Author's Note: I haven't had time to write anything for so long that even though I ought to be studying, I simply HAVE to write. Bleach forever!

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach

Caged

By annyenil

Chapter 5

"For the last time, Matsumoto, NO." An exasperated Hitsugaya Toushirou glared at his loyal but troublesome fukutaichou who was now pouting at him with the most lugubrious eyes and maudlin expressions. How was he supposed to know that being in a circus could really make people feel all farcical and childish? Already his partner had never consigned to do her work properly, but with the bubbling atmosphere of pure entertainment around them, Matsumoto Rangiku's mental age had taken a sudden plunge towards infancy.

"But, taichou," Rangiku whined in a manner that would have melted the hearts of most men in Sereitei, "Can't we just buy candy floss? Look, they have green ones that match your eyes!"

But not this man……boy.

An increasingly irascible Hitsugaya incisively ignored the umpteenth request for her to run off during a mission and crossed his arms, metaphorical smoke emitting from above his head in the form of evaporating, sticky and annoying perspiration. This place contained too much ebullience and facetiousness for his decorum. The fact that he was on a mission to be buried among foolish men who thought he was the child of a very hot and blossoming mother did not palliate the pain of it any more than it should have. If he weren't on a mission, he would have personally pulverized every single of those pathetic, libidinous farts that came up to him, patted his head and leered at Rangiku.

But that aside, there was indeed one comforting thought. In the past five hours of queuing under that sweltering sun, they had gone so close to the freak show that when the next show runs, it would probably be their turn. Hitsugaya had noted with interest how most shows had solicited little histrionic response which he had expected after receiving the frenetic reports from the Research Institute and Kurosaki's sister. Except the third show, during which a hysterical woman of about twenty was expelled from it midway with her eyes widening in perpetual, looming fear and her body shaking so vigorously it was like her soul being shaken away. Except the little taichou knew that wasn't possible.

It served wonderful publicity so much that they were beginning to doubt if the mission was going to be fruitful.

Alas, upon Rangiku's two-hundred-and-twenty-first request to visit the washroom and play with the hand dryer, the pair were admitted into the arena where the freakshow would take place. Hitsugaya observed the surrounding crowd with interest. Some wore cynical faces imbued with skeptism; others were excited and trembling in the most sensual fear there existed; some had their eyes closed; some were carrying superstitious items that supposedly warded off the evil death god.

"Ladies and Gentlemen." The voice of a mercenary spoke. There was something……sinister and familiar about that voice, but they passed it off. Rangiku grabbed onto Hitsugaya's thin forearm rather forcefully, her slender fingernails biting into his toned, smooth skin nervously. "Welcome to the show, where you witness the living – DEATH!"

At that instant there was smoke, the most enigmatic smoke that engulfed the entire vision field of the audience. Voices were heard, it was waves and waves of hushed tones that combined into one chaotic fugue of fear and terror. Flickers, there were flickers and spotlights were switched on as some teenaged females passed out in the audience after letting out squeals and whimpers.

The curtains of the stage before them fell.

"Taichou!" Matsumoto screamed. So did the rest of the audience, but for apparently different reasons.

Hitsugaya Toushirou's heart sank as his eyes confirmed the impossible. There, before him on the stage, encased in a thick layer of reiatsu shielding glass, stood that familiar figure.

"Kurosaki Ichigo." He frowned.