The Brothel House Rules
Disclaimer: You know, if you'd use your imagination a little, you'd realize that I don't own Bleach. I'd like to apply as Kubo's lover though, just to have a part of that juicy thing called property.
Summary: Semi-AU. Aizen betrays Soul Society to become a profitable businessman: A pimp. He then hires the Espada as his prostitutes. What they didn't foresee is that his customers would be none other than his fellow Shinigamis at Gotei 13.
Possible pairings: RenjiXSzayel. IshidaXSzayel. StarkXKyouraku. ByakuyaXRenji. GrimmjowXIchigo. GinXKira. UlquiorraXIchigo. AizenXUlquiorra. HitsugayaXHalibel. ShuuheiXHalibel. Subject to change upon request or whatever.
Chapter I: How the People of Gotei 13 Received the Tragedy
Aizen asked Kaname Tousen to design the pamphlets. He argued that he had no inclination toward art and that he could find no one else more appropriate or well-equipped for the job. That was his excuse. If he realized that Tousen had a congenital eye disease which rendered him blind since birth, he didn't bring it up. Equipped with no means whatsoever to accomplish this dirty job, Tousen did what he did best: He worked on the advertisement campaign in the dark. When it was finished, he showed Aizen a sample of the posters. The background was red and the font was in black. The slogan went like: "Need a ride? Introducing The Arran-cars. Let them take you to Las Noches…" That was smart, Aizen thought as he rubbed his chin and smirked. To top it all off, a picture of a topless teal-haired guy in the showers was inserted behind the text. He had a hole the size of Captain Komamura's fist just a little below the fourth set of his six-pack. And if one took a clearer peek, a partial stroke of black calligraphy that seemed to make up the Number 6 was inked on the right side of his back.
For these vulgar prints to be distributed and dispersed publicly, Aizen needed the master sneak Ichimaru Gin. Gin was expert in creeping into places in the dead of night without making so much as a thud. So on the first night of his duty, there was no spot on the walls in all of Gotei 13 that was left unplastered with these posters. Even so, there was also no trace of the person responsible for such vandalism. It was a huge success.
The first bloke who had the misfortune of feasting his eyes on the fruit of Gin's labor, as luck would provide it, was none other than his former lieutenant. This was because not even the interior walls of the Third Division's office were spared, not even a square inch of it. To those who had the faintest suspicion on the identity of the culprit, it was pretty much clear why this was so. Ichimaru Gin had always had a special fondness in stealing into hardly accessible places undetected, and what with his adeptness at it, one might right away decree the wrongness in the Council 46's decision of assigning someone like Soi Fong as the head of the Assassination Brigade.
Going back to the matter at hand, Kira was not in the least pleased with the new appearance of 'his' office, not knowing that worse was to follow. As the posters were so indecipherable in their multiplicity, Kira determined that he could only read the messages written on them by approaching them. And approach he did. The obscenity of what greeted him was far beyond everything he imagined was possible in the world. The picture of the topless anonymous guy in a striking pose alone was enough to make anyone realize that it was an ad for a whore house. But what offended Kira most of all was the blatancy with which the message was phrased: "Need a ride?" What the hell is the world coming into?
Kira brusquely snatched the poster away to salvage what innocence he had left. Of course, if he had known any better he'd realize well enough that getting accustomed to such sight was the logical thing to do; pretty soon, the poster would find a huge place for itself in the Shinigami everyday speech that one would also have to accustom himself to the sound of "Las Noches". As of press time, however, Izuru Kira was fast on his labor of stripping all thousands of them from the walls. What he didn't realize is that what he was dealing with was merely the tip of this horrible iceberg; outside, thousands and thousands of its copies remained, filling up every square inch of the Soul Society.
In a fillip, pretty much every Shinigami in the Gotei 13 had seen, studied, and secretly become obsessed with the poster and what it meant. Among them, Abarai Renji was very vocal on what he thought about it.
"What the fuck is this?! Who's the immoral lowlife who's responsible for this? I have never, in all my life, encountered something so filthy! And what the hell made them think that we Shinigamis would be interested in whores? Whores, of all fucking creatures! Argh!" Renji wrung his head in morbid hysterics. Beside him, Ichigo was faintly shaking his head.
"I don't know, Renji, but this guy looks pretty okay—"
"What the fuck, Ichigo? This jeopardizes our honor as Shinigamis. They can't expect us to actually consider this, let alone indulge on such debauchery."
"Yeah… I only meant that, yeah! We're too decent for this kind of thing."
"Of course we are, mate."
And yet, neither of them bothered hacking the posters off the walls that surrounded them on all sides. If anything, they continued staring at them with what seemed like a thin trace of drool rolling down their chins.
In the next block, Division Nine was in no less disturbance.
"How cheap. What brothel would choose this mediocre-looking prick as their poster-boy? I mean, I could do better and that's me without artificial hair color. And what's 6 compared to 69?" Hisagi Shuuhei hissed as he eyed the posters with obvious scorn. Behind him, his subordinates nodded their heads in agreement. As far as they could tell, Hisagi Shuuhei would certainly make a better-looking whore than this easy-to-get model Las Noches chose as its cover face.
At the Eight Division, Kyourako was having a warm cup of tea under a cherry blossom. It was such a fine day that was devoid of all annoyances and unnecessary distractions, except for one tiny thing: all hell had broken loose. To start with, Ise Nanao was currently too absorbed with the present calamity that the outrageous posters were supplying that one wrong mention of anything would surely be equivalent to a trip in the morgue. So there she was, working her ass off to contribute to the eradication of the vile posters and sending orders left, right, and center, when his captain, in what appeared like a very bright mood, came toddling over her,
"Nanao-chan, I have something I want you to do for me—"
"—I'm busy, captain."
"Oh no, no; this is something of great importance. I want you to place an order for me at Las Noches. Would you be so kind as to contact them and tell them that I'm willing to pay whatever amount they may wish to offer for a special night with their best employee? And please have them know that I would prefer someone better-looking than this guy. I expect you've seen the posters." The captain says, holding out an unblemished Las Noches poster for his lieutenant's scrutiny.
Nanao, who was actually in the act of collecting the posters, rigorously stripping them off the Eight Division's quarter's walls just a few moments back, threw the stack in her arms at her captain's face. To liken her to a mad bull chasing after a red blanket would have been a grave understatement.
At any rate, no one knew what exactly happened next. Whether Kyouraku got his request or not was anyone's guess. What everyone was sure of was that he wasn't able to attend his slated meeting that night, or got back in hi quarters to sleep.
In yet another next block, Division Four was scouring to conjure order out of the entire mess. They'd succeeded in clearing up a small portion of the Gotei 13's east wing but it required enough manpower to exhaust them even before afternoon ticked off. In Captain Unohana's estimate, it would take them at the very least a month to get rid of all this trash, by which time pretty much everyone in the Gotei 13 would have had the pleasure of visiting Las Noches, whatever and wherever it really was.
The only squad that didn't seem affected in any profound way by the change was that of Zaraki's. Upon marching out of their quarters, the best Kusajishi Yachiru could remark was,
"Wow, Ken-chan, something seems different with the world today."
If Zaraki Kenpachi did notice anything amiss, he certainly did a very good job of walking past each poster without clapping an eye. Whatever was in it wouldn't give him blood anyhow.
Ikkaku and Yumichika, however, missed the entire point.
"What the hell is that?" Yumichika laughed, pointing at the man in the poster. "A drag queen? I would've thought he had more taste in his blood. And look at those eyeshadows! Whoever puts on eyeshadows nowadays?" And he went on to laugh like hell. Beside him, Ikkaku was trembling with irritation at Yumichika's guileless insults, his red eyeshadows growing redder by the second.
And all over the Gotei 13, girls fainted, captains scratched their heads, and Commander Yamamoto despaired in his office. For the first time in his long life, he didn't know what to do.
TBC