Chapter Three:

By the time he had called an end to their first training session, Ichigo had been bloodied, bruised and unwilling to go down despite his numerous injuries. He had to wonder just what Aizen had done to him to create such an unrelenting force of pure willpower. It was terrifying.

It wasn't in his nature to coddle his subordinates. Ichigo was powerful and gifted, that much was obvious, and as such he would receive an even harder time than most of the people Byakuya did personally tutor. If Renji thought he had it hard... He would be shocked.

Byakuya was no fool, he knew he had locked his office door that morning. He also knew that it had been unlocked upon his return. Someone had been hiding under his desk and he knew who it had been.

Ichigo Kurosaki. There was so much more to him than met the eye. To the eye he was a handsome; attractive and foxy young man with an ego to match. But looking beneath the surface, he was devious; calculative and manipulative. Just like Aizen.

Their training match had been about far more than continuing to help the youth reach Bankai. It had given him a chance to see just how much Aizen's training had impacted him, every move was perfection, like water flowing and gliding through the air with a deadly force. Beauty and deadliness mixed in a tomb of physique and resoluteness.

He could see Aizen reflected in the way Ichigo moved across the battle field, the way he analysed the fight, and the way he sought the fastest and cleverest method to overcome his foe. He had to ask the question, why would Aizen train him so thoroughly, unless he intended to bring him into whatever dark plan he had created?

Byakuya glanced over at the strawberry, gesturing for him to walk with him, and in silence he took his newest subordinate to the private bathhouse around the back of the training area, one which only Renji, his Third Seat and himself were allowed to use after training.

Unlocking the door and admitting them entrance, he headed inside the warm room ahead of the enigma behind him. The noble began to undress, hanging his clothes on the pegs provided and tucking his sandals under the bench before his hands rose to his hair, carefully unclipping the pearl white kenseikan that depicted him as the current head of his household. He was especially careful with them as he placed them with his clothes, grabbing a towel and setting it down at the edge of the natural hot spring which formed the bath.

The Kuchiki heir was old enough and worldly enough that his own body gave him no embarrassment when viewed by others. He had bathed here with Renji many times while training with him and it was something natural in his eyes.

A sigh escaped him as he slid into the water, allowing his muscles to relax before he cast his gaze towards his new Third Seat. The younger man was taking a lot longer to undress, and Byakuya couldn't quite decide if that was because of the injuries inflicted in training, or because he was purposefully being enticing.

Unable to completely tear his eyes away, he permitted himself the sly indulgence of glancing over the contours of the other's body; the ripple of taut muscles beneath tanned skin, and the fine definition of his spine. There were scars there, on his back, not many and probably not normally noticeable, but he could see them dancing under the illumination of the full moon above them, he couldn't help but wonder how he'd come by them.

His eyes sank lower, despite his brain telling him to stop, and a small silent gasp escaped his lips as he saw a violent array of bruises on his hips and buttocks, they were fresh, still deep purple and black against his skin, he wondered how much more of him was littered with such markings, but his investigation was brought to an abrupt end as Ichigo turned to face him.

Washing his face with a flannel and soap, Byakuya allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of cleansing the sweat from his skin, and at the very least the heat of the water gave him an excuse for the heady flush now covering his cheeks. In all honesty, it had been some time since he had struggled so hard against someone in the training ring, even if he had eventually come out on top, the thrill of someone so powerful was rare to find now.

He watched under his fringe as Ichigo finally dipped into the water, a moan of delight escaping his Third Seat as his sore muscles were instantly soothed, eyes fluttering shut as he seemed to bask in the warmth.

Time ticked by in silence, neither of them wanting to break it, despite knowing there was good reason to do so. They were watching each other, not to the point of outright staring, but by means of which they both knew that difficult conversation was coming up. Soon.

Throwing the man a cloth to clean himself with, Byakuya allowed his fingers to brush through his own locks of hair, brushing them back off his face as he considered how best to broach the coming topic. He decided being forthright was the only way to go.

"I know you broke into my office, Kurosaki." He began finally, watching for any outward response to his words, "And I am aware that you were hiding beneath my desk when I returned early with Abarai."

"Is that so?" Ichigo asked, washing his face nonchalantly, "Do you have any proof of my... Supposed actions?"

"I don't think there is any need to insult my deductive abilities, do you? We are both adults, we are alone here in this bathhouse, no one will hear us."

"It sounds more like you are propositioning me, than interrogating me." The strawberry mused with a twitching smirk at his lips.

The noble raised an eyebrow, "Do I have need to 'interrogate' you, Kurosaki?"

"You tell me, Taichou. If you knew I was present in your office, without permission, why did you not call me out? Why did you allow me to leave?" He looked at the man.

"Because Abarai still believes in you." Byakuya breathed.

"Renji is a fool." Ichigo muttered, returning to washing as if no longer interested in the conversation.

"He cares about your well being, Ichigo."

Glancing up again, he was sure that was the first time his Taichou had addressed him so casually, he snorted regardless, "And that is why he is a fool. He cares so much, he can't even see when someone is beyond saving."

"And are you beyond saving I wonder? He speaks highly of you, all the time. I swear my ears could bleed for all the good things he tells me about you, I wonder just how much he really knows you though. How much of it is fabricated?" the nobleman scanned his face with narrowed eyes, "There is one benefit of him knowing you so well however."

"Oh? And what is that?" Ichigo sighed, verging on bored.

"He warned me that any smile I ever receive from you would be nothing more than a trickle of the lie you feed everyone every single day." His head tilted slowly, "I'm sure your lack of emotion makes you a valuable asset to Aizen."

"I have many qualities, any of which would make me a valuable asset to any Division, Kuchiki Taichou." The strawberry replied with a snort, running a hand through his hair to brush it back out of his face.

"Not least your ability to fulfil any order, without care of the consequences, or the feelings of guilt that would normally come after." Byakuya seemed to pause as he mulled over a thought in his mind, frowning faintly, "The perfect weapon."

"Renji, as far as I know, is unaware of the lengths and depths of my... Emotional problems. So, I assume you worked it out yourself while we were training." Ichigo leaned back, the picture of relaxed, "You're observant."

"I wouldn't be where I am today if I was blind, Kurosaki."

Ichigo refrained from snorting in response, "Is there a point to this inane babble? I was hoping to go and see to my injuries soon."

"What does Aizen have over you, to make you serve him so willingly?" He pressed.

"I do not serve Aizen Taichou, I serve the Goeti Thirteen." Was the mechanical response, practised.

"I can taste the lie, Kurosaki." Formality was back.

"You certainly are tedious."

"I prefer the term 'persistent' actually."

Ichigo let out a long breath and glared at the moon overhead, Kuchiki was far more observant than he'd ever imagined, it seemed it was time to rely on his instincts, "Someone like me... Needs a purpose." He murmured, "I never had one of those in the Academy, and I was pretty pathetic for it. Weak, shy, uncertain... I didn't have a family to go home to at the end of everyday, no one to praise my hard work or determination to succeed against all odds. I lived on the campus, working two jobs in Rukongai to pay for my studies. My only purpose was to survive. Make it from one year to the next... To get one step closer to being in a position where I could find out why I had no memories."

"No memories?" Byakuya frowned.

The younger man huffed, dropping his head back down and staring at him, eyes intense, "Mm. There's a hole in my memories, a gap that I can't fill. For the longest time, I wanted to join the Goeti Thirteen because... I thought the resources here might help me find out what had happened to me."

"And now?"

"Now I don't need to worry about it." He shrugged, "The truth is... The moment I met Aizen, he looked at me like he saw me. Not my hair, not my reiatsu. Me. He saw the deadness in my eyes, when I hid it so well from everyone else. He offered me a position in Division Five the very same day."

"He gave you a function." The noble realised, "Something to live for."

"Yes."

"Kurosaki, believe me when I tell you this: I am going to get to the bottom of what Aizen is doing, I will find out who his co-conspirators are, and when I do... I plan to kill them with my own hands for their betrayal." His expression darkened dramatically, "If you stand among them, I will not hesitate to cut you down as well."

To his surprise, Ichigo broke into a wide grin, it was borderline feral, "Believe me when I tell you this, Byakuya Kuchiki: I'd end you before you drew your blade against him."

"I see." The noble closed his eyes and let out a long breath, "We are at an impasse it would seem. I know I must report what I have learnt tonight, however I am certain you would kill me before I left the bath. However, should you kill me Aizen will never discover what I have already discovered, and what I may have already passed on to others."

"I would agree, we are in deadlock."

"I have an offer for you." The raven haired male murmured, raising one perfect eyebrow.

"I'm listening."

Pausing, Byakuya sat a little straighter, "Give me the information I need to take Aizen down, enough to make a solid case against him, and whatever you have done for him so far will be kept out of it entirely. You can remain a free man."

"No deal." Ichigo folded his arms.

"Is a purpose really so important to you, that you'd go so far for him." Byakuya snapped, "What happened to you?"

"I don't know." He shrugged, "All I have is my work. There's nothing else. Don't think for a moment I feel superior without my ability to feel, because I don't. I feel empty, all the time. The only things that make me feel anything is sex and..."

"And?" Byakuya felt an uncomfortable sensation tickle at the back of his mind as he recalled the bruises he'd seen on the younger man's hips and buttocks, everything starting to click into place. His anger at Aizen increasing only further at the idea that he was taking advantage of the youth in more ways than one.

"And... Fighting." Ichigo murmured what sounded like a half truth, glancing down as he clenched his fist in the water, "But the feelings don't last, its momentary, then... Nothingness again."

"Aizen isn't helping you, he's making it worse." The other tutted, "You need a new purpose."

"I like what I do." He muttered.

Byakuya's eyes flashed and he suddenly appeared over Ichigo, a fist in those orange locks, yanking his head back, bringing their faces only a breadth apart, "You don't like or dislike anything though, do you? That is what you were saying."

"Ah." He winced at the unexpected aggression, clenching his teeth as he glared up at him, letting out a hiss, "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to realise that there is more to you than this. You don't need Aizen. All you have to do is believe in yourself for a change." He breathed, looking deeply into those chestnut eyes, "You're better than this. Whatever this... Is."

"You don't know me." Ichigo whispered, "You're a good man, Kuchiki Taichou. But you're heading down a dangerous path. You should make sure you really want this before going any further."

"Or I'll end up dead?"

"Yes."

Kuchiki frowned faintly, sure there was an almost saddened expression on Ichigo's face, "Are you sure you don't feel anything? Your face suggest otherwise."

"It's a practised movement... Aizen said I needed to blend in more with people. Hide the fact I don't feel." He replied stiffly, "I've been hiding it for years, such responses are practically like breathing."

"I see."

The noble allowed his fingers to slide from Ichigo's hair, sitting beside the man instead and considering his options, Ichigo was in danger while he served Aizen, he had no doubt the man would use and abuse him until he ran out of usefulness, but even if he managed to convince him to turn on the treacherous Taichou, he would be even graver danger. But he so desperately needed a breakthrough with this. He knew Aizen was dangerous, he knew there was more going on than could be seen.

So many variables. It was the one thing he disliked about his captaincy. Having to make those choices. The choices between being humane and being efficient. For the greater good of Soul Society, he should wring every drop of information out of Ichigo right then and there where he was exposed and the closest to defenceless he ever was. But would it be more fruitful to allow him to open up in his own time.

The good of many, or the good of one?

"I can't make you do anything," he said finally, standing and beginning to climb out of the bath, "I can't make you fear me, or fear the outcome of whatever path you are on right now. I can't make you chose between whatever kind of existence you have, and what you could have if you escaped Aizen's clutches. Whether it endangers my own life or not, if you ever need me... I will be here for you."

Ichigo stared, eyes momentarily following the trickles of water down snowy skin before he rolled his eyes, "Whatever."

Byakuya left him alone, mind wandering. Something monumental would have to happen to make Ichigo change sides, that was now obvious. Maybe if he could uncover what had happened to Ichigo to make him lose his ability to feel, and returned his memories to him it would be enough.

But why was he so invested? It was his duty to report what he had discovered to Division Two. He should have Ichigo hauled away in chains and yet... He couldn't do it. Not yet. Ichigo was young, young enough that maybe he could turn things around. A lifetime in prison would be a waste.

That was, at the very least, what he was telling himself for the time being.


Ichigo sat bolt upright in bed, heaving for breath as sweat ran down his face and neck, clutching at the bed sheets as his heart hammered against his chest, threatening to burst free. He jumped as he felt a warm hand on his spine and his gaze snapped around, blinking to clear his vision.

"A-Aizen Taichou?" He asked uncertainly, "Ugh... My head is killing me..."

"I am certain your head will not be the only thing hurting today." A smirk formed on the brunets' lips as he laid back down and continued stroking Ichigo's skin, "You were having a nightmare, it seems."

Rubbing his eyes restlessly, he turned, looking at the man, "That would make sense but... How did I end up in your bed?"

Aizen chuckled, grabbing a fistful of orange hair as he pinned the younger man beneath his body, "My, my, I'm not sure if I should be insulted that you can forget our encounters so easily."

"Huh?" Ichigo stuttered out as he looked up at him, no resistance or urge to fight back against his new position.

"You came here late last night, rattled, and reported your conversation with Kuchiki from the bathhouse." He tilted his head and allowed his lips to roam down the vulnerable neck exposed before him, "It seems he really got under your skin, we went six rounds before you finally passed out. Even I have never seen you quite so agitated."

Ichigo's eyes fluttered as he felt lips against his skin, gasping and jerking as he was bitten suddenly, feeling teeth sink into his skin, leaving their mark there where it would be visible and obvious, not Aizen's usual style at all, "He's perceptive and knows what buttons to press."

"Mm, I can imagine. I've worked alongside him for many years, he is as devious as he is proud. Not that he would ever admit to it. Regardless, once you passed out, I decided to break my own rules and allowed you to sleep it off here, instead of sending you back to your own room."

"Thank you."

"You are welcome." The brunet said without looking up.

This was unusual behaviour. Ichigo wasn't sure what to make of it, shuddering as he felt the swipe of a tongue against his collarbone, "I should... I should return to Division Six before I am missed."

"Indeed," Aizen pulled back slowly, "If Kuchiki corners you again, come to me immediately and report what is said. You are doing well, Ichigo, even if he knows you are working for me he is powerless to act without proof. I am impressed with your work so far, keep it up."

"Yes, sir." He swallowed, watching the man get up and head for the bathroom.

Ichigo hesitated momentarily, dragging himself out of bed and groaning at the sharp pain running up and down his legs and his back; he dressed as quickly as his body would allow and left Aizen's quarters.

He was fortunate, it was still early morning and very few people were around to see him sneak back into Division Six. He reached his room swiftly and disappeared inside, locking the door firmly before resting his back against it and staring at his room.

Kuchiki knew he was a traitor, and yet for some strange reason hadn't made a move to kill him, harm him or report him. He'd tried to give him a way out, risking his own safety in the process.

With a jolt, Ichigo felt like a bucket of ice water had been thrown over him, 'He knew... He knew I'd go straight to Aizen... He knew I'd tell him everything and he still... He still... Idiot!'

Storming into his bathroom and yanking his shihakusho off, leaving it in a pile on the floor, he climbed into the shower and allowed the hot water to flood his senses. What was the nobleman thinking? He would get himself killed, he was sure.

Too tired, and too sore to think too much into it, Ichigo washed and longed for his bed. Grateful he had an afternoon shift so he could catch up on some sorely needed sleep. What he didn't need was another nightmare. What had it even been about?

He remembered a man. It wasn't someone he'd met before, at least he didn't think he had. He had been tall, slender. A little out of focus like looking through steamy glass, Ichigo hadn't been able to see his features clearly, but there had been a long trail of white hair. Not like Ukitake Taichou's hair, this was longer, shinier, almost regal.

He couldn't remember anything else. It didn't matter.

Slumping slightly, he allowed his expression to fall blank, he felt unusually tense, and it was utterly unrelated to the stubborn pain in his back. He couldn't believe he'd blacked out like that, to the extent of barely remembering reaching Division Five. Just what state had he been in for Aizen to allow him to sleep in his bed?

It was one of the two unspoken rules of their... Arrangement. One, he was never permitted to remain in Aizen's bed after their encounter concluded. And two, do not fuck anyone else. In all their years spent working together, he'd never broken either of them until now.

Turning the water off sharply, he stepped out of the shower and finally caught a glimpse of himself in the full length mirror in the corner. His eyes widened at the violent array of bruises, bite marks and scratches littering his skin. He didn't remember receiving any of them, except for the deep purple mark on his neck from that very morning.

Ichigo felt uncharacteristically uncomfortable. He had never protested or refused anything he'd done in the bedroom with Aizen, no matter how intense or perverse it had been. He was no stranger to being tied down, hit, dominated and forced into submission, asphyxiated at the point of orgasm.

He had a tremendous level of trust that Aizen wouldn't harm him in any way that would be lasting. And sex was one of the only things which could ignite any kind of emotions within him, just has he had told Kuchiki. He relished those moments, craved them almost to the point of addiction. Allowing his disconnection from the world to falter in the wake of pleasure and pain, and intolerably intoxicating blend. No one provided it better than Aizen.

But this was different. What was it Aizen had said... Six rounds? Sure enough Ichigo had far more stamina than most but that was a stretch even for him. Swallowing thickly, he turned away from the mirror, hanging his head as he dried off.

Crawling into his own bed, he curled up under the warm covers and tried to sleep. Eyes squeezed tightly shut. A minute ticked by in silence before he cracked his gaze open again and squinted at the photo on his bedside table. That hadn't been there when he'd first investigated his new residence.

Sitting up gingerly, he reached out and plucked the frame from its resting place, eyebrow rising as he saw that it was a picture of Renji; Rukia; Kira; Hinamori and himself all squished together on the day of their graduation. Everyone looked so happy, except for him.

Did he really look that dead everyday? If that scowl was him, supposedly, hiding his lack of emotions he shuddered to imagine what he looked like when he wasn't bothering. Gulping, he put the picture back, he could just about sense a gentle flitter of his new Taichou's reiatsu over it. Where had Byakuya even found it?

He flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, there was so much to think about. He was getting a headache.