"Mere factual innocence is no reason not to carry out a death sentence properly reached."

–Antonin Scalia

Disclaimer: Bleach does not belong to me.

The dim, ominous lighting of the octagonal chamber shone down from above on the center of the room, illuminating the two rows of seats in an eerie fashion. These rows were angled towards the room's center, every seat evenly spaced from one another. Adorning each were rectangular plagues decorated with a single number placed in front of the chairs. The individuals settled behind these veils were masked from the view of all below, obscuring their identities for protection. Among the rows, nearly half of the seats were vacant; void of any presence, leaving large holes in the assembly. Those that were present sat stiffly; not moving a single muscle as they silently watched the being standing before them.

The resounding voice of one of the judges abruptly boomed through the room, "Yamamoto-Soutaichou." There was a slight pause before the wise man continued, "You have been called here to discuss what had transpired two days ago concerning the Substitute Shinigami, Kurosaki Ichigo."

The commander looked up to the judge's position in acknowledgement. They quickly continued.

"Is it true that Kurosaki did, in fact, attack multiple captains with the intent to kill?"

Yamamoto simply nodded his head in answer to the question.

Another oppressive silence fell upon the room. A different judge then began from where the other left off, "The aggressive actions displayed during that time have proved this boy's capability to be a substantial threat to the Gotei and the entire Soul Society. He must be dealt with accordingly or further destruction and death by his hands will undoubtedly ensue."

"Agreed," an anonymous member stated, "Our reports have also uncovered the fact that the substitute has multiple characteristics of a hollow, or, more specifically, a vizard."

The chamber erupted in what could be compared to nearly uncontrolled madness amongst the members. Irrational yells exploded from every council man.

"His kind shouldn't exist!" one yelled in pure rage.

"He must be executed!"

"No, that course of action will not solve our problems. We cannot use that manner of punishment with this case," a stern voice firmly commanded the assembly. Many agitated outbursts came forth from this statement.

"Why can we not get rid of this abomination while we have the chance?"

"Because," the same authoritarian voice proclaimed, "He is still a human."

A harsh reticence followed this revelation. This was the truth. They had no authority or ability to eliminate a living human, whether said being had Shinigami, hollow or both powers at their disposal. They would need to develop a different mandate for this particular situation that did not interfere with the laws already set in place. Somehow, the legislation restricting them would have to be bypassed in order to formulate a solution to this problem appropriately so that it would not become an issue in the future.

"Since it is clear that the execution of this human is not a plausible scenario, I suggest that we place him in a restrictive environment in which he can be carefully observed and monitored while not being able to cause harm or destruction," a meticulously slow voice wisely suggested.

"What type of environment?" another questioned in scrutiny.

"The Muken is an available option."

"Only convicts that have committed irrefutable crimes are sentenced there," a grated voice declared, "When taking into account all that Kurosaki has done for the Soul Society while considering his most recent actions against the Gotei, that seems far too extreme of a punishment."

A man furiously yelled out, "None of that matters! We are discussing that the boy has done now, not what he did in the past."

"But, this substitute has assisted us on multiple occasions. These instances should be examined alongside his current actions despite what others may believe."

"I may be able to present a solution," one member bluntly stated in a very irritating tone, "Give the abomination to Kurotsuchi-taichou." Murmurs once again broke out amidst the council. "Certain cells in the twelfth division department are enforced with sekki-sekki rock and kido, so the accused would not be able to escape if such an act was attempted."

"Is this truly a good choice?" a low baritone announced, "There is the possibility that Kurotsuchi-taichou could dispose of his prisoner unintentionally."

"Although," another started with a thoughtful accent to his voice, "If the twelfth-division captain was placed with the boy's care, then he may be able to examine his condition, thus discovering some way to rid him of the hollow presence that is truly to blame for his destructive actions."

"True, but is that even possible?"

"What other choice do we have?" one intoned heatedly.

"If we let this monster go free or proceed with a different route, then he would be a danger to all residing in the Seireitei. He cannot be allowed to do as he pleases."

"The accused was able to critically wound over three of the Gotei's captains in a matter of minutes before he was stopped. And, that was all without the use of his bankai that our reports detail to be exceedingly formidable in combat. There is no other choice than to give him to the competent hands of Kurotsuchi Mayuri," said a man with a stern, agitated tone of finality.

Once more, silence ensued, disrupted only by the whispers of a select few. All others were quietly mulling over the facts presented to them. Many valid points had been made on both sides of the debated topic. It would go against the laws to kill Ichigo for his crimes and it would be far too dangerous to let him go without doing anything. Therefore, the previous solution offered seemed like the only logical option in this particular situation.

"It is decided then," one of the six judges declared, "The Substitute Shinigami, Kurosaki Ichigo, is hereby condemned to imprisonment in the twelfth division. Kurotsuchi can do with him as he sees fit with the exception of keeping the prisoner alive. Any experiments or procedures of that nature are to be for the sole purpose of finding any mans of extracting the hollow presence."

The attention was again directed towards the bearded individual in the center of the room. "Yamamoto-Soutaichou," the same judge pronounced, "You are to carry out these orders and inform Kurosaki that his crimes of attacking multiple captain of the Seireitei, possessing hollow powers and threatening the peace of the Soul Society have condemned him to his declared fate. Have him transported immediately to this new location in the twelfth."

"It will be done," Yamamoto agreed, inclining his head slightly to show his respect. He promptly took his leave after, making his way towards the exit slowly on his way to deliver the sentence Central forty-six had decided upon.

The forth division captain sat quietly at her desk, studying the documents in her hand and the information displayed in the carefully written ink. It detailed the condition of an officer from the eleventh that had been dealt a serious wound to the head from a brawl. He was experiencing a slight case of amnesia, thus the reason for why he was placed in her care. Unohana was currently constructing a rough action plan in her head on how to proceed with his treatment. However, she was interrupted from her thoughts when a member of the Onmitsukido appeared kneeling to her left.

"Unohana-taichou," he started, head lowered with one hand resting on the floor and the other on his knee, "I have urgent orders from Yamamoto-Soutaichou concerning Central forty-six's ruling."

She cautiously set the papers down onto the hard oak desk and looked at the man cloaked in black with a skeptical gaze. "Continue."

"Kurosaki Ichigo is to be transferred into Kurotsuchi-taichou's management effective immediately."

A single second passed without a sound. "What?!" she yelled in shock, "Why would he need to be moved? They should know that he is in no condition to be removed from my care with his condition." Her anger was rising fast and she fought to keep it under control.

"Yes, his current situation has been reviewed, but his transfer takes precedence. The twelfth division has assembled and readied the equipment necessary for his arrival." With that said, the Onmitsukido member shunpoed from the room, leaving Retsu alone in her office.

'What could lead Central forty-six to come to such a conclusion?' she questioned, thoroughly bewildered at their final decree for the young man. After all that he had done for them, all the times he had saved both this realm and his own through his selfless actions. How could they not give him a chance to even explain the reason for why he behaved in such an aggressive, uncharacteristic manner before damning him in such a way?

Unohana leaned forward, resting her elbows heavily on the wood as she covered her face with her hands. This information dramatically changed how she thought things would turn out. Of course she had expected nothing good to come from the ruling, but this… It was maddening. It did not matter to the man that Central forty-six could restrict him since he would only ignore such trivial rules. There was no telling what kind of horrible, excruciating experiments Mayuri would conduct upon him because of his state as a vizard. It was practically common knowledge that Kurotsuchi had been itching to get his hands on one ever since Shinji and his companions had been transformed and banished. The mere thought of what he would do sent shivers down her spine.

She could not let Ichigo suffer that fate… Could she?

She quickly shook her head. No. there must be something she could do to persuade Central forty-six to change their minds; make them see reason. That may work if she were to tell them how-

'Wait. Slow down Retsu. You're getting ahead of yourself. Once they've made a decision, they never change it. Never.' She thought sullenly. After another minute of silent contemplation, the head physician rose from her seat and entered the bustling hallway filled with forth division officers rushing about. She located Isane among the crowd and called the tall woman to her side.

"Isane," Unohana began, "Please gather three seated officers and meet me at Kurosaki-san's room. I have a feeling that this will not go as smoothly as I hope."

"Hai!" Kotetsu said and sped off to another part of the medical facility.

Doors past by on Unohana's left and right as she steadily walked down the hall towards her destination. Finally, she reached the room marked one-hundred and seven in simple, black numbers and she stiffly stood before it, preparing to deliver the news that would ultimately change the teen's life forever. She took a deep breath, placed the familiar smile on her face and opened the door swiftly, entering the room.

Ichigo lay on the white bed, blankly starring up at the ceiling with a dull glaze covering his eyes. He was in the exact same position Unohana had left him in the previous day she had checked on him. His fingers absently played with the hem of the blanket sitting low on his chest as the bloody bandages wrapped around his torso peeked past.

The consistent beeping of the machines next to his nearly motionless body added an eerie quality to the atmosphere in the pale room. But, despite that, he looked somewhat peaceful in this position. It was regrettable that she would have to ruin this.

She made her was to Ichigo's side silently, noticing how he had made no move to acknowledge her presence. He only continued to stare blankly at the plastered ceiling. Unohana had to clear her throat in order to get his attention, "Kurosaki-san?"

The orangette jumped in surprise, eyes immediately coming into focus. He gave a hiss when the wound on his abdomen burst with pain from the movement, quickly dying down to a dull throb. He looked at Unohana hazily before recognizing her.

"Oh, hi," he lamely stated.

"Good evening, Kurosaki-san," she replied with courtesy, "I have something important to discuss with you."

"Alright, shoot." He directed his full attention to her.

The captain took another steady, deep breath before she continued. "Central forty-six have discussed your actions and decided upon the proper course to take for your case."

Ichigo paused briefly before he answered, "They have?" he said with minor hesitance before a questioning gaze overtook his features, "Wait, I thought Aizen killed all the members there?"

"He did," Unohana said with a hint of sadness, "But, since then, we have been slowly reassembling new members to fill the spots of those who have passed. Only half of the positions have been filled so far."

"Huh, makes sense. So, what did they decide?"

Unohana did not respond at first when he asked this, and that caused Ichigo to suddenly develop a deep sense of dread. His stomach felt like it was being frozen in liquid ice as a heavy ball of lead settled in his chest, threatening to drop along with his heart that it grasped with its cold fingers, ensnaring the organ in its vice-like grip. "Unohana-san?" he questioned with unconcealed apprehension.

"You are to be moved into Kurotsuchi-taichou's care and facility effective immediately."

The ball fell along with all his hope. He could not believe it. He refused. This was not – could not – be happening.

"Wh-what do you mean… N-no. You can't send me to that insane nut-head! He'd kill me!" Ichigo practically screamed in protest, his face paling dramatically.

Retsu's head dropped in either sympathy or guilt. "I'm sorry, but that is what has been declared. I must comply with my orders and transfer you."

"I don't care. I won't go!" Each word was pronounced with terrified ferocity. He turned away from her, accidentally ripping the IV out of his arm before trying to scramble away from the captain.

At this moment, Isane, followed by three other officers, rushed into the room. Their appearance only frightened Ichigo more and he hastily struggled to get out of the bed and the ensnaring sheets. However, at Unohana's command, his arms and legs were swiftly restrained before he had the chance to get very far.

"Damn it! Let me go!" he yelled on the verge of hysteria. His struggles continued even as the healers strapped him down with thick leather restraints.

Suddenly, a thick, heavy reiatsu fell upon the room that caused the lower level Shinigami to fall to the floor from the power.

During this occurrence, Unohana was the first to notice a distinct, drastic change in Ichigo's behavior. The instant the reiatsu descended upon the room, his thrashing movements abruptly stopped. He starred ahead with a frozen look of pure terror etched onto his face. Looking closely as the youth's power increased, she saw small strands of black crawling across his left eye. His irises were also rapidly changing from the soft chocolate brown to a piercing amber. The exact same she witnessed starring predatorily at herself and her fellow captains only two nights ago.

"Isane, administer a sedative now!" the captain ordered with the slightest hint of panic. Her lieutenant immediately sprang into action at the command without a word. She grabbed a syringe from her belt already filled to the correct amount for just such an occasion and hastily uncapped it. Forcefully plunging the needle into the substitute's upper arm, she pushed the vial's contents into his flesh and waited for the medicine to take effect.

Mere seconds later, the unyielding pressure finally began to life, allowing those that had fallen to the floor to pick themselves back up, albeit quite frazzled from the short ordeal. Ichigo had become completely limp on the bed, head lolling to the side with his eyes half-lidded and blank.

'Even with such a strong sedative in his system, he still has the strength and will to stay awake,' Unohana thought with solemnity.

For Ichigo, everything he saw was fuzzy, like he was looking through muddy water. His surroundings were blurred and he could not focus on anything, no matter how hard he tried. His limbs felt like impossibly heavy weights were tied to them, restricting him from moving. Vaguely, he could hear jumbled sounds of people talking, but the slurred noises were incomprehensible to his ears.

He suddenly became aware of something touching his chest and arms and soon began to feel someone move his body forward. At least he thought it was forward. Nausea jumped upon him unexpectedly, causing him to force the bile that rose in his throat down.

Unohana looked at the teen in pity as her officers went to work. At least what they had injected him with caused his hollow to abandon of his assault on his body. For the moment at any rate.

The medical officers had successfully moved Ichigo's limp body into a wheelchair. After reattaching his IV, they hung the bags on the hooks of the poll on the back of the chair. He was a truly pathetic sight. The powerful substitute that had on numerous occasions saved the Soul Society from utter annihilation reduced to a weak husk of the man people knew him as, unable to even speak coherently if he wanted to at the moment.

It pained the kind-hearted captain to look at him in such a state.

Once they had him settled properly, they began to carefully wheel him out of the room towards the dreaded facility he was condemned to; where his will would be eradicated.

The metal doors opened to reveal a small, dark, laboratory filled with beakers and other scientific objects or contraptions on nearly every counter. Multiple wires littered the ground, forming a colorful maze of cords that would ensnare unsuspecting victims in its grasp, forcing Unohana and those assisting her to tip-toe around in order to avoid being tripped. The wheels of the chair rolled over them with ease, its occupant completely unconscious now, the sedative in his system doing its job.

The small group safely made their way to the other side of the room where they came to another door. A stale, grungy smell hit their nostril after entering and numerous low, grating moans filled their ears. Occasional screams and inhuman yells punctured the air, provoking some of the officers to jump in fright.

It was never a pleasant experience for any soul to travel through Mayuri's prison cells that housed his most recent experiments.

"Ah, you've arrived," a Shinigami with messy black hair in a white lab coat said from the side by the bars of a cell, "We've been eagerly expecting you all day!" This man sounded far too gleeful for his or anyone else's good.

"If you would allow, I would be most obliged to escort you to the location in which we have prepared for this specimen. Unohana-taichou, you may come with me. The others with you are unnecessary," he stated bluntly, looking at Ichigo hungrily like a lion ready to pounce on an antelope.

With some hesitance, the others departed, leaving Unohana to follow the sketchy man before her alone. She gently pushed her soon to be former patient along, his head swaying slightly from side to side limply.

They continued to walk at a relatively brisk pace. Occasionally, when passing an occupied cell, someone – or, in most cases, something – would grab at the bars and snarl like a wild animal. It was difficult to not show her sympathy for these entities, seeing them reduced to such a feral state. It made her question whether that would be what Ichigo acted like next time she saw him. If she saw him again.

After walking for a solid minute, Unohana noticed that most of the cells they passed were barren. There would be prisoners sprinkled in cells every now and then, but there were more than a few that were empty. Why was that? She had seen on multiple occasions captives being taken into the prison's depths, so there should be more people present than there currently were. Where were all the others?

The only possible reasons for this that came to mind was that Mayuri must have disposed of them seeing no further use for their existence. Or, he had killed them from too much experimentation.

The kind-hearted healer looked at the boy in front of her. He was so vulnerable right now. It was difficult for her to picture him as the monster that had attacked them. Was this to be his fate as well? Viewed as an experiment for the scientists to play and mutilate with how they choose and then thrown away when their interest in him ends?

"Here we are," her guide said in a sing-song voice, bringing Unohana out of her thoughts. She had not even noticed that he had stopped until he spoke. They stood near a cell similar to all the others. Rust lay on the bars surface in a heavy coat with small puddles of muddy water decorating the floor mainly near the entrance.

Gazing deeper into the dark, stagnant depths of the cell, Retsu was able to make out the arsenal of clean machines placed for Ichigo's continued care standing out like a sore thumb in the dingy room. Somehow, despite their presence, she was having a difficult time believing that they would really be of any assistance.

The scientist swiftly took out a set of keys and fingered through them briefly before finding the one he was searching for. He inserted it into the simplistic lock and opened the cell door with a high-pitched squeak. "Right this way please," he said while motioning for Unohana to enter with a wave of his hand.

With uncertain footsteps, she pushed Ichigo inside the small room. It could be no bigger than eight feet on each side; a very limited even for a child to live in. All that was present besides the medical machinery was a small, gray colored bed that looked extremely dirty and worn. The seams on the edges were beginning to unravel, exposing the many springs inside and holes littered its surface. Definitely not the most ideal mattress to be sleeping on. It did not even have a sheet covering it, but instead only a scratchy, thin blanket was found wadded up at the end of the bed that would hardly hold any warmth. Apparently, comfort was not one of the main concerns of this department.

Once she reached the deteriorating bed, Unohana gently lifted Ichigo's form off the wheelchair and placed him on the bed's surface. The metal springs creaked loudly in protest at the added weight, but held firm. With skillful grace, the captain began to hook Ichigo up to the machines at his side which did not even total half of what were present in the room he had at her division.

"Such a unique specimen," the scientist stated, startling the healer slightly. She did not notice him come to her side. She must really be out of it if she was being that absentminded to her surroundings.

"Ah, yes," he said with a fierce grin. He leaned closer to the unconscious teen, arms folded neatly behind his back as observed every detail he could of Ichigo's visage, "This one will definitely please Kurotsuchi-taichou."

He made a slight clicking noise with his tongue before straightening. "You may leave now. We will have everything under control from here on."

Taking one last look at the orange-headed teen, Unohana reluctantly turned towards the open cell door. After she crossed the threshold, she paused, head lowering in shame and shoulders slumping.

"I'm sorry."

Those were the final words she spoke to the substitute who was not even awake to hear them. Her apology fell on painfully deaf ears, making the entire situation that much more agonizing.

The healer walked swiftly back down the hallway, easily remembering the few turns to take. However, her focus was elsewhere. All she could think about was how she had just handed the defenseless substitute to the wolves without protest. She tried to focus on the sound of her footsteps that slapped softly against the hard stone ground, echoing lightly against the walls of the enclosed space as a distraction from her chaotic thoughts. Anything was better than the deed she had just carried out.

It took less than five minutes before Unohana found herself in the linoleum tiled lab. She did not stop though until she reached the door to exit the twelfth division, desperately wanting to escape from the building as quick as possible.

Once she finally arrived outside, the unmoving, bearded figure of Yamamoto greeted her, standing stiffly with wooden cane gripped tightly in hand. He was ominously silent even as Unohana stalked towards him.

The stoic commander gazed at her piercingly, continuing to stay silent. Unohana looked back intensely, not breaking eye contact for a second as she wordlessly told her superior how she truly felt about what had been done. He made no comment.

"I have done as you have requested, sir," she nearly spat the last word out in pure anger. She was so disgusted with what had transpired and what the repercussions of her actions would undoubtedly be.

The Soutaichou nodded once at her words and turned away from Unohana. He then firmly starred at the building housing the accused, slatted eyes opening ever so slightly for him to direct his gaze filled with firing rage at it.

The fourth division captain took this as her cue to leave. She turned on her heel and stalked back to her medical bay, a deep, depressing aura following in her wake like a lingering shadow.

The commander's grip tightened on his cane, the wood creaking in response to the increased pressure. He tensed, whether from anger or another emotion could not be discerned. This was for the best; the only decision that was logical given the situation presented. Despite everything, this was the only course of action that could be agreed upon.

Despite everything.

Yamamoto gave a deep, frustrated sigh that rattled in his chest as he eased the near bone crushing grip he had acquired on his trusted cane. In a stiff manner, the old man raised his chin and, similar to his fellow captain, turned his back on the scene.

He walked away, staff clunking on the stone tiles beneath his feet consistently with every two steps.

This was for the best. It had to be.

Right?

The world spun chaotically. Everywhere he looked seemed to be dropped in a swirling vortex. Colors blended and blurred together creating a vibrant, nauseating image. It was as if someone had decided to take the room, stuff it in a washing machine, wring it out and slap it back into place while the colors ran so they could laugh while Ichigo struggled.

God he hated it.

Ichigo held his aching, throbbing head in one hand. The other he used to push himself off of whatever he was laying on, succeeding with shaking limbs to get his torso up. This brought a small smile onto his lips at his achievement, but it was quickly whipped away when his elbow slipped off the edge, causing the rest of his body to unfortunately follow.

The substitute gave a startled cry before it was abruptly cut of when he connected with the hard, jagged ground. Pain erupted from everywhere and he let out a strained moan.

Clutching his now pounding head with both hands, Ichigo stiffly laid on the cold floor, internally debating if he should try to move again despite the pain. Eventually, he made to shift onto his side she a sharp stab of agony attacked his midsection.

Okay, maybe it would be best to stay in this position for a while.

Ichigo continued to lay unmoving on the rough ground. He kept his eyes screwed shut, afraid that whatever distorted mess he was met with would only worsen his already excruciating headache.

Minutes passed that could have easily been hours as far as the orange-headed youth was aware before he gathered the strength and courage to move again. He slowly shifted his body so that he was positioned on his side. From there, he was able to use the edge of the bed as an anchor. With much effort and patience, Ichigo made it to his knees, gasping for breath.

Resting the side of his head on the grungy mattress, he tried to regain his depleted strength. During this time, he decided to take a look at his surroundings now that they had stopped spinning.

He definitely was not in the fourth division as he had originally presumed by the familiar beeping and the presence of the IV in his arm, although that had been yanked out when he had harshly fallen. He was able to see the small puncture mark from where his arm lay, leaking a sizeable amount of blood that was soaking into the dirtied fabric. But that was besides the matter. Instead of being assaulted by the blinding white walked he had grown accustomed to in the medical bay, a stony gray greeted him. Slick, wet rocks made up all sides of the room except for one composed of rusted steel bars narrowly placed next to each other. In the corner was the frail bed he was leaning against along with the machines playing their consistent tunes next to him.

His head slowly lifted as he took in these details with shock. Where was he? Why was he in a cell? What had he done to deserve-

Memories flooded into his mind, recent events settling into their proper places. Everything from when Unohana informed him on what Central forty-six had decreed to when they injected him with something after telling him that they were going to take him to Mayuri.

His eyes widened as he looked frantically around his cell again. If that was the case, then was he really in Kurotsuchi's prison? The breath hitched in his throat. Did they really just give him to the maniac? No, they would not do that, would they?

The evidence was right before him to that question.

Ichigo shivered on the damp floor and he wrapped his arms around his torso for warmth. He felt so cold and… empty inside, like he was missing something. Something important… One hand absently reached behind his back as he thought about this and grasped thin air.

He did not have Zangetsu.

His heart stopped for a brief second at this revelation.

Turning his head around even way possible, he desperately searched for his missing zanpakuto. He even resorted to crawling on his hands and knees to inspect every corner of the petite room. But he had no luck. His sword was missing and he had no idea where it could be. Although, there was one place he had not yet searched.

Outside the bars.

Slowly, he crept towards the rusty metal rods, inching forwards. Once he was directly in front of them, he peeked between the narrow spaces to look into the dark hall. At this angle, he could barely see anything except for the similar cell in front of his own. He grabbed one of the bars and tried to angle his head to see around the corner. At least, that was his plan. As soon as the teen touched the corroded metal, all of the bars began to glow an ominous red before giving him a harsh shock.

He yelped and immediately recoiled, shaking his burnt hand to dismiss the pain. Ichigo gazed warily at the offending wall of poles that had dimmed down to a nearly translucent burgundy coating the surfaces, but did not dissipate completely.

Of course they could place a defensive kido on his cell. They perceived him as a menace already, so why not make it that much more difficult for him?

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Ichigo forced his mind to stop traveling down that line of thought and focus on something else. The perfect example would be how he was going to get out of this mess he was in currently. Eventually, he was able to make his way back to his dirty bed. He was able to slowly ease his body onto the mattress and stiffly sat in the corner. The substitute brought his soaked knees up to his chest and buried his still aching head in his legs, a sudden weakness overtaking him.

This entire situation he was in seemed like a dream, or, more accurately, a horrible nightmare. All the events leading up to this moment were practically a blur, happening so fast he could barely comprehend any of it. He certainly understood to a certain extend why they did some of the things to him such as how they had to wound him in order to stop his rampaging hollow from hurting anyone else. But this? Were they not aware of how the twelfth division captain would treat, or more likely, kill him?

The sound of quick footsteps filled his ears. Two sets coming down the dimly lit hall. Ichigo's anxiety rose, heart quickening with every passing second that the unknown entities got closer and closer to where he was. He tried to hide, make himself smaller on the bed by drawing his legs in tighter than they already were. He was a caged animal, and whoever was walking down that hall was the hunter coming to admire their frightened prize.

A white cloaked figure walked in front of his cell, painted face splitting in a smile of pure glee exposing nearly all of his teeth. Nemu idly stood behind him, holding a silver object that he could not clearly see.

Mayuri brought his long middle finger to the bars of the cell and quickly swung it across in a horizontal sweep. The nail clanged against the metal loudly, eliciting a startled jump out of the occupant within the room.

"Looks like our powerful vizard is really just a scared mouse," Kurotsuchi sneered, eyes alighting with unrestrained hunger.

The mad scientist snapped his head away from his prisoner and towards his obedient lieutenant, "Nemu! Open his cell!"

"Hai," she responded in a monotone mutter before briefly chanting, disengaging the kido. She then took out a key and placed it in the lock, opening the door.

If Ichigo could have, he could have hid under the bed like a little kid hiding from the monsters in their closet.

Mayuri came up next to Ichigo's small bed, his hands folded behind his back, "My, my. You are an interesting one, aren't you? That demonstration you gave to us days ago only let me know that," He leaned in closer and grabbed the top of the teen's orange head, "I had to have you."

Ichigo shuddered before swatting the captain's arms away, narrowing his eyes in hate despite the conflicting fear that was festering just below the surface, "Don't touch me."

Kurotsuchi frowned momentarily before an insane grin broke out on his face again. He roughly grabbed Ichigo's chin, forcing him to look directly into his eyes as the teen attempted to scoot back even further into the wall, "I don't think you understand, boy. I own you now, and you can't do anything about it."

The substitute's eyes filled with fear; pure terror nearly drowning him alive. The captain harshly released his chin, causing Ichigo to fall to his side. He was still very weak; drained of all energy.

"Take the specimen to my private lab, Nemu. We can proceed with the experimentations there in more… solitude."

His lieutenant gave a brief reply of conformation and approached the petrified orangette. She brought the metal object in the hand forward, revealing it to be a medieval looking contraption. Before he had time to blink, the expressionless lieutenant had pinned his arms behind his back. She instantly snapped two metal cuffs onto his wrists and a larger one across his neck that resembled a collar. Identical chains were connected from each wrist to his neck, severely restricting his movements. Once the device was firmly in place, Ichigo felt his reiatsu being constrained, preventing him from retaliating against his captors.

Ichigo was forcefully pulled off the bed by the small woman where he stumbled on his feet to regain his balance. He swayed slightly and would have fallen over without the use of his arms if not for Nemu placing a stabilizing hand on his shoulder. She then began to push him forward, forcing him to stagger out of the cell.

They traveled down the musky hall at a slow pace that Ichigo was barely able to keep up with. They passed by many other cells on their way before exiting the prison area, entering the main corridors of the twelfth division.

Ichigo was sweating bullets by this time and his weakened state was making him constantly trip over his own feet.

"The first test we will perform will be an examination of how your internal structure functions," Mayuri started, a deranged glint sparking in his eyes as he gazed over his shoulder at his prisoner, "Then, we can observe how much your body can tolerate when dealing with pain. I think electrocution would have an interesting result given your physical composition. Although, perhaps testing the effects of different toxins on your systems would yield more intriguing results."

Ichigo's blood ran colder with every word the twisted captain spoke. He was talking about dissecting him?! How was he even going to survive something as horrific as that?

He stumbled over a protruding tile and would have fallen had Nemu not been by his side to catch him. He was forced to keep walking, each step filling him with more dread as ice steadily grew in his chest.

About five minutes passed, during which Kurotsuchi gladly continued to inform his captive on his plans, when the trio reached a steel door. Before opening it, the captain turned towards Ichigo and brandished a wicked sneer that twisted his features.

"This is where all the fun happens," he hissed exuberantly as he opened the door. The sight that met them was something out of a horror movie. Aside from the enormous screens decorating the walls, there were numerous glass containers filled with unidentifiable objects. Some looked suspiciously like human body parts while others simply looked like globs of radioactive goo.

A powerful push forced the youth into the terrifying room where he was practically dragged to a flat steel table with restraints attached to its surface. After his cuffs were released, he was strapped down onto the cold surface by his wrists and ankles.

Ichigo, through the entire process, struggled and screamed as much as possible in his current state. But it did no good. None of his struggles proved to be fruitful and only slightly stalled the inevitable.

After he was securely strapped to the table, Nemu left his side to join her captain at one of the large computers. They began to discuss specifics on the procedures, but Ichigo hastily ignored them. Instead, he looked around the room for some way to escape. There was nothing he could find except for more fear-inducing objects that made him shudder. He was about to abandon his search when white briefly flashed in the corner of his vision.

The substitute quickly snapped his head over to where he saw the bright color and desperately searched for it in the large room. Finally, he spotted it again and what he saw caused him to gasp.

It was Zangetsu. His zanpakuto was right there, in this very room.

And he had no way to reach it.

It was futile. He was a failure. Regret washed over him in a tidal wave. Depression gripped him in its cold, dead grasp. He truly could do nothing. He was utterly alone.

'You will never escape,' the cold voice of his hollow whispered in his mind.

Ichigo, despite how much his instincts screamed at him, listened to the monster instead of shoving him away.

'Did ya really think that they would just free ya after ya practically let me loose?'

'But I didn't-'

'Don't kid yerself, King,' the demon sneered, 'It's all yer fault that ya ended up as a lab rat. It's because yer weak.'

'N-no…'

'Yes,' he hissed, 'Ya are. An' ya know what? That clown ever there is gonna kill ya. He'll rip yer body to shreads and leave nothing but pieces for his lackeys to clean up later.'

Ichigo was silent, absolute chaos running amok in his head. He was so terrified by his predicament that his hollow was actually started to convince him that there was no escape.

He was going to die.

'That's right, King. They're gonna torture ya to the point where ya can't even scream. Cut you open and tear out everythin' that makes ya tick. Then, once ya finally become a borin' piece of trash to them, they'll slit yer throat. You will die,' he whispered with malice lacing each syllable.

The teen was scared to the core and he believed every word.

"Begin the administration, Nemu," the high-pitched voice of Kurotsuchi ordered, snapping Ichigo roughly out of his trace and back to reality.

"Hai, Mayuri-sama," Nemu said and approached the teen's side with a large syringe filled to the brim with a glowing blue liquid.

Ichigo's eyes widened at the site, pupils contracting in fear. He thrashed as much as he could on the metal table, failing to get away from the sharp needle steadily approaching his side.

'I could end all of this,' the hollow purred in his mind, caressing him with the simple thought.

"No, no, no!" Ichigo yelled out loud in response, not taking his eyes off of the syringe.

'That's not yer choice anymore.'

The substitute suddenly ceased his movements, body falling completely still. From the corner of his left eye, a trail of pure black appeared crawling across his sclera.

Outside the twelfth division, a bone-chilling scream pierced the air.

A/N: Hey, long time to see. Hehe… *hides* Please don't kill me! But look! I finally got this story updated after… nine months. *facepalm*

Anyways, sorry to leave you gys on such a cliffhanger there. I can be horrible, I know. Although I am happy to say that I have the rest of this story COMPLETELY planned out already. It will be a total of six chapters so you have that to look forward to!

I hope that I was able to convey Yamamoto's conflicted attitude in this chapter accurately. My goal was to expose his feelings of resentment towards having o do these things to Ichigo who he sees as just a boy still, but he does not want to go against the law of the Central forty-six. He's going through a lot of inner turmoil on the matter.

On a side note, I recently was going over the first chapter for this story as well as some of my other work and I realized that it was completely HORRIBLE! Seriously, I thank whoever favorite or alerted to this story before I edited it because it nearly made my eyes bleed when I reread it. Thankfully it has been edited so if you like, you can go read the newly improved version of the first chapter of both Meetings Gone Wrong or The Woman In Black.

Long author's note is long.

Okay, so the next update for this story I promise will not take me nine months. I'm estimating that I'll have chapter three out in a couple of weeks, but I refuse to set a specific date for when. Just know that you should see the next installment in about three to four weeks. Maybe even faster if a lot of people review! :D

Which brings me to my next subject. Thanks go out to all of those who reviewed for the last chapter! You people are the ones that kept me alive and writing! *hugs* If any of you reading this now would be so kind to leave a review or comment about this chapter, then I would love you forevah!~

I think that's everything I needed to say. So, I look forward to hearing from everyone and I will see you again next time! :3