Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Happy Ending ❯ Once Upon a Time ( Chapter 1 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: MibuWolf 
Anime/Manga: Bleach Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Psychological / Romance | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 01.03.2008 | Pages: 4 | Words: 6.3K | Visits: 700 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Bleach Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Psychological / Romance | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 01.03.2008 | Pages: 4 | Words: 6.3K | Visits: 700 | Status: Work In Progress
Disclaimer: I do not own the Bleach Characters though I do own the original ones. I also don't own the lyrics to the song or the song itself, “Crucify My Love” by X-Japan.
A.N: Read, review… flames are welcome.
Chapter One: Once Upon a Time Present Day- Saratoga, New York
“There's always a hero.”
Ichigo scoffed as he gazed out from the cracks of his boarded window. The wooden platelets, though thick, couldn't disguise the gloom of the new morning. Another fucking rainy day. Would wonders never cease? He picked at the grain of the wood for a moment before turning and accosting his room with a glare. A water-stained mattress and scratchy brown blanket glared back.
He stomped barefoot across the cold wooden floor and planted a swift kick into the side of his bed, muttering in disgust when his foot confronted a used condom. Nasty fucks. The previous john had obviously wanted to leave behind a keepsake. He kicked it off and grimaced when it made a sucking sound. Really. Today couldn't get any worse.
Crossing his thin arms over his chest, he flopped down onto the makeshift bed and glared at the low ceiling. It had been a long time since he dreamed of his “other” life. That particular Pandora's box brought too many painful memories. He cupped a thin hand against his cheek, the memory of pale fingers on his face still lingering. Frowning, he turned onto his side and closed his eyes.
“Grandma… Where ever you are, are you thinking of me?” He whispered softly. No, of course she couldn't be. She was dead. It had been fourteen years since he could remember her giving him that sweet smile of hers. And those stories. He could always count on her to tell him a fairytale that would both ease the pain of the current situation and teach a moral, all in the same moment. `What story would she tell me now,' he wondered, `if she were still alive?' He smiled bitterly, opening his eyes. `Maybe one about a sweet prince coming to rescue his fair princess.'
Ichigo stared blankly at the peeling, ocher wallpaper. Shit had better coloring than these walls. He reached his arm out in front of him, grasping at the edges of the curling paper and tugged. The thin paper released its fragile hold on the wall and ripped, fluttering to the floor. The tan of the dry wall wasn't much better. `My memories are like this wallpaper; colorful and fragile, hiding the true ugliness behind each.'
A sharp rap sounded on his door before it flew open. “Get the fuck off your ass and get to work. The johns aren't going to please themselves.” A heavy, booted foot landed solidly against his side. He folded in half, clutching at the tender area, and turned his head. His brown eyes locked onto the dark denim of the current house guard's pants. What was his name again? Bert…? He gaze traveled up the pants and onto the yellowish-brown plaid of the man's shirt tucked in to most likely hide that beer belly. Ocher WAS such an ugly color. His eyes drifted over the thin lips and bulbous nose before locking onto his pale, beady eyes. Yeah, Bert. His baldhead gleamed in the light emanating from the hallway, emphasizing the sweat beading on his forehead.
Ichigo swallowed the bile that threatened to well up from his throat. Sweating wasn't a good sign. It indicated one of two things when it came to Bert. A.) The parlor was teeming with impatient lecherous men, eager for a quick fuck or B.) Bert wanted some lecherous action himself. The lack of noise from downstairs answered the most dominating suspicion. An involuntary shudder coursed through his thin body as the guard reached for his belt buckle.
Bert chuckled darkly as he licked his thin lips and indicated with a nod of his head what he wanted Ichigo to do. He crawled off the mattress wearily and reached shaking hands out to unbuckle the man's belt. Not this. Never this but… always this. Why? Why?! Why… He closed his eye as his lips connected with the pulsing length of the guard's erection. He wouldn't throw up… he wouldn't throw up. Bert shoved it in to the hilt, gagging him.
`Don't think, just do it. Don't think, just do it…' The thought ran rampant in his head, drowning out the moans of pleasure. The corners of his mouth split, trickling a thin trail of blood down the sides of his chin. Always, always…
~*~*~ ~*~*~
The little boy stared up at the pro-offered hand, the tears on his cheeks ignored for the moment. The funeral for both of his grandparents had commenced and ended, leaving him alone. They were both gone, gone to the place his mother was and his father would never be. At least, that's what his old Aunt Yuki had said. He would never see them again. He would go and live somewhere far away, with this nice man who said he was a distant uncle.
He stared up at the craggy face of his “uncle” and stifled a small sob. He would rather be with Grandma and Gramps in that “Heaven” place. Maybe… “Is my new home near Heaven?” He asked, suddenly hopeful.
The man grinned and tipped his hat back, gazing at the sky. “Yeah, I would imagine it to be so,” he boomed out. He looked back down at the boy and winked. “I know! Maybe you can visit your grandparents when we get there…” He ruffled the boy's red hair before reaching out his hand again. “So what do you say you and I get going so we can meet up with them, huh?”
The little boy smiled for the first time that week and wiped his cheeks. “Uh huh, let's go!” He placed his small hand in the man's own larger one, not noticing the triumphant look his “uncle” shot him.
Yeah, where they were going was close to Heaven but… Hell always was.
~*~*~ ~*~*~
Ichigo wiped his mouth and emerged from the small bathroom. Good, Bert was gone. He walked shakily back to his bed before collapsing onto it. The tears that had remained steadily locked during that tryst fell freely now. He let them course down his cheeks and wrapped his arms around his shaking body. No matter how many times he did this, he never got used to it.
He waited until the tears had slowed and shakes stopped before coming out of his room. The hallway leading to the downstairs was narrow and all angles. It took concentration just to get down the steps without injury. His gaze fell upon the closed door of his “neighbor”, Lily. His heart lightened as he made his way toward the door and prepared to knock. The steady creaking of bed springs sounded from behind the door and someone let out a low moan.
Ichigo rubbed his hands along his arms nervously and backed up. Apparently the day had officially started. He shuddered and turned around sharply, knocking into a picture and sending it crashing onto the floor. The glass frame shattered and spewed small fragments along the ground. His eyes widened. `Oh shit.'
Light footsteps padded up the stairs and Ichigo lowered his head. The madam rounded the corner a moment later. She shook her dyed blonde curls and scowled, the lines around her mouth giving her the look of a fish. “That's coming out of your paycheck, boy.” Arching her thin brow, she tapped a long purple nail against her cheek and stared hard at him. Not seeing anything of interest, she turned with a huff, her purple skirt billowing around her thick legs. “Be sure to get downstairs in this lifetime. There's a new client who would like to meet you. I'm not going to tolerate you being tardy again. Understand?”
Ichigo nodded humbly, ignoring the remark about a paycheck. If there was a paycheck, he had never seen it. This just meant he'd have to service more men in order to meet the quota this month. He waited until she had descended down the stairs before glowering at her back.
“She sure is bitchy today, huh?”
Ichigo turned around quickly and met the steady, violet gaze of his closest friend. “Lily! I thought you were-”
Lily shook his head, sending his soft, golden locks cascading in all directions. “I was just finishing up when I heard a racket out in the hall. Why am I not surprised that it was because of you?” He smiled kindly and stepped out from his doorway. “Did you want to talk to me, Ichigo?”
Ichigo smiled sadly and shook his head. He needed to but there was never enough time… He saw the uncharacteristically worried look flash across Lily's face and it grated on him. He really shouldn't bring others down with him but this was Lily. If anyone could help him with his problems, it was this young man.
“I was going to but I have to go meet a new john. Shit out of luck, I guess.” He laughed bitterly and waved at his friend. “Maybe on a break. Wish me luck.” He turned and headed for the stairs, missing the sad look the small blonde shot him.
“Luck.”
Three Days Ago- Florence, Italy
Byakuya steadied his finger on the trigger of his Soviet SVD Dragunov rifle, his face impassive. Kill. The one-word command ran through his mind unhindered by any thoughts of guilt or remorse. It was his purpose… to murder. No tiny, subconscious voices could reach him anymore.
A slight breeze blew back his long black hair, revealing a small scar upon his cheek. It added to the over-all masculinity of his face. Long lashes cascaded elegantly over cold, gray eyes, an impassive glaze etched in them. His full lips curved gently downward, his trademark scowl in place.
He focused his left eye through the viewer of the scope. The target would be here in exactly five, four, three, two, one… Clearing his mind, he curled his finger tighter around the trigger and watched. He allowed his muscles to loosen slowly, preparing for the inevitable kill.
The small café across the street had been busy all morning but at this one instant, the restaurant cleared as if to make way for the arrival of royalty. The target was anything but royalty. An older man entered the elegant building. His coattails flapped in the breeze and revealed a small handgun tucked haphazardly into the pants waist. Looking straight-ahead, he let the glass door slam behind him. That made things more difficult.
Technically, he could get a clean shot at the man but the glass breaking would alert civilians. Not something he was ready to deal with. People skills were not on his resume. He allowed a small smile to cross his lips at this thought. He hadn't had a resume in a long time. Then again, he hadn't had a real job in just as long.
He pulled the gun case in front of him and packed the rifle carefully into it. Running a finger over the surface of it fondly, he admired the smooth and polished base. He closed the case with an echoing finality. This sort of weapon wouldn't do for close range assassination. Tossing it to the side, he pulled a small pistol out from the waistband of his tailored pants. Much better. He unfolded himself from the crouching position and got to his feet, dusting his pants off. The time had come.
He exited the rooftop via the fire escape and jumped down onto the pavement. The shock of the landing vibrated through him and gnashed his teeth together. Better to keep moving. The pistol felt heavy in his hand; the weight of death on his palm. Pulling the collar of his jacket up over his chin, he tried his best to obscure his face from any possible witnesses. It limited the number of casualties.
His eyes tracked the movement of the distinguished man moving as a constant silhouette against the window. Too easy. A bell tinkered as he entered the tiny café and he lowered his head farther into his jacket. The plump woman smiled at him from behind the counter and grabbed a menu.
“Come siete oggi, signore? Quanto mangeranno qui? *”
His cold gray eyes met her warm green ones and he offered her a fake smile. “Ah, soltanto uno. Grazie. *” It was a required skill in the assassination business to be fluent in more than one language. The more you blended in, the better.
“Sì. Segualo prego, signore. *”
Byakuya followed her, his eyes watching her slim hips dispassionately as she walked in front of him. She turned abruptly and winked as she realized what he had been gazing so intently at. If she thought him to be a pervert, then all the better. It would add to his credibility as an “innocent bystander” later on. Placing the solitary menu down on the table, she smiled at him.
“La vostra tabella. Sarò indietro in un momento per prendere il vostro ordine. *” With that said, she turned and made her way back to the hostess' box.
He frowned slightly and waited until she left before perusing the café for his target. Ah ha. Over there by the window. The man ate like a pig. Disgraceful. Someone like him deserved to die.
Exiting the booth, he subtly removed the pistol from his waistband. He strode over to the window seat casually and sidled next to the man. Startled, the man jumped slightly and glared back at him.
“Fucking took you long enough, stupid waiter. You'd better be able to speak English. You can, right?”
Byakuya gazed emotionlessly at him, his thoughts already turning to plans of murder. “I speak English perfectly well, thank you. Now if you wouldn't mind… follow me.” The tone in his voice left no room for argument; the erotic purr of a dangerous jungle cat just before a kill.
The older man failed to notice the warning. “You've got to be fucking kidding me,” he said, a look of disbelief on his face. “Why the hell would I follow you? You some sort of gay groupie? I'm sorry but I'm not that way and I'm happily married.” His face broke out into a smug grin at this thought but quickly faded as he noticed Byakuya's expression.
Byakuya leaned forward, pressing the muzzle of the gun subtly against the man's side. “I do not know what it is you do nor could I possibly care. And I certainly have no interest in you sexually. I'm pretty sure you understand the repercussions of a gun pressed into your side. Follow me or die here. Choose quickly.”
The man gaped at him in disbelief. “You're fucking serious?” he asked, his gaze moving over the assassin's face. He shifted farther away from the gun at the lack of facial expression. “Oh god. You are. Fine, buddy. Whatever you want. I'll follow, just don't hurt me!”
He slid from the seat, the khaki of his expensive trousers moving smoothly with him. The table was pushed slightly away from him as he made his way in front of Byakuya. The assassin eyed him wearily as they moved steadily toward the exit. Ignoring the hostess' bid of farewell, he pushed the man slightly, urging him to walk casually out onto the sidewalk.
They made their way to a back alley where Byakuya pushed the man down onto his knees. Bringing the pistol to the man's forehead, he paused. “Any last words before I dispatch you?”
Tears slipped out of the corners of the man's dull brown eyes as he gaped in disbelief. “P-please, don't do this! I'll give you any sort of money you want- please! We can both walk away from this, happy men. I have a family that needs me. My wife is with chi-”
Byakuya pulled the trigger. “Good bye.”
Present Day- Saratoga, New York
Ichigo sobbed silently as the man pounded fiercely into his backside. This one was a family man from central New York. He seemed harmless enough with his thick mustache, potbelly, and thinning hair but… It seemed that those types were always the most perverted. This one insisted on Ichigo calling him “Daddy”. The mere thought brought a wave of nausea to the pit of his stomach.
The man slapped him hard on the ass, bringing him back to the present. He swallowed a wave of humiliation and gave a fake moan. The family man grunted in pleasure behind him.
“Show me what an good son you are and pee on the bed for Daddy.” Ichigo stiffened and stifled a small scream as the man rammed harder into him. He had to do it or the punishment afterwards would be far worse. The man suddenly grabbed a tuft of his hair in each hand and rammed his face into the mattress.
“I said pee on the bed! Now!”
Ichigo let out an involuntary cry of pain and struggled to loosen his bladder muscles. Think of water. Freely flowing water… relax… Think of nothing but that water. Urine trickled down onto the white sheets and the man grunted happily behind him. This was so humiliating and disgusting.
A fresh wave of tears flowed from his cheeks as the older man tensed behind, spilling his seed into the condom. Thank god for that one small favor. After the incident where one of the madam's best workers developed HIV and had to be “put down”, every john was required to wear a condom. They had lost a few customers due to that but the madam made up for it by introducing kinky play into the works for half price.
The man turned Ichigo over onto his back and pulled off the condom, dropping it onto the floor. He positioned his penis over the red head's mouth and sneered down at him. “Open your mouth and drink my piss like a good little boy.”
That was too much. Ichgio choked back his vomit and pushed the man off of him, running for the bathroom, a hand over his mouth. He slammed and locked the door behind him, rushing for the toilet bowl. His degradation and pain disappeared down the swirling toilet water and he slumped onto the floor wearily. He would pay for this one, if the angry protests in the bedroom were anything to go by. Right now, he didn't care. He just wanted to curl up and die.
He rocked himself back and forth, hugging his knees to his chest. A haunting melody his grandmother used to play on her piano came to him and he started singing. He knew the words almost as well as she had known the notes.
Crucify my love
If my love is blind
Crucify my love
If it sets me free
Never know. Never trust
"That love should see a color"
Crucify my love
If it should be the way
He closed his eyes and tried to picture her face in his mind. The memories had been fading through out the long years and he gave a low moan when he realized he had all but forgot what she looked like. He hung his head. The next part… what was the next part of the song?! Desperately, he clasped at his solitary reminder of her.
Swing the heartache
Feel it inside out
When the wind cries
I'll say goodbye
Tried to learn; Tried to find…
To reach out for eternity.
Where's the answer?
Is this forever?
Ichigo tensed as someone pounded angrily on the bathroom door. He would pay dearly for this one…
Like a river flowing to the sea
You'll be miles away, and I will know
I know I can deal with the pain
No reason to cry…
He would pay oh so dearly.
~*~*~ ~*~*~
Lily hummed softly as he went about the task of cleaning up after the last john. That one had been overly romantic; bring him a rose and chocolates to “seduce” him. `Those were the worst kind,' he thought as he folded the bed sheet over the mattress. `The kind that thought they could win your love.'
He allowed himself a small frown as he wondered where his beloved friend, Ichigo was. It was several hours after the designated “happy hour” and they had planned to meet. Usually the red head was punctual, looking forward to these little talks almost as much as Lily. Was this cause for concern?
He brightened as a soft knock sounded on the door. Ah, there he was. Smiling, Lily opened the door only to have it fade as he saw the occupant on the other side. Ichigo stood, huddled over, clutching at a torn and naked body. Bruises formed dangerously close to his lifeless brown eyes and thin trail of blood trickled from the corners of his mouth.
Lily cried out softly, rushing forward to grasp the trembling teen in his arms. He could already guess what had happened. The madam didn't take to kindly to her slaves not following her orders. He grabbed the red head by his arm and closed the door. Falling down onto his knees, he pulled Ichigo close and hugged him.
As if coming out of daze, Ichigo looked up at him. Tears coursed down a weary face and he fell into Lily's lap sobbing. “I want to go home I want to go home I want to go home-” A hopeless mantra. A mantra repeated like a prayer any time one of them had confronted a bad situation.
Lily stroked his hair, rocking back and forth. “I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please, I'm sorry.” They both cried as the day faded into dusk, clutching at the only hope they had. Each other.
Saratoga, New York- 2 hours earlier
Byakuya stared in disbelief as his supposed “friend” pleaded with him. “Come on, man. You haven't gotten laid in like what- a decade? A century? I know this great place that as fucking delicious whores, all clean, and they give it up for a reasonable price.” The man was insufferable.
To start with, Byakuya had barely gotten back from his assignment before his recent best (and only) friend called him up, begging dinner at a “fancy fucking-ass restaurant” off of him. Ah, Night Havern. The richest man in possibly the whole country, mooching, as usual. That guy was redundancy in human form.
To top it all off, he wanted the attentions of a prostitute. It wasn't has if the man needed it. Standing at 6'5 with a thin, athletic build, the guy wasn't exactly desperate for that sort of attention. Chocolate-colored hair pulled back into a small ponytail, his handsome face and green eyes were practically glowing. If women didn't swarm over him for his money, it was almost always definitely for his looks. The man had a more than a few quirky habits but Byakuya wasn't one to pass judgment.
Finishing up his steak, the assassin arched his brow at his exuberant friend. “I didn't realize they still had whore houses in this age.” He put down his fork carefully and picked up his napkin, wiping his mouth.
“Course they do! And that's what makes this fucking hell hole beautiful.” Night waggled his eyebrows and grinned. “I know your dying for a taste of that forbidden fruit, my friend.”
Byakuya nearly snorted into his napkin. Right, like he needed something else forbidden. A normally anti-social assassin, seeking the forbidden fruit. How cliché. He shook his head slowly and gave Night a mock scowl.
“Why do always insist I go with you to commit your illegal acts?”
Night grinned triumphantly. “Does that mean you'll come with?” he asked, practically twitching in his seat.
Byakuya sighed and looked at his watch. He didn't have any other “assignments” for the remainder of the day but he hated staying out too late just incase he got an early morning one.
“How long does it take to get there?” he asked, sighing again.
Night practically jumped out of his seat. “About an hour or so. Let's hop to it.”
Saratoga, New York-Present Day
Someone knocked on Lily's door causing the two teens to jump. The blonde looked quickly down at the sleeping red head in his lap and up at the clock. Eight pm. Who in the world could that be? Usually their day ended at around 7pm, the doors closing for any possible johns. Hmm…
He slid carefully from under Ichigo and walked to the door, opening it. It was the madam. He tensed slightly at her pleased smirk but gave a pleasant smile in return. He was first and foremost a performer. “How may I be of service to you, madam?”
The plump woman chuckled and pushed him out of the way. “YOU can't be of any service to me but your precious friend can. Wake him up. Tell him it's a chance to redeem himself.”
“There's no need. I'm awake,” Ichigo said, pushing himself tiredly off the floor. “What do you want?”
The madam ignored his insolence and instead chose to smirk maliciously at him. “Clean up. You'll be entertaining a very important person. I'll give you 20 minutes before I have the guards come up and fetch you. Can you manage?”
Lily stopped his friend before he could say anything rash. “Yes, I'm most certain he can, madam. He'll be washed and downstairs within the hour. Thank you.” He closed the door in her startled face. Ichigo stared in surprise at him.
“What? I don't like her either.”
~*~*~ ~*~*~
Byakuya tapped his foot with impatience, waiting for Night's personal whore to grace them with his presence. He had changed his mind halfway to the whorehouse, instead opting to sit idly by and let his friend get his kicks out of the women. Only, women today weren't his friend's choice. Night would switch back and forth between genders when he got bored with the other one. The ultimate player.
The woman in charge had asked Night to choose but he wanted to be surprised. “A little variety is nice, “ he had said. Variety, right. Nice.
The stairs squeaked softly, bringing him out of his thoughts and back into the present. They both turned simultaneously to stare at the teen coming down the stairs and Byakuya gasped. He was… he was…
The young man was delicate looking, with a shock of red hair and beautiful brown eyes. He was of medium height but gave off the aura of someone far more fragile. His thin figure clothed in a sheer silk shirt and soft brown cotton pants. Two materials at odds with each other.
As the teen drew closer, Byakuya could make out the dampness of his hair. The smell of gingery shampoo enveloped his nose, making him hard. Just then, the light hit the red head's face. Bruises. Bruises and tiny cuts. They were visible through the thin fabric of his shirt, too.
The view that accosted them made a rush of unfamiliar emotions surge through the assassin's body- the likes of which he'd never felt before. Possessiveness, jealously, fierce lust, anger, rage, an intense desire to claim what was his.
Wait, his? Byakuya caught the glance of his friend and scowled. “Choose another one,” he growled softly. Night blinked once and shrugged. Motioning for the madam, he cast a curious glance at Byakuya.
The man was practically seething with dark rage and something else. The emotions shot through the air like small waves of electricity. His normally empty gray eyes were filled with jealousy and possession. Was all that for the red head. This would be amusing to watch.
~*~*~ ~*~*~
Ichigo made his way down the stairs, his heart heavy. This wouldn't ever end, would it? He would be stuck here until he died. The weight of sorrow nearly made him turn back up the stairs and just run. He had tried running away once… that hadn't (obviously) turned out in his favor.
He could do this. Don't think, just do it. Don't think, just do it. That was his personal motto in life. He descended the stairs, one foot in front of the other, and determination built with each step. He could do this; if not for himself then for Lily. He grasped the railing tightly in his hand, using it for support. He had gotten a serious fucking beating earlier.
Reaching the last couple of steps he looked up into warm green eyes. This man was reasonably attractive, humor etched solidly into his features. Ichigo relaxed slightly until he looked over at the man's friend. The pit of stomach seemed to drop and his mouth went dry.
The man glaring at him poured out waves of dark, erotic sexuality. His long black hair framed a feral face with eyes that practically oozed intensity. The man was seated casually on the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Despite the harmlessness of that pose, he seemed ready to… pounce. The black silk of the man's shirt clung to a chest and abs that looked like it could do a whole load of laundry.
The black haired man leaned forward and frowned, his full lips pulling downward ever so slightly. Ichigo backed up. That man was far too dangerous. The other man seemed to watch them both with an air of amusement.
His scowl deepened as his gaze traveled farther down Ichigo's body. What was the guy's problem? If he didn't like what he saw, he could just send him back. Didn't he know that? It would be a relief…
Just as he was about to open his mouth and tell him this, the madam came over. “Is something the matter, gentlemen? Is he not satisfactory? If so, I can-”
She was cut off by a low growl and a second later, she was pinned to the wall. The angry man shoved her harder into it, ignoring his friend's protests. “What kind of business are you running here, lady? Why is he bruised? Speak quickly or die.”
The madam gaped at him in disbelief. “You managed to find this place and yet you don't know what it's for? We sell sex, you fool. And what I do with my slave is none of your- mmph!”
The man slapped her hard across the face. “You don't mind if I take him out of here, do you?”
The man's friend grabbed his arm. “Hey man, if you're gunna take your love bunny over there, I'd suggest you hurry before her hired goons arrive. And I swear to you, I only thought it was a whore house… not a fucking trafficking ring.” The friend turned toward the woman, his eyes twinkling. “And you, miss. If you know what's good for you, I'd suggest that you let my friend here take what he wants and go. You should be lucky he's a heartless bastard and doesn't want to `save' the rest.”
The madam nodded meekly and the man let her fall to the ground. Ichigo watched all of this, disbelief on his face. What the… What the hell was going on?
Shaking, he wrapped his arms around his waist. The man stalked toward and he drew back, more nervous than he'd ever been. What did this guy want with him? Was the madam selling him? He gave a small sob and the man stopped, his expression suddenly unsure.
“I'm saving you, little one. You're free now.” The man's voice was gruff, but not unpleasantly so and Ichigo found himself wishing he could hear it again.
“I-I can't,” he said, shakily. “M-my friend, Lily… I can't leave h-him.” He looked down at his feet. He didn't believe for a moment that he was finally free… He wouldn't trust anyone ever again.
The man's friend spoke up from behind him. “This Lily, what room is she in? I'll go and get her.” Ichigo didn't bother correcting his mistake. Maybe if he only liked girls he would leave Lily alone once they escaped. Yeah, as soon as he got out of these doors, he would run from the two men. Then they'd really be free.
He cleared his throat nervously. “Uh, up the stairs, first door on the right. Tell Lily that Ichigo said it was okay.”
The good-humored man saluted once and made his way up the stairs, two at a time. As they waited, the dark-haired man moved forward. “My name is Byakuya. What's yours?” His tone had softened considerably, as if talking to a wild animal. He didn't care. He wouldn't ever trust this man or anyone else besides Lily.
“My name is… Bob. Bob Roberts.” He said, smirking on the inside. If… no, when they escaped, he didn't want the other man to be able to track him. He cursed belatedly as he realized he had given Lily's real first name. Well, if he could convince Lily to act the part of a woman then they would be okay.
The dark-haired man didn't look amused. He stepped closer and stared deep into his eyes, as if searching for something.
“You're lying. Tell me-”
“My man!” His friend interrupted Byakuya. Ichigo looked up and gasped. Lily was tucked under his arm, struggling for all he was worth while the man casually smoked a cigarette. He winked at Ichigo.
“Here's your friend, little guy. She won't believe that I'm only here to do good. Reason with her.” He placed Lily gently down onto his feet and he scrambled over to Ichigo, grabbing onto his arm. “Ichi-mmph!” He quickly placed a hand over the blonde's mouth, silencing him. Lily met his gaze and he shook his head slightly.
Speaking out loud, he turned toward Byakuya. “I was just telling my rescuer here that my name was Bob Roberts. He doesn't believe me. Well, Lily here will set you straight. She's very reliable.” He emphasized the word “she” slightly to tip the young man off.
The blonde blinked once before nodding, a sweet smile on his face. “Oh yes, “ he said, his voice in falsetto. “Absolutely. Bob and I are best friends. Known him since I was a little girl.”
Byakuya's face didn't change expressions as he grabbed Ichigo by the hand and pulled him the rest of the way toward him. He scooped him up bridal style and tucked his head neatly under his chin. The red head barely concealed the embarrassing urge to moan in pleasure at the wonderful scent of the man. He smelled rich and earthy; almost like what Ichigo pictured the rainforest to smell like.
“Alright, Bob. Night, grab that other one and let's get going.”
“That other one” was picked up in the same way, much to his dismay and Night's great amusement. The man's smile was disengaging but only seemed to add to the small blonde's uncharacteristic indignation and fury. Lily slapped him on the cheek and huffed when Night just laughed. “Let's get going, my little fiery one.”
Ichigo remained silent as they headed out into the night air, plotting in his head. He'd make his furtive escape just before they reached the car but… He looked about at the dangerous scowl plastered across Byakuya's face.
Would it work?
A.N: Ha ha. A cliffhanger. Maybe I'm being presumptuous to think that readers will want to read more but somehow I find myself not caring. I'm very content in how this story is turning out. So, those of you haven't noticed, this an AU fan fiction. It means it's an alternate universe, with original characters inevitably included. I'm proud of my characters. *laughs* So, read and review. Tell me what you think of the story… about Lily and Night Havern. About Byakuya and Ichigo. I'll update often since I'm passionate about this story. Hurray!
A.N: Read, review… flames are welcome.
Chapter One: Once Upon a Time Present Day- Saratoga, New York
“There's always a hero.”
Ichigo scoffed as he gazed out from the cracks of his boarded window. The wooden platelets, though thick, couldn't disguise the gloom of the new morning. Another fucking rainy day. Would wonders never cease? He picked at the grain of the wood for a moment before turning and accosting his room with a glare. A water-stained mattress and scratchy brown blanket glared back.
He stomped barefoot across the cold wooden floor and planted a swift kick into the side of his bed, muttering in disgust when his foot confronted a used condom. Nasty fucks. The previous john had obviously wanted to leave behind a keepsake. He kicked it off and grimaced when it made a sucking sound. Really. Today couldn't get any worse.
Crossing his thin arms over his chest, he flopped down onto the makeshift bed and glared at the low ceiling. It had been a long time since he dreamed of his “other” life. That particular Pandora's box brought too many painful memories. He cupped a thin hand against his cheek, the memory of pale fingers on his face still lingering. Frowning, he turned onto his side and closed his eyes.
“Grandma… Where ever you are, are you thinking of me?” He whispered softly. No, of course she couldn't be. She was dead. It had been fourteen years since he could remember her giving him that sweet smile of hers. And those stories. He could always count on her to tell him a fairytale that would both ease the pain of the current situation and teach a moral, all in the same moment. `What story would she tell me now,' he wondered, `if she were still alive?' He smiled bitterly, opening his eyes. `Maybe one about a sweet prince coming to rescue his fair princess.'
Ichigo stared blankly at the peeling, ocher wallpaper. Shit had better coloring than these walls. He reached his arm out in front of him, grasping at the edges of the curling paper and tugged. The thin paper released its fragile hold on the wall and ripped, fluttering to the floor. The tan of the dry wall wasn't much better. `My memories are like this wallpaper; colorful and fragile, hiding the true ugliness behind each.'
A sharp rap sounded on his door before it flew open. “Get the fuck off your ass and get to work. The johns aren't going to please themselves.” A heavy, booted foot landed solidly against his side. He folded in half, clutching at the tender area, and turned his head. His brown eyes locked onto the dark denim of the current house guard's pants. What was his name again? Bert…? He gaze traveled up the pants and onto the yellowish-brown plaid of the man's shirt tucked in to most likely hide that beer belly. Ocher WAS such an ugly color. His eyes drifted over the thin lips and bulbous nose before locking onto his pale, beady eyes. Yeah, Bert. His baldhead gleamed in the light emanating from the hallway, emphasizing the sweat beading on his forehead.
Ichigo swallowed the bile that threatened to well up from his throat. Sweating wasn't a good sign. It indicated one of two things when it came to Bert. A.) The parlor was teeming with impatient lecherous men, eager for a quick fuck or B.) Bert wanted some lecherous action himself. The lack of noise from downstairs answered the most dominating suspicion. An involuntary shudder coursed through his thin body as the guard reached for his belt buckle.
Bert chuckled darkly as he licked his thin lips and indicated with a nod of his head what he wanted Ichigo to do. He crawled off the mattress wearily and reached shaking hands out to unbuckle the man's belt. Not this. Never this but… always this. Why? Why?! Why… He closed his eye as his lips connected with the pulsing length of the guard's erection. He wouldn't throw up… he wouldn't throw up. Bert shoved it in to the hilt, gagging him.
`Don't think, just do it. Don't think, just do it…' The thought ran rampant in his head, drowning out the moans of pleasure. The corners of his mouth split, trickling a thin trail of blood down the sides of his chin. Always, always…
~*~*~ ~*~*~
The little boy stared up at the pro-offered hand, the tears on his cheeks ignored for the moment. The funeral for both of his grandparents had commenced and ended, leaving him alone. They were both gone, gone to the place his mother was and his father would never be. At least, that's what his old Aunt Yuki had said. He would never see them again. He would go and live somewhere far away, with this nice man who said he was a distant uncle.
He stared up at the craggy face of his “uncle” and stifled a small sob. He would rather be with Grandma and Gramps in that “Heaven” place. Maybe… “Is my new home near Heaven?” He asked, suddenly hopeful.
The man grinned and tipped his hat back, gazing at the sky. “Yeah, I would imagine it to be so,” he boomed out. He looked back down at the boy and winked. “I know! Maybe you can visit your grandparents when we get there…” He ruffled the boy's red hair before reaching out his hand again. “So what do you say you and I get going so we can meet up with them, huh?”
The little boy smiled for the first time that week and wiped his cheeks. “Uh huh, let's go!” He placed his small hand in the man's own larger one, not noticing the triumphant look his “uncle” shot him.
Yeah, where they were going was close to Heaven but… Hell always was.
~*~*~ ~*~*~
Ichigo wiped his mouth and emerged from the small bathroom. Good, Bert was gone. He walked shakily back to his bed before collapsing onto it. The tears that had remained steadily locked during that tryst fell freely now. He let them course down his cheeks and wrapped his arms around his shaking body. No matter how many times he did this, he never got used to it.
He waited until the tears had slowed and shakes stopped before coming out of his room. The hallway leading to the downstairs was narrow and all angles. It took concentration just to get down the steps without injury. His gaze fell upon the closed door of his “neighbor”, Lily. His heart lightened as he made his way toward the door and prepared to knock. The steady creaking of bed springs sounded from behind the door and someone let out a low moan.
Ichigo rubbed his hands along his arms nervously and backed up. Apparently the day had officially started. He shuddered and turned around sharply, knocking into a picture and sending it crashing onto the floor. The glass frame shattered and spewed small fragments along the ground. His eyes widened. `Oh shit.'
Light footsteps padded up the stairs and Ichigo lowered his head. The madam rounded the corner a moment later. She shook her dyed blonde curls and scowled, the lines around her mouth giving her the look of a fish. “That's coming out of your paycheck, boy.” Arching her thin brow, she tapped a long purple nail against her cheek and stared hard at him. Not seeing anything of interest, she turned with a huff, her purple skirt billowing around her thick legs. “Be sure to get downstairs in this lifetime. There's a new client who would like to meet you. I'm not going to tolerate you being tardy again. Understand?”
Ichigo nodded humbly, ignoring the remark about a paycheck. If there was a paycheck, he had never seen it. This just meant he'd have to service more men in order to meet the quota this month. He waited until she had descended down the stairs before glowering at her back.
“She sure is bitchy today, huh?”
Ichigo turned around quickly and met the steady, violet gaze of his closest friend. “Lily! I thought you were-”
Lily shook his head, sending his soft, golden locks cascading in all directions. “I was just finishing up when I heard a racket out in the hall. Why am I not surprised that it was because of you?” He smiled kindly and stepped out from his doorway. “Did you want to talk to me, Ichigo?”
Ichigo smiled sadly and shook his head. He needed to but there was never enough time… He saw the uncharacteristically worried look flash across Lily's face and it grated on him. He really shouldn't bring others down with him but this was Lily. If anyone could help him with his problems, it was this young man.
“I was going to but I have to go meet a new john. Shit out of luck, I guess.” He laughed bitterly and waved at his friend. “Maybe on a break. Wish me luck.” He turned and headed for the stairs, missing the sad look the small blonde shot him.
“Luck.”
Three Days Ago- Florence, Italy
Byakuya steadied his finger on the trigger of his Soviet SVD Dragunov rifle, his face impassive. Kill. The one-word command ran through his mind unhindered by any thoughts of guilt or remorse. It was his purpose… to murder. No tiny, subconscious voices could reach him anymore.
A slight breeze blew back his long black hair, revealing a small scar upon his cheek. It added to the over-all masculinity of his face. Long lashes cascaded elegantly over cold, gray eyes, an impassive glaze etched in them. His full lips curved gently downward, his trademark scowl in place.
He focused his left eye through the viewer of the scope. The target would be here in exactly five, four, three, two, one… Clearing his mind, he curled his finger tighter around the trigger and watched. He allowed his muscles to loosen slowly, preparing for the inevitable kill.
The small café across the street had been busy all morning but at this one instant, the restaurant cleared as if to make way for the arrival of royalty. The target was anything but royalty. An older man entered the elegant building. His coattails flapped in the breeze and revealed a small handgun tucked haphazardly into the pants waist. Looking straight-ahead, he let the glass door slam behind him. That made things more difficult.
Technically, he could get a clean shot at the man but the glass breaking would alert civilians. Not something he was ready to deal with. People skills were not on his resume. He allowed a small smile to cross his lips at this thought. He hadn't had a resume in a long time. Then again, he hadn't had a real job in just as long.
He pulled the gun case in front of him and packed the rifle carefully into it. Running a finger over the surface of it fondly, he admired the smooth and polished base. He closed the case with an echoing finality. This sort of weapon wouldn't do for close range assassination. Tossing it to the side, he pulled a small pistol out from the waistband of his tailored pants. Much better. He unfolded himself from the crouching position and got to his feet, dusting his pants off. The time had come.
He exited the rooftop via the fire escape and jumped down onto the pavement. The shock of the landing vibrated through him and gnashed his teeth together. Better to keep moving. The pistol felt heavy in his hand; the weight of death on his palm. Pulling the collar of his jacket up over his chin, he tried his best to obscure his face from any possible witnesses. It limited the number of casualties.
His eyes tracked the movement of the distinguished man moving as a constant silhouette against the window. Too easy. A bell tinkered as he entered the tiny café and he lowered his head farther into his jacket. The plump woman smiled at him from behind the counter and grabbed a menu.
“Come siete oggi, signore? Quanto mangeranno qui? *”
His cold gray eyes met her warm green ones and he offered her a fake smile. “Ah, soltanto uno. Grazie. *” It was a required skill in the assassination business to be fluent in more than one language. The more you blended in, the better.
“Sì. Segualo prego, signore. *”
Byakuya followed her, his eyes watching her slim hips dispassionately as she walked in front of him. She turned abruptly and winked as she realized what he had been gazing so intently at. If she thought him to be a pervert, then all the better. It would add to his credibility as an “innocent bystander” later on. Placing the solitary menu down on the table, she smiled at him.
“La vostra tabella. Sarò indietro in un momento per prendere il vostro ordine. *” With that said, she turned and made her way back to the hostess' box.
He frowned slightly and waited until she left before perusing the café for his target. Ah ha. Over there by the window. The man ate like a pig. Disgraceful. Someone like him deserved to die.
Exiting the booth, he subtly removed the pistol from his waistband. He strode over to the window seat casually and sidled next to the man. Startled, the man jumped slightly and glared back at him.
“Fucking took you long enough, stupid waiter. You'd better be able to speak English. You can, right?”
Byakuya gazed emotionlessly at him, his thoughts already turning to plans of murder. “I speak English perfectly well, thank you. Now if you wouldn't mind… follow me.” The tone in his voice left no room for argument; the erotic purr of a dangerous jungle cat just before a kill.
The older man failed to notice the warning. “You've got to be fucking kidding me,” he said, a look of disbelief on his face. “Why the hell would I follow you? You some sort of gay groupie? I'm sorry but I'm not that way and I'm happily married.” His face broke out into a smug grin at this thought but quickly faded as he noticed Byakuya's expression.
Byakuya leaned forward, pressing the muzzle of the gun subtly against the man's side. “I do not know what it is you do nor could I possibly care. And I certainly have no interest in you sexually. I'm pretty sure you understand the repercussions of a gun pressed into your side. Follow me or die here. Choose quickly.”
The man gaped at him in disbelief. “You're fucking serious?” he asked, his gaze moving over the assassin's face. He shifted farther away from the gun at the lack of facial expression. “Oh god. You are. Fine, buddy. Whatever you want. I'll follow, just don't hurt me!”
He slid from the seat, the khaki of his expensive trousers moving smoothly with him. The table was pushed slightly away from him as he made his way in front of Byakuya. The assassin eyed him wearily as they moved steadily toward the exit. Ignoring the hostess' bid of farewell, he pushed the man slightly, urging him to walk casually out onto the sidewalk.
They made their way to a back alley where Byakuya pushed the man down onto his knees. Bringing the pistol to the man's forehead, he paused. “Any last words before I dispatch you?”
Tears slipped out of the corners of the man's dull brown eyes as he gaped in disbelief. “P-please, don't do this! I'll give you any sort of money you want- please! We can both walk away from this, happy men. I have a family that needs me. My wife is with chi-”
Byakuya pulled the trigger. “Good bye.”
Present Day- Saratoga, New York
Ichigo sobbed silently as the man pounded fiercely into his backside. This one was a family man from central New York. He seemed harmless enough with his thick mustache, potbelly, and thinning hair but… It seemed that those types were always the most perverted. This one insisted on Ichigo calling him “Daddy”. The mere thought brought a wave of nausea to the pit of his stomach.
The man slapped him hard on the ass, bringing him back to the present. He swallowed a wave of humiliation and gave a fake moan. The family man grunted in pleasure behind him.
“Show me what an good son you are and pee on the bed for Daddy.” Ichigo stiffened and stifled a small scream as the man rammed harder into him. He had to do it or the punishment afterwards would be far worse. The man suddenly grabbed a tuft of his hair in each hand and rammed his face into the mattress.
“I said pee on the bed! Now!”
Ichigo let out an involuntary cry of pain and struggled to loosen his bladder muscles. Think of water. Freely flowing water… relax… Think of nothing but that water. Urine trickled down onto the white sheets and the man grunted happily behind him. This was so humiliating and disgusting.
A fresh wave of tears flowed from his cheeks as the older man tensed behind, spilling his seed into the condom. Thank god for that one small favor. After the incident where one of the madam's best workers developed HIV and had to be “put down”, every john was required to wear a condom. They had lost a few customers due to that but the madam made up for it by introducing kinky play into the works for half price.
The man turned Ichigo over onto his back and pulled off the condom, dropping it onto the floor. He positioned his penis over the red head's mouth and sneered down at him. “Open your mouth and drink my piss like a good little boy.”
That was too much. Ichgio choked back his vomit and pushed the man off of him, running for the bathroom, a hand over his mouth. He slammed and locked the door behind him, rushing for the toilet bowl. His degradation and pain disappeared down the swirling toilet water and he slumped onto the floor wearily. He would pay for this one, if the angry protests in the bedroom were anything to go by. Right now, he didn't care. He just wanted to curl up and die.
He rocked himself back and forth, hugging his knees to his chest. A haunting melody his grandmother used to play on her piano came to him and he started singing. He knew the words almost as well as she had known the notes.
Crucify my love
If my love is blind
Crucify my love
If it sets me free
Never know. Never trust
"That love should see a color"
Crucify my love
If it should be the way
He closed his eyes and tried to picture her face in his mind. The memories had been fading through out the long years and he gave a low moan when he realized he had all but forgot what she looked like. He hung his head. The next part… what was the next part of the song?! Desperately, he clasped at his solitary reminder of her.
Swing the heartache
Feel it inside out
When the wind cries
I'll say goodbye
Tried to learn; Tried to find…
To reach out for eternity.
Where's the answer?
Is this forever?
Ichigo tensed as someone pounded angrily on the bathroom door. He would pay dearly for this one…
Like a river flowing to the sea
You'll be miles away, and I will know
I know I can deal with the pain
No reason to cry…
He would pay oh so dearly.
~*~*~ ~*~*~
Lily hummed softly as he went about the task of cleaning up after the last john. That one had been overly romantic; bring him a rose and chocolates to “seduce” him. `Those were the worst kind,' he thought as he folded the bed sheet over the mattress. `The kind that thought they could win your love.'
He allowed himself a small frown as he wondered where his beloved friend, Ichigo was. It was several hours after the designated “happy hour” and they had planned to meet. Usually the red head was punctual, looking forward to these little talks almost as much as Lily. Was this cause for concern?
He brightened as a soft knock sounded on the door. Ah, there he was. Smiling, Lily opened the door only to have it fade as he saw the occupant on the other side. Ichigo stood, huddled over, clutching at a torn and naked body. Bruises formed dangerously close to his lifeless brown eyes and thin trail of blood trickled from the corners of his mouth.
Lily cried out softly, rushing forward to grasp the trembling teen in his arms. He could already guess what had happened. The madam didn't take to kindly to her slaves not following her orders. He grabbed the red head by his arm and closed the door. Falling down onto his knees, he pulled Ichigo close and hugged him.
As if coming out of daze, Ichigo looked up at him. Tears coursed down a weary face and he fell into Lily's lap sobbing. “I want to go home I want to go home I want to go home-” A hopeless mantra. A mantra repeated like a prayer any time one of them had confronted a bad situation.
Lily stroked his hair, rocking back and forth. “I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please, I'm sorry.” They both cried as the day faded into dusk, clutching at the only hope they had. Each other.
Saratoga, New York- 2 hours earlier
Byakuya stared in disbelief as his supposed “friend” pleaded with him. “Come on, man. You haven't gotten laid in like what- a decade? A century? I know this great place that as fucking delicious whores, all clean, and they give it up for a reasonable price.” The man was insufferable.
To start with, Byakuya had barely gotten back from his assignment before his recent best (and only) friend called him up, begging dinner at a “fancy fucking-ass restaurant” off of him. Ah, Night Havern. The richest man in possibly the whole country, mooching, as usual. That guy was redundancy in human form.
To top it all off, he wanted the attentions of a prostitute. It wasn't has if the man needed it. Standing at 6'5 with a thin, athletic build, the guy wasn't exactly desperate for that sort of attention. Chocolate-colored hair pulled back into a small ponytail, his handsome face and green eyes were practically glowing. If women didn't swarm over him for his money, it was almost always definitely for his looks. The man had a more than a few quirky habits but Byakuya wasn't one to pass judgment.
Finishing up his steak, the assassin arched his brow at his exuberant friend. “I didn't realize they still had whore houses in this age.” He put down his fork carefully and picked up his napkin, wiping his mouth.
“Course they do! And that's what makes this fucking hell hole beautiful.” Night waggled his eyebrows and grinned. “I know your dying for a taste of that forbidden fruit, my friend.”
Byakuya nearly snorted into his napkin. Right, like he needed something else forbidden. A normally anti-social assassin, seeking the forbidden fruit. How cliché. He shook his head slowly and gave Night a mock scowl.
“Why do always insist I go with you to commit your illegal acts?”
Night grinned triumphantly. “Does that mean you'll come with?” he asked, practically twitching in his seat.
Byakuya sighed and looked at his watch. He didn't have any other “assignments” for the remainder of the day but he hated staying out too late just incase he got an early morning one.
“How long does it take to get there?” he asked, sighing again.
Night practically jumped out of his seat. “About an hour or so. Let's hop to it.”
Saratoga, New York-Present Day
Someone knocked on Lily's door causing the two teens to jump. The blonde looked quickly down at the sleeping red head in his lap and up at the clock. Eight pm. Who in the world could that be? Usually their day ended at around 7pm, the doors closing for any possible johns. Hmm…
He slid carefully from under Ichigo and walked to the door, opening it. It was the madam. He tensed slightly at her pleased smirk but gave a pleasant smile in return. He was first and foremost a performer. “How may I be of service to you, madam?”
The plump woman chuckled and pushed him out of the way. “YOU can't be of any service to me but your precious friend can. Wake him up. Tell him it's a chance to redeem himself.”
“There's no need. I'm awake,” Ichigo said, pushing himself tiredly off the floor. “What do you want?”
The madam ignored his insolence and instead chose to smirk maliciously at him. “Clean up. You'll be entertaining a very important person. I'll give you 20 minutes before I have the guards come up and fetch you. Can you manage?”
Lily stopped his friend before he could say anything rash. “Yes, I'm most certain he can, madam. He'll be washed and downstairs within the hour. Thank you.” He closed the door in her startled face. Ichigo stared in surprise at him.
“What? I don't like her either.”
~*~*~ ~*~*~
Byakuya tapped his foot with impatience, waiting for Night's personal whore to grace them with his presence. He had changed his mind halfway to the whorehouse, instead opting to sit idly by and let his friend get his kicks out of the women. Only, women today weren't his friend's choice. Night would switch back and forth between genders when he got bored with the other one. The ultimate player.
The woman in charge had asked Night to choose but he wanted to be surprised. “A little variety is nice, “ he had said. Variety, right. Nice.
The stairs squeaked softly, bringing him out of his thoughts and back into the present. They both turned simultaneously to stare at the teen coming down the stairs and Byakuya gasped. He was… he was…
The young man was delicate looking, with a shock of red hair and beautiful brown eyes. He was of medium height but gave off the aura of someone far more fragile. His thin figure clothed in a sheer silk shirt and soft brown cotton pants. Two materials at odds with each other.
As the teen drew closer, Byakuya could make out the dampness of his hair. The smell of gingery shampoo enveloped his nose, making him hard. Just then, the light hit the red head's face. Bruises. Bruises and tiny cuts. They were visible through the thin fabric of his shirt, too.
The view that accosted them made a rush of unfamiliar emotions surge through the assassin's body- the likes of which he'd never felt before. Possessiveness, jealously, fierce lust, anger, rage, an intense desire to claim what was his.
Wait, his? Byakuya caught the glance of his friend and scowled. “Choose another one,” he growled softly. Night blinked once and shrugged. Motioning for the madam, he cast a curious glance at Byakuya.
The man was practically seething with dark rage and something else. The emotions shot through the air like small waves of electricity. His normally empty gray eyes were filled with jealousy and possession. Was all that for the red head. This would be amusing to watch.
~*~*~ ~*~*~
Ichigo made his way down the stairs, his heart heavy. This wouldn't ever end, would it? He would be stuck here until he died. The weight of sorrow nearly made him turn back up the stairs and just run. He had tried running away once… that hadn't (obviously) turned out in his favor.
He could do this. Don't think, just do it. Don't think, just do it. That was his personal motto in life. He descended the stairs, one foot in front of the other, and determination built with each step. He could do this; if not for himself then for Lily. He grasped the railing tightly in his hand, using it for support. He had gotten a serious fucking beating earlier.
Reaching the last couple of steps he looked up into warm green eyes. This man was reasonably attractive, humor etched solidly into his features. Ichigo relaxed slightly until he looked over at the man's friend. The pit of stomach seemed to drop and his mouth went dry.
The man glaring at him poured out waves of dark, erotic sexuality. His long black hair framed a feral face with eyes that practically oozed intensity. The man was seated casually on the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Despite the harmlessness of that pose, he seemed ready to… pounce. The black silk of the man's shirt clung to a chest and abs that looked like it could do a whole load of laundry.
The black haired man leaned forward and frowned, his full lips pulling downward ever so slightly. Ichigo backed up. That man was far too dangerous. The other man seemed to watch them both with an air of amusement.
His scowl deepened as his gaze traveled farther down Ichigo's body. What was the guy's problem? If he didn't like what he saw, he could just send him back. Didn't he know that? It would be a relief…
Just as he was about to open his mouth and tell him this, the madam came over. “Is something the matter, gentlemen? Is he not satisfactory? If so, I can-”
She was cut off by a low growl and a second later, she was pinned to the wall. The angry man shoved her harder into it, ignoring his friend's protests. “What kind of business are you running here, lady? Why is he bruised? Speak quickly or die.”
The madam gaped at him in disbelief. “You managed to find this place and yet you don't know what it's for? We sell sex, you fool. And what I do with my slave is none of your- mmph!”
The man slapped her hard across the face. “You don't mind if I take him out of here, do you?”
The man's friend grabbed his arm. “Hey man, if you're gunna take your love bunny over there, I'd suggest you hurry before her hired goons arrive. And I swear to you, I only thought it was a whore house… not a fucking trafficking ring.” The friend turned toward the woman, his eyes twinkling. “And you, miss. If you know what's good for you, I'd suggest that you let my friend here take what he wants and go. You should be lucky he's a heartless bastard and doesn't want to `save' the rest.”
The madam nodded meekly and the man let her fall to the ground. Ichigo watched all of this, disbelief on his face. What the… What the hell was going on?
Shaking, he wrapped his arms around his waist. The man stalked toward and he drew back, more nervous than he'd ever been. What did this guy want with him? Was the madam selling him? He gave a small sob and the man stopped, his expression suddenly unsure.
“I'm saving you, little one. You're free now.” The man's voice was gruff, but not unpleasantly so and Ichigo found himself wishing he could hear it again.
“I-I can't,” he said, shakily. “M-my friend, Lily… I can't leave h-him.” He looked down at his feet. He didn't believe for a moment that he was finally free… He wouldn't trust anyone ever again.
The man's friend spoke up from behind him. “This Lily, what room is she in? I'll go and get her.” Ichigo didn't bother correcting his mistake. Maybe if he only liked girls he would leave Lily alone once they escaped. Yeah, as soon as he got out of these doors, he would run from the two men. Then they'd really be free.
He cleared his throat nervously. “Uh, up the stairs, first door on the right. Tell Lily that Ichigo said it was okay.”
The good-humored man saluted once and made his way up the stairs, two at a time. As they waited, the dark-haired man moved forward. “My name is Byakuya. What's yours?” His tone had softened considerably, as if talking to a wild animal. He didn't care. He wouldn't ever trust this man or anyone else besides Lily.
“My name is… Bob. Bob Roberts.” He said, smirking on the inside. If… no, when they escaped, he didn't want the other man to be able to track him. He cursed belatedly as he realized he had given Lily's real first name. Well, if he could convince Lily to act the part of a woman then they would be okay.
The dark-haired man didn't look amused. He stepped closer and stared deep into his eyes, as if searching for something.
“You're lying. Tell me-”
“My man!” His friend interrupted Byakuya. Ichigo looked up and gasped. Lily was tucked under his arm, struggling for all he was worth while the man casually smoked a cigarette. He winked at Ichigo.
“Here's your friend, little guy. She won't believe that I'm only here to do good. Reason with her.” He placed Lily gently down onto his feet and he scrambled over to Ichigo, grabbing onto his arm. “Ichi-mmph!” He quickly placed a hand over the blonde's mouth, silencing him. Lily met his gaze and he shook his head slightly.
Speaking out loud, he turned toward Byakuya. “I was just telling my rescuer here that my name was Bob Roberts. He doesn't believe me. Well, Lily here will set you straight. She's very reliable.” He emphasized the word “she” slightly to tip the young man off.
The blonde blinked once before nodding, a sweet smile on his face. “Oh yes, “ he said, his voice in falsetto. “Absolutely. Bob and I are best friends. Known him since I was a little girl.”
Byakuya's face didn't change expressions as he grabbed Ichigo by the hand and pulled him the rest of the way toward him. He scooped him up bridal style and tucked his head neatly under his chin. The red head barely concealed the embarrassing urge to moan in pleasure at the wonderful scent of the man. He smelled rich and earthy; almost like what Ichigo pictured the rainforest to smell like.
“Alright, Bob. Night, grab that other one and let's get going.”
“That other one” was picked up in the same way, much to his dismay and Night's great amusement. The man's smile was disengaging but only seemed to add to the small blonde's uncharacteristic indignation and fury. Lily slapped him on the cheek and huffed when Night just laughed. “Let's get going, my little fiery one.”
Ichigo remained silent as they headed out into the night air, plotting in his head. He'd make his furtive escape just before they reached the car but… He looked about at the dangerous scowl plastered across Byakuya's face.
Would it work?
A.N: Ha ha. A cliffhanger. Maybe I'm being presumptuous to think that readers will want to read more but somehow I find myself not caring. I'm very content in how this story is turning out. So, those of you haven't noticed, this an AU fan fiction. It means it's an alternate universe, with original characters inevitably included. I'm proud of my characters. *laughs* So, read and review. Tell me what you think of the story… about Lily and Night Havern. About Byakuya and Ichigo. I'll update often since I'm passionate about this story. Hurray!