Sacrament
Episode Two: Gore List
"Never let the hand you hold, hold you down." ~Author Unknown
Aizen looked at the list. It had 21 names on it written in dark, blood red letters. It was a beautiful list made with Scottish calligraphy.
"Are you happy with the list, Lord Yamamoto?" Aizen asked, a snake-like grin graced his lips. He handed the list to Lorn's Lord and Chief Elder. The Lord glanced at it briefly, scanning the names. He stroked his long white beard for a moment in thought.
"Only seven men died this year, Aizen?"
"Quite true, My Lord. We had a very peaceful year. Five of the deaths were from old age. One death was caused by a fight in Urahara's Tavern and the other died from Pneumonia." Aizen said.
"Very good, Aizen. I am pleased with the list." Yamamoto sighed. "Except one detail." He stroked his ribboned beard once more and leaned forward on his throne to view the list more clearly.
"My Lord?" Aizen knit his brows together in mock confusion but the snake-like grin never left his face. He knew what Yamamoto was going to ask him before the idea even popped in the old man's head. Aizen just had that kind of cunning intuition.
"Hisana Kuchiki… I know her suspicion for practicing black magic is great, and she is indeed beautiful… but she is from a titled family! Her husband is a Duke, for Christ's sake. Must is be her?" The old man leaned back in his chair again, tired from his outburst.
"A very good question, My Lord," Aizen walked behind Yamamoto and placed a hand on the back of the old man's throne. "But she is not a Duchess by blood, only marriage. And I have four sources confirming her practices of black magic. She must be the first to die. She is the obvious choice, My Lord."
Yamamoto inhaled. "You're right. But this might displease the Duke Kuchiki."
"Oh, My Lord, we both know Kuchiki's have no heart." Aizen whispered in his master's ear. "He won't even bat an eyelash."
Rukia's heart was pounding so hard she thought it might fall out of her chest and be crushed under her feet. Her arms pumped harder and harder. Her breathing became deep and raged. Rukia thought she heard another set of footsteps behind her but passed it off as her own paranoid imagination. She stopped to catch her breath under a tall willow tree. The leaves of the willow offered a very comfortable shade against the rising sun. Even though the summer was fading into fall in Lorn, the sun's rays were hot enough to catch Rukia's attention. She sat down below the wonderful shade of the willow and let the chilly dirt cool down her legs and bottom.
It was in that moment that she permitted herself cry. Her indigo eyes welled up with tears before they finally spilled over her pale cheeks. No one is allowed to see Rukia Kuchiki cry, so it was a good thing nobody could see her.
At least… she thought no one could.
Ichigo watched the sobbing girl from behind a large rock downhill from the big willow tree. Her big violet eyes grew watery and spilled over her tear ducts like an elegant cascade. Seeing her in such a state made something in his heart pinch. He wanted to reach out to her, call her name, tell her everything would be okay, even if it wouldn't. Ichigo wanted to be her friend.
But there he sat. Cowardly. Crouched in the dirt and moss like a mushroom waiting to be trampled on.
"Come on, Ichigo…" He told himself. "Just stand up and offer to take her home." He was about to do it. He was so close. But hearing her wail once more made him reconsider. Wouldn't he be the last person Rukia wanted to see? A pig-headed male who could have been responsible for Hisana's death if he was old enough to be on the Elder's Council.
Although Ichigo thought the October 31st Sacrifice was malicious and cruel, he could not speak out against his own society. No, he was brought up to obey law. And the law was to sacrifice women every year.
But God, her eyes were shining. He just couldn't stand it anymore. Ichigo puffed out his chest, took a deep breath and stood from his hiding place; completely exposing himself to the girl he thought was so lovely.
Rukia's cries ceased immediately.
"Why the hell are you following me, boy?" Rukia wiping her nose quickly, her gaze tore away from him in shame.
"I… uh," Ichigo stammered and ran a hand through his orange locks. "I wanted to walk you home. You know, to make sure you got there safely… or whatever." A ruddy blush heated the boy's cheeks.
"Thank you, but no thank you." Rukia got up from the ground deliberately, brushing dirt off her bum. "I don't need a man's help." She turned and walked away from the dumbstruck redhead.
"Oh, common." Ichigo caught up to the midnight haired beauty in a few long strides. "I know what it feels like. To lose a mom, I mean." Ichigo's eyebrows shot up at the sudden proclamation. Why is he suddenly puking his heart out over this girl? All his inner thoughts, however, cut off when he saw Rukia flinch in pain.
"You talk as if she's already dead." Rukia whispers, hugging her arms around herself.
Ichigo mentally slapped himself for being so idiotic. "I'm sorry." The boy reached to grab the girl's hand and took hold of it. She jumped at the touch but allowed the dough of her palm to mold into his. She needed some physical comfort right now.
The woods started to clear, the ring of trees becoming less dense. The view of Lorn broke over the hilltop. A few miles away, past the smoking wooden cottages and, in Rukia's case, a massive stone estate, there was the castle where Yamamoto, Aizen, and The Court lived. It was a colossal building made of marble, surrounded by splendid gardens and a vast courtyard in the front. In the middle of that courtyard there was a huge bonfire which was being lit with torches and oil.
At the sight of the rising smoke from the fire, Rukia's eyes began to water again. She didn't want to watch her mother's pale body burn black and fade from her forever. She just couldn't bear it.
"I don't want to go back to the village, Ichigo. Not right now."
"Don't you want to see your mom, before…" Ichigo stopped, not wanting to utter another word.
"No." Rukia said curtly. "I can't… it would be too painful for both of us." Rukia silently wiped a tear away and sniffed. Ichigo understood. He wished it had been that way with his mother. But no, Aizen made him stand in the courtyard. Ichigo was close enough to the fire that he could smell his mother's perfume burn up and become a rancid stench. He would never forget that smell.
"I understand." Ichigo squeezed her hand. "I'll stay here."
"Won't your father be looking for you?" Rukia asked.
"Won't yours?" Ichigo retorted, raising his eyebrows and his voice.
"Of course he will." Rukia said. "I'll take the punishment for my absence later."
Hisana, as directed, wore a plain white dress to her death. She got in a wooden cart of twenty other female sacrifices dressed in white. Some were wailing and weeping, some were clinging to their children's hands between the wooden bars of the cart, and some were stark silent, staring off into space as if their minds and just shut off. Hisana was one of those women, silently walking to the far corner of the cart before it was locked up by a guard. The guard whistled and a mule, which was hooked up to the cart, started walking, pulling the twenty beautiful ladies along with him.
The youngest one, Momo, who was only nineteen, stared at Hisana with her big brown eyes and pulled at her dress sleeve.
"Hisana?" Momo called. The Duchess Kuchiki returned Momo's gaze, preferring not to speak but questioning the young woman with her eyes.
"Are you afraid to die?"
Hisana thought about this deeply. No, she wasn't. If death meant that Rukia would survive for at least one more year, then it was worth it. Hisana shook her head, and Momo looked at the woman with disbelief.
"Why are you not afraid?"
Hisana didn't answer the young girl. She felt that if she opened her mouth to speak her Kuchiki mask would fall and her emotions would be exposed. She would not let the Council of Elders see her fall.
The cart ride was long, but many were thankful for that. Many women in that cart were quite innocent in the Witching category, and were pleading that the Council would realize their mistake and come to fetch them. Their hopes were for nothing, and the cart continued on its way, as planned.
As they rode through the city, many men on the streets would call them nasty names like "whore", "wench" and "witch". Some of the men were even ghastly enough to spit in their direction. The white ladies of the cart said nothing to the men, knowing their place in society as the cart finally reached its destination.
The bonfire.
More ladies started to wail, some were whispering prayers or magical mantras to themselves, and some were still silent, like Hisana Kuchiki. The locked cart was opened a board was placed so that the ladies could step down from the cart, one by one. They filed out into the courtyard, and the guard organized them by age, oldest to youngest. Hisana would be the first to die, Momo would be the last.
Good. Hisana thought to herself. I won't have to watch any of the poor girl's die.
"Ladies!" Aizen yelled from his perch on the castle balcony. He held up the list, then folded it in half, then into fourths. "You are all exquisite suspects of black magic. You are here and now condemned to death on this blessed day of sacrament. May God have mercy on your souls." Aizen let the list fall, starting the sacrifice ritual. As the list of their names burned in the now roaring fire, the ladies were led one by one to their death.
Two guards grabbed hold of Hisana's arms, meaning to lead her, before she gave them a glare that could melt hell.
"I will walk on my own."
The two guards looked at each other but shrugged and walked away, still keeping an eye on Hisana's seductive silhouette in the bathing light of the fire.
Hisana took a big breath, whispered a prayer, and spoke. Her voice was clear, and lovely.
"I love you, Rukia."
She threw herself into the fire.
End of Chapter Two.
A/N: I NEVER THOUGH THIS FIC WOULD GET SO MANY FAVES ALREADY! I LOVE YOU ALL TO DEATH! That's why I'm updating so early…as a gift. (: Please comment! It truly means the world to me and inspires me to write more!