Author's Note: [[When I first completed the draft for Dark Hearts, the story was large enough to potentially split into a trilogy however after a lot of thought I decided to upload it as one huge story. For your knowledge, Chapter 36 concluded Arc 1 of Dark hearts, which I affectionately dub "The Rise" or "The Soul Society Arc". Now, Chapter 37 begins Arc 2, which I dubbed "The Fall" or... "The Hueco Mundo Arc". For your entertainment, the drama begins now! Thank you as always for your support towards the story, it is hugely appreciated, I hope you continue to enjoy!]]
Chapter Thirty Seven:
"I am going after him with or without your permission! I won't sit back and allow him to suffer because of me!" Ichigo snapped, hands balled into fists as he glowered at the Sou-Taichou, ignoring the multiple gasps from the other Taichou and Fukutaichou in the meeting room.
"You will not leave Soul Society, Ichigo Kurosaki." Yamamoto's voice was even but his narrowed eyes betrayed his anger, "I will not risk the lives of my men to rescue one man who may or may not already be dead. As regrettable as the situation is... Kuchiki Taichou would understand that we must address the good of many over the good of one."
Rage rolled down Ichigo's shoulders, making his reiatsu flare out in tendrils of darkness that he was sure were almost visible, he was barely containing his own anger let alone Shiro's, "So you are happy... To sacrifice one of your own men... To someone like Aizen? It makes you no better than he is!"
"Happy? Not at all. But this is necessity." The old man cracked his cane against the wooden floor, "Renji Abarai will assume temporary command of Division Six with you as his Fukutaichou. The Kuchiki Elders will be informed of what has happened and they will decide among themselves what to do."
Ichigo drew himself to his full height and glared fearlessly down at the man, "You are a coward!" He said bluntly, turning his back on him before he stalked from the room without a hint of dismissal.
Byakuya had never abandoned him, even when it would have been wise to do so. He had remained, and helped him back from the brink of darkness. He had been willing to risk the good of the many for the good of one. He'd been willing to risk his own life. There was no way he could sit back and assume his lover was already dead, the man was far too tenacious for that.
His expression softened very slightly, "Of course, he'd just insist that he is persistent." He muttered, a warm feeling rising in his chest at the memory.
"True enough." The familiar voice of his best friend roused him from his thoughts, and Ichigo glanced around as he saw Renji catching up to him, "Sou-Taichou is furious with you, you know?"
"Then I had the desired effect." He rebuked coolly, "I really don't care what he thinks of me."
"You should," Renji rubbed his chin, "Got a friend in Division Two, they told me that Yamamoto ordered Soi-Fon to reopen the investigation into Aizen's conspirators a few days ago. He suspects you, even though Taichou worked so hard to erase any evidence... I wouldn't put it past the old man to have you arrested with or without proof."
"Tch, let him try." Ichigo glared ahead as he walked with his friend towards Division Six.
His concern growing more pronounced, Renji rested a hand on the strawberry's shoulder, "Ichigo... Be careful. Between you and me, I think Kuchiki Taichou's presence was the only thing stopping Yamamoto arresting you from the start."
Tensing, the Third Seat let out a long breath, "I'll watch my back, but... I can't believe he'd just let Byakuya rot there."
"I know, I can't say I'm happy about it." The redhead heaved a loud sigh, "If it's any comfort, only Division Two and Twelve are actually in agreement with Yamamoto's decision. Everyone else is in as much uproar as you are, only they're better at hiding it."
"There's a certain irony to that, you know?"
"I know. Who'd have thought you'd end up being the emotionally compromised one?" Renji's teasing was something of a comfort, but not much, the man's smile dropped away after a moment, "Why do you think Aizen wants Kuchiki Taichou?"
"I really wouldn't want to guess, but..." Ichigo sighed, coming to a stop outside of his private quarters, "But... If I had to guess... He's bait."
"Bait? For who... Oh..." There was a gulping sound from the Fukutaichou, "Aizen sure knows how to exploit a weak spot, huh?"
"Oh, believe me, I don't think there's a better manipulator out there." Ichigo folded his arms and glared up at the sun, "If anyone knows that... It'd be me."
"Don't beat yourself up about it, you saw the light in the end." Renji patted his shoulder affectionately and offered a weak smile, "We'll work something out, Ichigo, I promise. For now... Just... Try and get some rest, they hit you pretty hard in Rukongai."
He gave a non-committal grunt and let himself into his room, shutting the door a little harder than needed before he locked it and trudged into the bedroom. He threw himself down on the soft bedding and stared up at the ceiling with a scowl fixed in place.
His fingers silently danced over the muscle deep bruise around his throat, Ulquiorra had marked him, and Shiro's regenerative abilities hadn't been able to remove the ugly black and blue brand. It was probably a reminder to show which one of them was really stronger. It made him wonder just how much Aizen's Espada knew about him.
Ulquiorra had tried to kill him in the past, a case of mistaken identity in a bid to assassinate Byakuya, but there had been a certain amount of genuine toxicity in those dispassionate eyes in Karakura town. The hatred he recalled seeing made him wonder just how genuine that mistaken identity had been. After all, just because he had been kept in the dark about the Espada didn't mean it worked both ways. Grimmjow could have provided them with all the information they needed, even if Aizen had kept it a secret.
Rolling onto his side, Ichigo felt his heart aching. His fingers clutched tightly at his shihakusho as he felt his body quiver. He wasn't afraid of Ulquiorra. He wasn't afraid of Grimmjow or Nnoitra either. But he did fear what Aizen might have in store for Byakuya. There was so much bad blood there, and he knew better than anyone how cruel Aizen could be. He could break Byakuya mentally, beyond repair just by using Kyoka Suigetsu against him. Yet, that was nothing compared to what he could do physically.
The strawberry tasted bile as his mind wandered to dark places, the idea of his fiancé being subjected to some of the things Aizen had enjoyed doing to him. He couldn't imagine Byakuya's pride surviving such an encounter.
"I have to do something. I have to!" He sat up, teeth clenched as he glared at where Zangetsu was resting against the wall.
"We are with ya, Aibou, no matter what ya decide." Shiro's voice provided some comfort, if nothing else Ichigo could hear the strain hidden under layers of silvery tones. They were both hurting. Both suffering.
"Follow your instinct, Ichigo." Zangetsu's dulcet tone was far more even, far more restrained than Shiro's was, but the strawberry could tell that the Zanpakutō Spirit also felt the loss of the bright spark in their lives. They all missed Byakuya. They all feared for him, "We will follow you."
Standing suddenly, the strawberry sucked in a shallow breath, "They'll regret making this personal. If it's the last thing I do."
He snatched up the large blade and sheathed it over his back before stalking out of his private quarters. If he could just reach the Senkaimon, he could get to Karakura town. If he reached Karakura town, he could find Urahara and maybe discover a way to Hueco Mundo. Urahara was the only person he could rely on for such a mission. Division Twelve would never help him without Yamamoto's permission. Division Twelve wasn't safe for him anyway, he had felt Kurotsuchi's eyes burning into him, longing to dissect, to investigate, to understand.
He headed straight for the main Senkaimon in and out of Seireitei, if he was quick he could slip through without drawing any attention to himself. Ichigo swore under his breath as he saw an abundance of additional security surrounding the portal, it wasn't surprising really given the recent infiltration of two Espada.
Watching carefully to see if there was a pattern to the movement of the patrolling guards, he shot forwards at the very last moment available to him. His breath hitched as his path to the Senkaimon was blocked almost immediately, skidding as he took a hasty step backwards at the sight of dozens of men and women garbed in skin tight black uniforms surrounded him. The Stealth Force.
He recoiled, sucking in a sharp breath as tension coiled in the pit of his gut. How had they known to be there?!
"Ichigo Kurosaki!" Soi-Fon appeared in front of him, her Shunpo was as fast as the rumours suggested.
Clenching his teeth, Ichigo felt his jaw click as he sucked in a breath, "Soi-Fon Taichou."
"By order of the Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto, I hereby place you under arrest. You will surrender your Zanpakutō and come with us willingly, or we will take you by force." Her expression was as cold as ice and her tone more cutting than any blade.
His mouth fell open at her words, Renji had warned him of Yamamoto's suspicions but he hadn't expected it to actually come to pass, especially not this soon, forcing himself to straighten he looked down at her, "What are the grounds of my arrest?"
As the woman produced a thick pair of reiatsu suppressant shackles from within her uniform, she offered a mean smile, "Aside from the direct dereliction of your assigned duties, refusal to comply with orders given and your unwieldy Hollow side? You are suspected of aiding and abetting Sōsuke Aizen, murdering the previous Third Seat of Division Six, plotting the defeat of the Goeti Thirteen and providing top secret information to the enemy. You need not state your guilt or innocence here and now, you will be given such a chance when you are brought before the Sou-Taichou for judgement, in lieu of the current lack of Central 46's guidance."
Taking a step back as she approached him, his throat constricted tightly as the feeling of entrapment washed over him. The accusations were so specific. Too specific. Almost as if someone had given her everything she needed to know. A traitor? Not one of his friends, he knew they'd never betray him.
"Soi-Fon Taichou... Please do not do this." He said tersely, his voice shaking very slightly as he looked over her shoulder towards the Senkaimon, his expression turning angry as he watched the large doors seal shut over it, "I have to go to Hueco Mundo! Someone has to rescue Byakuya!"
"Don't make this harder than it needs to be, Kurosaki." One of her hands was on the hilt of her Zanpakutō, "Surrender, or face the fury of the Stealth Force."
He hissed in frustration, taking another step back as she continued to stride towards him. He couldn't afford an all out fight with the Stealth Force and their commander. Even on the off chance that he was capable of defeating them it would only add to his charges, it would only worsen his guilt.
If there really was someone in Soul Society with information on his previous affiliation then he'd be in danger no matter what. He needed to figure out who it was, he had to cover his back. If there was someone out there capable of digging up information hidden by Yoruichi of all people... They were dangerous.
Scowling deeply as he let out a long breath, Ichigo reluctantly held his hands out to Soi-Fon. Almost immediately he felt the cold metal hit his skin, sapping his reiatsu, weakening him as they were snapped shut around his wrists. He emitted a growl as the small woman yanked his Zanpakutō free from its sheath, giving her a chilling look.
"You've made a wise decision, Kurosaki. Fighting us would have made your situation far worse." She looked smug as she passed Zangetsu off to another Shinigami, snapping her fingers, "Take him to the barracks. We will take him to the Sou-Taichou once his meetings have concluded."
"You're making a big mistake, Soi-Fon." He growled, snarling as his shoulders were grabbed by two of her subordinates, "A big mistake."
"We shall see, Kurosaki. We shall see." Was all she said as he was dragged away.
The sudden illumination of blinding light entering the room as the door swung open made Byakuya's eyes burn in their sockets, despite his attempts to blot it out by turning his head away. The sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention and he forced himself to glare up at the dark haired Espada.
Ulquiorra, his... Keeper.
He had lost track of time while imprisoned in his room, bland and white as it was, with bare minimal furniture – a couch and a rug. The Kuchiki heir had spent the last however long it had been, with his wrists bound in reiatsu suppressant shackles two sizes too tight attached to a long chain that had been hammered into the wall.
It had been years since his reiatsu had been repressed, in fact the last time he could recall had been during his training with Yoruichi. They had both worn bangles to limit their power, putting them on a more even footing. At least those restraints had been on his terms, rather than the chaffing irritation he now experienced.
Groaning silently as he shifted, Byakuya felt a deep set ache running through his entire body. The food he had been provided was scarce, minimal, enough to prevent the onset of starvation. But it was good for little else, tasting like wallpaper paste with a similar appearance.
Ulquiorra was not the best at maintaining the health of those under his care it seemed, as despite the length of chain allowing him to reach the bathroom to relieve himself the Kuchiki heir was unable to wash or clean himself properly. His hair which he usually took so much pride in hung limply, was matted beneath his kenseikan, and barely concealed the spattering of colourful bruises Nnoitra had inflicted when he'd tried to fight back. His shihakusho was tattered and torn, his tekkō had been disposed off during the journey though the Garganta. He was a shadow of his former self, and they both knew it.
Forcing himself not to flinch as Ulquiorra's foot nudged against the tray of untouched food resting on the floor, Byakuya glowered up at him as the dark haired Espada spoke, "You have few requirements to fulfil while you are here, eating is one of them. If you do not eat willingly, I shall have to force it down your throat."
"I will not eat slop." He growled out, "If you wish for me to fulfil my requirements provide me with better."
Ulquiorra seemed to appraise him for a long moment before he gripped the nobleman's face firmly in one hand, squeezing to the point of causing physical pain as he prised his lips apart, "I am not to be trifled with, especially not by the likes of trash such as yourself."
"It is hard not to remember you slumped on the floor in a pool of your own blood after Ichigo bested you in Karakura town." Byakuya gasped out, releasing the smallest whine as the grip merely tightened.
The dark haired Espada stooped, his hand sliding through the porridge-like swill, scooping some up before he thrusted his fingers down the Kuchiki heir's throat. Byakuya's eyes widened only slightly, he was determined not to show fear to the monster before him, but his eyes began to water against his will as he began to gag both at the foul taste of the food and the feeling of fingers sliding too far down against his tongue.
"Your..." Ulquiorra seemed to search for a fitting word, his upper lip curling in distaste, "Precious Kurosaki caught me by surprise that day. I assure you, the next time I see him I will break him. Trash has no place in Las Noches. Trash has no place at Aizen-sama's side. I will be dead before I let that happen."
Byakuya fell forwards, coughing and retching as he was released without warning, digging his nails into the floor beneath him as anger surged at the Arrancar's words, "If you think you can best him you're more foolish than you seem."
The slap was hard as it connected, Byakuya's face burned white hot but cold in the same second, he felt blood trickle down his chin from the new split in his lip. He forced his head up, a malicious scowl aimed at his dark haired oppressor. He would not be intimidated. He would not surrender to the pangs of fear rising in his belly. He would not become a muted plaything for a creature with mere dregs of Shinigami power making him somewhat more than the run of the mill Hollow worms he dispatched on a daily basis.
Ulquiorra's finger crooked around the chain linking his shackles together and dragged him to his feet, the nobleman held his gaze with subdued fury, "You're brave... Or foolish to refuse to relent in the face of overwhelming odds. Is it because you believe there is a chance of escape? Of rescue?" The Espada's fingers snaked forwards, resting over the Shinigami's heart, "Perhaps you think your precious Kurosaki will charge into Hueco Mundo, into Las Noches and win your freedom."
"On the contrary, Ulquiorra Cifer," his jaw tightened, "It is the very fact that Ichigo would never be foolish enough to risk coming here that gives me hope."
"Hope." Green eyes narrowed, "Hope in place of despair. Love in place of hate. Connections in place of solitude. Emotions in place of emptiness. It is what makes you weak."
"Hope is what makes me strong." He argued.
"You have been here for three days, and three nights with no sign of a cavalry to rescue you. You have no hope left."
They seemed to come to a stalemate, staring at each other, barely moving besides drawing breath. Byakuya could feel weariness washing over him every second he was in the man's presence, but he would never allow it to show. He had been trained for hostage situations as a child, there had been many who wished harm upon the heir of the Kuchiki Clan. It had been just another part of growing up. And the main thing he remembered with the most clarity, was never to show weakness.
"Aizen-sama has requested your presence in the King's Suite." The green eyed Hollow said suddenly, as if remembering the very reason for his visit to the room.
Byakuya watched as he was freed from the wall, the Espada never once releasing his grasp on the chain between his wrists, he hissed as he was dragged along after him. The stinging pain which shot through his already sore skin forced him to conceal a wince as he was guided down a labyrinth of pearl white corridors. How anyone could navigate it without getting lost was beyond him, he tried in vain to memorise the route back to his room, but failed miserably. Everything looked alike.
He wasn't sure how long they were walking for, but it felt like a ridiculously long amount of time. The Division Six Taichou had no idea how big the palace was as the Garganta he had been brought through had opened up inside a grand hall. Yet if the high ceilings and absurd maze of hallways were to be believed it seemed perfectly possible for the building to rival the size of Seireitei. He balked at the idea of how many Hollows Aizen could be storing inside these white walls.
"Whatcha got there Ulquiorra?"
Byakuya's spine tingled at the familiar voice, his gut clenching as he looked over his shoulder and met the inquisitive blue gaze he had expected.
"Nothing which concerns you, Grimmjow." Ulquiorra's voice was strained, his face betraying a hint of annoyance.
"Holy shit! That's Byakuya Kuchiki!" The blue haired Arrancar who'd had so much audacity to hide in Soul Society, strode forwards with a prowl, "So this is who you had tucked away. I'd heard Aizen wanted someone snatched but... This is a surprise!"
"That is Aizen-sama to the likes of you, Sexta." Green eyes narrowed, "Return to your quarters, I am on duty."
Grimmjow's eyes were tracing the bruises on Byakuya's face, the cut on his lip, the sickly pallid look of his skin. Particular attention was paid to the flesh over the nobleman's heart, where not long ago Ulquiorra had rested his hand. As far as Byakuya was aware there was no mark there. While the Arrancar's expression gave nothing away, the nobleman couldn't help but wonder why there was such tension between the two men. It was palpable.
"Gotta say, you ain't been takin' very good care of him... Have you?" Blue eyes were like slits as he appraised the dark haired Hollow, "Doubt Aizen will be impressed."
"Return. To. Your. Quarters."
For a moment, Byakuya was confident that the two Espada were going to come to blows. The hostility between them was terrifying, it left his mouth dry with anxiety. But then, as if becoming bored with the entire ordeal, Grimmjow held his hands up and backed away.
"Whatever you say, Cuatro." Without another word, Grimmjow turned on them and disappeared back the way he'd come.
The Kuchiki heir couldn't help but feel like that wasn't Grimmjow's normal behaviour. He recalled some of the man's time in Soul Society, he'd been obnoxious; violent; aggressive and rude. He couldn't imagine a man like that backing down to anyone.
"Come." Ulquiorra gave a sharp yank on the shackles.
They walked a little further before a set of vast set of double doors came into sight, they reached from the floor to the ceiling and when they arrived before them, Ulquiorra rapped courteously against the marble-like material, "I have brought the Shinigami to you as requested, Aizen-sama. I am coming in."
The smaller built man pushed one of the doors open, shoving the noble inside roughly. Byakuya blinked through the dim lighting of the room as he was guided deeper. It was vast and aptly named, for it seemed filled to the brim with lavish furnishings – several couches, rugs, coffee tables, lights, candles, bookshelves and so much more. Byakuya could see three doors spattered off to the right hand side, all of them open. One seemed to show a basic kitchen while another revealed a bathroom. Finally a shorter set of double doors were parted enough to see the imperial sized bed beyond.
Aizen was stood out on the veranda, just beyond a set of glass doors, staring out over the white sands of Hueco Mundo. He turned as he heard them grow closer, and offered his subordinate a smile.
"Thank you, Ulquiorra, you are dismissed. I will handle things from here." Aizen waited for the doors to the King's Suite to close before he swept down the two small steps leading back into the room, stopping only when he came within touching distance of the Kuchiki heir.
Clenching his hand into a fist as he remembered the last time he'd seen the brunet, Byakuya lifted his head and refused to be intimidated even as every muscle in his body protested, "What do you want with me?" He was proud when his voice didn't quiver.
Reaching out, Aizen fingered a few locks of his mistreated hair, apparently thoughtful, "With you? Nothing at all."
"Then I was correct in my thoughts, you wish to use me as bait." His teeth met in an angry snap at the idea.
"As intelligent as ever, Kuchiki Taichou." He almost looked amused, "Ichigo... He will try to save you, just as he did on Sôkyoku Hill, of that I have no doubts. And when he does... He will hear the song of the Sands, just like every Hollow before him."
Byakuya's eyes narrowed, "I see. Your hopes are that once Ichigo is here in Hueco Mundo, he will succumb to the power of his Inner Hollow. The Hollow who is incapable of refusing your commands and orders. His nature will surface and he will return to your side, no matter how hard either of them fight against it."
Chocolate eyes almost warmed for a moment before they chilled again, "I see you have learned much of the Hollow which resides within him. I'm impressed."
"Yes... We've met." He muttered, he held no venom towards the Hollow but the idea that his very existence could be their downfall was bittersweet, "Why now? You've had months since Sôkyoku to make your move."
"You were not engaged months ago." Was the simple reply, Aizen's thumb and forefinger pinching the noble's chin as he seemed to examine his injuries.
The raven haired Shinigami tensed, "How did you-"
"For the very same reason that two of my Espada were able to open a Garganta in the middle of Rukongai." Aizen's smile turned dangerously amused.
"You have another insider." Byakuya breathed, eyebrows knitting together furiously as he immediately tried to work out who, why and where, "You set all this up... To stop us getting married. You are pathetic, Sōsuke Aizen."
"Pathetic is clinging to something that was never yours to begin with." A smooth yet cold reply, the pinch of his fingers tightening slightly, "Ichigo was never yours... He never will be."
"He isn't a possession you can lay claim to!" He snapped, eyes burning with anger, "He is a living breathing person who can make his own choices!"
"No matter how many of his choices lead him away from me and where he truly belongs, Ichigo will always find his way back." Aizen breathed, "You understand why, do you not?"
Byakuya felt a shiver creep down his spine at the question. There were at least a dozen reasons why Aizen was entirely correct in his assessment, many of which he'd heard Ichigo talk about himself. But there were just as many reasons for the sunset haired Shinigami to resist.
"Your hold on him will not last forever." The raven haired Shinigami breathed, "Ichigo grows stronger every single day, his potential is limitless. He can free himself from you, of that I have no doubt." He growled out.
"We shall see. If you think your... Relationship will be enough to stop him swaying you know him even less than you think."
"Why can't you accept that he doesn't want you?!" Byakuya barked suddenly, "From the way you talk about him it's like you're in love with him!"
Aizen's reiatsu hit him like a tsunami, crushing him, forcing him to his knees. And yet the brunet barely looked perturbed by it. Just how strong was he really? All pretence of kindness was gone now, the brunet's expression was set like ice but twice as cold.
"It seems to me that Ulquiorra has been doing a poor job of attending to your needs, having you die before Ichigo returns to me would be detrimental. My Head Scientist will tend to your injuries." Aizen turned his back, "I suggest you get used to Las Noches, Byakuya Kuchiki. You will not be seeing Soul Society again."
Panting and gasping as the pressure lifted enough for him to stagger to his feet, Byakuya felt sweat running down his chest, eyes wide as he stared at the brunet, his heart trembling in a momentary surge of clarity, "After everything... You've put him through and... Everything you still plan to do... You actually are in love with him... Aren't you?"
Pausing at the question, Aizen quirked an eyebrow and clasped his hands behind his back, "Love is for children's stories, it has no place in the real world. But... Like a moth to a flame I do find myself drawn in, ever closer, unable to look away. Even at the risk of getting burnt by his fire."
"You son-of-a-bitch..." The Taichou let out a disgusted breath, "After everything... All the pain you caused! The manipulation, the control... You fucking bastard! I hope you do get burnt!"
Byakuya lunged at the man, he wasn't sure why or what his plan was but his childhood rage was rearing its ugly head. He wanted to hurt Aizen, to show him at least a fragment of what he'd inflicted on Ichigo. Anything was go enough. A slap, a punch, a righteous kick in the balls.
Strong arms wrapped around him without warning, lifting him off his feet. Byakuya snarled and writhed, wriggling furiously to break free.
"I will summon you when something arises which requires your presence, until then... Do try not to cause my Espada any problems. Despite my orders, I doubt they would hesitate to kill you if you push them too far."
Dragged from the King's Suite while still putting up a struggle, Byakuya found his energy quickly draining until all he could do was slacken in the grasp of his new handler. He glowered up at the man. He was tall and lean, with baby pink hair and glittering whiskey coloured eyes that were barely concealed behind the bony glasses he wore. There was something unsettling about the smile on his wide lips, something that made the noble want to shrink away.
"My name is Szayelapporo Granz." The pink haired Arrancar said suddenly, breaking the murderous tension between them as he carried the Shinigami into what appeared to be a laboratory of some kind, "But you may call me Szayel. You will have to forgive my manners, I do not make a habit of manhandling everyone I newly meet."
His primary instincts were to make a verbal swipe at the man, but Byakuya couldn't help but remember his manners and his training, instead replying in a tight voice, "Division Six Taichou, Byakuya Kuchiki."
"Oh I know who you are." There was an amused edge to the Arrancar's tone as he set the noble down on one of the many beds neatly tucked against one of the far walls, "My goodness... It seems to me that Ulquiorra has been frightful in his treatment towards you. Aizen-sama has instructed me to see to healing your wounds and seeing to your immediate welfare."
Byakuya stayed quiet, watching as the man snapped on a pair of latex gloves and pulled a silver tray towards the bedside, equipped with what looked like antiseptic fluid and cotton balls. He couldn't help but feel his stomach churn at the idea of being touched by the Hollow.
"Now, I'd like to assure you that I am in no way a fiend like our dearly dismal Cuatro Espada, and so I would like to ask if you are quite prepared for me to deal with these nasty looking cuts and bruises." The pink haired man smiled widely at him again, fingers interlocked on the side of the bed.
Despite every instinct screaming no, the nobleman nodded once, "I... Appreciate your willingness to treat me, Szayel-san."
"Willingness?" A subtle blink and a soft chuckle, "I fear willingness has very little to do with it. No one refuses an order from Aizen-sama if they desire to have their head remain attached to their shoulders, as you will soon learn for yourself, I have no doubt."
"I did get that impression." He muttered, wincing as he felt cotton soft material brushing over his bruises with a careful hand he would never have expected a Hollow to possess.
"But you knew him before all this, it must be strange for you..." Szayel murmured under his breath, "Grimmjow, another frightful savage among our numbers sadly, told us that you were among the only Shinigami to realise Aizen-sama was deceiving Soul Society. I must confess, I find such perception awfully scary. How ever did you keep a straight face around him?"
Closing his eyes as he let the man work, Byakuya sighed softly, "As heir to a noble Clan I went through in depth training throughout my childhood, I can only assume it was due to that very training I realised something was amiss. There comes a time when kind smiles seem a little too kind, and generous offers seem just a little too generous."
"I know exactly what you mean." If the paused movement of the cotton ball was to be believed, perhaps Szayel did understand.
When his facial injuries had been tended to, Szayel gave him a thorough check over. Apparently, he had a bruised rib and needed some decent food in his system to help him heal faster. Byakuya had already concluded by the time the physical examination was over, that Szayelapporo Granz was a narcissist, a perfectionist, vain and borderline clinically insane. And yet he was adept at his work and had better manners than most of the other Arrancar he had ever encountered.
A small huff had Byakuya opening his eyes, he watched as the pink haired man peeled his gloves off and disposed of them moodily, "Is everything alright?" He inquired.
"I have treated what I can, but I refuse to sit here a moment longer while you look and smell like the contents of a sewer. Just what has Ulquiorra been doing to you anyway? It is simply disgraceful to have allowed a guest to get into such poor state."
"I apologise," the nobleman said amicably, "As you have noted, I have been fed and watered, to a degree, but little else."
Whiskey coloured eyes fixed on his steel grey ones for a moment before the Hollow rested a hand on his arm, "Oh it's not your fault, I'm sure. Ulquiorra is little more than an animal towards those he looks down upon. Which is everyone, by the way. I have a bathroom adjacent to my office, I shall allow you to use it so you can clean yourself up. I am certain I can find some clothes which would fit you appropriately."
Byakuya didn't trust the man's smile at all, nor the overly friendly physical contact, but at present he had little option other than to comply, "Thank you, that would be most satisfactory."
His shackles were unclipped from one and other to give him some freedom, and he was guided into the bathroom. The room was huge, with a shower large enough to fit at least three people inside; given the rather lecherous attitude of the scientist, Byakuya was left pondering if the space was that large for that exact reason.
Hiding a shudder, the nobleman slowly removed the tattered remnants of his uniform, his muscles burned in protest and his eyes felt itchy from tiredness, but he refused to allow himself to crumble in the dragon's den. The only comfort came from seeing that his family scarf and kenseikan were intact and undamaged.
Showering helped a little, at the very least he felt more alive once the grime and sweat was washed from his skin. He felt more like himself once his hair was clean and the shame of his capture was washed away down the plug.
He still felt weak, discontent running through him as he gave some time to properly inspecting the reiatsu suppressant shackles, they were well made, resembling sekkiseki stone in texture and colour, though he was certain its properties differed. He came to the conclusion the shackles could only be removed by an outside force, his own strength would do little, aside from irritating his already sore skin.
Stepping out of the shower, he gave a small thankful prayer that his body was responding to commands a little more than it had done before. He let out a breath, drying himself with a fluffy pink towel that had hung near the door, Byakuya's cheeks warmed slightly as his gaze fell upon the pile of folded clothes on the counter and he realised that the scientist had entered the bathroom while he had been washing.
A quick look at the glass shower partition confirmed that very little of his modesty was intact and he clenched his teeth, the knowledge that someone other than his fiancé had been given the chance to roam his body with their eyes made his skin crawl. It was all he could do to prevent himself getting back in the shower to cleanse away his embarrassment and anger.
The clothing he had been given was abundantly white, and he began to wonder if Aizen viewed his Espada as some kind of angelic force, to be clad in such pure colours. It was fitting, in a twisted sense, a man with a God complex ruling over an army of powerful devils all dressed in billowing white robes as if descending from the heavens. Yes, how very Aizen.
Heaving a sigh, he pulled on the offending articles, pleased at the very least that it wasn't so different from his usual attire. White hakama and shihakusho bound around the waist by a black sash. He found himself growling as he was forced to put his kenseikan back into his hair. It was a fight he wasn't sure he was going to win, one handed it was almost impossible to accomplish, but he would never allow himself to ask the insane scientist to assist him with it, his pride would surely have shrivelled up and died for even considering it.
Jaw set firmly, the noble glowered at his reflection, his face was a bit gaunt and his cheekbones were protruding just a little too much for comfort, he was paler than normal but with an unhealthy shadow to it that distracted from a lot of his usual attraction. At the very least, the fire had returned to his eyes.
"Ichigo... Don't you dare come after me." He breathed, "Don't you dare."
