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Chained to an Escapist	By : Lances Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2564 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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- 2
A/N: My contribution to Byakuya/Gin/Byakuya ship (if such a ship even exists). Somehow I think Byakuya needs to snap out of his apathy - and Gin needs some understanding and love (after he's been properly punished for being sucha naughty boy, of course!)

WARNINGS: Mature content, male/male pairing(s) aka YAOI, foul language, torture and a raw, traditional master/slave -composition. Not for kids under 14 years old. Also, there may be very long periods between the updates as I only write when I have inspiration.

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Chained to an Escapist

by Lances

Chapter 1: The Prisoner

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There are some transgressions... sins... betrayals... things that go too deep to be forgotten... or forgiven.
Wind caught a lone petal of a pale cherry blossom and carried it high, high up into the sky. After playing with it for a while, it got bored and released her captive, letting the petal fall, fall down, through a tall, narrow window. Swallowed by darkness now, blind, forlorn, the lone petal flipped upside down and fainted, finally descending on soft, white cotton. The Tower of Pentinence shone brilliantly in the light of the forenoon sun, yet the brilliance never reached the silver-haired man sitting within the thick walls.
How can you go on... when you cannot go back?
Pale hands slowly reached the petal, lifting it almost lovingly closer to a pair of clear, aquamarine eyes. Then those eyes glazed over and the petal was crushed, torn in pieces by trembling fingers. And nothing remained but the particles of former beauty.
You cannot go on. You cannot go back. You cannot do anything but... die.
Closing his eyes, Ichimaru Gin frowned before moulding his face into its usual smirk. Somewhere, somehow, he had lost his track of time and sense of reality. It was not here, not now, but decades ago... When, where, how? He did not know his own history; he did not know his own story, anymore. He couldn�t remember if he had ever had a reason to live, or a reason to die. What was he? Who was he? Who had he once been? With slender arms that held no more power, he embraced himself and reasoned: he had once had a life. He must have had a life. Surely he had not always been this confused? Surely he had not always been this lost? Fighting the growing signs of amnesia, he remembered some familiar faces, smiling at him, reaching out for him.
There was a time for everything. There was a time to learn from one�s mistakes, and there was a time to pay for them. Gin, however, was already long past paying for them; in his fragile mind, he was now re-living that something he had once called his fabulous life in Hueco Mundo.
He was re-living his death.
But he was not dead. Not physically, anyway. But emotionally... who knew? He had already forgotten what it felt like to feel. The mind games he had learned at an early age from Aizen Sousuke had turned against him at some point, blurring his own mind, raping it with images and occurrences that might have been real, might have been illusory. Images and occurrences that had happened in one reality nonetheless � no matter if said reality was real or not.
Gin was rapidly losing it.
In the distance, far below, a hollow clanking sound of a door opened could be heard. It echoed all the way up to the bitterly treated prisoner, making him slowly stand up on his wavering feet. Hands in tight cuffs and a red choker of those sentenced to death around his neck, he took support from the cold wall as he turned to face the staircase where several footsteps were rapidly approaching.
His guards? His executors? He did not know, nor did he care. He could not do anything about it, anyway. He was powerless in this place, inside this reiatsu-draining tower, and could not even lift a finger in his own defense. Not that it was the place's fault; even if Gin was allowed outside, he still would be just as defenseless. His soul-reaper powers had been sealed off the very moment he had been captured, and as a proof of that cruel ceremony, a large, ornate, dark green tattoo was now spreading like a thick, irregular spiderweb across his lower back. Some poison-coloured tendrils even reached up to his sides, licking his pronounced ribs, as well as curled downwards over the soft skin of his lower abdomen. And even after all these several, seemingly endless weeks - or months, Gin honestly could not say - those markings still burned.
The footsteps echoed louder now and Gin lifted his chin, listening. When his three visitors finally came into view, he calmly drew his parched lips into his trademark smirk. If he was surprised to see the rather unconventional group � Shigekuni Yamamoto-Genryuusai, the Commander-General of the Gotei 13, together with Soifon from the Special Forces and his former friend Matsumoto Rangiku � he made sure he didn't show his mystification to anyone who might be inclined to examine his facial expressions. Not that there would have been much to examine, since he did not exactly vary said expressions in the first place.
�Former Captain of the 3rd Division, Ichimaru Gin," Yamamoto-chotaichou began with a strict tone of voice, his long white beard moving slightly as he hit the rocky floor with his cane for emphasis. �We have come to see you.�
Gin would have liked to roll his eyes at the most obvious - but he refrained from doing so because he would have had to open them at first. Instead, he just settled himself more comfortably against the uncomfortable wall, tilting his head to the side in question.
Matsumoto Rangiku took a step closer, her arms crossed below her impressive bosom. �How are you doing, Ichimaru-san?"
Gin gave her a positively shitty smile. "Just splendidly, my dear Rangiku-chan. Other than the fact I�m gonna die tomorrow, my life is just peachy."
Rangiku looked miserable and turned away from her considerably tired-looking, malnourished and sickly pale former friend. Yamamoto-chotaichou grunted at Gin's hardly veiled disrespect and thumped the floor with his cane again, wanting to restore order and get back to the real reason for their visit. "I�ll have you know, Ichimaru, that it is not a general habit of mine to visit condemned prisoners on the eve of their execution. However, at Matsumoto-san's special request, I have made an exception in your case."
Gin narrowed his eyes at the old goat, soft threads of his overgrown, silvery-white hair falling across his vision. "I am absolutely flattered, Sir, I assure you. Who would've suspected such unexpected attention from your highness?"
�Shut your trap, you insolent boy, and listen to what I have to say,� Yamamoto barked.
Gin could feel the angry reiatsu of both the Commander-General and Soifon swirl around him, despite the fact that the tower was supposed to be made of death stone. Weakened from the past weeks without proper nourishment and exercise, Gin�s knees buckled and he swayed, the cuffs around his wrists clattering as he took additional support from the hard, white stone behind him.
"Gin!" Rangiku exclaimed worriedly, her pale blue eyes shining like ethereal beacons in the shadowy hall. "Are you feeling alright, Gin?"
"N-nothing to worry about, darling," Gin shook his head and restored his smirk, wishing she would hate him like everybody else did. Or maybe she did, but she didn�t show it. She was his childhood companion, after all, and nothing could erase those unforgettable memories they shared together. Not even the amnesia that was slowly spreading and clouding his mind. And Rangiku... She probably still held those memories dear and therefore acted like a caring friend, despite everything that had happened � that stupid bitch. "Try spending three months in this tower practically without food. Tends to make your body a bit... sensitive... towards hostile reiatsu."
Rangiku just nodded, looking sad again, playing with her necklace that sank deep between her handsome breasts.
"The reason why we are here today," Yamamoto-chotaichou continued with a purposeful accent, not wanting to draw out this visit longer than necessary, "is because Matsumoto-fukutaichou did some unprovoked research in the library maintained by the Kuchiki family and found something interesting. As you probably know, the Kuchiki clan is responsible for writing down Seireitei�s history.�
Gin didn�t know where this conversation was heading, and just nodded, still feeling a bit weak. He would let the old man speak. For now.
�There are documents in that library that date back hundreds of years,� Yamamoto continued. �An adventurer such as your friend here could find almost anything in the files kept within those walls: tales from the distant past, detailed depictions of old battles, letters of varying importance written by our predecessors...�
�How utterly fascinating,� Gin said with dripping sarcasm.
�...even ancient, long-forgotten laws.�
Yamamoto�s old, hoary voice echoed from the walls like whispers of invisible ghosts and Gin shivered; the cold evening breeze decided to pay a visit, coiling its tendrils around his thin body, burning his gut with ice. �For your information, sir,� he struggled to reply, �most of the old laws are already annulled and replaced with new ones.�
�Most, yes,� Rangiku interfered with a whisper. �But not all of them.�
Gin frowned and tossed his head. �So? What of it?�
"I wouldn�t be so cocky if I were you,� piped up Soifon, who was examining her nails near the only source of light, namely the window. Gin briefly wondered if it was warm outside. �It is your future we�re talking about, here, Ichimaru,� she pointed out.
�Some future,� Gin huffed with a sneer, squeezing his hands in fists.
�Enough!� Yamamoto glared threateningly at everyone before he continued. �Ichimaru Gin, it is my duty as the Commander-General and the current administrative ruler of Seireitei to bring forth this matter, even though the personal interests of the majority of the other captains are strongly against it. Consequently, I will tell you that a document was found in the Kuchiki library, concerning the alternative treatment of those prisoners sentenced to death. As it happens, this old law is still valid, and ultimately might save you from the execution, were you to submit to the terms it puts forth."
Gin�s face slowly turned from snide to serious, his smirk fading and giving way to shocked disbelief. Slowly, he grasped the white cotton of his plain yukata, his fingers trembling slightly. A chance to avoid death? Who would not welcome that? Yet there was a strange, almost malignant glint in old Yamamoto's gaze, and it made Gin suspect a trap.
"And what, if I may ask, are those terms?"
Yamamoto-chotaichou gave him a vicious little smile, accompanied by a shit-eating grin from Soifon. "Those sentenced to death may escape their punishment only if they consent to a lifelong slavery under one of the Four Noble Families - presuming, of course, that one of these families is in want of a slave or otherwise does not oppose to having one."
Gin just... stared. Well, not exactly stared, since staring in the traditional sense of staring was rather abnormal for him, seeing as his eyes were always in slits. But still.
�Are you serious?� he finally scoffed. �You want me to decide if I want to die - or become somebody's slave?�
�That is basically the reason for our visit, yes,� Soifon smiled as agreeably as she could, probably knowing it would irk Gin.
"Well, then. Of course I'll accept the terms,� Gin smiled back at her, just as pleasantly, �over my dead body. You can get back to the matter tomorrow, after my execution."
"Don't be stupid, Gin!" Rangiku snapped. "Don't you see? If one of the Noble Families will take you as their slave, your life will be spared!�
�...what life?"
"Gin..." the blonde fukutaichou pleaded, stepping closer. "Don't be like that!"
"Go to hell, bitch."
Eyes blazing, Rangiku closed the remaining distance between them and bitch-slapped Gin across the face, leaving a red handprint on his pale cheek. Gin swayed with the impact as Rangiku began her rant. �I won't let you die, you hear me? I know it sounds ridiculous but I still care for you, Gin. I know there's a kind and caring person behind that ghastly facade of yours! The Ichimaru Gin I once knew - that fun, vivacious and clever boy who once cared for others, once cared for me - -" she swallowed and looked away, tears glistening in her eyes. "Gin... That boy... He can�t have disappeared completely.�
Drip... Drip... Drip... Dibbles of blood.
Blood is the same... just the heart�s had a change.
Drip... Drip...Drip... Drops of liquid ice.
A little winter shower - ah, isn�t it fuckin� nice?
Gin shuddered as his inner demons mocked him, singing a song he�d heard from Ulquiorra Schiffer in Hueco Mundo one miserable night. Gin smiled; there had been a time when he had supposedly known himself. There had been a time he had known life. But now, his mind screamed, the games had gone too far: all he knew now was emptiness. His heart was like a hole of a hollow, devoid of any proper feeling... still beating, yes, but not alive...
Had he really been alive, once?
�Maybe the Ichimaru Gin you once knew,� he whispered, swallowing his confusion, �never existed in the first place?�
�Rubbish!� Rangiku slapped him again, her voice sounding strained now. �No matter what you try to tell yourself, I know you better. There was a time when you were a sweet, wonderful kid without a trace of that maliciousness that has now possessed you. And I know, in your heart, you are still that same person. You just can't remember it now.�
�There are many things I can't remember, anymore. And then there are those things I don't want to remember, anymore,� Gin sneered, despite his chest was aching with an unfamiliar feeling. No, not unfamiliar � he just didn�t recognize it, anymore, because he hadn't felt it in such a long time. "I have changed. I can't return to the past, because that past has been wiped away from me. Just like my future."
"Gin... Your future is still wide open." Rangiku traced a gentle hand across his reddened cheek. "Open your eyes and see what's before you."
An overpowering feeling of fear washed over Gin and he jerked away from her touch. �You�ve lost yer marbles, sugar � or maybe they hang around your neck, nowadays, slipping so effortlessly between yer...�
Not even slightly amused, Rangiku growled and wrapped her fingers around Gin�s neck, her nails scratching the skin above the red collar. �Don�t start with me, Ichimaru Gin! I�m quite serious here. I know slavery isn�t perhaps the best way to solve situations in general, but in your case it�s better than death, isn�t it?�
Gin could not reply, being still choked and all.
�I remember those glorious times when Soul Society still fully supported slavery,� Yamamoto-chotaichou reminisced. �I remember it well, even if I was only a child back then.�
Rangiku let go of Gin who gasped for air and instantly forced a sneer. �Th-that must�ve been during the 17th Century or something, ye old fart.�
�Ah, yes,� Yamamoto smiled vaguely; the kind of smile only old people manage to pull out when their thoughts are lost in ancient times. �We had altogether twelve slaves in the family; my grandfather hand-picked them all personally. It was very useful to have slaves around. They never caused any trouble, either, because I believe they were initially grateful that they didn�t have to face the �Flame Bird� that was Soykuyaku's more commonly used name back then. Death sentences were very popular at the time, you see.�
�How very... uninteresting,� Gin wryly noted. �Besides, as far as I know, ya aren't even nobility. How could ya have had slaves?�
�I was adopted,� was the sort reply, and the old man seemed to finally snap back to the present time, waking up from his memoirs. �But that is neither here nor now. Have you considered?�
�I don�t think there�s anything to consider.�
�You would rather go to Hell, then, than become someone�s servant?� Soifon asked, genuinely astonished. �Because, seriously, I don�t think someone like you will be reincarnated on earth.�
�Yes, Soifon-taichou,� Gin sighed. �I�d rather let the devil take my soul than become Yamamoto-chotaichou�s personal little play thing.�
�Oh, I think you have mistaken me, Ichimaru,� the General-Commander harrumphed, his wrinkled cheeks flushing. �I am too old to take a slave as fierce-spirited as you are and, as you said, I am not of the noble branch. In fact, there is currently only one noble family whose head is able to meet the slave-master�s standards and is also powerful enough to keep you under control.� The old man looked at Gin sharply. �I believe you know who I am talking about.�
Gin shifted and curled his toes. His feet were bare, and the cold wafting up from the stony floor had already made them half numb, bluish in colour. He looked at his toes, then, feeling strangely nervous. �Kuchiki Byakuya,� he whispered.
�Yes.� Yamamoto leaned heavily onto his cane. �Kuchiki Byakuya, the Captain 6th division as well as the 28th head of the Kuchiki clan. However... As of yet, Kuchiki-taichou has not agreed to take you. We are still negotiating.�
Shivering with inner cold, Gin glanced at his visitors. "You're wasting your time. He'd never agree."
Gin, if anyone, knew how much the Kuchiki family hated him. He had inflicted them personal harm, after all. First, he had tortured Rukia for years - both mentally and physically - and then, finally, he had pierced the ribcage of that beautiful but cold-hearted Kuchiki boss with his cursed zanpakutou as well.
"It's hopeless," he breathed in conclusion, surprising even himself with how quiet, how weak his voice had suddenly become.
"Not hopeless," smiled Soifon, sounding astoundingly sympathetic as she waved a dismissive hand and shifted under the narrow line of sunshine. "Kuchiki-taichou is simply unwilling to proceed in the matter before he hears your opinion about it. But, I must confess... It might take some time and effort to actually get him to agree and sign the necessary papers."
"And we don't have that time. Tomorrow morning is fast approaching," Rangiku added, "so please, tell us you're willing to try this out, Gin. Please."
Gin felt the coldness spreading from his feet slowly upwards, coiling agonizingly around his lower abdomen. �Even if I did consent,� he said, slowly, concentrating on appearing calm, �Kuchiki Byakuya is the last person in Seireitei who would want to take me.�
�You don�t know that,� Rangiku frowned. �As a matter of fact, the family's currently in dire need of some extra workers. His sister is getting married within a few months and the wedding preparations are in full swing. Just yesterday I heard Rukia complain to Renji she can�t trust her bridesmaid, Orihime-chan, to take care of anything important - and she can't find the time to do it all by herself, either. She's just dying to find someone reliable to help her.�
Gin looked at her as if she was a few cans short of a six pack. "Did ya just fuckin' suggest I become Kuchiki Rukia's second bridesmaid or something?"
�Honestly!� Soifon sighed and fixed her poise, apparently trying for arrogant. "This conversation is leading nowhere and, frankly speaking, I don�t have time for this. I�m having dinner with Yoruichi-sama in thirty minutes. So, Ichimaru Gin, tell us once and for all: are you even considering this exceptional offer, or are you determined to meet the end of your days? Answer carefully, because you won�t be asked again.�
Being silent for a long time, Gin shifted from one numb foot to another, unconsciously chewing his lower lip in thought. His eyes darted from one place to thirteen others as he tried to make sense of what was his so-called life. The sun was shining down from a clear sky; the glow on Soifon's white haori was sparkling yellow. And Gin knew it was the time. His future was now spread wide open and he could see two serpentine roads disappearing into the obscure distance before him. Both of these roads were dark in their own special way, coloured in different shades of black. He would now have to take one of them, because there was nothing between them, not even emptiness.
At least you have a choice now...
Roads. Why the fuck always roads? Gin hated roads with much passion. He never knew which one he should take. Did he want to die? It wasn't really a question of wanting; everybody had to die one day. But how soon? Could he go on living, instead, if he had to become someone�s servant, someone's slave? He very much doubted it. As a former Captain, Gin was proud and deeply resented the idea of lowering himself to the level of the local scum that was usually hired to take care of the nobility�s household tasks. He�d had many servants, himself, before he�d left it all behind and started a new life Hueco Mundo as Aizen-sama's right-hand man. And even in Hueco Mundo he�d always been served by Aizen�s little pets; weak, pathetic excuses for hollows without a mind of their own.
But aren�t you the same, Ichimaru Gin? Aren't you also without a mind of your own?
�Well?� Soifon urged.
Inhaling deeply, Gin filled his lungs with the chilly tower air and brought his shackled hands over his face, covering his pale, somewhat ugly features. Then, feeling all energy escape him, he slumped against the wall and remained there, motionless. Pride had no room in the Tower of Pentinence. It didn�t matter what kind of a man he had once been, just like it didn�t matter what he was now. It had been easy to have others, like Aizen-sama, making decisions for him. But now he couldn�t rely on anyone else; he was alone. He would have to make a decision on his own, a decision he would carry with him forever, through his entire life � or death, should he choose the easier path.
Lowering his hands, Gin looked up through the curtain of his silvery hair, fastening his eyes on Yamamoto-chotaichou who was watching him intently. �Yamamoto-sama," he finally said with a small smile, "let�s play a li�l game. Imagine me as Kuchiki-taichou�s slave. Can you see it in your mind�s eye?�
The old man lifted his chin and knitted his bushy eyebrows together. Then, apparently still in deep thought, he loosened and tightened his grip on his cane before giving a surprisingly evasive answer: �Perhaps not. But I certainly would like to see it, Ichimaru-san.�
Gin wondered why the chotaichou, the strictest and least lenient man in Seireitei, would want to spare his life all of a sudden - but eventually decided he didn't either want or need to hear those reasons. Reasons were rarely of any importance, after all, and Gin was already too tired with his miserable life to care for other people�s opinions.
�Alright. So picture this in your hoary old mind, Yamamoto-sama," Gin chuckled. "I kneel before Kuchiki-taichou - I am his slave. He gives me multiple tasks, but what can I do? Because, you know, I can�t really do anything. I can�t cook, I can�t wash dishes, I can�t do laundry and I�ve never changed the sheets. I don�t play any instruments so I could amuse him, and I sure as hell can�t sing. I suck at gardening and have never gone grocery shopping in my life - and all possible household animals would rather eat me than let me take care of them. I flatly refuse to be Kuchiki Rukia�s bridesmaid. I flatly refuse doing any kind of sexual favours to anyone in that household. I don�t know the quirks of the tea ceremony, and I know a pansy noble like Kuchiki Byakuya couldn't possibly drink tea served in the wrong way. I am not sociable; nobody�s ever liked me, not even the Espada - and I can tell you they didn�t have too many friends, any of them, and back then I was even trying to be pleasing. I can�t control my expressions, I can�t control my words and I sure as hell can�t control my actions. I can�t but hate this whole situation, because I really can�t pretend to be someone I�m not. In fact, the only thing I can do,� Gin shrugged and looked out the window, �is to annoy the hell out of other people. Meaning, I would easily be the lousiest slave ever seen in the whole wide history of Seireitei.�
Nobody spoke, and Gin let the words sink into his listeners. With deliberate slowness, he moved away from the wall and edged past Soifon, closer to the narrow window. Silently, he craned his neck and looked out, measuring Seireitei�s wide and beautiful sky. After a while, he reluctantly turned back to his visitors and looked at them, giving them each a full blast of his mesmerizingly bright gaze that was usually so very rarely seen.
"I would not make a good slave," he repeated. �However... Just to get that one last chance to annoy Kuchiki Byakuya," he smiled, "I will take that offer and see what comes out of it.�
Rangiku let out a breath she�d been holding and clasped her hands together, looking ready to cry with relief and joy. �Oh, Gin!�
Even Soifon looked satisfied and produced a piece of paper and a pencil from somewhere. �Alright. Please sign this paper that states your consent, and I�ll close the deal with Kuchiki-taichou later tonight.�
�You sound very sure he'll take me,� Gin observed as he scribbled down his name, although it was slightly difficult with chained hands and against the uneven windowsill.
�One can hope," Soifon retrieved the paper and the pen. "But, like Yamamoto-sama already said, Kuchiki-taichou wasn't exactly thrilled when we first brought this matter into his attention. Therefore, we can�t really promise you anything. You�ll find out his decision tomorrow, though. If you�re still alive at 8:01 in the morning, it means he�s agreed to take you.�
Gin just nodded in reply, his body filling with unusual anxiousness. "Alright."
Rangiku came to hug him, even though Yamamoto-chotaichou looked at her disapprovingly. �I�m sure everything will be fine. I�ll even bribe Kuchiki-taichou to sign that paper if he otherwise won't. And once he�s signed it, he can�t get rid of you anymore, not in three months at least.�
�What do you mean?� Gin tried to push her away, her breasts almost hurting him while they bounced against his fragile body. �What three months?�
�Did I forget to tell you? I�m sorry; it must've slipped my mind.� Soifon didn�t look in the least sorry. �This contract is valid for the first three months only. During that time, Kuchiki Byakuya must keep you under his roof no matter what. He can�t send you away, and he can�t kill you. He has to give you a chance to prove yourself worthy of being his slave.�
Gin paled. �And what happens when the three months are up?�
�He will be given the chance to back out from the deal,� Soifon explained. �If he doesn�t like you, he is allowed to send you back to this Tower to be executed � or he can sell you to another noble family, should that family meet the regulations of the law and agree to a similar deal we have made just now.�
"Hell, yeah, I�m totally surprised you didn�t mention this earlier,� Gin seethed.
�But,� Soifon lifted her forefinger, next to which Gin could see her beautiful, ornate weapon curl around her middle one, �if he decides to keep you, it�s a lifetime deal.�
Feeling completely drained, Gin slid down the wall behind him, slumping into a sitting position. "I'm lucky, then, aren't I? My lifetime's already doomed to be short.�
Rangiku looked apologetic. �Gin... You should�ve read the contract before signing it. There's no reason to get so distressed over it now.�
�Will I be given a chance to back out from the deal during those three months if I don't like it?� he asked, willing his heartbeats to slow down.
Rangiku sighed. �I�m afraid... not.�
�Why not? What if I don't wanna be a slave? What if I prefer to die?�
�Then you must ask your master to kill you,� Yamamoto-sama said gravely, impatience seeping into his words. �He may do it, or he may not. It will be his call."
"But..."
"We will leave you now, Ichimaru Gin. Spend the rest of this day deep in thought and embrace your dearest memories. Stay awake at night and look at the stars above. Watch for the first beams of the sun when it rises - bathe in the dawn. Because, knowing Kuchiki-taichou�s stubbornness... you might never see any of it ever again."
His guests left. The door in the distance clanked closed. Feeling nauseous, even though there was really nothing to puke out since he couldn't even remember when he had last eaten, Gin crawled under the window and massaged his cold, aching wrists. As if by accident, his eyes fell on the pitiful remnants of the cherry blossom petal that now lay wilted on the stony floor, scattered here and there. He smiled; somehow, he could identify.
Silently, he wondered if he should be crying.
--
TBC...
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Chained to an Escapist