Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Minutes to Midnight ❯ Bitter Masquerade ( Chapter 21 )

Title: Bitter Masquerade

Characters: Byakuya, Renji, Rukia, and Hueco Mundo cast

Rating: T

Warning: Language

Words: 3,480

Description: Taking a great risk to save her brother, Rukia and Renji head into Hueco Mundo.

 

 

Byakuya woke up the nauseating feeling of movement and a face full of black fabric. His arms were dangling downwards, fingers brushing against some type of cloth as his belly jarred against a rather hard shoulder.

 

It took several seconds for the truth to seep in.

 

He was being carried. Over someone's shoulder. Slung like baggage or a sack of vegetables.

 

And to make matters worse, he could definitely feel a breeze across his bare legs, as well as the arm locked around his knees to keep him from falling. A somewhat cool wind whispered across his bare feet. He was still in his hospital gown, the thin fabric definitely not enough to keep out the strange chill.

 

The indignity could not have possibly been any worse were it not for the fact that a whiff of subtle scents and a very familiar baritone identified his kidnapper. His own vice-captain had apparently stolen him from the fourth division while he was under the influence of Unohana's strong sedatives. And the bastard had somehow conned his sister into helping.

 

“Renji,” Byakuya growled out through clenched teeth, cutting into their quiet discussion on the origin of the bare trees around them. “Put. Me. Down.” He beat a fist against his vice-captain's back, just in case the younger man hadn't heard him.

 

Rather than immediately obey, Renji scoffed. “Make me, hime,” he taunted and gave his reluctant burden a little hitch that made Byakuya's breath catch.

 

The Kuchiki heir fought the urge to scramble for something to hold on to.

 

Rukia's face came into view as she dropped back, looking sheepishly at her brother. “I brought your stuff for you, nii-sama,” she explained, showing him the armful of belongings. He could barely make out his expensive scarf, the Kenseikan, and a few other odds and ends.

 

Byakuya, however, was no more pleased than he had been before.

 

“That's supposed to make me feel better?” he demanded with an attempt to use his most commanding voice. It was the one that made all his subordinates freeze in their tracks, hearts skipping a beat. “Abarai Renji, your taichou demands that you put him down.”

 

It was so disconcerting to be ass up in a hospital gown in what was probably hostile territory. Not to mention all the blood was rushing to his head, making his face take on a reddish sheen that was not dignified in the slightest.

 

“Don't look like much of a taichou now,” Renji scoffed, tightening his hold around Byakuya's knees. “You couldn't even beat an Academy student.”

 

There was the sound of a smack as Rukia popped her friend across the head, ignoring his cry of pain and immediate flinch. Renji's free hand rubbed at the offended portion of his empty skull, as though it had actually hurt.

 

“Don't taunt nii-sama,” she scolded. “You'll hurt his feelings. Besides, his injuries are still sensitive. You know what Unohana-taichou said. The first few months would be difficult.”

 

“I can hear you,” Byakuya snarled, his jaw beginning to pain from the effort of clenching his teeth. His fingers curled into useless fists.

 

Both of them ignored him.

 

Renji scowled. “Ya didn't have ta hit me.”

 

“It's the only way to get common sense through your thick skull,” Rukia countered knowingly as she shifted the weight of Byakuya's belongings in her arms.

 

They were still ignoring him.

 

“What do you two think you're doing!” Byakuya ordered. He thumped a fist against his vice-captain's back for good measure; Renji could handle a little beating. “And where are we?”

 

Rukia returned to his field of vision, all traces of teasing gone from her expression. “The only place that I could think of to get help,” she answered in all seriousness, looking partially apologetic.

 

“And that would be?”

 

“Hueco Mundo, tai… err, I mean, Kuchiki-sama,” Renji answered for Rukia and shifted Byakuya's weight again with a little bounce that made the noble's head spin.

 

His belly kept shoving into the broad length of Renji's shoulders, knocking the breath out of him. Even so, Byakuya managed a burst of surprise.

 

Grey eyes widened. “What?”

 

An apologetic look was cast his way. “It was either that or living without your powers,” Rukia said.

 

And for once, he was glad for her short stature. It meant he could see her without having to strain his neck.

 

“Besides, Ichigo is here, and I need to talk to him.”

 

He remembered the orange-haired Vizard breaking into his home. Byakuya remembered that all too well. And also the other unwanted guests. It was Ichigo who had caused his current predicament, who had stripped him of his powers. Who had made him lower than a runt from Rukongai.

 

His fingers clenched into angry fists where they gripped onto Renji's back, digging into hard muscle.

 

“Kurosaki is the one who did this to me,” Byakuya stated coldly, the very air around them taking on a Hyourinmaru-esque chill.

 

Renji hissed and sucked in a pained breath. “Easy, Kuchiki-hime. That fuckin' hurts.”

 

It was made all the more humiliating by his vice-captain's treatment of him. To be stripped of his title by his subordinate was a crushing blow, and Byakuya felt it every time Renji dropped the title of captain. Now, he had nothing but his status as head of the Kuchiki clan. Which considering his current location, meant absolutely nothing.

 

“He did a lot of things,” Rukia answered, her tone filled with a measure of hurt as she easily ignored Renji's pained look. “And I'm beginning to think we deserved it.”

 

“We” of course meaning Soul Society.

 

Renji chose that moment to come to a sudden halt, disturbing his burden with the abrupt lack of motion. At least, he was finally able to focus on the white sand beneath them and look around their current position without making his head spin.

 

The vice-captain cleared his throat. “Uh, Rukia?”

 

Prompted by his uncertainty, she turned away from comforting her brother and stepped beside Renji.

 

Byakuya couldn't see what was in front of him, and it irked him. The feeling of being watched, of being in danger, crawled across his skin. And he couldn't defend himself. He was as helpless as a child. Yet another humiliating strike against him.

 

There was the sound of some type of footwear stepping across the shifting sands.

 

Rukia's voice joined the soft noise. “They sent you to meet us?” she questioned, her tone filled with surprise and disbelief. And recognition.

 

It was someone she knew then. Not that that particular knowledge helped Byakuya in the slightest.

 

He twisted around, trying to catch a glimpse of the new arrival but couldn't get a good view. His damn broad vice-captain was simply too big. And still carrying him. Byakuya swore that as soon as he regained his Shinigami powers, he would take several pieces out of his lieutenant. Including a shock of that hair he seemed to love so much.

 

“Ya still haven't lost that retarded hat,” Renji scoffed, his burden able to feel the rumble of his voice from his back. “Everyone else here, too? Yoruichi and Inoue-san and Ishida and all of `em?”

 

“They're somewhere else,” a voice answered, one that Byakuya recognized. It filled with amusement. “Who's the girl with the nice ass? I didn't think you were bringing guests.”

 

He had thought the indignity couldn't get any worse. He was wrong.

 

“It's just nii-sama. He wouldn't have come quietly.”

 

His damned vice-captain then proceeded to snicker, snicker, at his captain's expense. “Yeah, we were hopin' ya could fix him.”

 

“I'm not a broken toy!” Byakuya hissed through clenched teeth, forcing himself to keep his legs from kicking in a childish tantrum.

 

There was a moment of silence as Urahara hummed musingly. “So I see,” he finally commented.

 

Byakuya just imagined the look of bemusement on his face. He was being sufficiently ignored like a box of cargo.

 

They began to walk, and Byakuya sighed, rolling his eyes. He was getting really tired of this.

 

“We know you were able to get Ichigo's powers back,” Rukia said hopefully.

 

“Ichigo was a special case,” the shopkeeper reminded her, though he couldn't quite keep the giddy interest out of his tone. “But I'll see what I can do.”

 

“I'm right here!” Byakuya seethed aloud.

 

“Where's Ichigo?” Rukia asked.

 

Ignored. Yet again.

 

“Follow me.” There was a snap that sounded like the closing of a fan and the rustle of clothes. “I'll take you to him.”

 

And suddenly, they were moving in flits of shunpo that made Byakuya's head spin. The abrupt change in speed, followed by being unable to sense reiatsu at all was throwing his mind completely. His stomach churned dizzily, and the urge to vomit rose up in him. He clutched onto the back of Renji's shihakushou as the scenery moved by on a blinding pace, and he just knew he would have bruises on his torso by the time the day was through.

 

Just when he felt he was about to lose his last meal on Renji's back, they came to an abrupt stop. He couldn't keep in the pathetic moan that escaped his lips, head spinning and nausea practically his only sensation. His hair was in even more disarray than before, and he just knew that his hospital gown had ridden up. But he didn't even care about his dignity anymore. He just wanted to not shunpo anymore.

 

Then, Renji turned just a bit, and Byakuya was able to get a glimpse of their current location. The sound of zanpakutou striking and summons for kidoh floated to his ears, even if he couldn't sense the reiatsu. He caught sight of Kurosaki and Kira sparring each other, Ichimaru overseeing with a look of near pride on his face. He lost the glance in the next moment as another groan escaped him.

 

“Don't worry, nii-sama,” Rukia assured him, moving into his line of sight and patting him comfortingly on the back. “We'll get you fixed.”

 

It didn't make him feel a whit better.

 

Byakuya gave up and laid his forehead on Renji's back. If only his head would stop spinning.

 

“Oy!” Kurosaki's voice floated to his ears. “Rukia! Renji!”

 

And then, he was suddenly closer, likely having used shunpo to cross the distance. He paused and then popped around to Renji's back. Byakuya just knew he was being stared at.

 

“Hey, Byakuya,” Ichigo added and waved his hand in front of the Kuchiki noble's face.

 

He received the full force of a glacial, Kuchiki glare for his efforts. It didn't phase the former substitute Shinigami one bit.

 

“He came, after all,” Ichimaru added and meandered to their location a bit more slowly. His vice-captain, the traitor Byakuya reminded himself, was at his side. “Looks like we convinced ya.”

 

Byakuya's grip on Renji's shihakushou tightened. “Hardly.”

 

Beside his vice-captain, Rukia stiffened. Byakuya wasn't surprised. Ichimaru was one of her least favorite people, something about the smiling man having always set her on edge. Yet, she kept her mouth closed. Very wise considering they were in enemy territory and invading at that.

 

“Aizen's already waiting for you,” Ichigo explained, shifting around to see Renji and Rukia's face.

 

Byakuya felt Renji tense at the sound of the traitor's name. Byakuya himself felt instantly wary.

 

“Waiting for us?” he repeated, the whole incidence striking him as suspicious.

 

Urahara had come to meet them, after all. As if Aizen had been expecting them to come or knew they were there.

 

“Yes,” Ichigo answered as the group began to move again, thankfully not using shunpo, which meant they must have been close to Las Noches.

 

The former substitute stepped in line behind Renji, letting Urahara lead, so that he could speak to Byakuya. The noble knew what Ichigo was seeing. A once-proud noble dangling from his vice-captain's shoulder, hair askew and face reddened from the odd position.

 

“We had a feeling you'd be coming,” Ichigo elaborated and eyed the Kuchiki heir. “Though I'm surprised how quickly.”

 

Byakuya glowered in Ichigo's direction, though the effect was lost considering his current state of attire. “You did this to me,” he stated coldly. “How dare you?”

 

Gin shrugged. And it was only then that Byakuya noticed the two men were walking side by side, fingers interlaced.

 

“Calm down there, hime. We couldn't have ya fightin' us durin' the war, now could we? 'Sides, it's not like we hurt ya.”

 

“You killed Hitsugaya,” Byakuya countered. “What makes me any different?”

 

A variety of emotions crossed Ichigo's face, most of them unrecognizable. “He deserved it,” Ichigo said frostily. “And that's all I'm going to say about that.”

 

From the look in brown eyes, Byakuya decided not to question anymore, feeling a trace of fear thread through his belly. There was something there, a slow burning fury that still had not been sated. A part of him didn't want to know what betrayal the now deceased captain had done to invoke Ichigo's fury. Even Byakuya had not been so hated after his deeds during the time of Rukia's planned execution.

 

Kira dropped back to greet Byakuya, bowing his head faintly. “Kuchiki-san,” he said gently but in a stronger voice than the noble had ever heard him utilize. “I'm glad that you were able to come.”

 

“You say that like I had a choice.”

 

Ichigo lifted his shoulders. “Choice or not, you're here now. Best to make the most of it.”

 

“I will keep that in mind,” Byakuya responded, squaring his jaw.

 

Like hell. He had no intention of joining Aizen's little rebellion or making niceties with the enemy. He wasn't a traitor, like the others, and Byakuya aimed to prove it.

 

Just as soon as he saw Aizen.

 

- - -

 

The large room was rather devoid of extravagant markings, but with its high throne, it suited Aizen's foolish belief in his own supremacy. Their presence was announced by Urahara, throwing open the doors with a flourish, Benihime tapping against the polished floor.

 

“I brought guests, Sou-kun,” he announced, something sparkling in shadowed eyes as he took his position. It was on the right arm of Aizen's throne, to Byakuya's surprise, prompting the former captain to sigh in ever-patient annoyance.

 

Kurosaki, Ichimaru, and Kira abandoned those they were escorting in the doorway, taking up their own positions. At the base of Aizen's throne stood Tousen, somewhere off to the right, present but not really making a presence. Ichimaru found his place at Aizen's left hand, Kurosaki standing just beside him. Kira was nearby to Kurosaki and behind, appearing as though he was merely a retainer.

 

“Could you please put me down,” Byakuya asked in the most courteous voice he could muster. All demands had proved useless, after all.

 

Renji shifted his weight on his shoulder, grinding a broad shoulder into Byakuya's hip. “Ya still might run away.”

 

“Where would I go?” Byakuya demanded exasperatedly, forcing himself not to do something as undignified as wriggle. “Where can I possibly go?”

 

“I dunno. Somewhere,” Renji answered with a shrug, prompting his burden to be simply astounded by his vice-captain's intelligence. Really, completely flummoxed.

 

And then, he sensed Renji cringe, the red-haired idiot making an actual attempt to hide behind Rukia. As if a pineapple-headed moron wouldn't be noticed in the large hall. Twisting around, Byakuya caught sight of one of the Espada waving to him, a pink-haired man with a smile that reminded him all too much of Kurotsuchi.

 

It was then that Byakuya noticed, a bit belatedly, that they were surrounded by the enemy. Two Arrancar closed the doors behind them, standing in front and easily blockading the only exit Byakuya could see. The Espada, all ten… No, nine, one was missing. All nine of them lining up on either side of the room. And was one of them a child?

 

Apparently so because the green-haired creature was starting to wander his direction, a distinctly Yachiru-like gleam in her eyes.

 

“Welcome,” Aizen stated with a trace of amusement in his tone that was completely uncalled for. “You may put your burdens down.”

 

There was a snort that really sounded like laughter. Byakuya wasn't sure who it was coming from. But he was determined that when he did find out, they would regret it. The situation was not funny in the slightest.

 

“Alright... um... Aizen-tai...chou.” Renji shrugged and finally, finally set Byakuya down on his own two legs.

 

The switch in position left him somewhat dizzy, and he hated that Renji's hands on his shoulders were the only thing keeping him from toppling over in an instant. He drew himself up straight, hands trying to simultaneously pat down his hair and adjust his robe into something resembling dignity. He donned his noble facade like one would an elegant fabric, trying to find his pride somewhere amongst the scrap-heap where Renji had oh-so-neatly thrown it.

 

The child wandered his directly. “He's pretty, Itsygo,” she commented in a tone of wonder. “Can we keep `im?” She blinked innocently up at Byakuya.

 

He wasn't fooled. Children were conniving demons. Yachiru was the perfect example. Therefore, the small Arrancar received one of his best Kuchiki glares, even if its effect was slightly lost.

 

“No, you cannot,” he retorted stiffly, nearly shying away from the sticky fingers that were practically reaching for his hospital gown. It irked them that he happened to be inching towards his vice-captain, as though asking for Renji's protection. His ire increased.

 

Above him, looking down on his visitors, Aizen was most definitely amused. “Renji-kun, Rukia-chan, Byakuya-hime... Your arrival was not entirely unexpected,” he commented, suffering from the hands that seemed to be running through his hair.

 

Byakuya couldn't understand how he would allow that from Urahara. It was baffling.

 

“So we've heard,” the Kuchiki noble responded, one hand still trying to situate his clothing into something presentable. Alas, there wasn't much of the fabric to work with, wrinkled beyond compare. “What do you want?”

 

The former fifth-division captain lifted a brow as the shopkeeper beside him snickered. “What do I want? An odd question considering that it is you who has come to me.”

 

Rukia stepped up beside her brother, her voice remarkably even considering the nervousness he could see in her eyes. “We wanted to talk to Ichigo. And to help nii-sama.”

 

Aizen seemed on the verge of laughter. “And you thought I would be willing to off you aid? To my very own enemies?”

 

She blanched faintly at the hint of malice in his tone, realizing that she was indeed surrounded by her enemies. Yet, she stood firm. Byakuya was rather proud of her as she displayed a great amount of courage.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Brave,” a nearby Espada commented, one at the head of the line with brown hair and a goatee. He thumbed his chin, remnants of his Hollow's mask sitting on his collarbone. “And very, very foolish.”

 

“You do realize, now that you are here, I cannot allow you to leave,” Aizen commented. His gaze, no longer hampered by the ugly glasses, studied each of them closely.

 

Renji shifted. “We were willin' ta take the risk.”

 

“He does speak,” Tousen commented dryly, voice thick with disdain. “Though the question of intelligence remains unanswered. Both are hardly worth our time, Aizen-sama.”

 

From the corner of his eye, Byakuya caught sight of Renji reddening with embarrassment or possibly anger. His hands curled into fists, but he displayed restraint for once, somehow understanding that it was unwise to provoke their enemies. Byakuya applauded him inwardly for that, even as he felt his own surge of annoyance. That had been uncalled for. His dislike for Tousen grew, making him wonder if anyone even liked the justice-obsessed man.

 

Aizen, however, was displeased, his eyes finding the other traitor. “Kaname,” he began, tone enough to make the blue-haired Arrancar to Byakuya's left wince in subtle fear. “Refrain from insulting our guests. It is unbecoming.”

 

There was a sniff and a shallow bow. “As you say, Aizen-sama.”

 

“Guests,” Byakuya repeated doubtfully.

 

“Of course.” Aizen stood, dislodging Urahara from his place at the brunet's side. “Though uninvited. You are certainly not my prisoners.”

 

Renji snorted, the lingering feelings of insult granting him courage to speak. “Guests who can't leave.”

 

“A matter of self-preservation,” Aizen corrected and gestured faintly to them. “You came to me for help, not the other way around. Therefore, you are guests.”

 

Urahara nodded, rising to his own feet and snapping a fan out of nowhere. “And I'll get right to work on fixing Byakushi,” he added cheerily. “I think I've a few things that I'll try.”

 

The devious gleam did not bode well for Byakuya's health.

 

The look Aizen tossed Urahara's way was ever-patient before he returned his attention to his guests. “That is settled then.” He looked them over, evaluating and confirming. “Welcome to Las Noches.”

 

Somehow, Byakuya wasn't particularly enthused.

 

- - - - -