Adult-FanFiction.org : Bleach

Romance and Rivalries	By : Kinnikuman Category: Bleach > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2658 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Neither author owns or holds any rights to "Bleach". No profit is made from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 22
- 23
- 24
Chapter Twenty-Three
by Rob
Shinji Hirako . . .
There was something almost curious about the man. He could be betrayed so many times, have his heart torn to pieces in front of him, and yet still find a shred of hope inside himself, enough to then entrust those pieces to someone else, thus beginning the cycle of betrayal all over again. True, he may argue that he ‘saw Aizen’s betrayal’ coming, but that was a lie. Shinji had not seen anything. He’d suspected, he’d felt it, but he’d allowed himself to believe that he was superior, that simply knowing about the betrayal was enough. He had in effect lied to himself. He had stood at the top and assumed nothing could reach him, that by simply expecting such a dangerous blow it would be synonymous to preventing it. In the end it was that self-assured and arrogant behaviour that had been Shinji’s downfall. His position had been ripped from him, and now it was Aizen who stood at the top.
How was it – that after so much – that the blond fool could still give his trust to those around him? Had he forgotten how easy it was to fall from great heights? Did he not realise his position of power could be wrenched from his grasp at any moment? The world was not a kind place, and there would always be someone reaching for more, striving to achieve the most that they could, people like Grimmjow, who fought to be stronger and stronger in his profession, or that sweet Orihime who strived to be less of a burden on those she loved. Everyone was reaching, reaching for that top rung of the ladder, and those a top the ladder must always expect that, always be on the look out, because one day you could be on the top looking down, and the next some innocent fool would cut you down. They would cut you down the same way Aizen had cut Shinji, and there would be no remorse, no regret, and no guilt. They would slice that position from your hands and hold it before you, making sure that the only regret felt would be yours as you realised your own foolish blindness had prevented you from acting. It would be your entire fault, but by the time you realised it then it would be too late. It would always be too late.
Shinji might choose to believe that the world was good, that people had an inherent goodness inside their souls, or that it was only Aizen who had the innate potential to use and abuse others, to twist their minds and souls to his own will, but that was not the case. Everyone was basically selfish: everyone. There was not one person who would not use another if it so suited him.
There were unintentional betrayals, the ones that made you doubt yourself and question where you placed your trust, small things such as how Hiyori so often attacked Shinji or how Kensei found it so difficult to take orders, often following his fists into dangerous public scandals. It surely hurt to have to do damage control for Hiyori’s sake, or to read about Kensei’s issues concerning domestic abuse in the local papers. Such actions had direct effects on all those associated with said individuals, and surely then it was a betrayal of sorts, no matter how implicit or subtle, seeing as your own life was damaged in the process of others leading theirs? Then there were the big betrayals, the ones you could never forgive. Like how Kisuke lied to Kuchiki Rukia when he was still a doctor, performing a surgery rather experimental and causing her lasting damage, or how Rukia herself had indirectly gone on to cause the death of one of the Shiba clan, or even the obvious of Aizen’s direct betrayal of Shinji.
Yet time after time again Shinji placed his faith in people. It was a foolish thing to do indeed, for trusting someone was the same as depending upon them, and that was something only the weak did. The strong did not need to depend on others, to trust them. Shinji depended on so many people: the Vizards, Kurosaki Ichigo, Urahara Kisuke and – most interestingly – Cifer Ulquiorra. That was perhaps the most interesting betrayal of all. If only Shinji had not learnt to trust Ulquiorra, to depend on him, to follow him blindly, then maybe he would not be in the situation he was, maybe he would never have been betrayed.
Aizen smirked at the thought as he looked down at the man beneath him.
Kaname and Gin had both expressed concern about holding the ‘meeting’ in his private home, after all it allowed for too much to be taken for granted and too much ‘trust’ in the situation. What should occur if evidence was left behind, if the police somehow arrived at the scene, or if someone should witness Shinji being brought inside? Of course, Aizen had planned for all those eventualities, but he was not about to divulge such information to his men, after all, what if one of them should in turn betray him? No, that would never do.
He had Szayel and Grimmjow bring Shinji into his private study, and then secure Shinji before leaving his premises. He had been sure to watch the van of Arrancars leave the grounds of his home, and to make sure his entire staff were absent for the evening, then returned to Shinji to begin with his planned meeting. The blond was still entirely unconscious, his chin resting firmly upon his chest, and his eyes closed to all that was around him. He’d been tied to steel chair, which in turn had been drilled into the concrete floor beneath, making sure that escape was impossible, and the handcuffs and ropes that bound him were the best that money could buy. There was of course a firm blindfold in place to prevent Shinji from seeing until Aizen deemed it necessary, although he had forgone a gag in order to make their little ‘conversation’ to come more interactive and amusing. Luckily it seemed he would not have to wait long to begin their talk, for Shinji was already awakening.
The blond man was stirring and fidgeting where he sat, his body moving to and fro as if testing his environment, as if trying to work out the limitations of his own body and the strength that resided inside him. They were weak movements, little more that twitches really, just tiny jerks of his muscles as his mind slowly regained consciousness, his thoughts slowly clearing as that thick fog of the mind cleared. It was almost amusing to watch. It was like seeing a baby bird stretch its wings, or a foal stumble on its first step, for no matter how much Shinji strived to achieve competency over his body he – like those infant animals – would find himself unable to do anything, forced to rely on his captor. His mind would be sluggish from the medicine, he would feel nauseous too, and his muscles would ache and groan under any stress. In fact the moment he found his arms and legs unable to move, restrained by ropes and handcuffs, he quickly found a touch of panic that he rarely ever felt. The instant his arm would not lift, his leg would not kick, or his eyes would not see, he suddenly burst into life, fighting against his bonds, almost as if he could break free with sheer willpower alone. Luckily Aizen had the cuffs lined so that they wouldn’t cut into Shinji’s white flesh, for the way the boy struggled he would have done some serious damage were that not the case.
After a few minutes Aizen felt an almost pity for Shinji, watching a man who took such pride in his abilities reduced to a state of complete helplessness. Of course, that sense of pain was tinged with humour, he could not help but feel a sense of superiority and contentment in seeing his ex-lover tied up before him, forced to rely on him and solely him alone. How just was it to see the great Hirako Shinji fall to his own shortcomings and weaknesses, to see the man so arrogant and self-consumed succumb to his own overly trusting nature and forge his own defeat. Why, it was too sweet for words, it was something so perfect it would be forever etched into Aizen’s memory.
It was true Shinji stood near to the top, but yet again here he was forced to obey Aizen’s every whim, forced to acknowledge his true superior, and – like all mortals to the gods – soon he would believe in Aizen alone. He would be forced to accept that there was a new predator at the top of the food chain, a new king upon the throne of the world. Soon Aizen would be his god.
Aizen smiled to himself as his eyes narrowed dangerously, taking in every inch of Shinji’s body and facial expressions, relishing in the panicked and laboured breathing of such a weak man. Whilst he enjoyed the fear that radiated from every pore of the man’s skin, he knew it was time to begin what they were there to do. He reached out with his spidery hand and touched the side of Shinji’s head, letting his calloused fingertips ghost over the soft, silky locks that fell from Shinji, enjoying how they slid across his digits as smooth as satin. Shinji at once flinched away from his touch, swearing at the top of his lungs and tried hard as he might to unhinge the chair from the floor, but it was to no avail. Aizen merely smirked at the fruitless effort and re- continued his original quest, stroking through those blond locks and reaching smoothly behind Shinji’s head, before gripping one end of the blindfold’s knot and pulling it undone, letting the black material fall from his victim’s eyes, before dropping it upon the cold floor.
At once Shinji’s brown eyes widened, and that film of water that covered them was lost as his fearful tears died up. The fear was replaced with anger. The coldness, the frustration, and the resentment were all visible in his deathly gaze, in the way he narrowed his sights upon Aizen and looked upon him with such disgust that it was almost as if he had caught scent of a foul smell. His upper lip curled and revealed his white teeth, and he lifted his head as if to signify that Aizen was truly beneath him. There was no hiding the fact that Shinji would rather be dead than with this man, and no hiding the fact that if – given the option – Aizen most certainly was willing to accommodate such a request. The distaste the two felt for each other, gazing intently at one another with cold hatred, was obvious.
“Yer one sick, twisted fuck, Sosuke,” Shinji growled.
“Oh, is that so, Hirako-san?”
“Yeah, it is! Yer think this is going t’ upset me, keeping me all tied up an’ vulnerable? Yeah, I was pretty terrified when I thought I was dealin’ with some random kidnapper, but now I see it’s you I ain’t got nothing to worry about. The way I see it, the only thing I have to be upset about is that you’re hiding behind these stupidly strong ropes . . . if this barrier weren’t in place, we both know I could kick yer ass.”
Aizen smiled dangerously as he bent down close to Shinji, his face inches from the blonde’s, and his hands resting firmly on the armrests of the chair. He gazed deeply into his victim’s eyes for the better part of a minute, simply staring and watching, until finally a hint of uncertainty glimmered in Shinji’s eyes, the eyeballs flickering as they tried to ascertain just what Aizen truly wanted from the encounter. It was then the brunet moved his back and spoke with complete confidence and certainty, waiting eagerly for the reaction of the man beneath him.
“Verbal arguments are petty and pointless,” Aizen replied. “I choose not to respond to such base provocations. Instead . . . I believe we can play this my way. You always did enjoy it when I took charge, did you not, Shinji-kun?”
Shinji jolted his head forward hard and fast, hoping to break Aizen’s nose with his forehead, but having anticipated such a move the older man was just out of reach, and instead smiled to see Shinji wasting his efforts. Yes, let him try and touch Aizen, it was ultimately just further proof that Aizen could not be touched, that he was the one whom held all the cards. Shinji could not hope to so much as to ever lay a scratch upon him, and his words held even less power, worthless as the man that spoke them.
He stood up to full height and looked down at his helpless companion. Shinji’s face was flushed red with rage, his blond locks shadowed his expression as he kept his head low and back arched forward, and the contempt he felt seemed to reek from his every pore. Aizen stood purposely so his body blocked the light, allowing himself to cast a shadow over Shinji that kept the boy in darkness. It also allowed for Aizen’s expressions to remain partially hidden, for only his smile to shine through as his villainous intent stayed stowed away in the darkness of the room. It was rather enjoyable to watch Shinji from the shadows, to see his every movement and expression, to watch as the fear flickering across his face. It was almost a rush, to know that he could see all of Shinji, even deep inside the man’s soul, whilst keeping every inch of himself hidden away. He refused to let the very depths of his anger shine through in his features, and he refused to step out from the shadow. It was better to let Shinji stew and suffer, to let him see no part of the man that held him captive, to see nothing of what was to come. Yes, it was better this way, if only to increase Shinji’s suffering.
“My, there truly is beauty in tragedy.”
Aizen reached down and pressed a fingertip firmly against the spot directly beneath Shinji’s ear, and then traced a slow but sensuous line along his jawbone, before moving to his lips. His skin was soft as ever, feeling as smooth as the water’s surface and light as if the blond was still in his youth, and with that touch came the soft yet faint aromas of his captive’s cologne and natural odour. It was such an intimate gesture, almost reminiscent of the times Shinji used to do the exact same thing to Aizen when he was still but a teaching assistant . . . ‘Hirako-san’ would usually begin with that one, smooth, intimate touch as if proclaiming his affection and lust by reminding Aizen of who was in control. Yes, it was a rather controlling gesture, especially when the recipient was truly tied up, but it seemed a perfect way to begin their meeting, by reversing their old roles and reminding Shinji of just who was in charge. He adored the feel of the man beneath him, and it was alluring how Shinji could not react, not fight, not object to any of Aizen’s advances. It would truly be a fun evening indeed.
It seemed however that his little pet still had a spark of rebellion in him. The moment Aizen touched those sweet, plump lips Shinji opened his mouth wide and wrenched his head to the side, before clamping down his teeth hard and fast as he sought to deliver a painful blow to his captor. Luckily Aizen was as fast as ever with his movements, and instead of a bloody blow all that occurred was a horrid clashing sound as Shinji bit down hard on thin air. It would have been amusing, except Aizen had no patience to teach his pets how to play nicely. It seemed it was time to teach Shinji a quick, but poignant, lesson in etiquette.
Aizen reached down and quickly grasped Shinji’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, gripping tight enough that a mark was left upon that sweet flesh, and with one firm pull he lifted his prisoner’s head roughly and bent down close to him. Shinji struggled furiously, trying desperately to throw his head out of Aizen’s hand, but the brunet held strong and merely gave a dangerous smile. Their breath mingled for one sickening moment and Shinji swallowed hard. Aizen’s face became hard, his eyes narrowed and glimmered with a natural light of their own, and his lips pulled in exactly the right places so that it was impossible to see if his heart was feeling sadistic or sincere. There was something cold in how he stood, something somewhat otherworldly. How was it that his back was arched as he bent and yet looked so elegant, so natural? How was it that he could smile so warmly as his eyes glowered so darkly? It was rare times that he appeared less than human, and yet when he did he mastered the act so well it was truly believable. Shinji hated to admit it, but – for once – he was afraid. He was afraid of Aizen.
“That tongue piercing of yours is most attractive, Shinji,” Aizen said almost casually, “it’d be a shame if someone was to rip it out, just so that you would learn to hold your tongue and play nice with your elders.”
It seemed that his idle threat had the desired effect. Shinji at once closed his mouth and pursed his lips shut, refusing to let out another threat either verbally or physically, he instead threw his head backwards and stared up at the ceiling. A long sigh issued from his lips as he began to realise just who was in charge. The sight aroused Aizen’s attentions, it was highly attractive to see Shinji throw back his head and expose that long column of neck. The skin was so white, so smooth, and each time Shinji swallowed his Adam’s apple would ripple and move, forcing Aizen to remain stoic in appearance, lest he show a sign of interest. After a long moment Shinji lowered his head again and looked Aizen straight in the eye, showing not a flicker of weakness. He cocked his head to the side slightly, and then gave a starry, wide-eyed look as if being tied to a chair in front of his ex-lover was the most natural thing in the world, as if he had almost expected something like this to happen.
“Yer gonna tell me why you’ve got me here for?”
“I was beginning to wonder if you would ever ask,” Aizen replied a little too sweetly. “Why don’t I show you? After all, actions speak louder than words.”
Aizen’s smile seemed so bitter and sinister that, no matter how he tried to hide it, he still looked like some damned sadist. It reminded him of those villainous looks Gin sometimes had, the ones where he’d purposely cast his face in shadow and glare with eyes like venomous snake slits, all whilst grinning that inane grin, the one that he always wore so that it lost all meaning, so that it acted merely as a eerie mask. The only difference between Gin’s look and Aizen’s was that Aizen kept his eyes open, determined not to miss one second of his victim’s expression. It was like he had to see the effect he had on people, had to judge their every response, it was creepy how even at times like these – even as he committed serious crimes like kidnap – he could still appear to be psychoanalysing all those around him. Couldn’t he let his guard down for even a second? Couldn’t he just let himself feel or act, without spending all his effort on what other people felt or did? What was it about people that Aizen hated so much, what was it that he distrusted? Why did he have to act like this?
He watched carefully as Aizen glided across the room, before he stopped at the lamp in the far corner and flicked the switch. The curtains in the study were so thick that all outside light was exterminated before it could enter, and with all other lights in the house turned off not even a slither could sneak its way under the tiniest of cracks. It was truly pitch black. Even if Shinji could lift his hand an inch in front of his face he wouldn’t have been able to see it, it was like he’d been sucked into a black hole, and he couldn’t get his eyes to adjust at all. He was starting to panic when suddenly he heard a noise like something being wheeled across the floor, and then heard a large cloth being pulled away from something . . . that was when he really panicked.
It couldn’t be helped. All he could think about was those horrific horror films that Kensei, Hiyori and Mashiro watched. The victim or corpse would always be tied down or lying flat on their backs, and suddenly a tray would be wheeled out filled with fucked-up instruments of torture or medical devices, and then they’d be dissected alive, or have body parts removed or – in that really fucked up film – even have an eyeball removed! He didn’t get his friends at all, Mashiro had just laughed as if it was a joke, and Kensei had just gone ‘sweet’ whilst Hiyori asked him to pass the bloody popcorn! It was an eyeball, a real eyeball being scooped out whilst the girl was still alive! Oh God, if he survived this he was going to kill those three psychopaths, and not because they had sick interests, but because thanks to them now he was freaking having a panic attack! Surely Aizen wasn’t that twisted he’d start torturing Shinji like he was a freaking animal dissection, right? Even Aizen had some limits, right? Like, why would he want to torture Shinji anyways? He’d only bitch to Gin or Tousen that he’d gotten bloodstains on his carpet or something! Nah, he was much too chicken to do anything too hardcore, right? Right?
Just as he started trying like crazy to fight his way free from his bondage, a strong light flashed on across the room. He pulled his head back and blinked a few times and then let his eyes adjust, when he did he saw the faint outline of a silver, portable stand and then realised that the light was coming from a large television on top. It wasn’t anything special, in fact it was so old that there was a back to it and the screen was showing snow . . . he hadn’t watched anything except flat-screened HD televisions for years. Hell, it even had a video recorder underneath it! Seriously, if Aizen was going to start playing American movies with a little puppet asking to play a game, or even some weird Japanese shit where a girl would tell him he had seven days to live, then he’d freaking just kill himself then and there. Well, he would if he could, at that moment he was still trying to fight his way out of handcuffs.
“Please do not struggle so much, Shinji,” Aizen said from beside the television, he body cast in a flickering light as he stood with arms folded, watching Shinji with an almost affectionate smile. “We wouldn’t want you to miss the film, would we?”
“Bastard. Let me out of here before I -!”
Unfortunately his sentence was cut off by the ‘movie’ on screen. It was clearly a security tape judging from the time and date in the corner, lack of sound, and ‘Archives’ typed in the opposite corner, just in case the person watching wasn’t aware of what room was being filmed. What was most interesting about the security tape, however, wasn’t the room but its occupants, and – more specifically – what they were up to in said room. It seemed that little Luppi kid hadn’t deleted the tape like he’d asked, and there – on film – was video footage of him screwing Luppi hard against the table. Then a few seconds later they flipped positions and Luppi was riding him from above, whilst clawing his chest and leaving what would be rather painful welts later on. Out of all the things he’d expected to see, this certainly wasn’t one of them, that was for sure.
Aizen smiled darkly to himself. His lips seemed to purse in mild frustration, but the very way they pulled upwards at the corners revealed his amusement at the situation. He’d purposely kept his arms folded to evoke a sense of control, standing tall with a rigidly straight back, and his eyes – narrowed and intense – were focussed, not on the film, but upon Shinji’s stark white face and constantly blinking eyes.
It was the perfect response.
The little blond was shocked into silence, his body completely still without a single sign of struggle, and his eyes locked upon the screen in front of him as every ounce of strength in his body left him. After a few moments Shinji’s mouth began to open and close, moving as if in mockery of a fish in water, and suddenly a deep blush covered his cheeks, a subtle but noticeable red tinge that darkened his pale skin and made him seem oh so vulnerable. How strange it was to see Shinji blush. After all, wasn’t this the man whom would take Aizen anywhere and anywhere, from park benches to museum lifts, trying any and every position and saying every dirty word imaginable? It was somewhat of a surprise to see Shinji so embarrassed, but a highly pleasant one nonetheless.
There was something highly enjoyable in seeing a man so free of inhibitions and restraint tied down, forced to view things against his will, and finally – finally – feel a sense of shame for his less than human self. The Vizard always had a hollow side to him, a part of him that was never fully complete, that could never empathise with others or care to understand those around him, and now it was as if that side of him had been wiped out, erased. It was as if Aizen had the power to change Shinji, to bring out his weaknesses and make him human, revealing him for the truly fragile creature that he really was. The sense of power and supremacy Aizen felt was almost overwhelming, and like a drug it was addictive, it controlled his senses and brought about a high unlike any other, it was something that gave him purpose and reason. It was intoxicating, just seeing Shinji squirm with humiliation and knowing that he – that Aizen – was in full control. He had the other man’s life in his very hands, he had control of all his senses: scent, taste, touch, sight, hearing, they all belonged to Aizen to do with as he so wished. Shinji was his, and he had power over the blond that most people could only dream about. He was in full control. It was he who had caused Shinji to be shocked, it was he who had caused Shinji to feel embarrassed, and it would be he who would cause him to feel a fear like no other. Today, Shinji was his and his alone, and he would enjoy every second of it.
It was hard to understand Shinji’s embarrassment. Perhaps his humiliation stemmed from being under another’s control, specifically Aizen’s control? Perhaps it was the pain of being cut down to size, forced to see oneself for what they really were, and have his entire self – physically and emotionally – bared before the man he claimed to hate more than anything in the world. There was a part of Aizen that longed to understand Shinji’s suffering, but another part of him that realised that his suffering was inconsequential and unimportant. Why did it matter why Shinji suffered just so long as Aizen knew how to bring about that suffering? Sure there was a unique power that came with understanding the mind of another, but he could learn the inner workings of Shinji at any time, for now such a level of understanding was far from what he wanted.
Shinji lowered his head and swallowed hard, before cocking his head to one side and giving Aizen a once over, observing him carefully as if from that one look he could decipher the intent behind the actions. When he spoke it was soft, gentle, but laced with obvious resentment and bitterness, a warm front hiding a cold interior, and most of all there was an obvious anger that no friendly tone could hide.
“So what? Yer got me here because yer fucking jealous I’m screwin’ someone else? Last time I checked you had no claim to me, Sosuke.”
“Oh, I am very aware of that fact, Hirako Shinji,” Aizen said in a rather nonchalant tone. “I am very aware that you deny me any claim to you, but I am also aware that your denial of reality does not change that reality’s very existence. You may deny me my claim to you, but that claim exists nonetheless. If it did not then how is it that you are here now, weak and defenceless before me, waiting my decision on what to do with you, hmm? I do not have to claim you, Shinji. I own you.”
The hostile fury on Shinji’s face was a delicious sight indeed. His entire expression darkened at once as his lowered his gaze, his hair falling around his features to cast him in shadow, and dark lines appeared beneath his now narrowed eyes. His shoulders had squared and heightened, and his muscles were tense and solid, and although Aizen couldn’t see behind the man’s back he knew that the blond was clenching his fists. It was amusing to see that Shinji claimed so often that Aizen meant nothing to him, that Aizen had no real power over him – certainly not to deceive or manipulate – and yet here was proof that Aizen was Shinji’s real master, with just three words he had transformed Shinji’s emotions completely. He had the power to change Shinji’s mentality, beliefs and even his emotions, and the little man didn’t even realise it. He didn’t even know that he was being played. Yes, Shinji would always be Aizen’s favourite toy, and he would forever enjoy playing with him, breaking him when need be and fixing him once again to his liking. No matter how much Shinji denied it, Aizen owned him, and he had no intention of relinquishing his ownership. Shinji was his.
“Yer don’t own shit,” Shinji snapped, “especially not me.”
“Oh, is that so?”
“Yeah, it is, and you know it!” He tried to fight his way forwards again but the handcuffs and ropes stopped him, instead pulling him back roughly so that his energy was wasted. “What’s wrong with you anyway? I can’t see any other ex-boyfriend going shit crazy and kidnapping their old lover, just because they screwed with another guy like ten years after the relationship ended.”
It was almost unnoticeable, but something flickered across Aizen’s features as Shinji spoke, something soft and unspoken, something unrecognisable. On any other man it may have been a twinge of guilt, a spark of nostalgia, or even a twinkle of regret, but those emotions were not the kind of emotions a man like Aizen felt. He didn’t regret his actions because he had them all planned perfectly and executed them accordingly, he didn’t feel nostalgic because the past meant nothing to him, he already had everything he wanted in the present, and as for guilt -? Ha. You’d have to be high as Mashiro to think that someone like Aizen felt anything akin to guilt!
Still, something was there, even if Shinji couldn’t pinpoint what exactly. It made him feel like he was running on the right track and that he should keep going. The point was something was wrong, and it wasn’t just that Aizen was a fucking psychopath without a single emotion in him other sadistic enjoyment, something was wrong and Aizen obviously realised it when Shinji pointed out the absurdity in what was going on. So what was wrong? It couldn’t be that Aizen really gave a flying fuck if Shinji decided to screw around with one of his Arrancars, and he doubted it had anything to do with their one-night-stand a few weeks back, and come to think of it he hadn’t really done much since they broke up to constitute a kidnapping. Hell, Aizen used to be pretty decent for an ambitious, untrustworthy, little freak, but all that had changed around the time of the trial.
Yeah, yeah, so what if the Aizen he knew never existed to begin with, there was still something back then in Aizen that wasn’t this downright evil, was there? Could it be something kicked off around the trial to change things? Could it be that something had happened to actually cause the trial in itself? Fuck, maybe that four-eyed freak had been right, he should have kept Aizen close to him and tried to get to know him, if he’d bothered to actually understand Aizen he’d have seen the trial coming and could have stopped it, and more importantly he’d have known the reason why the whole trial kicked off to begin with! Goddamn, there had to be a reason for this petty little grudge, right? There had to be something . . . If Aizen hated him enough to take him to court, hated him enough to use him when he had a chance, hated him enough to kidnap him just ‘cause he was jealous of Luppi, then what had happened to cause that hate? You don’t just wake up and hate someone.
It was then something clicked inside Shinji, and – suddenly – it all made sense.
“This is all ‘cause of that resignation you handed in, ain’t it?”
Aizen jerked his head slightly and blinked a few times, his smile fading into a look of passivity and indifference. No matter how much the bastard slicked back his hair, or wore contacts rather than glasses, or tried so desperately to appear to be an entirely different person to what he was, there were some characteristics of the ‘old Aizen’ that slipped through occasionally. His reaction when shocked or surprised was one of them. It was weird, some things were just innate and real, they were truly ‘Aizen’, but the rest was all an act, something false and fake. It made him wonder which ‘Aizen’ was real, or if both were merely an act. Would he ever really get to see the man behind the mask? If he was right about this then maybe he would, or at least get a glimpse, if he was right and he pressed on then maybe he’d get to see a sensitive part of Aizen – the real him – that no one else had ever seen before. Now wouldn’t that be something?
“I beg your pardon, Shinji, but I do not follow.”
“Tch, like hell you don’t,” Shinji scoffed. “You were cool until I accepted your stupid resignation. What? You’re pissed because I didn’t say no to you? I’m not a complete bitch like some. I ain’t going to take away someone’s rights just cause it suits me, if you wanted to leave I wasn’t going to stop you, I’m not a jerk like that. Not like I wanted you around anyway, right? Couldn’t trust you not to even poison my tea. I was right not to trust you too, so if you’re so pissed that I let you go then what did you expect? Idiot. Did you really expect me to make you stay?”
“Yes. That was exactly what I expected, Hirako-san.”
It was Shinji’s turn to be surprised.
He turned his head to face Aizen directly, but he couldn’t detect any real change in the man before him. Aizen just stood exactly as he had been doing, completely ignoring the video footage of Shinji screwing around, and gazed back at Shinji with a soft kind of patience. The only thing that was any different to usual was his gaze. It was like ‘classic Aizen’, the Aizen that they used to know, and from what he’d seen since the trial a trait that the ‘new Aizen’ sometimes – on rare occasions – let slip and revealed to the world. It wasn’t an intense stare, quite the opposite, in fact the lines around his eyes had softened and rounded, and he seemed to be watching Shinji with an air of curiosity and almost . . . sadness. It wasn’t even sadness in its typical sense of the word, it was something beyond that, something ethereal, something uniquely belonging to Aizen.
What was it that Aizen felt? Surely it wasn’t a kind of hopeless despair, because he was certain Aizen wasn’t capable of feeling despair, that he couldn’t regret losing someone because he wasn’t the kind of man that longed for someone.
Shinji had thought back to that day several times, the day when Aizen had resigned and they’d separated for good. He’d found it weird at the time, that just because Aizen had gotten a better job offer it had meant that could no longer screw around like they’d used to. Surely when other people changed jobs it didn’t automatically mean a break-up? Not that they were a couple to begin with in order to break-up. Tch, he’d never trusted that bastard and it wasn’t exactly a surprise when he’d been betrayed, he’d knew some sort of back-stabbing was eventually going to occur, regardless of how good a screw Aizen was. Though if Aizen was right just then, if he had actually expected Shinji to deny his resignation and make him stay, then why the fuck did he go and start criminal proceedings against Shinji? Yeah, like that would endear Shinji to him and make him want the fucker back.
Then again maybe it was just about revenge, maybe Aizen just wanted payback for what Shinji did? After all if Aizen really had opened up emotionally then it wasn’t an everyday feat. Aizen was a very secretive, closed-off, Victorian-like kind of guy; to him any display of emotions wasn’t just weak but a big sign to your rivals and enemies about said weakness. If you revealed your emotions you revealed what made you tick, you revealed what levers would work in order to manipulate you, and most of all you opened yourself up to pain and rejection . . . Aizen was a man of pride, a self-assured guy who not only refused to let other people see his real motives and emotions, but a man who couldn’t let his shell crack for even a second, because to him being seen as weak was the same as being weak. If he’d let a glimpse of his inner self be seen for even a second, then it went far beyond merely trusting Shinji – something Aizen was loath to do with anyone – it was a true moment of utter vulnerability. He’d exposed himself to Shinji, and in return been brutally rejected and abandoned. That kind of pain didn’t just go away over night either. When someone rejected you for just being you then it was a direct hit to your very identity, it cut you to the core, and - . . .
Shit. What if -? What if Aizen really was that nice, creepy, weirdo bookworm he pretended to have been? What if he was fed up with the world for whatever reason, and Shinji was the straw that broke the camel’s back? What if Shinji’s brutal – if unintentional – rejection was what caused him to go ‘screw this, I really can’t depend on anyone after all, let me try and take over the whole of Karakura and screw some people over on the way’? No. That was ridiculous, right? Shinji hadn’t done shit to Aizen, let alone pushed him over the edge into Creepy Megalomania-ville. No, this was Aizen playing his stupid games again! He was getting into Shinji’s mind, putting in stupid thoughts and stupid feelings, making him feel guilty when he had no reason to. Aizen was just playing with him, and he was letting him!
“Yer lying,” Shinji snapped, hating himself for sounding a little more uncertain than he intended. “You were acting weird ages before you resigned, doing weird experiments with yer law research, and yer obviously were gathering up all that ‘evidence’ months before the trial, like that video of us and shit. You didn’t want me to want ya to stay at all. You were already planning to screw me over!”
“Ah, how vain the Vizard mind can be,” Aizen said in an almost singsong voice. “You truly think that your eyes do not deceive you, that merely because you can ‘see’ the evidence of my betrayal that you understand that betrayal fully. Let me tell you, Hirako-san, sometimes it is the things we see that make us blind.”
Shinji bit the inside of his cheek hard to keep from snapping violently at his captor. The last thing he wanted was to piss the man off who held his entire future in his hands, because – after all – one word from Aizen and he could likely end up dead or worse. It was better in the long run to be patient, to wait things out and see how they concluded, to let Aizen run the shots, because if he tried pushing Aizen into a corner it’d likely be the last thing he ever did.
It was then Aizen walked slowly in front of the television set, blocking out the light for the entire room. It gave his body an eerie glow, an aura that didn’t quite fit his appearance, and the room seemed to flicker with the remnants of a fiery light from the television set behind him. A few seconds passed, and then Aizen reached down and flicked the switch to the television, casting Shinji back into pitch-black darkness. Shinji pulled back his head and blinked rapidly, as he tried to clear his vision and once again adjust to the darkness, however before he had time to adjust he could hear footsteps coming closer and closer to him. Soon enough Aizen was standing directly in front of him, his hands on the armrests as he leant down so that Shinji could feel the other man’s breath on his cheek, and suddenly he felt a sense of dread that he really didn’t wish to be feeling. Whatever the man wanted now, it could not be good.
“Did it ever occur to you, Hirako-san, that perhaps you chose your own destiny that day?” Aizen said bitterly. “I came to you hoping for one response but expecting another. It was because I expected your rejection that I gathered such evidence, but I had no intentions of ever using it, that is . . . unless you forced me to. If only you had looked beneath the underneath, saw in me what was truly there, rather than the villain that you wished to see. If you had only accepted me then we would not be here now, nor would that trial ever have occurred. Instead you chose this, and I merely acted accordingly.”
Shinji swallowed hard and shrugged. His heart was beating exceptionally fast and it was impossible to see Aizen’s expression at all, he hated to admit it but he was scared, well and truly scared. He didn’t know what Aizen expected and frankly all of what he said was a lot to take in, it’d take time to process all that information and to completely re-evaluate his past, he couldn’t be expected to respond right then, could he? How could Aizen possibly expect him to give an educated reply when he was still reeling in shock, and still somewhat terrified he was going to wake up in a bathtub of ice but minus his kidneys? All he could do was bite his lip and close his eyes, hoping that any minute this would all be over.
“What do you want, Sosuke? All that’s in the past, I can’t change it.”
“What I want, Shinji, is to give you one more choice,” he came so close his captive as he spoke that Shinji could feel the warm, moist breath on his bare cheek and shuddered. “You are fully aware that Trepadora Luppi-san is my employee, are you not? You are also aware he is talking of marriage to you also, a foolish sentiment indeed considering the illegality of same-sex marriage in this country. Your choice is thus this: do you wish for me to immediately fire Luppi, or do you think I should retain him on my staff?”
“Shit! What kind of trick question is that?”
“It is no trick. You have thirty seconds to decide or I shall assume that you wish for Luppi to retain his job, a very moral choice and admirable considering the courage it would take to go against my wishes in your current . . . predicament.”
Damn it, only thirty seconds to decide the outcome of someone else’s entire life? That wasn’t even fair! It wasn’t Luppi’s fault he decided to fall in love with a random blond, or that he was so enthusiastic he was desperate to suddenly get married, he was just a regular guy and it wasn’t right for Shinji to just say ‘fire him’, it would ruin Luppi’s life! It’d be even worse when he eventually was told it was Shinji’s fault too, he’d feel betrayed and helpless and hurt, and everyone would probably mock him too considering how public he’d been about the relationship and all. How could Aizen be such a heartless bastard as to take it out on that poor guy? It wasn’t even like Luppi had known Shinji and Aizen had been an item, especially considering Shinji had gave him a false name on the day they met, and even if Luppi should have kept it in his pants having met a freaking stranger for the first time ever . . . was that enough of a reason to hurt him so badly?
His first thought was that Aizen wanted him to say ‘no, don’t fire him’, that maybe this was a test of his moral and ethical fibre, but then he considered exactly what was at stake and decided that there was more to it than that. Aizen didn’t see it as a case of ex-lover and employee, he saw it as a matter of potential lover and a rival, he wasn’t giving Shinji a chance to prove his moral fibre, but a chance to rectify the error he’d made so many years ago. What he wanted was for Shinji to say ‘fire Luppi’, to deny all his current love interests and choose Aizen over all of them. That’s what this was all about: Aizen’s needs. Aizen needed Shinji to choose him over anyone else, even if that meant being a douche-bag and kicking Luppi’s ass to the curb without so much as an explanation why. That’s what Aizen wanted.
Then again, was it what Aizen wanted? Surely if he said ‘fire him’ he’d be playing right into Aizen’s hands, it’d be showing how weak he truly was, that – hell – he actually cared what the bookworm thought, and that Aizen had finally broken him too. Aizen wouldn’t want broken goods anymore than Shinji wanted to bend to Aizen’s will, he wanted his own individuality and his own power, and that wouldn’t come from just giving into Aizen’s implicit demands. Then again if he said ‘no’ he was denying Aizen everything, condemning himself to a life of pointless fucks who were never as good as what Aizen could offer, and he might even be stuck with Luppi for a lifetime. He hated to admit it but he missed the days of Aizen, the man had helped teach him everything he knew about sex and about life too, he missed the battles and the fights, he missed the kisses and the sex, he missed it all. Hell, it would be foolish to give in, completely stupid, and Hiyori and Kisuke would beat him to an inch of his life too, but would it really be that bad? Sure he and Aizen would probably kill each other after a week, but at least it’d be one hell of a week.
Shinji opened his mouth to answer but rolled his eyes as he continued to feel Aizen’s presence. It was hard to explain but he just knew the creepy, little shit was still standing over him, watching him, waiting for a response and ready to walk away if he didn’t get one. It pissed Shinji off. He’d hated it even back then, even when they were technically ‘dating’, knowing that Sosuke was always watching him from the corners of a room, and he still hated it now. Yeah, this was why he had to say ‘no, don’t fire Luppi’, cause he really couldn’t put up with a stalker.
“Why the fuck do you keep watching me?” Shinji snapped. “You want an answer, I’ll give you an answer, but it don’t give you no right to stare at me for the past twenty seconds like I’m a piece o’ meat.”
“Hmm?” Aizen replied lazily, clearly moving away to give Shinji room as the smell of expensive cologne became less strong and irritating, “How is it that you always know when I’m watching you?”
“I’ve felt you watching me since you were back in yer mother’s womb. You’ve always been watching me.”
“My, how scary to know that Hirako-san is always aware of me.”
“Tch, you’re the scary one, Sosuke.”
“Hmm, is that so?”
Shinji rolled his eyes despite the fact there was no way that Aizen could see him. It didn’t matter how you insulted Aizen, he always just shrugged it off like it didn’t make the blindest bit of difference. Didn’t anything ever annoy that man? One of these days Shinji was going to do something – something so horrific – that even Aizen would wince and show a flicker of anger. It’d be the best day of his life too, finally getting one over on that bastard.
He opened his mouth to snap back and respond, but no sooner than he did had Aizen bent close. It was so close that the scent of his hair was vibrant and alive, overwhelming Shinji’s senses, and so close that the soft, silky texture of his hair brushed against his cheek and woke him up to the situation at hand. It was such an intimate gesture that Shinji bristled at once and tensed his body, his mouth running dry as he felt that hot, wet breath against the sensitive part of his neck under his ear, and it took all his strength not to bend his head and allow full access to his smooth column of skin. He half-expected Aizen to nibble at his ear, or to kiss his cheek, but instead he felt the hot, rough muscle of his tongue on his flesh, and shuddered as Aizen licked a long line down his jawbone and then up to his lips, where he kissed gently and chastely. Shinji gasped and opened his mouth wide, desperate to allow Aizen entry, but the bastard pulled back, knowing that Shinji wanted more.
“So what is your answer, Shinji?”
It took a deep breath to collect himself and gather his thoughts. What was his answer? He couldn’t seriously fucking deny a man his job just because Mr. Fancy-Pants decided on a whim that it’d be a good decision, but at the same time he wanted to feel that tongue inside him once more. It was a tough choice, either way he’d be upsetting someone, and that’d either be innocent old Luppi or psycho old Aizen, and personally he wasn’t entirely sure which way was the way to go. Still, if he had to choose he might as well get it over with. Surely no one could fault him if he made the wrong choice, considering that bastard Aizen was the one making him do it? It’s not as though he had any real choice in the matter himself, right? Right. He’d simply state his answer and then to hell with the consequences.
“Fire him.”
There was a long silence before a somewhat shocked: “I must have misheard you. Would you please repeat that?”
“I said fire him.”
The silence came back again, this time for a good while longer. Shinji wasn’t sure if he’d said the right thing, it was hard to say if Aizen was being so silent because he was pissed off or because he was so relieved, but with a man like Aizen it was impossible to say, let alone guess. It was almost creepy how Aizen had such control of his emotions, able to pull and twist at them as he saw fit, playing with Shinji as if he was nothing more than a toy, and worst was how Shinji let him do it. He shouldn’t have been feeling scared, or nervous, and he certainly shouldn’t care what fucking Aizen thought, and yet here he was! He was nervous, actually nervous, wanting to know what the brunet felt, thought and what he wanted to happen. He wanted to know if he’d made the right choice, if this meant he and Aizen could go back to the way things were, and most of all he wanted to know that this wasn’t his fault. It was weird enough to think that he’d made Aizen the way he was, let alone that Luppi’s fate was decided because of him. He didn’t like that feeling, the feeling that someone else’s life was in his hands, and if Aizen didn’t say something soon -!
It was then he heard Aizen chuckle. Well, at least the old git was amused at any rate, which had to be a good sign, right? If he was lucky maybe he’d get untied sometime soon, then things would lead to make up sex, or even just a decent dinner, come to think of it he’d actually prefer dinner to the sex, he hadn’t eaten in so long that he could feel his stomach actually churning.
The only thing that was rather worrying was the footsteps walking away from him. Now that couldn’t be right, why the heck would Sosuke leave him tied up in a dark room all alone, not since he’d chosen to be with the jackass after all. He couldn’t really be walking away, could he? He couldn’t really be leaving Shinji all alone in a strange room without anyone to keep him company, whilst tied to a chair that was nailed into the floor? If he was then just how long was he planning on leaving him there? No. No, he wasn’t that sadistic. He wouldn’t just leave Shinji hanging unless there was a really good reason, and even then he wouldn’t dare, there was just no way. Yet when he saw the door open in the far distance, letting in a slither of moonlight, not enough to see clearly, but enough so that he could at least see Aizen’s silhouette in the doorframe, he knew something was going on, that the freaking jerk was actually planning on leaving him alone in the room. If that was really what was really what was going on then he’d freaking castrate Aizen whilst he slept, he swore to God! That bastard wouldn’t dare just walk out on him after all that! He just wouldn’t!
“You made the right choice, Shinji,” Aizen said softly and warmly. “Now I shall leave you alone to reflect on all your previous bad choices, and I shall hope that when I return you shall have realised just how hurtful your past choices have been to those around you. By the time I return Luppi-san will be fired, and as I have his actions on tape he will have no defence against the actions taken against him.” He opened the door widely and stepped out into the hall, but just as he made to close it he paused and looked up with a smile, and said with amusement, “you could at least be thankful I chose not to leave the video playing for you, now that would have been painful, would it not?”
The door hadn’t even closed when Shinji began screaming violent abuse.
* * *
“ – and what will you tell Kisuke? He’s going to kill you for sure!”
Renji rolled his eyes.
Jeez, didn’t this girl ever know when to quit? It was like he was stuck listening to a broken record, except with a lot more ‘ooh’ and ‘ah’ of the fan-girl variety. In fact if she wasn’t a girl – or more specifically Rukia – he just might have snapped by now and told her exactly what he felt! It wasn’t that she was being particularly annoying, it was just that the last thing he wanted to do, as he walked the last mile back home, was to start thinking about the consequences to his actions. Sure, Kisuke had been trying for years to get him to think before he acted, and it had finally been starting to work too, but for some reason when he saw Uryu self-control went flying out of the window, and he hadn’t thought things through, he’d just . . . acted.
He just wanted to pretend that – for one moment in time – nothing was wrong, that he hadn’t crashed over at Ichigo’s place, or made-out with Uryu, or even earned a slap as he tried to creep his way into third-base. It kind of made him want to blame Ichigo for all of this. The bastard had a rich boyfriend, one who wasn’t just a lawyer but had won a ton of money in a recent settlement! If they’d crashed over there then Rukia would have shared with that Nel brat and not seen a thing, and most of all they’d have been room enough that he wouldn’t have had to bunk next to Uryu and end up making out with the four-eyed freak! He wasn’t even sure what was worse, how guilty he felt about trying to push Uryu on or how he just knew Kisuke and Tessai would kick his ass if they ever found out . . . and they would find out. If Uryu didn’t say something then Renji just knew Ichigo would tell his dad who’d tell Uryu’s who’d tell his own, and when that happened he’d be expecting the lectures of a lifetime, with enough punishment that by the time his grounding was over he’d be in need of a pension.
Life just wasn’t fair . . . Sure, foster care had sucked as a kid, but at least he’d had Rukia and all his friends back in infant school, and it had been such a carefree time too, nothing to worry about except getting his next meal, and then life decided to spoil things for him. He’d somehow managed to hit junior school still alive, but lost Rukia in the process, and then senior school kicked off and things just seemed to get worse . . . He’d been in fights, gotten into a rivalry with Ichigo, ended up dating Yumi and losing Yumi, and now -? Now he’d started some sort of quasi-relationship with Uryu and possibly ended it on the same night! By the time college rolled around he’d probably be dead with his rubbish luck, assuming he got in of course, because the way his grades were dropping by the second . . . It was one big nightmare after another.
Maybe it was better to just tell Kisuke the truth and hear the hour-long saga about how he was forbidden from seeing Uryu again, and how wrong it was to try and push Uryu, and then wait for the killing blow . . .
“Yo, Earth to Renji?” Rukia said with a glower, poking him hard in the arm as they walked onwards. “Have you thought of an excuse yet? If not I want to be there when Urahara-san finds out, I can’t wait to see him dismember you and use your foot for a doorstop!”
“Yeah? Well why I don’t I hang around when you tell onii-sama about how you shared a bed with that Yamada kid, I bet it won’t be so funny then, will it?”
Rukia blushed brightly then snapped her head to one side and folded her arms. The dress she was wearing rustled slightly at the movement, and then shimmered in the beaming sunlight. It was a pretty damned nice dress actually, one of Uryu’s creations actually, which was reason enough to tease the cute, four-eyed freak, because anyone that good at designing women’s clothing was just begging to be teased. It made him wonder if Uryu had plans to be a designer when he left university, or if he wanted to be a surgeon with all that stitching, maybe he just wanted to take over from his father and design stuff on the side? He’d have to ask him when he next saw him.
He glanced ahead and saw the Urahara Shoten and groaned. It was his home and always would be, and he adored his parents and his siblings, but there was just something so dismally depressing about having an awesome night out and then returning to the shop. He could already hear Jinta screaming loudly at the top of his lungs, Ururu whining and crying, and Tessai-Otousan yelling loudly at the two whilst Kisuke was laughing in the distance with Yoruichi. Yeah, the shop had character, but a little too much character for so early in the morning. He wouldn’t have had to worry so much, but Ichigo had gotten a call at around seven o’clock from his Shinji pal. The guy had to be wasted, because from what Ichigo had said afterwards the blond was claiming he’d been kidnapped and spent most of last night getting out of some bondage, but he couldn’t get fully escape because the door was locked . . . It sounded like some weird adult movie that Yumichika had rented once, but apparently Ichigo had taken it seriously because he sent everyone home and went straight to Vizard headquarters. That kid was so gullible.
“If you must know,” Rukia snapped a little to gruffly, “Hanataro was the perfect gentleman. He’s also doing his medical degree at the moment, which is a lot more than I can say for you. Don’t think Uryu didn’t tell me about your last history essay, mister! I’ll be amazed if Kisuke pays up the money for next year’s tuition, seems like a waste to me.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Renji replied. “You’re just defensive because Kuchiki-sama thinks he’s such a catch. Rumour has it someone has an arranged marriage coming up to Yamada-kun, and who better to marry little Rukia than a doctor?”
They stopped for a minute by the wall that led into Urahara Shoten and paused, or at least Renji stopped to pause, Rukia was adamant on giving him a piece of her mind. It didn’t exactly do much to dispel the rumours, because surely if it was just rumour she’d have no reason to be so angry? He was almost tempted to head home for a second, but if he was going to be honest he didn’t really feel like it, because if he did go home Rukia would only follow him inside and. . . Well . . . He was rather embarrassed by his home.
He’d never admit it aloud because even if Kisuke never showed it the man would be heartbroken, and Tessai really would be devastated too. The two men really tried their best to make things feel like a home for their children, with Tessai always cooking and Kisuke always including them in household chores, and it was true they were all loved unconditionally and even a little overprotected by Tessai too. The problem was the shop was in itself a little shabby, and Ichigo always teased Renji for wearing out-of-date clothes, and if the lack of money itself wasn’t an issue his parents were.
Kisuke always set out to embarrass him in any way possible, and Tessai’s rather girly mood swings were just plain humiliating, sure he appreciated them for all they did for him, but that didn’t mean he wanted people knowing he was their son. The ‘innocent’ incidents didn’t help either. Like when Ichigo teased him about his clothes one night, and somehow the next morning Tessai had ‘innocently’ tried to help out by washing Ichigo’s clothes for the next morning and dyed them pink by mistake, or like how when he’d broken up with Yumichika someone had accidentally leaked a rather hideous photograph of him to the press, under the name of ‘Kisuke’ but using different kanji. There was no way he was heading in there with Rukia unless she absolutely made him, no way!
After a few minutes he tuned back in to hear the rest of what Rukia was yelling about. Did she really have to be so loud? If she got any louder then Kisuke and Tessai would realise he was lurking about and make him do some chores, or worse, invite Rukia in for tea and sweets.
“ – are you even listening to me, Renji? Seriously! You’re just ridiculous! You can’t talk to me like that, not after you tried molesting Uryu in the middle of a room full of Uryu’s friends!”
Then came one voice he really didn’t want to hear: “Ooh, you’d not supposed to be talking to Uryu! Boss Man said so himself! You’re in trouble!”
Great, this was just great . . .
Renji and Rukia both looked down to see a rather happy-looking Jinta leaning against the wall with arms folded across his work shirt. It was obvious he was working by the way he was calling their father ‘boss’ and wearing his uniform, he had to give it to the kid he had a sense of professionalism at least, but they both knew that if he got caught slacking Tessai would give him hell. Then again the little redhead obviously thought that getting his brother into trouble would make it all worth it, they’d practically been rivals since they’d been just twinkles in their mother’s eye, and that hadn’t changed over the years even since Kisuke had adopted them. To Jinta Renji was just the ‘big freeloader’ and the evil big brother, and he’d do whatever he could to get him in trouble, if it had been Ururu he could have at least bribed her or blackmailed her into shutting up, but Jinta was a whole other matter. Still, it was worth a try anyway, if he said the right things it was possible that baby brother wouldn’t say anything to get him into trouble . . .
“Yo, you better keep your mouth shut, brat,” Renji snapped, kicking his brother gently in his stomach, gaining a harsh glare in return. “If you say anything to Dad or Otousan then I’m telling Yuzu-chan that you wet the bed.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
It was almost cute how Jinta lowered his head and crossed his arms; he looked so adorable when he assumed that little pissed-off pose, like he was all grown-up when he was really just a kid. A lot of his mannerisms were exactly like Renji’s, but some of them were a lot like their fathers’, like his little angry pose was identical to how Tessai looked when he was contemplating or rather annoyed, and whilst that was cute it was also a little bit creepy. It just served to remind him of how disapproving Tessai was going to be when he found out what happened.
Ryuken had banned Uryu from seeing Renji other than to drop off the occasional homework and check on his health, and it wasn’t as if Kisuke could go against his friend’s wishes after all, and so that meant Renji had an all out ban from seeing Uryu too. Ururu and Tessai had found it sweet, like a Romeo and Juliet kind of deal, but Kisuke hadn’t seen a romantic side to it and merely threatened to castrate Renji with a scalpel if he spoke to Uryu at all except for schoolwork. He wasn’t even allowed in the hospital anymore unless he was in need of medical attention, and he was banned from the school grounds except for lessons in case he ran into Uryu at any point. It was crazy, but it wasn’t exactly Kisuke being unreasonable, because he couldn’t go against his friend’s wishes. The problem was that Jinta knew all of this, and that meant he was in an awesome position to blackmail his big brother if he wanted to do so, it was just a matter of scaring the brat into keeping quiet. It shouldn’t be too much of a problem; he wasn’t exactly a smart brat after all.
“But if you weren’t supposed to be talking to him, you’re kind of stupid for molesting him,” Jinta said a little roughly. He obviously judged the situation as being that, if anyone was stupid enough to go against Kisuke’s orders, then they deserved to get the crap kicked out of him for it. “Hey, what does that word even mean anyway? ‘Molesting’? I thought that was a bad word, like something bad people do?”
“Huh? Oh! It’s – it’s nothing! It means - . . .”
Renji looked to Rukia for some support. It wasn’t like Jinta was a naïve kid, he’d had questions from an early age about sexuality and things, asking why he had two daddies or where did babies come from, and Renji could remember all those questions being answered honestly. He was still a kid though so a lot of stuff was left out or glossed over, and so it wasn’t exactly weird that they hadn’t taught him the meaning of the word ‘molest’. It was just bad luck that Rukia had to use it in a shouting match against him, and that Jinta had to pick the word up and start questioning it. It was normal for kids to be curious and ask questions, to want to know what words meant, but he couldn’t tell him honestly because Kisuke and Tessai would kill him . . . not so much for explaining the word, because they believed in openness, but they’d kill him for using the word and exposing it to Jinta-kun. Still, Rukia was the one who started this problem so she could be the one to fix it.
“It means to sing karaoke!” Rukia chirped, and judging by her huge smile she obviously thought that her rather random explanation would be a good one too, “your brother and Uryu spent all of last night singing karaoke! That’s all! So it’s just a very adult word for singing karaoke! Isn’t that right, Renji?”
“Err, yeah, sure.”

Jinta scowled upwards at Rukia with cold, narrowed eyes. It was a tactic he’d again learned from Tessai, because after a few seconds of intense staring most of the time his victims would crack and confess to lying, only a rare few who could fight against it, like Karin or Uryu . . . Sadly Kisuke and Renji were the two who cracked instantly, and usually ended up blathering insanely until they’d officially dug their own graves, he could only hope Rukia was stronger than that.
He turned and looked at Rukia, she was obviously nervous under the intense glare but seemed to be holding up well. She lifted her hands up in a sign of surrender and closed her eyes a little, letting out a very nervous laugh as she eventually took to waving her hands in a very appeasing way, trying to get Jinta to calm down. So far it was going well. She looked nervous under his glare, which was normal, but she didn’t look ready to crack. Hopefully Jinta would eat it up and go back off to work, and then never ever mention the word again, or at least not for a few years when he’d embarrassingly use it in the wrong context or something. It was then when he saw the devilish gleam in Jinta’s eyes that he knew the kid hadn’t brought it at all, and the way he was smiling . . . crap, he might not know what he word meant but he’d worked out that it was bad, very bad! He – he wouldn’t, would he? Surely he didn’t have the guts to start spouting words out when he didn’t know what they meant? Then again, who’d they tell off? It wouldn’t be innocent, little Jinta that was for sure, so what did the kid have to lose? Nothing!
The two brothers looked each other in the eye, sizing each other up, both knowing what was about to come, and both knowing they had to act fast . . . sadly Jinta was all that faster. Renji dived for his bratty brother and missed him by an inch as he ran towards the shop, he chased after him as quickly as he could but he just couldn’t seem to catch up! Rukia followed quickly after him, but he was certain she just wanted to see the drama rather than actually help catch Jinta, still it was nice having someone by his side as he tried to catch the demon brat.
“Dad! Dad!” Jinta screamed.
They both ran past Ururu as she swept up in the yard, but whereas Jinta kept on running Renji snatched the broom from his sister’s hands and turned it so he was holding the brush end, then proceeded to try and beat Jinta with the handle end. He worked in a few good hits and although he realised it really wouldn’t help his case it felt pretty good, at the very least Jinta’s arms would be bruised to hell by tomorrow. Sadly by the time he’d reached the shop itself Jinta had already slid inside, stopping right by Kisuke’s feet as he sat sipping on a cup of green tea, whilst Tessai – seeing Renji’s abuse – caught him around the waist before he could follow inside.
“Dad! Renji was molesting Uryu! Renji was molesting Uryu!” Jinta climbed to his feet, turned around and pointed menacingly at his brother and Renji continued to fight against his father and try to kill his brother, “I heard him, see! Rukia was yelling at him and said he was molesting Uryu, and then they tried to tell me it meant they were singing karaoke! Do something, Boss!”
Renji decided it was probably best to quit struggling. Kisuke had obviously heard enough and he knew it was pointless to try and avoid the hell that was to come, especially as his father was grinning ear to ear and waving his fan about with an almost nonchalant air. There was no way he was amused by all of this, which meant if anything was amusing him it was the idea of dishing out a punishment, which meant that Renji’s life was about to seriously go from bad to worse. There had to be a way to spin this so he looked like the good guy, right? Although that probably wouldn’t work, not now he’d tried to beat Jinta to death . . .
“Well, well, well,” Kisuke said cheerfully, “look who’s finally home. I would say I’m surprised, but I’m really not. Who else would dare to head to Matsumoto’s Bar when he’s been forbidden, spend the night at Kurosaki-kun’s without permission, try to beat his baby brother with a broom and then have the excuse that he did all just so he could molest a boy he was forbidden from seeing?”
“It – it was Uryu’s fault! He – he came on to me!”
He cringed as he heard Rukia burst out into laughter beside him, and realised he’d said exactly the wrong thing. Kisuke’s eyes seemed to darken underneath his hat as he thought long and hard about what to say next, before settling on the words that no child ever wants to hear from his parents . . .
“It’s time we had a serious talk, Renji.”
- 22
- 23
- 24
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Romance and Rivalries