself, and it alone, that was this powerful, higher being, dictating their every move, and had them all possessed, under its spell.

Am I, I a creep?

But I, I don't even know

Are you impressed?

Do you like my dress?

There was a sudden shift in the dancing as it seemed only slightly more natural now, with the dolls coyly acting out the lyrics, stroking the length of the fancy, colourful dresses they wore - those contemporary stage dresses of velvet and sequins, shimmering in the lights around them. They then, in perfect harmony, pinched at the lower hem, before giving a courtesy and showing off their clothing for the audience to see, a round of applause praising aloud the dolls' appeal. Murmurs of approval rose along with the measured claps, never once overlapping the music...

Am I worst or best?

Oh wait, I don't really care

As the rhythm changed yet again, and the beat became even more aggressive, so did the dolls, suddenly grabbing and ripping their clothing to shreds, revealing very scanty outfits underneath - it was all white leather, barely covering skin, while leaving little if not nothing to imagination.

Unblinking eyes filled with fierce intensity, never diverting their gaze from the audience avidly watching them, the six dolls, entirely empowered and utterly unashamed, pranced forward slow, in synch, confident, and without a fault in their step.

Shifting with the tempo, between slow sensuality and vigorous verve, the moves were simple, but with the speed to match the music and the chain made it look impossible to imitate or dissect.

No etiquette

What you see is what you get

Dressed in burlesque

While I'm hiding from the sun

(Mannequin Factory, by Porcelain Black)

With a shoulder shimmy, they all arched their bodies forwards, dipping down low, generously showing off for all to see the exposed mounds of their cleavage from within their corset cages, before standing up straight again, swirling their hips as they stepped away from the front edge of the stage and fell back in line.

Seven inch heels stomping down hard as one thundering sound, overpowering the music's beats themselves for the fraction of a moment, all six dolls then dropped down at the same time, mid-graceful, mid-sudden, sitting for a moment as they stroked a leg they held out up, horizontally so to the ground.

Using the smoothness of the shiny, tiled dance floor to slide and glide, a swift mermaid roll later, the dolls showed off their other leg - but for this one, they held high up above, vertically, forming a perfect L-shape with their lower limbs.

A series of shoulder rolls later, the dolls were back on their feet, swift and nimble as they twisted their bodies with such amazing fluidity, all while jiggling their most noteworthy assets around.

Whipping their hair with vivid twirls of their heads, it was a wonder how they managed not to suffer any whiplashes, as they tossed and threw up their hair with dramatic flips or sudden jerks.

After a rather sashaying, seductive catwalk, the dolls smirked at the crowd, their expressions erotic, a peek of tongue languidly tracing lip as they crouched down on their heels, invitingly spreading their legs wide, shamelessly hiding nothing, the imagery portrayed here crystal clear.

They slowly rose to stand again, before flipping around and immediately bending over instead, indecently presenting the audience their rumps, which they then proceeded to jingle and twerk around provocatively. That earned a couple of whistles and hoots amidst the otherwise quiet and enraptured crowd.

All six eventually stood straight once more, clapping the doll besides them on their bottoms, before giving a cheeky grab and pulling away, but not without letting their fingers linger and trace the path of their departure.

Taunting and tantalizing, the six dolls vivaciously dominated the stage. It was theirs. Entirely. To be honest, even though they were flaunting it and putting on an enticing show for all to see, it felt as if they were the sole souls alive within an otherwise spellbound and dead silent room.

As the performance ended with a flourished finish from the dolls, and applause rose to eulogize them, the entire room's eyes upon the stage showcasing proudly the now six bowing dolls. But Ichigo, Byakuya and Grimmjow were not amid the avid onlookers, having long looked away...

The noble had been the first, fairly horrified, then it had been the feline, out of sheer boredom. The teen had been the last one, oddly, but more so since he had been too stunned to react prior.

"Hey. Aizen's calling."

Ichigo and Byakuya looked over to see that, indeed, the Child of Chaos was staring their way, hand casually coming back to rest to his side, surely after having beckoned Grimmjow to him.

They quickly, but reluctantly, followed the blue-haired male's lead, as all three walked amongst stares and whispers until they eventually reached the immortal's side.

There he sat, like the Devil himself, a fallen angel in pristine white formal wear, a stark contrast to the sombre colours around him. A Devil, yet still eerily handsome enough to take breaths away and make hearts stutter, or shatter. Pure, primal perversion was what he was. Power. Lust.

"Welcome," greeted Aizen smoothly, an already present sly smirk widening at the trio's tense features, before gesturing to the empty space of the large canapé he lounged upon "Take a seat."

When neither the noble nor the feline made a move, the teen realized that the immortal had been talking to him only, leading Ichigo to gulp. The last thing he wanted was to be close to Aizen.

Besides, the Child of Chaos was being unfair again. Was he expecting Grimmjow and Byakuya to just stand there? Nope. Ichigo wasn't going to do that. He would have no part of whatever this game was. However, his initial intent to rebelliously ignore the other's order was quickly squandered, by the immortal arching an eyebrow. That was it all it took for him to reconsider. To remember. This was not someone to defy or disobey. Not with the control he had over them.

Repressing a shudder, Ichigo hurriedly sat himself beside Aizen, uncomfortable and nervous, wanting to be anywhere but here. And sincerely hoping that the immortal would not think to-

Although he was looking straight ahead, the distressed teenager went completely rigid as Aizen leaned into his personal space, close, too close, but not touching, as he drawled out with lethal sweetness: "So, what did you think?"

'Please, don't touch me. Please, don't touch me-'

With a mind reeling with dread and his entire being shaking, Ichigo nearly couldn't say a word: "O- Of?"

To be entirely honest, the teen knew his utterance for clarification was redundant. It was plainly obvious what the immortal was asking. But to be fair, he had no opinion to make or share. While Grimmjow had remained solemn and Byakuya silently scandalized, Ichigo honestly was far too shocked for any words, horrified over the fact that that, was also required in this place. To get up on stage and almost, dare he say it, flaunt and auction oneself in front of the crowd. Just how much of...objects were they supposed to become?

With Ichigo gone absolutely mute, it was Grimmjow who spoke up all of a sudden, tone bored: "Just fuckin' tell me that we three won't EVER have to do...any of that. I can guarantee you, I'll fuckin' suck at it."

"Surely, if you have two left feet," snorted Jugo, with an ostentatious flip of his hair, while the other two Twilights wore derisive grins, as all three of them stood behind the immortal dutifully.

Though Ichigo and Byakuya both tensed at their presence, Grimmjow completely ignored the Twilights in favour of hearing the immortal's reply: "This particular routine isn't a requirement, no. Individuals tend to be...rather visual creatures. Put a powerfully charged scene, bleeding eroticism, out before them, and most will be utterly powerless to let their attention wander. Besides, this is something most of the dolls enjoy doing. I am simply being kind and indulging."

The former Arrancar blinked. ...The dolls enjoyed doing this? If Grimmjow didn't know better, he would believe Aizen had just uttered a lie. But...how could they like doing such a thing? What was the immortal holding against these dolls for them to willingly indulge and participate in such licentious debauchery? Not that he cared. But he was concerned. Because if the dolls went so far as to 'normalize' their lives here, what did this mean for himself and the other two?

"I know what you're thinking, but this place has always been legal, my dear."

Grimmjow startled out of his thoughts, only to realize that the immortal wasn't talking to him. Or even Ichigo this time.

"This place is immoral. There is nothing legal about it," seethed the Kuchiki noble in quiet, icy ire "I sincerely cannot believe all these people here are so utterly acceptant of such...depravity."

"Please tell me you're joking," scoffed Jugo patronizingly, earning a dark glare from Byakuya to which he smirked at broadly "The patrons have a place where they can carry out their darkest desires and you think they'll find something wrong with it? Tch. You're so naïve. Poor thing."

"And nobody outside of this place wonders what's going on?" asked Ichigo with a disturbed frown, still sitting awfully rigid "Doesn't, I don't know, the police ever interfere or something?"

At that, the Twilights barked out in scathing laughter and Aizen smirked wide, clearly amused, leading the teen to redden. What? What did he say? Wasn't that a sane and logical question? They clearly didn't seem to think so...

In the end, it was Leona, arriving right then with a tray of drinks she held out for the taking, who gently replied: "Not really. Débauche has some kind of subtle, but very strong, 'look the other way' vibe. No one dares to try. And those who do, generally don't exist long to do much."

Ichigo had to admit that sounded much too foreboding for his liking: "What...happens to them?"

She had held the teen's distressed eyes for a brief instant, before she glanced away, distracted: "Depends. They either go mad, or disappear. Don't know what goes down after. Excuse me."

Leona hastily left then, possibly due to nearby a few patrons ushering her to them for drinks, but something suggested to Grimmjow it was due to something else entirely. He had not missed Aizen brushing her hand as he reached for the tray, timing his movement with the question. Sly.

"Intrigued?" drawled out the immortal, twirling his drink and bringing it to his quirked up lips.

His former Espada narrowed his eyes and met cool dark brown dead on: "If they go nuts, it's 'cause you've used your zanpaktou on them, right? Give them hallucinations, or something, to drive them crazy. That does fuckin' sound like something you'd do."

The Child of Chaos didn't even bother to deny it, dark gaze glittering ominous: "Smart kitten."

"And if they fuckin' disappear," uttered Grimmjow then, teeth clenched tight with cold anger, whilst horrid realization dawned upon the features of Byakuya and Ichigo at the implications. Surely not.

"Oh, I wouldn't know. Maybe it's because, for some reason, they turned Hollow, or the like," stated Aizen casually, confirming the trio's suspicions, leading them to either glare or shudder.

"...You're insane," breathed the Kuchiki noble, shivers crawling down his spine at how utterly untouchable the immortal seemed to be. Was there no one and nothing in the world to stop him?

The Twilights instantly bristled, but the immortal merely chuckled, unfazed: "Unquestionably. I however have my reasons to keep this place safe. Spotless. From any and all prying vermin."

"It's a source of power, for you," said Ichigo, echoing what Aizen himself had once told them.

But the other's smile was ice then, amusement no longer present: "Amidst other reasons, yes."

The tone and expression Aizen had when he had said that surprised both Ichigo and Grimmjow, but Byakuya was far too disconcerted to notice: "What other reasons could you possibly have?"

Music started again without any warning, putting a stopper on any reply to be had, and drawing everyone's attention to the curtains slowly being drawn open to reveal the next performance...

Ichigo and the other two instantly picked up on how very different the tune was from the one before. Rather than blaring and boisterous, it held more melody, a tad of melancholy even(4).

And this time, all alone upon a completely empty stage, Doll was up, defying gravity entirely as she floated mid-air, above the platform beneath her, like she was laying on an invisible bed.

As the slow music's cadence took a sudden shift in tempo, her eyes of burning magenta snapped open, as if suddenly coming to life, before she stood and spun upwards, like a flying ballerina.

The crowd emitted sounds of absolute amazement and awe, marvelling at every twirl and trick Doll performed for them to see. And she, light as a feather, magical and graceful with every movement, danced high up above on tip toe, her entire being moving with a purposeful clarity.

Look here, she comes now
Bow down and stare in wonder

(Everybody's Fool, by Evanescence)

Watching wide-eyed, Ichigo was amazed but befuddled. Was she flying, like for real? Floating? Were there wires? How on earth was she doing this? Nevertheless, it was rather mesmerizing. He actually caught Grimmjow, Byakuya and even Aizen of all people, watching her on, riveted.

And Doll danced on, with elegance and fluidity, she too matching the music playing for her act, as she moved on perfect par with the choice of melancholic, morose tunes following her spins.

And for some reason, it was absolutely evident to Ichigo, for a reason he could not understand, that while the dolls before followed the music, the music at the moment was following Doll. It was such an odd thing to notice, but now that it had struck him, he couldn't get rid of the notion.

Something else stood out to him then, as if the longer he looked, the more he'd note oddities. While she moved around, performing summersaults and acrobatics he doubted were easy to do, she never ventured beyond what he later realized to be glass panels, forming a box around her. This actually confused him even further. Was this why she was able to fly with such freedom? Was it some zero gravity chamber or something? ...Did such a thing even exist to begin with?

It was only when Doll's lips parted and bubbles of air escaped passed them, that it clicked to the teenager that she was actually underwater.

The glass walls were not simply just for show, but in fact a tank, containing water. A water so pure and crystal clear, it was like there was no water at all, and that Doll was flying high instead.

With this newfound, startling realization, the entire charm and beauty of this magical display abruptly transformed into something tremendously suffocating for Ichigo, and he found himself unable to stand the growing tightness in his chest as he watched on. He wanted to look away, suddenly needed to, but he had this feeling that if he did, something bad was going to happen. And he couldn't for the life of him shrug off this morbid yet relentless sensation clawing at him.

There was another shift in the beat that Ichigo completely missed in his distressing realization. The music had upped the ante and had become more dramatic, more intense, more desperate. And so had Doll. Still with incredible grace, she was struggling, staggering, flying and falling, failing, trying to go higher, trying to reach the surface... But it was so out of reach, so far away. An impossible reality.

Suddenly, water, which he would havealways considered as a vital substance for surviving, had turned into a cage, hindering her desire to fly high, to soar to the skies and heavens above.

She blew out air then, giant bubbles, forming a single form that made its way to the surface, slow and steady, like she had she just breathed her life out into the world above her. A world she would not, could never be a part of. Because while the air touched the surface, she didn't...

Instead, with wisps of hair caressing her face, she allowed herself to tilt backwards, slow-falling as she sank down, lower, swallowed, engulfed by crystal waters. Till she hit the bottom of the glass tank, with an audible thud, a clank that the music, which had ended just seconds too early, could not silence.

It was haunting. Even more haunting, at least to the disturbed teenager, was that Doll - still, just like an actual doll - had chosen to leave her eyes wide open. And looking him right in the eye.

And Ichigo - barely recalling in that instant that they as dolls lacked a human's daily functions, so he was able to remember that Doll didn't just die - just wanted to run away, run far away, from the utter feeling of sheer helplessness that this scene had conjured up from deep within him. It was like he had just witnessed someone - an actual person, not some doll playing a part - struggle, fight, battle, give everything they had, only to be overwhelmed in the end, with no way out, no escape, no salvation, no freedom, no chances. So they can only let go. And drown.

"Kid?"

Ichigo jumped out of his skin, snapping his gaze up right into Grimmjow's wide worried eyes.

It was then that the teen noticed that the feline Arrancar wasn't the only one looking his way. He then realized why. His breathing. It was so loud he could barely hear anything else, not the world around him or even his own thoughts.

This went unnoticed to anyone else, as they audience round them, riveted on what they had just had the privilege of watching, had all gotten to their feet, clapping away and singing praises, louder than they had for Meni and the others. None of them had been able to look away, awed.

While the show before had been all erotic and racy, sexualized and suggestive, this had been an utterly dazzling spectacle, a silent movie, short, to the point. One that had Ichigo...traumatized.

"I- I, uh-"

Grimmjow tensed, eyes wide. The teen, hyperventilating and pale as a sheet, looked like he was seconds away from passing out. This was bad. People was starting to stare. Curious. Intrigued. Riveted. The feline's jaw clenched, teeth gnashing violently, a vein throbbing on his forehead. As if the kid didn't have enough focus on him as is. Screw that. But the heck could he do here?

'Aizen's fuckin' watching, damn it,' he mentally noted as he promptly shifted, making sure he was standing between any onlookers and the kid himself, before focusing entirely on Ichigo "Hey, kid. You hear me? Listen, you really fucking should-"

Reacting to Grimmjow's voice, Ichigo blinked up owlishly, trying to focus on the other male, only to witness the former Espada gently reaching out to touch his face. With bare, naked hands.

The teen blanched further, going rigid. Flashes of Byakuya's memories becoming his, which he had no right to own or know, dark feelings from the dolls and patrons alike tainting his soul with sensations he was not supposed to feel, all of that surged up to his throat in one go. Stifling. Suffocating. DROWNING.

No. NoNoNoNONONO- Ichigo turned and ran, leaving behind a very confused feline Arrancar, an intrigued Child of Chaos, and an awfully quiet Kuchiki noble, who hastily lowered his gaze.

He didn't wish to assume, but Byakuya had an inkling as to what had the teenager so distraught. But the Arrancar didn't know. Not yet.

He had respectfully kept very quiet about the matter as a whole, not wanting to grass on the other, both out of consideration towards Ichigo and because Byakuya himself was involved, deeply in fact. The young man knew now, and that was too much already for the noble to bear.

Even so, he was neither a fool nor was he facetious. He knew, had seen with his own two eyes that Grimmjow had some sort of effect upon the young human, albeit an odd, unbelievable one - and he did not say this maliciously, more so since he had yet to fully grasp what it entailed...

At those thoughts, he carefully reached out and tugged at a corner of Grimmjow's jacket, in order to get the other's attention. Once he had it, Byakuya directed him away to the side a bit, out of earshot, ready to share the teen's newfound, horrific 'power': "None of this is your fault. The truth is-"

"Ah, FUCK NO! We missed Doll's act! Damn you, boys. Next time, I WON'T wait for you!"

Grimmjow and Byakuya snapped to the curt commotion started at the entrance of the room, only to see an irked woman socket one of her three companions, right in the face, as the other guffawed boorishly and the last one hid his face with a hand, clearly mortified by their antics.

The feline and noble simply stared with narrowed eyes, utterly unimpressed, as they cautiously took in the rather bizarre group that had entered making a scene. A young, lanky woman with a very boy-ish goth air, a man of hulking mass and muscle in a suit, a well-built young man with punk-ish looks, and a lean, elegant young man in casual wear, all of them with the same auburn enough, a shade of hair of an eerily similar to Aizen's. If one paid attention.

Of the quartet, the latter male was familiar to Byakuya and by extension Grimmjow since the patron in question seemed to be fond of the noble, often asking for the Kuchiki's time, generally for a chat or two, but thankfully never more than that. Much to Byakuya's relief and respite. The other three were unfamiliar however, but there was something about them, all four of them, which made them both wary. Very wary.

"Panthera and Zakura," spoke up the immortal, prompting the attention of the aforementioned two to shift towards him, before Grimmjow and Byakuya froze, stunned by Aizen's expression.

There was no accurate manner to describe it, but the closest one would be to suggest that Aizen appeared like he was contemplating either brutal murder, or running for the hills and far away. The perfect middle between fight, flight, and being unable to choose either. Never mind how eerie it was to actually get to see a semblance of dread on Aizen's dark and dangerous features.

Ignoring the noble and feline's baffled expressions, the Child of Chaos pressed on, his tone cold but sombre, and dead serious: "No matter what, do NOT accept a single thing those four attempt to offer you - be sure to inform Shujinkou also, as soon as you get the chance to. Understood?"

Whereas the Kuchiki nodded stiffly, not really daring to aggravate whatever had Aizen in the state he was in, the feline was tempted to reply with a flippant 'fuck you', for the heck of it. But he knew better. This was serious. Quite serious, in fact. Maybe even worrying. Scratch that. This was unnerving.

Aizen, of all people, the one who so effortlessly instilled fear, horror, pain and suffering, who could break and conquer, who now ruled over two whole worlds and this place, was concerned? ...AIZEN? The mere notion that there was someone who could draw out such an emotion from Aizen was absolutely terrifying, as it was intriguing. Because who could the immortal fear so?

The former Espada's first thought was that the enemy of his enemy could be a potential ally. Because at this point, he was looking for an escape as well as salvation, if only for Ichigo alone, wherever he could get it.

But as Grimmjow glanced back at the advancing group of four, languid yet arrogant in their step, like they were some species of gods amidst dirt, the feline only noticed now that the crowd of seated patrons - now relatively silent or whispering in hushed tones - had averted their gazes. All of them. But it didn't seem to be out of disinterest or distaste. They wouldn't be this ashen if it was either...

And that was when Grimmjow realized, as well as decided, that he best off not taking the risk. He had a gut feeling the price to pay was too high. One he wouldn't be able to pay by himself.

No sooner had the group reached where Aizen was seated, the one they knew wasted no time addressing Byakuya, a soft, smooth smile to his lips as he gently touched the noble's hair: "Hello again, Zakura."

"Le Vaar-sama(5)," greeted Byakuya quietly, his gaze kept lowered as he inclined his head, softly uttering rehearsed words he put absolutely no emotion into "Welcome back to Débauche. I sincerely hope you'll enjoy your stay tonight just as well."

"Thank you, dear. May I?"

Reluctant but not really having a choice, not with all the eyes on him, the Kuchiki carefully took the hand held out to him, before Shukuro Le Vaar(5) - a young man with wavy, shoulder-length hair, pale skin, and a long thin scar running down vertically over the side of his left eye - led him away for a chat.

Frowning faintly, Grimmjow watched them leave, not sure what to make of the unease settling within his gut at the sight, when his thoughts were caught short then as he was carelessly shoved to the side.

Holding back a growl and glare, he narrowed his gaze at the female grinning down at Aizen: "Oh, good evening, Suzuki-san. Didn't see you there."

Rather than be courteous as the immortal generally was with the patrons, the feline Arrancar was very surprised to see Aizen looking absolutely livid despite his frigid smile: "Le Vaar-san. How nice of you to visit."

"Heh. And you totally mean it too," she smirked scathingly, eyes gleaming with something vile "And please, it's Berenice, cher - acting like we're strangers, come ON now. Is this seat taken?"

"Yes. By an extension of my presence. Kindly go sit elsewhere. Preferably far away from me."

Aizen's frosty ire would have been relatively amusing, if anybody was paying attention to it. But it certainly seemed to amuse the young woman however, as she let out an obnoxious, cackle as she totally ignored the other's words and sat right upon the armrest of his seat, looking down at him as she jutted her chin and grinned: "Fuuuuuuuuuuuck. You really don't forgive, do you?"

He glanced up at her with a rather blank expression, before flashing her a sudden 'charming' smile that did not match his glacial, dry tone: "I don't believe I do, no."

Barely listening, Grimmjow was currently keeping a close eye on Ichigo who, after having run off to a corner to catch his breath, had been approached by one of the odd quartet - the one punk-ish looks. Something awfully virulent bubbled up within the former Espada as he watched the patron crouch down by the teen's side and wrapped an arm, too closely, around Ichigo, seemingly in an attempt to comfort the latter. And Grimmjow just hated that. Plain and simple. He didn't even need an explanation or reason. All he knew was that he did not want it occurring.

Deciding that whatever conversation the Child of Chaos was having with this strange woman didn't concern him, the feline Arrancar was ready to storm off to Ichigo's side, even considering a punch or two. Until Berenice Le Vaar's next sentence earned Grimmjow's entire attention, halting him right where he stood.

"Oh, come on, Aizen man. Remember we got common interests. We should just get along, no?"

Eyes widening a slight as complete bafflement flitted upon his features, the blue-haired blinked. Just now, this woman had just addressed him as 'Aizen', hadn't she? AIZEN, and not "Suzuki", unlike everyone else did, patrons and dolls alike, within the walls of this forsaken, rotten place.

Turning his face just barely back towards where they were seated, yet attempting to be discreet, Grimmjow observed her a bit more closely. Nothing about her was out of the ordinary really, other than her eccentric style and that eerie shine in her eye.

So he didn't know why, nor could he begin to explain it, but he had a very distinct expression that this woman along with her three companions, Aizen himself, and even Doll, were all cut from the same cloth. An odd thought, but Grimmjow couldn't for the life of him shrug it away.

"Regrettably," drawled out Aizen then with an exaggerated sigh "Fear not. I haven't forgotten."

"Oh, good. Because I thought you had."

By this point however, Grimmjow had walked away, deciding Ichigo was far more important. The feline would simply delve a bit deeper into whatever this could possibly some other time. And he had many questions on the matter - within good reason too, since it was as disconcerting as everything else happening in this wretched place.

Berenice just idly watched the former Espada leave all while she continued her conversation: "We wouldn't want anything bad to happen after all, now would we?"

Dark brown eyes narrowed at her, a red sinister hue flashing in them for the fraction of a second: "Could it be that you're threatening me, dear?"

A wide smirk spread across her lips, Berenice drew a small dagger then, from within her jacket, twirling it expertly before dragging her tongue upon the blade, an eyebrow raising in a taunting, provocative manner: "Well, maybe I am. I mean, why not, hm?"

The Twilights, who had not left their master's side, tensed, as if readying to intervene, but Aizen merely raised a hand, signalling them to stay out of it, so they stayed put, watching nervously.

"Be it as it may," uttered the immortal evenly, blatantly ignoring her show to intimidate him, which only served to aggravate her further "That doesn't mean that I am obliged to be agreeable. To you, or any of your brothers for that matter."

Gnashing her teeth together in irritation, Berenice still managed to keep her wide smile: "Whoa, scary. Out of curiosity, who do you hate the least? Me, Tsu, Driscoll, Ginjou or Askin-nii(5)?"

"Rather I can tell you who I hate the most. And apparently, you did not bring him with you. Thank goodness. Probably the smartest thing a cretin like you could have ever done, really."

The dagger came down like lightning and wedged its tip into the armrest, just a shy away from his hand, leading the Twilights to blanch, while her crazed eyes had narrowed thinly into slits, as she bared her teeth and hissed: "Bastard. And he's the one you owe the most on top of that."

"And yet I truly, sincerely despise him more than any of you. Funny how the life works, hm?"

"How dare you? With all he's done for you?" pointed out Berenice angrily, before standing up stiffly, crossing her arms and clenching her jaw "I'm offended on SO many levels right now."

"Oh my, isn't that tragic?" he mocked with little feeling, yet fully relished in her burning fury "Kindly bear in mind, all I did was answer your question."

Muttering under her breath for a minute or two, the young woman then tilted her head curiously: "...So, when did you get back? I've been here a couple of times. Don't remember seeing you."

While the Twilights gaped, rather unsettled by her erratic, lethal mood swings, Aizen seemed to stiffen, faint traces of lividness etched within his voice: "Recently. I didn't want to be seen, as I was fairly occupied."

The immortal then directed a cold, dark, angry glare up her way: "And so were you, obviously."

"Oops, busted," she grinned wide, not even bothering to sound or seem rueful "Aw. You mad at me, honey? Be real. How could I possibly resist Doll? Don't worry. It was all consensual-"

"Carry on talking, Tsukuyomi," cut off Aizen with a low tone of sinister and ominous darkness, a gleam in his eyes that carried weight and promised pain "And I just might lose my patience."

Berenice's smug, scathing attitude faltered there and then at the same time as her smile dropped, and she couldn't hold back a series of shivers. She wasn't afraid, no. Maybe a tad intimidated. And bewildered, unable to understand why a mere human would mean so much to a lower god.

To be honest, she never understood why they had to treat Aizen as an equal. Though their older brother had been very clear on the matter. That they should, if only for the sake of appearances. Because Sosuke Aizen was a force to be reckoned with, a rather dangerous one. A threat. One they'd be better off having on their side than against them. This man capable of the impossible.

Frankly, she couldn't care less about what this guy accomplished or could do, antagonizing him just for thrills. But her brother was rarely wrong. Perhaps she should start listening, just in case.

Whilst Aizen's gaze narrowed as Berenice suddenly engulfed him in a hug, the Twilights went rigid, all too wary of this woman's unpredictability, not to mention weaponry on her person. But the embrace was void of any ill or even kind intent, only acted out to allow her to whisper directly against his ear: "Well, this just won't do. Making me feel like I ought to apologize. Maybe I should though. We wouldn't want a Child of Lust going berserk, now would we, hm?"

"How genuinely thoughtful for a Child of Greed to show a sliver of restraint," retorted Aizen with an empty grin, right as her expression darkened, her eyes gleaming an eerie golden yellow.

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Now that the second act of the night was over and done with, right before the last and final one, the dolls and audience alike had a quarter-hour break, refreshments and a large buffet at the patrons' disposal, whereas the dolls mingled amongst them, entertaining them to their pleasure with small talk, juicy gossip, scandalous topics, lewd conversations, and salacious promises...

And that was exactly the situation Ichigo unwillingly, very much reluctantly, found himself in currently, rooted where he stood, nodding and smiling - numbly, but smiling the best he could - as one patron in particular made himself all exclusive to the teen, dead set on chatting him up.

Still rattled and quite jarred, due to the earlier vivid reaction he had had to Doll's entrancing, but eerie performance, he had dashed off towards the exit, in hopes of gathering his bearings in the room he shared with Grimmjow and Byakuya. He would have preferred getting away from this vile atmosphere entirely, preferably even out of Débauche itself as a whole, but Jugo curtly cut him off mid-sprint towards the doors, and dragged him to the furthest corner of the room. Ichigo had half-expected being reprimanded then, and hear things like 'blah, blah, we're dolls, blah-blah, do as you're told, blah-blah', and all that. But some reason, the teenager hadn't been. Now, he had no clue if Jugo deemed it pointless in that moment, or if it was because he had been quivering like a leaf, and that wasn't a single drop of blood left in his face, pale as he was.

"Stay here," had finally said the blond Twilight, tone strangely soft, despite his harsh features "Shake it off, Hero-chii. Quickly. Night's too young to quit on it yet."

Still much too in shock to register then, thinking back upon it, Ichigo could swear that had been some form of subtle sympathy. But given that these were the Twilights, Jugo more specifically, we were talking about, the teenager somehow really doubted that, deciding he had imagined it.

And so he had stayed there, crouched in the corner, trying to catch his breath and clear his mind, when all of a sudden an arm settled over his shoulders and drew him against a warm, firm chest. Assuming it was Grimmjow, the teenager's tense frame lessened a slight, but when he looked over his shoulder, it wasn't the blue-haired he saw, but a patron instead, smiling down at him: "You okay there?"

The teen jolted up into a rigid stance, slowly pulling away as he gave the other a wobbly smile: "Ah. I, uh... Um. Yeah. Yeah, yeah, I am. Thanks."

"You sure?"

Ichigo nodded fast, at the one who had come to comfort him, a patron who introduced himself as Ginjou Le Vaar (5), and took it upon himself to chat - and cheer - up the teen.

But while the gesture was mildly appreciated, the teenager wasn't listening, and didn't hear a word. If he had any choice in the matter, he would have run off to hide in his room or something. He did not want to be here. He really, really didn't want to be here.

How Grimmjow and Byakuya had been dealing this for the past week now was beyond him. Ichigo paused then, a slight frown to his tired features, as resolve shone bright within his eyes. If they could do it, endure, hold on, so should he...

But the other's proximity, not mention that he was a bit hands-y, was becoming unnerving. Now he understood Byakuya - Ichigo's skin was crawling. And the other hadn't even touched it yet.

"Am I making you uneasy?"

The teen's widened eyes snapped up towards the patron regarding him with a frown of concern. Was he for real? Ichigo found patrons didn't care about the dolls' well-being or their comfort. And yet...

Ginjou let go of the Shinigami Substitute then, taking a small step back with a rueful expression: "Damn it, I'm sorry, really. Is there anything I can do to apologize? To make you feel better?"

Ichigo could only stare, actually taking the time to consider the other. The patron, Ginjou, was rather tall and lean, but fairly well-built, had fair skin, dark shoulder-length hair combed and slicked backwards, and dark eyes. There was...something about him, maybe his casual wear, or the fact that he was actually paying attention to his discomfort, but Ichigo felt a bit...reassured? That was pretty irrational for his first time meeting the guy, no? Yet, he couldn't shake it off. A corner of his mind was warning him however, but he was too exhausted to hear it right now.

"Is there anything I can do to apologize? To make you feel better?"

Ichigo bit down on his lip fast to keep it from trembling. Could he ask? Would this man help? Help them, all three of them, leave? Were his instincts accurate here? Or was this desperation?

As if sensing his inner struggle, the patron smiled gently and reached out cup the teen's cheek. But he never made contact.

"First and final warning. Back the FUCK off."

Looking like some feline fiercely coming to the defence of its cub, Grimmjow came to stand between them, feral hiss shifting into a low, dangerous growl, bright blue eyes wilder than ever.

"Whoa. Easy there, tiger," grinned Ginjou with his hands held up in a placating manner, while his eyes squinted and then darted between the two of them, as if trying to discern or determine whatever their relationship could be. Well, best of luck to him. Even Ichigo himself had no clue.

But rather, was Grimmjow doing alright? The former Arrancar had been pretty on edge lately. Why though? Ichigo frowned a bit. He would have to remember asking the feline about it later.

"Later, pumpkin," offered the patron with a smile as he took a step back before walking away, upon seeing he had apparently overstayed his welcome.

The former Espada simply snarled at that. Helping Doll and being around her had had its perks, so Grimmjow was now aware of...a few things - he had bumped into moments prior and asked. Hearing from Aizen first-hand was also 'helpful', the previous warning ringing loudly within his mind. All in all, one thing for certain, and that being that this guy was extremely bad news...

The blue-haired male's musings were cut short when Ichigo punched his arm half-heartedly: "What's the matter with you?! We can't talk to the patrons like that! Do you want Aizen t-?!"

"...Pumpkin?" teased Grimmjow with a wide grin, really not wanting to argue on the obvious, and simply latched on to the first thing he could.

"Uh, yeah, I- Um," mumbled Ichigo with an embarrassed scowl as he hurriedly looked away, before trailing off as he found himself staring in the direction the patron had left in "That aside, I'm kinda okay with him, I guess. Just a little. At least compared to others. He feels...different."

That, had Grimmjow baring his teeth, evidently disagreeing, if not downright disapproving: "Careful, kid. These patrons are not fuckin' saints. Very, very, very rare are the ones who are. All of them have fuckin' sadistic tastes, and demanding, demeaning expectations. Remember where we are. And who fuckin' runs this place. Never forget. Don't trust any of them. EVER."

Brown eyes shining, features more or less blank, the teen openly stared at the feline then, but the latter couldn't tell it was out of sudden realization, resignation... Or something else entirely.

"...I haven't forgotten. Don't worry."

"I worry. There are monsters here fuckin' worse than me. And hell, I am pretty fuckin' bad-"

Ichigo's narrowed then, his tone thick with displeasure and seriousness as he cut off Grimmjow before he could say further: "You're not a monster, Grimmjow. Really. Please do me a favour and stop calling yourself that. Please? If not for yourself, at least for me."

With the teen currently pouting, the corner of Grimmjow's eye twitched, though he was half-inclined to just concede to the teenager's wishes. But it wasn't that simple. Nothing ever was.

"I'm simply using the correct bloody lingo here, that's all. A Hollow is a fuckin' monster, kid," drawled out the feline, even going so far as to menacingly bare his teeth again to make his point "Monsters don't feel. They don't care. They do not fucking love. All they know, is destruction."

Both Ichigo and Grimmjow looked surprised then, by the harshness of those words slipping out - to the feline, it sounded like he was trying convince himself of...something? As for the teen...

Unfazed as he tilted his head, Ichigo's gaze strayed towards the other male's bare chest then, pointedly looking at where the Hollow's hole was no more: "But you're not a Hollow anymore, are you?"

And here, the feline didn't reply, truly not knowing what to say now, entirely at loss for words.

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Having changed outfits after her aquatic performance, Doll was presently back within the room, a drink in hand as she stood to the side, sipping at it idly as her large magenta eyes, half-closed, idly observed a crowd of blurred and oh-so boring faces.

How bored she was. So bored. Dangerously so even. Oh, and angry too. Not like that was new. Her irritation levels were high, until her gaze fell upon Grimmjow and Ichigo who were seated, close, talking to each other. She observed them with rapt attention, them as well as the proximity that was already present between them. Honestly, at this point, she didn't fathom what more she ought to do here. Apart from making what they had happen faster maybe? But love couldn't be rushed. It never worked whenever it occurred in the blink of an eye. And she would know...

Letting out a soft sigh, Doll looked away, magenta eyes stumbling upon someone that made her eye twitch and frown deep with dislike. Now he would definitely hinder things, most definitely. He was too involved, too meddlesome, in the way, and keeping those two's slow growing bonds from blossoming. He needed to be taken out of their equation, decided Doll. Deleted. Quickly.

A smile twisted her blood red lips then, eyes gleaming in an unnatural fashion. She had an idea. And it was not of the good kind...

In the distance from where he was standing, Byakuya too regarded Ichigo and Grimmjow's closeness, not really paying attention to the patron he was currently with, and supposed to be attending to. It wasn't like he could help it however. Those two genuinely, truly intrigued him. Them and whatever it was they had. Which...was what exactly?

The noble tilted his head a slight, unable to look away as the former Arrancar said, whispered something which near instantly brought a smile, then a laugh to the Shinigami Substitute's lips.

Byakuya suppressed a sigh. How enviable. Everything within him then came to screaming halt, eyes going wide with a shine of aghast horror. Enviable? Had he really just thought that? Him? The noble was repulsed by himself, as well as a slight mortified. He was developing an out-of-character sentimentality. And he wasn't sure what to do with it. Nor if he enjoyed the idea of possessing it in the first place. Perhaps he ought to get rid of it, just to be sure. Just to be safe...

"You're looking absolutely lovely tonight, Zakura."

Eyes fluttering lightly, Byakuya finally focused on the man seated by his side, looking at him without really seeing him: "Thank you, kindly. You are quite dashing yourself, Le Vaar-sama."

He had made sure his voice was soft-spoken and as sweet as possible when he said those words, but all the time his mind hissed: 'Lie. Lie as you breathe. Lie, and never mean a word you say.'

"You're just saying that, aren't you?"

"...A-Am I? And why would you assume I would be?"

The patron, Shukuro, let out a little laugh: "Isn't this what you're meant to do? Put up an act?"

Despite the patron's joking tone, the Kuchiki felt as though someone had just punched him in the stomach, robbing him of air and leading him to swallow against the vice grip upon his throat. Was he that obvious? How? All the training, the shame, the humiliation, the horror, for naught?

A touch to his hair broke Byakuya away from his emotional crisis, and then he found himself locking eyes with Shukuro's gaze as the latter peered in forwards, voice and expression gentle: "You know, darling, I'm not as shallow as all of them others, I promise. I care for you, really. And I can look after you, if you wish me too."

'Liar. You all say this,' murmured Byakuya's mind, whilst the noble quietly but coolly replied "You are just saying that, aren't you?"

Shukuro smiled, amused, but his tone did not waver: "You don't deserve to be here, I swear. And I'm not just saying this. Let me help you. May I?"

The 6th Division's Captain seemed to freeze over, not even blinking as he pondered carefully the other's delectably enticing offer. What this man was suggesting... Could he? Like actually? Did this person have the power to get him out of this nightmare, this hell? A part of Byakuya sincerely wanted to accept. But Aizen's warning held him back tight. As well as a small rational side of his mind, pointing out that a human couldn't possibly go up against an immortal tyrant...

"...May I refuse?"

The other looked fairly surprised, as though he hadn't been expecting such a reply from him. But he recovered rather quickly, features softening further instead: "Of course, you can, dear, of course. Please know the offer stands still, should you EVER change your mind. I'll be here. For you."

Byakuya didn't, couldn't reply, mutely watching as the other gently took a hold of his hand and raised it high to place a kiss to it, before standing up in one smooth, fluid and graceful motion: "I wish you good luck, dear, for this night and every other night to come. Take care of yourself."

Shukuro left then, becoming one with the crowd of patrons, while the Kuchiki noble's tension elevated a notch further, feeling his blood run cold. Because now that the least disturbing patron here he knew of was gone, he was left along amidst a sea of sharks, all as worse as the next one.

Averting his gaze before anyone could make eye contact with him, and took that as permission, the noble stiffly stood up from his seat and made a beeline to the other side of the large room, over to the bar table. Byakuya never really was one for liquor to be honest. Although right now, he would give anything to be dead drunk. Dead numb.

"What can I get you, hon?" asked the bartender popping up as he reached it, making him pause as he considered her question.

"I- I have no preferences, really," he eventually uttered, tucking stray hair behind his ear as he took a new seat before he nodded towards her instead "Whatever you wish."

The bartender, a young African American human woman - the only living human present within this establishment, who went by the name Jackie - nodded as she went and prepared him a drink. Some concoction of a rich golden, brown liquor which she then set upon the bar and slid over to him, eyebrow raised a slight as she drawled out: "...You do know it ain't gonna help, right?"

"I am aware, yes," whispered Byakuya as he gently took the drink and peered into it curiously "What is this?"

"Bourbon."

Intrigued, the dark-haired male dipped his head a slight to draw in a waft of its sweet aroma. There were strong notes of vanilla, oak, wheat, caramel and a dash of citrus. Delightful really...

But as he took a sip, it tasted so terribly flavourless, plain, dull, bland, blander than water even. It was like he was sampling a drink made out of plastic...

Jackie gave him a small, sympathetic smile then at his completely baffled expression, before considerately giving him space after letting him know to just call for her if he needed another. The Kuchiki noble doubted that however. He could well without the horrifying realization that he really could no longer taste a single thing he drank or ate. This was horrible. Unspeakable. Inconceivable.

A pat on his shoulder made him look over his shoulder, only to find Doll smiling down at him with a frozen and frigid expression. She was dressed in white, a contrast to her flaming magenta for hair, like she an angel with devil hair. He vaguely wondered which one she truly was though.

"Hey, there. Zakura? Hi, I'm-"

"I know well who you are."

It was pretty redundant, wasn't it? It was difficult not to. Next to Aizen and Manter, Doll seemed to hold on to as much power and influence in Débauche. Why that was, begged the question...

Doll grinned emptily, a picture made of majolica: "Great! Makes it easier for me, you know, not having to introduce myself and all-"

"Can I help you?"

"Was actually hoping to help you," she drawled out in a languid fashion as she sprawled messily in a nearby seat, arms and legs dangling in odd positions, like a porcelain puppet without strings, whereas her half-lidded magenta eyes glittered with an odd ethereal, near crimson blood light.

And that was when Byakuya decided she was by far eerier than Gigi ever would be. Seriously.

But more importantly, he was immediately on guard from the moment she had addressed him. This was the first time they had actually spoken to each other. And his very initial, strange but super unsettling impression of her, was that she wanted to strangle him the life right out of him, but that it was some lethal impulse she was desperately trying to keep at bay. How daunting...

"I do not need any help, from anyone."

Doll blinked slowly at that: "Why not? I mean, I'm not blind. I can tell you don't like it here."

"Who would?"

"You'd be surprised," she tittered, dull gaze mysterious while her lips tugged up a slight, clearly amused by an apparent joke only she was privy to "Anyways, have a suggestion for you, Zakura. Since you hate it so here, like HATE it, hate ALL of this, so, so much, why don't you leave?"

The noble couldn't contain the shiver over recalling what Aizen showed him - what befell those who dared to try and leave: 'What on earth to do you mean? No one, can leave these grounds.'

"You can, if you are granted permission to..." whispered Doll sweetly as she leaned forwards, speaking as though she had just read his mind.

"I do not follow."

"Huh. I didn't picture you as slow."

Ashen grey eyes instantly narrowed in displeasure at the jibe, but Byakuya restrained himself. Something about her continued to make him wary. And worried. Hoping to bring an end to this conversation, he turned back towards savouring his tasteless drink. But she wasn't letting go...

"I'll say it again. If you are granted permission, you can leave. If you don't get that permission, you'll suffer the fate you were so utterly privileged to witness."

Byakuya did not want to ask how she knew. Sighing softly, he decided to indulge this odd talk: "Let us say I actually believe your words, what is this permission you speak of?"

"If I were you, I'd be more curious to know who I ought to ask this infamous permission from."

"Is there anyone else to ask but Ai- Suzuki-sama?"

"There is," she nodded, her tone sugar, before her perfect demeanour cracked and an unnatural, mirthless, dangerous grin split her mouth from ear to ear as she set her hands upon his legs, and dug her nails deep down enough to break skin "But just so you know, I'll NEVER give it you."

Byakuya did not waste any time to get up and take a step back, ignoring the throbbing sting her nails had left as he tugged himself up and away. The absolute and immeasurable hatred directed his way as she had hissed that, chilled him straight to the bone. What had he ever done to her?

"...How? Why would you have permission to give? Who are you?" he asked carefully, cautious as he kept his distance but not daring to look nor walk away. Lest she dug her claws in his back.

Image of fake perfection, Doll appeared as she always did, as if seconds ago had not occurred, her smile, her gaze, her expression devoid of all and any emotion: "Wouldn't you like to know?"

At this point, the noble was irked and unnerved: "And you believe I'll follow you advice when it is plainly obvious you have a grudge against me - for a reason beyond me? I am not a fool."

The swift quirk of her eyebrow high suggested that that was totally what she thought him to be.

"Like I said, you evidently don't like it here. You don't have to be here. If you change status. You merely need to ask the Master. Since he likes you so much."

Something in how she had said that sounded...almost accusatory, dare he say, perhaps resentful. Was this...jealously? If it was, then by all means, she could take and have Aizen all to herself. That would be more than fine by Byakuya.

"Surely you jest," he muttered "Let us say I am intrigued - How do I, change status as you say?"

"You can become a doll for hire rather than a simple doll."

'What is the difference?' he wondered before he voiced his puzzlement "What does that mean?"

"It means that you get to leave this place, for long periods of time. Earn the Master some good dosh too. He may not look like it, but money matters to him, you know," explained Doll easily, giddily not missing out on how the noble's features went from baffled, to aghast, to repulsed...

"...You're suggesting that I sell myself?"

She suffocated a laugh as she stated scathingly: "You're already being sold. For your body. Mostly. A doll for hire has far more...options, more services to give, to offer. Like say...killing."

She paused lengthily at that, large eyes wide now observing him close as if expecting a reaction. But he didn't give her one, steadily more confused and creeped out instead the more they talked.

She pressed on: "What d'ya say? Wanna let off some steam? Want more blood on your hands?"

Again, there was something undeniably accusing in Doll's tone. Just what was she hinting at?

Not realizing when he had sat down again, Byakuya, disorientated, swallowed hard, frowning: "...I am not interested. Thank you kindly all the same."

He went to stand in order to walk away - far, FAR away from her. However, she didn't let him, hooking her legs around his, and pinning them down firmly to the stool he was seated upon, locking eyes with his widened ones, speaking with deadly softness before he could utter a word: "Really? I find that hard to believe. I can see it, you know. The itch. It's unbearable, isn't it? You're so willing to shed blood, to harm...yourself."

Again, Byakuya, paling, mind reeling, thoughts racing, yanked himself free away, but fell down to the floor this time. He didn't pay attention. He was too rattled to realize. Too afraid to blink.

HOW? How could she possibly know? This? ...Could it be? Had Ichigo told her? Told Aizen? No. Surely not. ...Would he? To an utter stranger? Had he done so intentionally? On accident? Had he been coerced? Drugged?

A small part of himself honestly didn't appreciate that his first reaction was to accuse the teen. But how else was this even possible then?

As the insane world around them bustled onwards, like this moment was invisible to all of them, Doll danced her way towards Byakuya before perching herself comfortably over, each leg on the side of his still and rigid body. She then craned her neck down, in a manner where she was looking him directly in the eye, yet still managed to appear like she was looking down on him.

"You're so, so easy to read," she smiled emptily, eerily "Your eyes...they're like an open book."

Byakuya did not reply, mind too hectic to respond, to react, barely registering that only one other person had ever claimed to be able to effortlessly read him with ease.

Upon seeing that the noble seemed frozen in the moment, Doll blinked, suddenly looking bored: "So, is this a no? Really? I'm so disappointed. I honestly thought you'd jump on the occasion. I'm usually not this generous, you know? You're missing out."

Whether it was the apathy in her tone, the sangfroid in her demeanour, or the odium in her eyes, the Kuchiki noble decided he did not have to deal with this, be she authority of this hell or not. He did not have to sit there and take additional verbal abuse, and absolute chills, with all he had going on here already. Not to mention that she, Doll, irked and intimidated him alarmingly so. Maybe even on the same levels as Aizen himself did. They'd make a perfect match in this hell.

Swiftly and elegantly getting up to his feet, Byakuya gave her a brief glance as he stated curtly: "I assure you, I will be fine."

And with that he began walking off, pointedly proving that he was done with their conversation. But he would've been, if not for her very next words, stilling him in place again, with a smiling and cutting derision in her tone of voice then.

"'Cause you have Panthera and Kou?" she asked cruelly "Is that why, you think you'll be fine? That you can hold on and endure? Go through hell, as long as they're there for you? Oh, honey. You're just in their way. Didn't you notice? Their closeness? Their chemistry? What they have? The both of them? Something they'll quite clearly never, ever have with you? Third-wheeler?"

The dark-haired male blanched, gut twisting horribly. He felt like she had just hammered him in place with hundreds of nails; like she had just cursed him with voodoo, because he felt like a thousand needles had been pushed far in deep under his skin; like she had breathed freezing ice into his veins... All but with words that somehow stung a lot more than they should have...

"I'd simply leave them be, if I were you," her voice resonated by his ear then, having come up behind, hoisted on her toes to reach him "Staying with them is very selfish of you. ...Don't be."

She looked and acted like a doll, but Byakuya was beginning to feel as though she was a devil. And the intimidation she had so effortlessly instilled within him, quickly became just pure fear.

'Don't trust her. She fakes everything,' had warned Grimmjow gravely then '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 favour and watch the fuck out.'

"I have work to do. Please excuse me," breathed out Byakuya shakily, finally able to talk again and for the umpteenth time that night, the Kuchiki noble made an attempt to get away from her, not once looking back.

And this time Doll let him, let him go. But Byakuya missed the ugly, twisted look in her eye, as her lips stretched out wide in a smile that was more of a snarl of all teeth than a beam of joy.

"Fucking Kuchiki bitch."

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Having put distance between him and the uneasiness Doll provided and had induced in him, Byakuya let out a soft, shuddering sigh, closing his eyes for a couple of seconds. Well, he knew better than to ever hold a conversation with her again. That had been much too convoluted and chilling for his liking. What on earth was her issue anyways? What had he ever done to her? Because that was it, right? He had this very distinct impression - which her attitude and words only served to more or less confirm, lest he had become entirely delusional - she despised him. That she did was not the issue - he honestly couldn't care less. But why, that he wished to know.

But before his thoughts could linger on the matter further, he came to realize that pretty quickly he had walked away from one unfortunate situation to find himself in yet another just as fast... Was there truly no respite for him?

"Mmmmm. You really are pretty, aren't ya, Ice Queen?"

Ever so slowly, the Kuchiki warily and wordlessly turned towards the patron who had addressed him, eyes widening a slight. It was one of those that had entered with Shukuro Le Vaar earlier - the mountain of muscles, grinning down at him with a leer. He appeared huger still up close. And the noble was not afraid to admit - his thoughts were safe - that he felt vastly intimidated.

"You look so damn fuck-able, fucking hell."

The tonal quality to his voice was downright disturbing, the gleam in this colossal patron's stare even more so. He was eyeing him like Byakuya was some piece of meat. Discreetly shivering, the noble forced himself to maintain eye-contact and not move, as he saw, felt those lecherous eyes all over him, molesting him from head to toe, fondling him with vile, depraved fantasies.

The patrons easily, instantly found themselves 'fans' of Byakuya, dubbing him 'Ice Queen'. When asked why they had picked that instead of 'Prince' or 'King', they replied that 'Zakura's magnificence exuded femininity and masculinity, but more of the former'. Well, naturally. And he had his make-up artists to "thank" for that - since he wasn't allowed to do his own, but genuinely sucked at it too. It was like the Twilights were purposefully making him seem more alluring, which attracted a lot more attention than the noble would have ever wanted. Hellish...

"Sure is," agreed another random patron, a bit more diplomatic in his tone in spite of the dark, burning lust he shared with his companion as he addressed the noble "Say, what are you called?"

Byakuya had noticed that they would always asked 'what are you called?' rather than 'what is your name?' He resisted the urge to frown in disgust. Dolls really had no names here, did they?

The Kuchiki noble had no wish to utter his tag. So he, with an utterly faked act of demureness, glanced to the side, fleeing their dissolute, salacious stares, before gracefully holding out his left hand for the pair to read off of his bracelet instead.

"Zakura? Lovely tag. A little girly, but still lovely. Beautiful. Sinful even. No one can be this gorgeous, feels like a dream. I'm tempted to kiss just to make sure you're real. Really tempted," drawled out the behemoth of a patron, breaking out of his lone monologue to grin brutishly as he seized Byakuya tightly by his collar "Or maybe I should just fuck you, right here, right now."

It took everything within the Kuchiki, from willpower to nerves, to not violently rip himself free from the other's grip, while his stomach lurched and his eyes went awfully wide with dread. Horrible, horrible, this patron was absolutely horrible. Something told him he would not survive this beast's touch. And this vivid sensation wasn't just due to the fact the other looked positively elated as he drank in voraciously the unrestrained devastation Byakuya could no longer conceal.

Before anything could escalate further for the rattled noble, the other patron present intervened, a hand to the muscled man's shoulder before he smiled at the Kuchiki: "Such a greedy bastard, isn't he? Well, beautiful Zakura, shall we meet up later in Belial's Playground? What say you?"

The Kuchiki had no idea what that was. But he had a feeling that he would not like it one bit. Before he could respond however, another replied for him, a voice Byakuya had come to hate.

"He'll be there should you vote," intoned Aizen with a smile as he made his way towards them "Which I wish you luck on, Le Vaar-san."

A sudden tension settled between the immortal and the muscled man as they stared each other down before the latter male, Driscoll Le Vaar, gave a tilt of his head and walked off and away.

No sooner had the other left, Aizen narrowed his eyes, all semblance of niceties and decorum gone. He had enough issues, concerns and dilemmas as is, he really had no need for yet another.

Turning his attention to one of said issues, the immortal found Byakuya glaring murder his way. And Aizen simply couldn't help the unabashed smirk curling onto his lips: "Yes, Zakura dear? You appear to have something to say, do you not?"

"I despise you."

"I know. And honestly, I wouldn't have it any differently, my dear," stated the Child of Chaos, before beckoning the noble towards him and - once the latter reluctantly came to stand in front of him - smirking straight in his face as grabbed Byakuya's chin with frightful gentleness "Ah. Your resentment is delicious. How lovely it is to finally see this all steadily taking its toll upon you. You truly are stunning in your despair. Rejoice. It doesn't always suit everyone this well."

Before the Kuchiki could react or reply, Aizen had hooked his arm around Byakuya's waist and was leading him into a walk down throughout the room, and towards the far end, to the very front of the stage. In other words, escorting him personally to the doom Aizen had so generously created for him and everyone else tonight.

The noble's skin crawled at how the immortal acted like he owned him - though he sort of did. Byakuya belonged no one - with the exception of everyone in here that laid hands on him and owned his body is such a fashion it betrayed him himself. He inwardly shuddered. Dear Lord, how bleak his thoughts had become...

"I will not let your words do me in," countered Byakuya in a furious whisper, battling against his impulse to break free from the other, latched on to him like a leech robbing him of everything "You may have taken all from me, but I still have my pride."

Aizen nearly laughed aloud, only to chuckle dark and deep in his throat instead, gaze gleaming: "Pride? And where is this pride of yours you eulogize so? When you writhe and cum under the touch of another? Just like a whore would. Oh. Wait. My apologies. Allow me to rectify this. Just like the whore you are becoming."

Red with rage, Byakuya was seconds away from slapping the immortal's hand away from him, when he compelled himself to remain still. Having the Twilights or the other dolls irritated with him was one thing, but Aizen, was a risk too grand to take.

'It's in the best interest of those you care for to not defy me,'

He was much too wary of that one horrendous warning to forget about it. At least, not anymore, dialling down on his defiance the best he could, and always keeping in mind who was at stake.

"You put me in this situation. Do not dare blame me for-"

"Who said anything about blame? All I'm doing, is merely pointing out your reality, Zakura. A reality that will be yours as long as I wish it. And I will be working you to the very bone, have all these lovely, wretched humans bend and break you, until you will be the one begging, for me, to comfort you."

"That will on no occasion, EVER, come to be. Believe you own me, that you can ruin me beyond repair. But I will not enjoy ANYTHING you would suggest to give me, nor will I ever be yours."

At this point, they had both stopped walking, reaching where they had been heading, but neither took note, as Byakuya and Aizen were much too preoccupied with staring each other down, exuding strong but silent yet strong bouts of anger and amusement respectively.

The Kuchiki noble could practically taste then the other's smug scepticism from where he stood, Aizen's patronizing and confident expression seemingly spelling out: 'We'll see, won't we...?'

A chiming, bell-like noise resounded then, not aggressive as to be grating but still loud enough to be heard, leading the immortal to break eye-contact and smirk as the audience all but rushed to their seats: "Well, I do believe that's your cue, my dear."

"You know perfectly that I simply cannot- You are asking me to- This- I refuse. I will NOT-"

All Byakuya's vehement protests died quickly when Aizen slammed down a hand against the wall behind the noble - right beside the Kuchiki's now startled features - all while pinning the latter there before as he towered over that which he now owned and did what he pleased with.

"You will," drawled out the immortal, awfully clear and concise, an edge of warning to his tone "I'll be fairly clear, just in case I haven't been prior to now. You are here for their enjoyment. If they choose to give you pain, endure it - these bodies (Aizen traced the side of Byakuya's tense neck for emphasis, right over an erratic, stuttering pulse) are built to withstand all that. If they choose to give you pleasure however, then you'll greedily accept it, thank them, and hope they're generous enough to give you MORE."

The noble could only shudder, in revulsion and horror. But it was the other's next words which made his heart stop beating, and plummet to his gut in sheer terror: "...Here, let me show you."

True to his word, Aizen descended upon him, right there and then, like a vulture upon a prey. And Byakuya's entire being simply crumbled.

"What are y-?! No. NO. Do not even dare do such a thing! No, st-! Stop! UNHAND me NOW!"

"Don't fight me, Byakuya."

His voice allowed for no argument. In fact, there was something in the immortal's faintly and fleetingly distorted tone just now that led the Kuchiki noble to go completely and utterly limp, all of the fight he had left within simply abandoning him, just like that. He would have fallen to his knees there and then if it weren't for Aizen keeping the noble flush against his own body, an arm looped round Byakuya's waist to secure him in place.

Aizen dove for Byakuya's neck then, swift and true, latching on to the pale, soft skin, scraping against it with his perfect teeth, as a hand wrapped itself in those silky, black locks and tugged till the Kuchiki's neck was arched back at an uncomfortable angle. The noble let out a strangled noise as he was unable to battle against being eaten up by the immortal's insidiously invasive, but also wickedly talented, tongue, lavishing his flesh with attention, from his collarbone all the way up to his earlobe, before sharply sinking his teeth in there.

Byakuya refused, denied, entirely was against accepting that he was enjoying this torment. This wretched body, that was not his, was taking over, taking possession of his reactions and making him feel what he'd rather not. No. No. This couldn't be happening to him. Not him. Why him? He was reacting. To Aizen's touch. No. NO. He had feared this. Dreaded it. He didn't want this, any of this. This SO much less. He had to get away. But he couldn't move, couldn't pull away.

After toying around with his prey as he saw fit, touching and violating the noble to his content, Aizen eventually, finally relinquished his hold, smirking wide in Byakuya's flushed features: "There we go. Pink has always suited you best, my dear. My perfect little tragedy."

Panting hard, mortified and seething, Byakuya knew what he would say next was going to more than likely inconvenience him greatly, get him into trouble. He knew it, yet he went and said it anyways, if only to retaliate with what he could.

"Is...? Is this how you go and honour the love you allegedly have for my father, Aizen Sosuke?"

All of Aizen's amusement vanished in the blink of an eye, only to be replaced with glacial ice, dark brown eyes narrowed dangerously, burning ablaze with muted, muffled but menacing rage: "Your father? I loved, yes. You, are not even worthy of a quarter of the affection I owed him."

Byakuya went pale beyond belief, dread clawing at him from the inside. Had he gone too far? He didn't get to find out in that moment as the immortal turned his back on him and strode off, but not without drawling out, his tone cruel and cutting: "Run along now, my sweet little whore. And do remember to put on a nice show for everyone. After all, that's all you're good for here."

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Sticks and stones can break my bones, can break my bones in two

But only you know what to say to get to me

To get me, get me low

So low, so low

You make me feel

So low, so low

(Low, by Adelitas Way)

Head hung low to the point his hair veiled his face, Byakuya mutely travelled all the way to the back of the stage, like a condemned prisoner, before he slowly came to stand next to Grimmjow, who was already there and silently took in the former's shaking form, clenched fists and jaw...

Grimmjow had seen Aizen hold the noble back, so he could piece together what had transpired and what it could have led to. The feline more or less knew what the immortal was capable of after all, since he had experienced it first-hand himself. Even here and now, despite the distance, he could still feel the immortal's hands as vile dents, hand-printed upon every inch of his skin.

Suppressing a shudder of disgust and a surging bile of rage, he swiftly redirected his thoughts. Since now that he had brought this up, what was with Aizen's sudden lack of interest in him? The former Espada should be relieved actually - better yet, he should not be thinking about it, yet alone care, or be bothered. But it troubled him greatly, more and more so as days went by. He had thought, for at least Ichigo's sake, that he could use that obsession - speaking of which, when was the last time the other had called him 'beloved' - to his advantage. He couldn't outwit Aizen as much he'd like, nor seduce him to change the immortal's mind or do what he wanted, but he could at least bargain with the guy, like Grimmjow had always had. A favour for a favour.

Not like he had any choice in the matter of course, but the Child of Chaos always appreciated, enjoyed a challenge, revelling in the sheer power and control it gave him. To lord over others. Which was what he was currently doing with the Kuchiki noble. And Aizen was relishing in it.

Grimmjow was about to open his mouth to speak, when he realized he didn't know what to say to the noble, he so kept silent instead. He also thought of reaching out, to at least give the other a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. But then he recalled how averse to touch Byakuya was... Well, this officially meant he was all out of options. Awesome. So much for playing Samaritan - he should leave things like this to Ichigo instead, damn it.

"Ready to fucking get it, candy boy?"

Bazz's voice cut through the atmosphere like a jagged knife as he prowled towards them like a predator, leading Byakuya to freeze and warily eye the other, who grinned wide with vile intent.

Paling, the Kuchiki noble couldn't restrain the dread that pulsed through him at the sight of the other, and he almost took a few steps away from the looming threat. The Twilight named Bazz had made it very clear that he had every intention of making Byakuya's already hellish existence here even harsher, and so far the doll had proved himself rather committed to keeping his word.

Though he had not asked it of them, Grimmjow and Ichigo had selflessly, albeit recklessly, gone and tried all they possibly could, to the point of scuffles even, to keep Bazz away. But whenever the latter lost an opportunity, he would find three more. This night apparently would be no different. And needless to say, the Kuchiki noble was not at all looking forward to this...

The noble was sharply yanked out of his thoughts by Bazz, now standing right in front of him, and who was seconds away from laying his hand on Byakuya: "I fucking asked you a question, bitch. SO ANSWER ME."

Memories of past abuse, too fresh to forget, too vivid to ignore, latched onto Byakuya's mind, and rather than dodge or fight back even, he remained as still as statue, wholeheartedly adverse, but reluctantly plying. What was the point in fighting firm against what he had no control over? What was the point in fighting back when there was no way to triumph? What, was the point?

Bazz however, never managed to touch Byakuya in that very instant, for Grimmjow had caught the redhead's wrist in a vice grip, keeping it nice and put as he squeezed hard enough to bruise. Amber eyes flared with ire and the Twilight hissed, wrenching his hand free and stepping back, before he glared dark violence and sheer murder towards the blue-haired feline who, in turn, was standing staunch and solid, and simply couldn't even begin to look concern or bothered...

"Say," spoke up the feline, nonchalant and casual as he tucked his hands back into his pockets "I'm shit at remembering scripts, why don't I do it instead?"

"...You mean, do him?" sneered Bazz after a moment, before he cocked an eyebrow up high "Like what? You want to change the routine, that it? That's mighty fucking conceited of you."

Grimmjow merely shrugged, not changing his demeanour and not reacting to the other's taunts. "No, just offering is all. I could fuckin' stick to what I'm meant to do, no prob. Don't expect me to say anything that makes sense though," admitted the former Espada, before allowing his eyes to go wide, along with a scathing grin to match "Fuck. That'd ruin your show so bad too."

Bazz blinked, aware of the other's provocative derision but stunned by the blatant display of it. He wouldn't be sure how to describe this accurately, but he was given the distinct impression that the blue-haired's unrestraint and nonchalance, was to restrain some silent bubbling rage. As if to say, to convey 'Go ahead and do or say something out of line here, I actually dare you'.

"...You should be learning your lines," eventually drawled out Bazz with narrowed eyes, not raising to the other's goading out of caution, but still implying who here was of higher status. The Twilights ensured Aizen's orders. And no one else was entitled to an opinion. Except Doll.

"You should make this less fuckin' complicated," countered Grimmjow easily, still grinning, still without an ounce of mirth despite the ridicule he was serving "It's just fucking, after all."

Whilst the feline and the Twilight were sizing each other down, the Kuchiki noble hadn't said a word, the tension was so awfully thick he felt as though it was being shoved down his throat. He didn't like this. Any of it all. But this even less. And yet, he didn't believe he should get involved, so he stayed behind Grimmjow for now, waiting for this show of dominance to end.

A slight nudge to Bazz side led him to lock eyes with Jugo, who'd at some point come to stand next to them. The two Twilights spoke to each other with their gazes for a couple of a seconds, conveying to each other some sort of silent conversation, before Jugo pressed up against Bazz, while the latter glared in Grimmjow and Byakuya's direction "Fine. We'll initiate the first part, and then you can come on in. Get ready, candy boy."

Watching the Twilights leave, the Kuchiki noble hadn't realized he had been holding his breath, hands swiftly but shakily fluttering to shield his face, quickly muffling a soft, strangled sound. This is too much. He couldn't deal with this. He needed to breathe. Oh, and speaking of which...

"You didn't have to do that."

Glancing behind him from over his shoulder, the other didn't utter anything at first, just stared, before he drawled out in a deadpan tone: "Did you want to-?"

"No. I- Thank you. But please, do not do that again."

The feline's lips split into a face-eating grin: "I'll do whatever the bloody hell I want. Fuck ya."

Promptly parting his fingers a slight, the Kuchiki noble glared resentfully at the other: "You-!"

"Sure, sure - I'm all that shit," cut off the feline with a broader smirk "How about a deal then?"

Titling his head a fraction as a puzzled frown appeared, Byakuya repeated carefully: "A...deal?"

The sarcasm faithfully embedded within Grimmjow's features evaporated then, gaze dimming, and the noble couldn't help but be startled by the sudden and drastic change. For what reason? And why?

Without a word, the former Arrancar turned and took a step towards the Kuchiki noble till they were standing toe-to-toe, casually Grimmjow towering over Byakuya both in frame and height. Nervous, but refusing to let it show, the dark-haired male glanced up at the other, a head taller than him, all while closely observing the blue-haired male's expression.

Something was evidently on the other's mind. He looked as if he was holding back from making a specific decision but like he also had no other solution at the moment. Mouth going dry with apprehension, and an odd sense of anticipation, the noble genuinely hoped it was not ill intent.

"Look, Kuchiki Byakuya," began Grimmjow, a finality to his tone that made Byakuya shiver along with utterance of his own name "I'll stick my neck out for you, as much as I am able to - like, not making guarantees - and for every time I do, you, in return, do your best to protect I-"

"Zakura, you're up."

Kandu cut through the moment, popping in their moment like a shard of glass piercing skin as he peered in at them through the curtains, beckoning for the noble to follow him. Out on stage.

Heart thundering hard and loud within his ribcage, Byakuya was sincerely at loss for words. But not because of him having to go out there - for he hadn't registered the Twilight just yet. No, rather, he was currently gaping up at Grimmjow right now, silvery ashen eyes gone wide. He honestly didn't know what to say or think, so many thoughts running rampant in his hectic mind the second he grasped exactly what it the other was asking. Of him. For the sake of Ichigo.

'Do you even realize this is far more than mere concern? Can you, a once Hollow, actually feel? Transcend emptiness? And...dare I call it this, love? Is that what this is? No, no. It cannot be. Impossible. Unheard of. And yet, what else am I to make of this? What else am I supposed to name this unreserved devotion this Arrancar - formerly so - harbours for Kurosaki Ichigo?'

"Zakura."

Byakuya hissed as the Twilight, having grown impatient, walked towards them and seized his arm, and practically began dragging him away. Though Grimmjow let out a low, lethal snarl which stilled Kandu, it was the Kuchiki noble who wrenched himself free from the other's grip, gritting out coldly: "I am fully capable of walking on my own."

"Then just walk already," retorted Kandu smartly, before narrowing his eyes and taking off first "Don't linger. Our audience is expecting you. You're being rude to them. That's unbecoming."

That one mention was enough to make Byakuya blanch. Ah. Yes. Tonight's events. Wonderful.

A slight poke to his side led the noble to meet Grimmjow's gaze, solemn but also oddly sincere in the morose sympathy the former Arrancar appeared to be feeling for him in this very moment. And for a reason he couldn't for the life of him begin to get, rather than be moved or grateful... Byakuya was irked, annoyed, aggravated, vexed by this instead. How bizarre. It was like he'd rather not owe the former Espada a single thing, not even in terms of sentiment. And with that...

"...I will try," he eventually replied to the feline, ashen gaze cast low as he made his way out and on to the stage, mind whispering words of contradiction 'But I cannot make promises either. Not with the state of mind I am within.'

With the curtains still shut, Bazz was already on stage, cross-armed and gnashing his teeth tight. That blue-haired one was a real meddlesome bastard. And it was starting to irk him, to no end.

The Twilights had been assigned to do something very specific, and that blasted Panthera was set on thwarting it at every chance he got - it was like he knew, or something. And that simply wouldn't do. Doll was right - those three were too close. And Doll always knew best, after all.

Delicate hands came to wrap round his waist then, holding him close in a warm, loving embrace as Jugo leaned in from behind Bazz, to nibble his jaw and whisper by his ear: "Ready, baby?"

When the redhead remained unresponsive, without any reaction, Jugo, concerned, came to stand before the other, setting a gentle hand tenderly to other male's cheek: "Bazz? Baby, talk to me."

Amber eyes flashed then, a snarl upon Bazz's lips right as Byakuya appeared on the other side of the stage then, steadily walking towards them: "I'mma fucking murder that prick's ass, Jay."

In spite of the smile to his features, Jugo grasped the other by the cheeks to have him face him and spoke in a serious tone: "Baby. I get why you're so focused on making his life miserable, but stop fooling around. You're making me jealous."

This seemed to snap Bazz out of his irritation, and he smirked suggestively: "So stop, or what?"

"Or I'll teach you a lesson you'll never forget," promised Jugo roughly against Bazz's mouth, before he tugged the other's lower lip with his teeth and nibbled on it, blonde eyebrow arching.

That was the only warning the red-haired male got before Jugo bit down hard, hard enough to draw blood, red staining their lips and teeth, as they both devoured each other in a fervid kiss. Bazz shuddered as the other Twilight moaned against his mouth, leading him drag a hand down Jugo's back to grab at the latter's perfect butt, clad in tight leather and drew the other male flush against him. They both gasped in tandem then, heads thrown back a slight, breaths intermingled, a string of saliva keeping them connected as one.

"Oh, shit, Jay, honey," hissed Bazz as he caused further friction between them, before leaning his forehead directly against that of the other Twilight "I fucking love you to shreds and pieces."

"Love you too, baby," smiled Jugo sweetly as he nuzzled the other's face, before his gaze turned sly as he led Bazz to regard Byakuya, who was standing still a few feet away, looking anywhere bit at them and their blatant display of lustful affection "Come now, love. Let's have some fun."

---

(1) It has come to my attention, while watching the anime, that Byakuya is aware of Ichigo's Hollow, but hasn't mentioned it. Like ever. To anyone (not even Rukia seemed to be aware, right?). Or rather, it seems that way to me? I recall that Orihime, Uryuu, Grimmjow, Ulquiorra, Yammy, Urahara and the Vizards witnessing it - and of course, Byakuya by extension - and Rukia but only much, MUCH later... I might be totally wrong here, so if I am my apologies XP

(2) The stage in scene is inspired by the one in the music video for Mr Brightside, by the Killers and the patrons are seated like the audience while Aizen's where Eric Anthony Roberts's seated.

(3) As the dance routine was most undoubtedly poorly relayed, allow me to patch things up by offering you visuals instead. If you research this 'Hottest Female Dance Group on Got Talent? Sexy Dance Moves...' on YouTube (IF the video is still up on there), you should find a dance routine with six girls. Though the routine ended up not being written word for action, this was the very video that inspired this scene - please feel free to watch it with the dolls within the segment in question. And so, from left to right, Débauche's dancing dolls are the first girl, with straight brown hair is Gigi; the second girl, with blonde wavy hair and plump physique is Meni; the third girl, with dark wavy hair is Kujo; the fourth girl, with light brown hair, is Candi; the fifth girl, with straight blonde hair and a plump physique is Bambi; the sixth girl, the one dressed the most in lilac with curly blonde hair, is the unspecified girl - the one Ichigo mentions never seeing before). Any guesses as to who that last girl might be? X3 In addition, cut away the dancers' smiles and the whole Global Got Talent ambiance, and you should get the scene I tried so desperately to portray for you guys. Alas, I really suck at big motion descriptions, like fighting and dancing. Sigh, woe is me.

(4) Doll's performance was inspired by AMA (by Julie Gautier, a French free diving champion; her art is BREATH-TAKING, literally; I DEFINITELY recommend watching this 6 minute video, you won't regret it, it is simply magical, I simply could not for the life of me look away and I don't think I've ever, other than for music, clicked as much on the Replay button before).

(5) Le Vaar is the family name of Askin Nakk Le Vaar, one of the Sternritter in the last Arc of the official Bleach series. In this fanfic, since this Part is more AU then the first one, Askin, Driscoll (Berci), Berenice (Gabrielli), Ginjou (Kugo) and Shukuro (Tsukishima) are siblings. And there's a reason for this, as we can see in the conversation between Berenice and Aizen, since all five are Children of Chaos - their real name here is Tsukuyomi (Children of Greed).

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A/N: Good God, this chapter's been so freaking long. Next update will be the last part of this chapter, promise. Thank you so, SO much for all your love and support! See you next update... Hopefully soon? Please keep an eye on my profile/bio - I document my process in percentages as I write and finish segments. Or, if you'd rather not wait too long, I post snippets every now and then on my Twitter - my handle can be found on my profile/bio. Until then, Bella Ciao!