Unforgiven | By : phoenixreal Category: Bleach > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 1764 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
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Chapter 11
The Messer’s Island and the Hidden Truth
Ulquiorra Cifer sat with an expressionless face as Yuzu undid the braids in his hair so she could start again with a different style. She said something about doing two French braids down each side, and making them one down to the end. His hair wasn’t overly long, but it was perfectly straight and cut evenly. The texture lent to being braided as well. They were sitting in one of the conference rooms, or what Ulquiorra was sure was actually an interrogation room. Yuzu, however, had insisted on staying with him. He didn’t understand why, but he sort of enjoyed the company for once.
“I think green,” she said softly, grabbing her bag and pulling out a bottle of emerald colored nail polish. “What do you think, Ulquie?”
He nodded once and gave her his hand, watching curiously as she applied the nail polish to his long nails. He rarely cut them, to be honest; he just let them grow how they would. He wasn’t one to bother with such things. She finished and sat down beside him.
“Ulquiorra, why did you do the things you did?” she said, looking up, blinking her wide eyes at him.
He tilted his head to the side and blinked for a moment. “I had no other options. I owed Sōsuke Aizen for my life. I only had my skills to repay him with.”
Yuzu looked up at him, staring into his dark green eyes and took his pale hands, the dark green polish bright against his nearly white skin. “You didn’t go outside much,” she muttered, running her fingers over the skin.
“There was no need, I worked in the darkness, and other than that, I was to be unseen, an abomination of the world, to be put away and never seen again,” he spoke slowly, as though the very words were foreign to him.
Yuzu looked up at him, abashed. “Don’t say that, you are beautiful and wonderful!”
Ulquiorra’s brows knitted and his head tilted the opposite direction. “I am a murderer. I have no conscious. No emotion. How can you say such a thing? I’ve been trained to be an assassin since I turned six years of age.”
-o-
“What, the whore had a kid?” the man said as the little dark haired boy with the bright green eyes was shoved into the office.
Aizen stood up and walked over to him. “Should we kill the little bastard?” Yammy asked from beside him. “His father said he was worthless. He couldn’t talk until he was like five years old, and since then he’s one weird kid, won’t look at you, reads books on biology that college kids don’t read. Freaky little bastard.”
Aizen knelt in front of the pale boy and tilted his head up. “What’s your story?”
The boy looked everywhere but Aizen’s face and tilted his head in Aizen’s grip, blinking quickly. “I’m Ulquiorra Cifer, nice to meet you, how are you,” he said, as though repeating a script.
“He’s not a freak, he’s autistic,” Aizen said, standing up.
As soon as Aizen let go of his chin, he looked away, wringing his hands. “Did he see his mother die?”
“He was in the room when her john bashed her skull in. When I got there, the guy was trying to choke him, saying he was a demon spawn or some shit. Said he just watched as he killed the whore. Then he asked to see the body when he stopped. He hasn’t shed a tear or anything. What do you want to do with him?” Yammy said, glancing at him, Ulquiorra’s eyes darting around the room before resting on Aizen’s feet.
“He may be useful. Take him down to the basement, put him in one of the dark cells. No one but me is to have contact with him. Provide him with books he wants, I have an excellent idea of how to use him. Train him from today on to be a perfect assassin. Train him to be merciless, emotionless, a thing, not even human anymore. That’s what I shall do with him,” Aizen said, grabbing Ulquiorra’s hair and pulling his head back, forcing him to look at him. “And you’ll do as I say, won’t you?”
-o-
Ulquiorra blinked and looked at Yuzu, and saw her eyes were very sad. “My mother worked at Las Noches. She had me in secret and left me with my father. He hated me. He hurt me. He gave me to her. She was killed by a client. Aizen gave me life and purpose. I do not know anything else.”
“Ulquie, don’t say that!” Yuzu said, smiling gently at him. “You have very deep emotion, I can see it in your eyes. You suffer. You just don’t know how to say it.”
Yuzu picked up one hand and interlaced her fingers in his. “I feel your heartbeat, do you feel mine?”
“I do,” he said, and his brow furrowed for a long time before his lips twitched in a semblance of a smile.
Outside the room, on the other side of the two way mirror, Byakuya watched with amazement. Grimmjow and Nel stood nestled together, and he let out a long breath.
“Son of a bitch, I had no idea. He’s deadly as fuck, there’s no one he can’t kill, but I never knew he’d been there since he was a child, that’s some fucked up shit,” Grimmjow said softly. “I mean, not that anything Aizen did wasn’t, but I couldn’t believe when I went down there with him. Yammy had one of those girls pinned to the floor, and trying to get into her clothes, I think it was the other one, with the black hair, and as soon as the door opened, he was in motion. Yammy never saw what hit him. Ulquiorra just did something; still don’t know what the fuck he did, and Yammy dropped like a stone. He just looked at the girl on the floor and then un-cuffed that other one. This one hugged him and then she sat him on the floor with her. Weirdest shit I’ve seen in a while,” Grimmjow muttered.
Soi-Fon came in and looked up at those gathered. “So this kid, and he’s a kid, he’s only twenty three years old, is autistic. He’s extremely knowledgeable about biology, chemistry, and physiology, which is why he was such a good assassin. We’ve had him confirm his kills from the files for us. The interesting thing about every single one of his hits, though, is that they all died as close to painlessly as possible. I’ve never seen an assassin take this much care to ensure their victims don’t suffer. This kid did. He’s been doing hits since he was about twelve years old, according the age of the hits he identified as his,” she said, glancing into the room where he was sitting and staring at his painted nails while Yuzu re-braided his hair in another style.
Byakuya looked over at her. “What’s his outlook? He wasn’t there because he wanted to be. I cannot imagine charging him any more than we would charge the others that were forced to work there.”
Ukitake, who had been standing at the back and watching silently, spoke up. “His outlook is dubious at best. What we’re seeing is a lack of remorse for the killings, but I’m not sure if that’s a façade or not. I think he needs to be observed interacting with others more. People with autism tend to struggle with social situations, which it seems that Aizen capitalized on to make him completely anti-social. In some ways, it’s like his life was frozen at six years of age.”
“Is that good then?” Grimmjow said, motioning to where Yuzu was playing with his hair, then moving around and putting makeup on his face, to brighten him up, she said.
Ukitake shook his head. “Only time will tell what damage was done to him.”
Byakuya sighed and walked out of the room into the main bullpen area. “Kuchiki!” he heard and turned to see Gin Ichimaru running toward him.
“What is it?” he said, glaring at the serpentine man.
“We have confirmation that the helicopter arrived on the private island, but we have no way to get in at this time. Communications are frozen, even the Quincy are unable to contact us,” he sighed and shook his head.
Byakuya nodded and headed down to the other room, where the younger ones had been placed. They hadn’t wanted to be separated from each other and the strange blonde boy. He went in and nodded to Tsukishima who was keeping watch on them.
“They’ve been mostly talking to each other. The youngest ones, Rin and Hanataro, I believe will need some intensive therapy, both have refused to speak,” the dark haired medic said sadly. “I’m more worried about the older ones that seem to be acting as if things are good for them. They are suppressing a lot.”
“Very well, I’ll stay here if you wish to let Dr. Unohana know what you’ve observed,” Byakuya said with a sigh. Everyone was under heavy observation, and the best psychology and psychiatry specialists were rotating around the various groups. Tsukishima was one of the newer psychologists on hand. He was older, nearly forty years old, but he was new to the field. He was also in forensics, which was why at his age he was just starting to work in psychology.
Byakuya was about to sit at the conference table when the door opened and a woman came in carrying a small dog in her arms. Byakuya arched one black brow and the blond kid came and took the dog, nodding enthusiastically as he took it over to the others.
“Good afternoon, Captain Kuchiki?” the brunette woman said, bowing slightly to him.
“And who are you?” Byakuya said with a deep sigh.
“I’m Wonderweiss’s assistant, Sachiko Yorimoto, and when I heard that he’d been picked up during the raid at the nearby building, I came down with is favorite pet, it sooths him,” she said, smiling slightly.
Byakuya frowned. “Sit down, I need to find out what exactly he is doing with them.”
After she’d sat down, the door opened again, this time it was Renji, and he handed Byakuya a file folder. He opened it and looked over at the blond kid.
“You’re this kid’s…assistant?” Byakuya said as he looked over the files.
“Um, yes, I live in the first level of the house to the south of the Las Noches building, Wonderweiss lives in the basement level. He enjoys his privacy. I drive him places and often speak to his family on his behalf,” she said, running a hand through her hair.
“Yes,” Byakuya said thoughtfully. “But that’s not your real name,” he said, looking up at meeting her eyes.
She blinked. “What?”
“When you entered, your finger prints were scanned, Yoshino Soma. Until five years ago, you were a member of the Messer Organization,” he said casually. “I’m not worried about that, however. According to this, our mystery boy is Wonderweiss Margela, only living heir to the Margela Security empire, son of Angelo Margela, though illegitimate. He’s been made an official heir. He was left with mild brain damage and completely mute after suffering severe encephalitis during a bout of spinal meningitis as a child. However, that doesn’t explain what he was doing in the secure basement of Las Noches when we raided the place,” Byakuya said, glancing at the young man who was watching him now.
He scribbled for a moment on the board. “Our security system. Easy to bypass. I wanted to help a little. I knew what happened there. No one would listen to me.”
Byakuya nodded. “I suppose that makes sense.”
Actually, none of it made any damn sense and he was just really tired of the whole situation. “So, how long have you been sneaking into the place?” he continued.
Wonderweiss wrote again. “Since I was a child. I heard crying one night, and I found Ichigo and a couple other young ones down there. I didn’t know why then. I do now. I chose to help you when you came.”
Byakuya nodded. “Alright. Well, you were helpful. What would you like to do now?” he asked.
“I need to go home to tend my dogs,” he wrote, and held up the small beagle looking dog. “His name is Killian. It means small and fierce. I have two more at home. But I want to help if I can, now that I know everything that happened there.”
Byakuya nodded and stood. He looked at the woman who was still taken aback that they’d uncovered her true identity so easily. “He’s free to go. There will be more questions later,” he said and headed out into the main lobby.
He had to think, but his heart wasn’t letting him.
-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-
His first thought was that he felt really, really good. That was until a sharp pain struck up his thigh from his knee. He groaned then, his head rolling to the side. He tried to move but found himself unable. He opened sticky eyes from the familiar haze of a high. He found himself staring at Aizen. He looked up to see he was secured by his wrists to a bed. “The fuck?” he snarled at Aizen.
“Welcome to your home, my Strawberry Sweet. You are now the Queen’s personal property, and you’ll be going nowhere from now on unless the Queen so decrees. We’ve been grooming you your entire lifetime for this, you should be proud. You no longer have to work the streets, only those here to satisfy, and no more Yammy looking over your shoulder. You are now a kept man,” he said, standing and moving silkily to the bed to sit down beside his head.
“Fuck you, I don’t want this, now let me go!” he said, yanking harshly on the handcuffs.
“Oh I always loved that fire in you. But don’t push me too far, whore,” he said, tracing fingers across his chest and down his belly. Ichigo growled and jerked away.
“Fuck you and Yammy and all of you! You took away my family twice now. I’ll get out and go back!” he spat.
Aizen smiled. “Well, that won’t happen. Yammy already put a bullet in your sisters, and I’m sure your father is currently very upset that he ever brought you home. Now, we’re far away, and you won’t be going anywhere unless your new master takes you. The Queen’s instructions were simple; you were to be available to all those here until he arrives to claim you as his own. He doesn’t want you to get out of practice, after all, and he will be arriving in a week or so.”
Ichigo couldn’t help it. Tears filled his eyes and he felt like a hammer had slammed into him. He’d gotten his sisters killed. They were dead because of him. He may as well have pulled the trigger on the gun himself. He slumped back, only to have a moment’s notice before his mouth was attacked by Aizen’s domineering tongue. There was no resistance in him, he was too shocked at what he’d said, but then he was angry and bit down on the intruding muscle as hard as he could. This elicited a yelp and Aizen’s mouth was gone, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.
“You’ll regret that. I was going to be nice, and give you pleasure as well, but I’m afraid that that won’t be the case now,” he said, lapping the blood on his chin.
One fast punch had Ichigo’s head spinning, as he felt his pants being slipped down his legs. As his head cleared he arched his back in pain as Aizen had pressed down on the injured knee. He then maneuvered his legs up onto his shoulders and Ichigo tried to pull away. With the busted knee and his wrists held, he couldn’t, though. He was helpless.
“Fuck, no, not like this!” he cried, knowing what was coming. Even after years of the abuse, it still hurt to have someone go in dry and unprepared for it. The burning and tearing made him let out a low whine in his throat and he wasn’t sure whether that or the messed up leg hurt more. Of course, he was still on the edges of his high, so he was relatively sure that it would have been worse otherwise. It didn’t take Aizen long, and finally he dropped him back to the bed. Ichigo wanted to die. He’d betrayed his family. He’d betrayed Byakuya. He’d betrayed himself.
“Here,” Aizen said and tossed a blanket over him. “I’ll clean you up eventually. Or maybe I won’t.”
-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-
He wasn’t supposed to go in the bedrooms, not really. Even as the head of security, the private rooms were just that, private. He stood on the deck outside his room on the third floor and watched the waves. It was a small island off in the Pacific. No one visited, yet tonight a helicopter had come in. He was curious because usually people came during the day, and generally they were accompanied with more preparation than this time. He guessed this was the guest Mabashi had told him about, and that meant that the Queen was to come in soon as well.
So, Uryū found himself patrolling the hallways after a while, double checking that everything was in order for the Queen eventually arrived. He was the boss after all. However, Uryū had a job to do, even if he couldn’t currently report in. When Aizen came from one of the rooms and headed off to a different guest bedroom down the hallway, Uryū needed to find out what was happening. He checked the other room to find Aizen had fallen into a deep sleep. He headed back to the other room and heard voices. He paused and stood by the door. It wasn’t like anyone could stop him from entering the room, but he wasn’t sure what exactly was happening just yet.
“Aw, isn’t he cute?” came a familiar voice. Cang Du, one of the Quincy, he recognized. Cang Du was close friends with Mabashi, at least, that was the part he played.
“Aizen’s had his fun for the night, I smell it on him,” the second voice said, Uryū knew that to be Mabashi. “Our instructions from the Queen were quite clear. Enjoy ourselves with him before we are unable to do so. Not every day we get an experienced whore in here.
“Fuck you,” came another voice, one that Uryū didn’t really know well.
“He’s got a temper,” came another voice. Jin, the King, was in there too. No doubt he was curious about this, then. He actually wasn’t sure what the deal was there. If this was the Queen’s consort, and obviously, male, Jin wasn’t into guys.
Inside, Ichigo was fuming. He had done more johns than this before, but that wasn’t the point. He’d stopped doing this. He’d given it up. He’d left for his Daddy, and they’d dragged him back into it. He just wanted to die. Even if the time he’d been truly free had been brief, he loved someone for the first time in his worthless life. “Look, get this over with. I’m fucking coming down fucking fast. I know, already, fuckers. I’m your goddamned personal fuck slut. Nothing I’m not fucking used to already,” he said, trying his best to make it seem like he didn’t care. He was trying to slip back into that person he’d been before Byakuya.
It wasn’t working.
Jin, or the King as he called himself, smiled at him. “I’m not a fucking faggot, but a fucking blow is a blow, and I hear you’re a fucking beautiful mouth fuck,” he said, moving over Ichigo and releasing his hands. “You got nowhere to go, so I can take these off. You step out the fucking door, though, and you’ll be tied like the dog you are,” he said, undoing his pants and forcing himself into Ichigo’s mouth. Ichigo was glad he wasn’t that big, though, he was a bit nauseous.
He kept telling himself this was no different than working the corner and giving the money to Luppi. No different.
Except it was.
He felt one of the others move onto the bed and slide into him easily enough. He wanted to laugh at these assholes. Dickless jerks, he thought as the other one, the one with bright hair like him, Mabashi he thought was his name, finished quickly, and the dark haired one who hadn’t spoken his name took his place. Ichigo winced because he was a bit closer to Byakuya’s size, but not near it. Finally, Jin finished in his mouth, holding his head to force him to swallow. The other one, the last one, moved away, and he didn’t think he’d even entered him. Strange, he thought, coughing at the bitter taste and trying not to vomit.
“I’ll come see you again, you do have a fine mouth,” Jin said, leaving as the other two followed him.
Ichigo heard the door slam and then he couldn’t hold it anymore. He pulled his legs up and rested his chin on his knees. He started to rock as the tears started to fall. He’d been a fucking whore for almost twelve fucking years, and he was bawling like a baby, and it wasn’t even the worst treatment he’d been given.
Ichigo started as the door opened and shut quickly and he glanced over to see a tall, dark haired man with glasses standing inside the room.
“You next?” he muttered, trying to hide the tears on his face. “If so get it over with.”
“I don’t think my fiancé would appreciate me having sex with others while I’m away on assignment,” he said, moving over and sitting down on the bed.
“Who…who are you?” he whispered, his voice hoarse, the tough façade dropping briefly.
“My name is Uryū Ishida. I work here, and I heard what happened, I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop them,” he asked, softly.
Ichigo swallowed. “I…I…” He stopped and sighed. “I deserve this. I really do.”
He frowned, his fine brow crinkling. “No one deserves this, no one.”
“Even if I’ve spent half my life fucking people for money?” he said softly.
Uryū frowned even deeper. “Unless you’ve been a prostitute since you were like ten, I doubt that…” He trailed off as thoughts clicked together. “How old are you?”
Ichigo ran a hand through his hair, ignoring the bright purple bruises that were forming on his wrist. “I’ll be twenty-one soon. Maybe.”
“What’s your name?” he asked quietly. “I didn’t know who was coming, I just knew that the Queen’s consort was being brought in.”
“Ichigo Kurosaki,” he said softly, and Uryū’s eyes went wide.
“Kurosaki? Are you related to Masaki Kurosaki?” he said.
Ichigo’s eyes narrowed. “My mother. She died before I got sold to Aizen’s child porno ring,” he said, frowning.
“I knew her, well, sort of, I was a child, but that’s not important now. I work with the Shinigami, and we’re doing everything to bust this whole thing wide open. Aizen isn’t the main thug we’re after, it’s the Queen. You being here is the first and only time we’ve ever known that the Queen was to get here. So, you’ve actually given us a chance to stop this thing for good,” he said softly, reaching out to put a hand on Ichigo’s arm.
Ichigo flinched away, though, and Uryū pulled his hand back. “That’s fine, look, I just want you to know that we’re going to get you out of here.”
Ichigo nodded as he watched him leave the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. He saw a door to the side and got up, finding an en suite bathroom. He turned the shower on as hot as he could and stayed until the water ran cold and his skin was red. At least no one could see his tears.
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