*Ahem* Sorry I'm taking so long in updating Symphony of Souls XD I was working on this piece. This is AU. Byakuya isn't in the gotei 13 he's just a rich young noble. I can't give away Ichigo's role but they do not know each other. This will eventually contain lemon so you've been warned :D. Tell me what you think! I used normal ages because my tiny brain can't understand soul society's complicated system -_- . I mean people are captains for hundreds of years and don't age *shrugs* *shares the love and cyber brownies for reviewers!*

Thunder rumbled faintly somewhere in the distance as a mass of dark clouds gathered from the east and began to completely cover the sky over the forty-fifth district in West Rukongai. It was going to rain again, it seemed.

Kuchiki Byakuya fairly enjoyed the rain, that is, when he remembered sitting in the warmth and comfort of his home while watching it patter softly outside. When he thought about it now- the cold droplets soaking through his worn yukata and chilling him to the bone – he really couldn't find a tolerance for it.

It also made it hard for him to sleep, something he once liked to do on rainy days. The pieces of card that served as his make-shift shelter would get soggy and rip, leaving him completely vulnerable. When the rain stopped he would always have to trek out to find more. It was beneath him, and went against his personal teachings, but sometimes, he'd have to take more forcefully, even from those who were just as unfortunate as himself. Colds were more frequent, and without medicine or somewhere warm to stay, he had to contend with them for several days until they passed.

If anyone would have told him months before that he – the proud heir to the Kuchiki clan - would be spending his nights sleeping on the hard ground and his days searching for food, he wouldn't have believed them or even spared them a reply.

An icy glare maybe. He had enough of those to spare, but not a response to such an unbelievable claim. How could such a thing befall a noble such as himself?

They would have been correct though. As completely ludicrous and outrageous as the idea was, it had somehow come to pass.

It had all happened so quickly, and yet when he had finally gotten wind of it, he found out that it was a culmination of a slow progression of events. Like a disease, festering over the years in the dark.

The proud and noble Kuchiki clan had been plotting in the shadows.

He would never have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes. How could they? After all the work their ancestors put in to raise the Kuchiki name to the top, bring the clan into the circle of the four great nobles; made it a name that demanded respect and admiration wherever it was whispered. How could they have thrown that away!

He had been blissfully unaware of their happenings, but who would believe such a thing when the entire family was dragged in the mud? Who would even listen over the blare of a crumbling infrastructure?

Apparently, they had long since sided with Aizen when they realized his potential. They assisted him secretly, but hesitant about his intentions, they took their time in coming to terms with where they truly stood. In the end they'd chosen the subtle allure of power that he emitted and showed on rare occasions. The deadly pull of everything he represented.

They should have expected the consequences when dancing with the devil. Someone who betrayed those that had all trust in him without the slightest bit of remorse would never be loyal. Not to anyone. Obvious. But blocked out by the blind eye they turned. The naïve eye.

Aizen, of course, betrayed them, and ghosted away to Hueco Mundo leaving them high and dry and exposed with nowhere to run. With the utmost secrecy – they had begged for at least that bit of charity, begged! – they were taken down quietly without an elaborate commotion.

Byakuya lost many things on that day. His pride, his home, his status. He would never allow them to catch him and smear his name with something he had no knowledge of. It hurt him, but left no other choice.

He wouldn't say that he fled Seireitei, he just left in order to avoid unnecessary conflict. With only the clothes on his back and his sword firmly at his side, he retreated to the only place he could; Rukongai.

He was moderately aware from the start, the living conditions that he would be facing, but he never imagined it to be this way.

Finding food here was a miracle, and could be called nothing else. He had survived on the minor scrapings that were thrown out, often because in a fight for it, he was unmatched. But he couldn't draw attention to himself and when s hinigami came into Rukongai for various reasons, he always had to keep a low profile- not that those of such low rank ever had a chance of detecting him.

A little raindrop fell and rolled down his cheek. Before he could find the energy to wipe it away, it was followed by a stream of cold droplets, pelting him.

He curled his knees up to his chest and shrunk further into the darkness of the lonely alley. He had long since stop worrying about the state of his clothes, and what various remains he was wallowing in. It was just about soaking what little warmth he could, which was never much to speak of.

This was how all his days were spent, in pitiful mediocrity, a blaring contrast to all he once had. And what he had now. His mind felt numb, as if did whenever he thought about the state his life had become. He stared blankly at the raindrops sending ripples though the puddles at his bare feet and remembered when he never knew pain.

He couldn't recall when the feeling of water rolling down his face stopped, or when a darkness had fallen over him not because of the dark grey clouds covering the sky.

His weary blue eyes looked up into the underside of a red paper parasol and beneath it was a man with the closest thing to a kind smile he'd received since ending up here.

Experience made his face sharp, but not as sharp as his slanted green eyes which Byakuya could feel appraising him despite the warm smile across his admittedly handsome face. He appeared to be just out the freshness of youth, and into a more mature harshness, brown tresses curled around his face and hung loosely from the messy knot at the back of his head.

Still gripped in mild shock, Byakuya could only stare as the man knelt down to be eye level, that dis-arming smile still aimed at him. He snapped out of his daze quickly and readied his hand by his side and on the hilt of his sword.

"You look cold," the man commented, his voice eerily coarse and odd with his somewhat youthful appearance.

"What do you want? I don't have any money if that's what you're looking for." Byakuya had had many experiences with the different forms of scum who would try to steal from anything that moved. He wasn't far himself from becoming one of them. It was obvious he had nothing, but some wouldn't hesitate to steal even the clothes on his back.

"I wouldn't expect you to," he replied. He eyed him up and down, paying special attention to his face. Byakuya's fingers twitched and he moved to draw his sword.

The man stood suddenly, still holding the umbrella over him. "Today is your lucky day. It's decided, come with me."

"I must decline," Byakuya said impassively, not lowering his guard for a moment.

"Eh?" The man looked positively thrilled now. "You must decline? How very elegant of you. I suppose you like sitting in the rain and wallowing in shit then?"

It wasn't a question Byakuya felt a need to respond to. "If that's all the business you have with me, please leave."

"Humph. I don't want hurt you, if that's what you think. There'd be no benefit in that."

Benefit? What is he getting at?

"You're about seventeen, right?"The man looked down on him like he was a particularly interesting insect, deviating from the trail of mindless drones toiling away.

It was a bit unsettling and Byakuya couldn't help but feel that this wasn't going to end peacefully.

"No."

"How old are you then?"

No answer.

Blue eyes narrowed in suspicion and locked with green eyes swirling with annoyance. The man sighed without interest and scratched at his exposed chest from his opened kimono.

Calculating eyes, and harsh facial structure aside, he looked like a rather decent man. But Byakuya wasn't about to trust him because he looked respectable. When you let your guard down, fooled by false facades, was when you are most vulnerable for attacks.

He had always known this, but ample amount of time in Rukongai had only reinforced it. Even the most angelic of faces could turn out to harbor evil intent.

He wasn't armed – as far as Byakuya could see – and he was still shielding him from the rain. But that gesture alone wasn't enough of a basis to judge him on.

Byakuya got to his feet and put some distance between them, wondering why he hadn't done it sooner.

A gust of wind collided with the wet fabric plastered to his body making him shiver violently. His hair clung to his face, obscuring some of his vision, but he unsheathed his sword steadily and pointed it at the face now set in a grim expression, mouth drawn in a tight frown.

"You're really serious about this aren't you?"

Byakuya tensed and prepared to strike if the man so much as coughed or looked at him the wrong way. The man, on the other hand, looked quite at ease, calmly standing with the umbrella over himself even though a blade was currently pointed at his chest.

Did he think he would miss?

"You're a fool if you underestimate the sharpness of my blade." An undeniable bluff. He wouldn't hurt anyone un-necessarily and the stranger didn't pose a threat. As yet.

"I don't," he said solemnly, taking step after step.

Byakuya could see him advancing, he could see him slowly but steadily coming closer, but he was overpowered by a sudden wave of nausea that crippled him to the very core and made him sway.

"Oi, you all right?" Another step put him closer, backing the stumbling young Kuchiki heir further into the alley and up against a wall.

"D-Don't come any closer." His head was spinning now, and combined with the light drizzles, gave everything a fuzzy and somewhat surreal misted outline.

His grip was weakening. He could feel his sword slipping from his hand and his feet threatened to buckle beneath him.

"W-Why now of all times!"

"Because you're straining yourself," he replied to Byakuya's question. "When was the last time you ate something?"

"That's a good question," Byakuya replied, panting. If he could at least control his breathing, he could regain momentary usage of his body. His useless arms, quaking legs.

The enemy could attack at any moment. So why hadn't he yet?

"What are you waiting for? Why don't you attack?"

"The answer should be obvious, hell I've been saying it this whole time so get it through your thick head. I don't want to hurt you."

"You don't expect me to believe that, do you?" Byakuya countered.

"It'd be nice if you did," he said with an amused smirk. "It'd save time and energy, now come on."

"I said not to come near me!" Byakuya began swinging wildly. Not a very wise choice of action, but he could hardly calm himself down now. Even with a weapon, this stranger still had the upper hand.

"You're gonna hurt yourself swinging that thing around so wildly!" Ducking and weaving, trying to avoid a potentially dangerous attack, the man reluctantly backed away from him.

Byakuya breathed an inward sigh of relief though his headache was still fluctuating. He might actually have a chance here, at the price of the man thinking he was a raving lunatic.

It happened so fast, or maybe the dullness of his senses didn't give him time to notice when the man moved, as quick as a flash, before his last bit of strength had failed him, and caught him when it did, making sure he never touched the ground.

Clattering loudly, his sword fell from his limp hands, his body slumping against the man who supported his weight, holding him across the mid-section.

"Told ya," he smirked.

Byakuya tried to wriggle to free himself. He would not accept pity nor would he accept the man's apparent charity and his smug expression. Who did he think he was!?

"L- Let go…"

"In this situation-" he adjusted him, putting one of Byakuya's arms over his shoulder and gripping him around the waist, "-I would say that you're not in a position to argue."

They stared each other down; Byakuya's will to deny help blazing, but he was clearly defeated and he knew it. Hell, the malicious smirk coming from his odd helper said that he knew it too.

In the end, the man knelt down and retrieved his sword, and between balancing his weight, carrying his sword and trying to shield them both from the rain with his umbrella, it was a miracle they made it their destination without falling.

He was half carried, half dragged through a series of connected alleys that took him deeper and farther into the depths of Rukongai that he'd never seen before; where sunlight did not seem to reach, and reeked with dankness.

People who had nowhere to go like himself lined the narrow walkway, pressed up against walls and each other, their tattered clothing pulled over their heads to hide their gaunt faces or simply glad for what the sky's blessing provided; a bath, something to quench the thirst, relief.

Byakuya felt a gentle squeeze on his hip as the man steered him to the right and to a fair sized house with a second and third level. Not wasting anytime, he was guided inside where a wave of warmth rolled over him. Everything was still hazy and he couldn't make out the various shapes, but they vaguely resemble people.

"Makoto-sama!"

"Makoto-sama!"

A barrage of voices, loud and demanding, grated on his ears, aggravating his headache.

"Prepare me some tea and a hot meal. Some hot water also. Now!"

"Yes, Makoto-san."

"Hey, stay with me," he commanded, shaking Byakuya to get his attention when he caught a glimpse of his eyes closing. The action didn't sit well with Byakuya's body and he sharply covered his mouth to catch the contents that came flying out.

"Shit."

He was lifted. Actually lifted off the floor, and swept up into the man's arms. His body shook with anger and disgust. He needed his sword! This man would die! How shameless. Had the entire contents of his stomach – which shouldn't have been nothing – not been unceremoniously spouting from his mouth and nose this man would be already dead. To lift him like a female!

He was carried to a room swiftly where he was gently put down onto something soft. He vaguely remembered the feel and sensations of soft things after sleeping on the rough ground for months.

Almost as quickly as he was laid down, something warm was placed on his forehead.
"Makoto- sama who is this?"

Byakuya could see the stranger leaning over him, prying open his eyes. "Never mind that. Looks like he's suffering from mal-nutrition. Look at how dark under his eyes are."

The man - who was now identified to be Makoto – removed the thing from his forehead and replaced it with another, just a warm. He then took a small cloth, dipped it in the warm water, and wiped Byakuya's mouth.

"What should we do?" It was a different voice that asked the question.

"Will he be alright?"

"Hmm, Makoto- sama really knows how to pick 'em."

"This one might be trouble, if you ask me."

"No one asked you, Hayato," someone said cruelly.

"Bitch."

There was a sound of a door sliding open. "All of you shut the hell up!" A harsh voice commanded. The room became deathly silent and he was sure he felt Makoto's hand waver a little. "Get out."

Footsteps padding away were the only sounds left, not even a whisper from the apparent crowd. The door slid shut, and the owner of the voice approached. "Makoto, what is the meaning of this?"

He was a petite man, wearing a bright red kimono and rouge on his lips and over his eyes.

"Chou-san."

"There's a rumor that there's a new boy pretty enough to rival even Hayato," he started conversationally, sitting beside Byakuya. "Strange though, that you would tend to him yourself and not let one of the boys do it."

"What are you trying to imply?" Makoto paused in his task for the first time to look at the man called Chou.

"I'm just pointing out a fact," he said a little too sweetly.

There was definite tension between them.

Byakuya who had only been a spectator up until then decided he needed some answers. The warmth in the room made him feel immensely better and he tried to sit up, with some difficulty.

"Drink this." Makoto broke the trance between himself and Chou to hand Byakuya a cup of tea. "You should try to rest some more."

Byakuya merely eyed it. "Where am I?"

Chou sneered nastily at Makoto's still out stretched hand. He looked troubled for some reason.

"Get some sleep. We'll discuss it tomorrow."

"We'll discuss it now."

Chou smiled triumphantly. "Quite a feisty one you picked up."

"Shut up."

"How can I? You know he can't spend the night, Ma-chan. That would be inappropriate."

"Why?" Byakuya asked the man called Chou, who seemed to be the only one willing to divulge any information.

"Everyone who sleeps under this roof has to earn their keep. What would the others say if they found out? Favoritism is highly frowned on. It could lead to questions like; Why you and not another?"

Makoto shot Chou an icy glare to which he whole heartedly returned. "Unless, that is what a certain owner had in mind from the beginning."

Makoto finally placed the steaming cup of tea at his feet, hiding his hands within the sleeves of his green and gold kimono and averting his eyes to the window.

Chou smiled. "If you want to stay here, you have to work here," he said quietly, keeping his eyes on the clenching jaw of Makoto.

"What-" Byakuya was about to ask but was cut off when Chou stood abruptly and grinned wildly.

"Welcome to Ecstasy, male escort club. We provide our services to our select male patrons."

TBC