Bleach Fan Fiction

Shackled

By Kraven Ergeist

Why they kept her alive was beyond her - some crap about preventing the Hougyoku from completing some formula that involved the death of the Espada of Sacrifice. Though she knew it was not out of courtesy that her existence was preserved, Tia Halibel clung to life, her power bound in a collar that left her nullified, forever a prisoner of Soul Society.

She had no inkling as to how she had survived, or what had transpired after Aizen betrayed her. When she awoke, she found herself bedridden and bound within the 4th Division, with masked orderlies crowding over her with institutional disinterest. She had no strength, and couldn't fight them as she felt her body being healed. After numerous such disjointed memories, she remembered being woken up and brought in front of a trial of Shinigami, many of whom she remembered from the battle of Karakura.

Among them was the white haired brat.

She remained silent and stoic throughout the ordeal. The whole thing was bullshit to begin with – an act to maintain the illusion of civility. There was nothing civil about what was going on here. The people who stared down at her were doing so with unmasked hatred and disgust, and had no intention of even considering leniency.

All except that boy. He just stared at her, with the same feigned indifference he always had. He held his tongue throughout the duration of the trial. In fact, it didn't even look like he was part of the jury – just an observer.

At no point was a single word voiced in her defense. No one asked her why she did what she did, asked if she had any other choice than to side with Aizen. No one sympathized with the harsh world of the Espada, the constant battles for their very survival, the instincts that drove them to hunt and kill.

No one was put on trial for Apacci, Sun-Sun and Mila Rose's deaths.

Her markings, the bone fragments and tattoo that made her an Espada, were all gone - erased by the collar that bound her from her power. Some creation of the 12th Division that effectively reduced an Espada to the level of a soul that dwelled in Rukongai.

After the mock trial was over, she was given a drab white prisoner's robe, and placed in a cell. And there she stayed, to sulk, to grieve, the stew in her anger and remorse. She was a broken, caged animal, kept against her will. She longed for death, but lacked the means even to end her own life. She had nothing left, nothing to tie her to anything. Everyone she had owed anything to, anything she ever thought was important…

It had all been yanked from her.

Days became weeks, weeks became months, and still nothing changed. She needed no sustenance, so no one even came by to deliver food. Every once in a while, a guard would walk by her door, but they didn't even glance inside. There was only a small window at the door, and an even smaller one that let her look outside. Not that she minded the dark. As a soul with her power bound, she had no power, not even to kill herself. She had no choice but to linger on as the days went on.

Until one day, the door opened without explanation or warning.

Having no visitors, nor will or capacity to cause enough of a disturbance to warrant disciplinary measures, she had been withheld from any form of human contact for the duration of her sentence. How much time had gone by? Weeks? Months? She had lost count. Not long enough for her mind to succumb to madness just yet, at least, so she thought.

"You seem to be getting on well…" an ironic and familiar voice sounded from the sliver of light let into her dark cell by the door.

Laying on the stone bench laid into the wall, Halibel glanced at the intruder, her bronze skin adorned by nothing more than her white prison robes, which felt as constricting as the collar that bound her power. The light hurt her eyes, and she grimaced to see who had decided to come and torment her.

She was only half surprised to see the white haired brat from before.

What was it about this boy? She had no illusions that he was as old as he appeared, and in fact, behaved far more maturely than his peers as a result of that appearance. So whatever motivated him to come to her like this, it wasn't likely to be for childish amusement, either by abuse or…some other form…

"What are you doing here?" she asked, bitter but honestly curious. Not only was the boy a puzzle to her, but he was her only human contact in this emptiness of spent time. When they had been opponents, they had both recognized each other's skill, which had satisfied the warrior within her. And at her trial, he was the only one who hadn't looked at her like she was worth less than nothing, like she was a stain on an otherwise spotless cloth.

What was it about this boy?

"I don't really know…" he said, moving out of the light. Backlit as he had been, his face had been obscured. As the door slid closed, and he moved closer to stand by her prone form, she could see his eyes drawn in the same expression he always seemed to make.

It was an expression that almost matched her own.

"Maybe I just came to check on you…" the boy offered, eyes meeting hers. Though these robes she wore were stifling, they still clung to her form, and could do little to mask the devastatingly alluring curves of her body. Still, his eyes remained on hers with no hint of the effect her body must be having on him.

No, it was not for amusement that this boy came to see her.

"Your concern is so touching…" Halibel droned, the sarcasm unmistakable in her voice, though her eyes remained unmovingly affixed to his.

The same green as her own.

"It's not right, what we've done to you…" he said, his voice in such a monotone that the otherwise consolatory words seemed no more than an idle observation.

Halibel did not respond, did not rise to the bait of the obvious hypocrisy – here he was, one of her captors, pretending to offer her compassion?

"Were you a prisoner of war, you would be executed," he went on. If he noticed the scorn plainly on her face, it did not deter him. "Were you one of our own, your sentence would be finite. But this…"

He shook his head in what she realized was honest self-loathing.

"…This is inhumane."

She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to rip him to pieces he made her so angry. Sympathy? From the enemy? She really had hit the bottom! She had been a proud warrior, the third most powerful Espada! To be denied an honorable death, both by her commander, and her enemies was bad enough! But now, for one of her enemies to look on her, not with the hatred, fear and respect of a worthy adversary…but with sympathy? And compassion?

"Thank you so much for pointing that out to me, you little brat!" she spat, her teeth bared. "Now unless you're going to take that sword of yours -" she gestured to his Zanpakuto with her chin "- and end my misery for me, I would appreciate it -" she practically growled her words at him "- if you would leave me alone!"

She was used to lower level Arrancar quivering in fear whenever she grew angry at them. Even the other Shinigami regarded her with fear and disgust, like she was something unnatural. But not this boy. He didn't even flinch from her. She would have been impressed had the reaction not been a clear reminder of her fall from grace.

"I can't kill you," he said, as if she was not raging at him. He had no fear in his voice – but then, what reason did he have to fear her? In her current form, she could expend all her energy, and not even be able to scratch him. "Our laws forbid it, and anyway you can't die in Soul Society as long as you wear that collar…"

Halibel had had enough. She rolled over and refused to look at him. "Go away…" she muttered weakly, shame crackling at the fringes of her voice.

"But maybe there is something I can do to ease your time here," he continued. She could tell by the sound of his voice that he hadn't moved.

"Like what?" she asked, still not looking at him. She was lying on her side with her back facing him.

The white prison robe dipped along her waistline, before rising again to encompass the fullness of her hips. Hitsugaya wondered absently if the men among the ranks of Espada looked at her the same way any other male might, if she had had to tolerate much in the way of propositioning…or even if she thrived upon it. She had so much pride, that he found it difficult to see her allowing anyone within an inch of her flesh.

"Like keep you from losing your mind," he crossed her arms, as if challenging her to contradict him.

Her shoulders heaved as she laughed. Or maybe sobbed.

"Ha! Like an Espada can't handle being locked away for a little while…" she was haughty, but still wouldn't face him. "You Shinigami are so soft."

"You're not an Espada anymore," he said, bringing the bitter truth to bear. "You're not an Arrancar, you're not even a Hollow. You're just a regular soul now, with the same needs and limitations as any other. You won't be able to endure isolation like you could in Hueco Mundo."

Halibel said nothing. She had suspected as much, but to hear it…

"This is part of your sentence, Tia Halibel," Hitsugawa said, using her full name. "That's why you're in pain right now. That's why you're crying."

"I am not crying!"

She wheeled on him in an instant, twisting her body to face him, her fists slamming uselessly into his shoulders, tears streaming down her face, face flushed red with rage and shame. Her glared him, eyes ablaze with fury. How dare he! How dare he make assumptions about her! As if he could see right through her! As if the proud and powerful Tres Espada would ever, ever cry over anything!

The young captain's hands clasped over her wrists as her head fell against his stomach, her body shaking furiously. "You don't have a lot of friends right now, Halibel…"

She sniffed, still shivering at the exertion, her hands still balled into fists against his captain's uniform.

"I'm offering to be one…" he said, his voice sounding lower, gentler. Soothing. "…If you'll accept me."

She froze, as if suddenly realizing how close together they had become. She pulled back to a sitting position, eyes fixated on her hands in her lap, chewing on her lips, nose wrinkled in a pout.

She hated him. She hated herself. She hated her human heart for succumbing to such paltry burdens. She hated how appealing his offer sounded…and most of all, hated how appealing the voice making the offer sounded.

"Why?" she mouthed, giving her hands the most intense death glare she could muster.

"I don't know," Hitsugaya admitted. "Maybe I'm just being a fool. But really…what do you have to lose?"

Her eyes still couldn't lift to meet the intense cold of his own. The collar must have been sapping her strength. That must be it.

"Sleep on it," Hitsugaya said with finality, turning around with a flail of his coat. She didn't look up to watch him go, but heard him pause at the door to look over his shoulder, and felt his gaze linger on her for a moment longer before closing the door.

She felt rage and shame boiling anew within her. God damn him! Damn him for making her feel this way, for taking advantage of her when she was so vulnerable! But it was only because she was so vulnerable that he was even here in the first place, the logic in her mind told her. It was her vulnerability to that had evoked his sympathy.

But that thought just made her angry! By all rights, she shouldn't even be here! She shouldn't even be alive! She was defeated. The Espada were defeated. Appacci, Sun-Sun and Mila Rose were dead. Why had Aizen betrayed them! Why had she lost to that brat! She was old enough to be his mother! And still…

She shivered, lying back on the stone bench, feeling suddenly very, very alone. That thrice-cursed Shinigami! He had been here for all of ten minutes, and already she longed for the company of another in a way she hadn't since she'd arrived here! Used to the solidarity of being an Espada, she had paid no heed to the growing knot of tension in her stomach but as the dull ache of defeat. Not knowing what it was, she could ignore it, as she had ignored everything. But after the Shinigami brat had revealed the truth to her, and had the nerve to tempt her with the offer of a reprieve, now her solitude was all she could think about!

Only her pride kept her from leaping to her feet and calling after him. She knew it was just the weakness of her now human heart, that these feelings didn't represent the true Tia Halibel, cold heartless killer she knew herself to be. But she couldn't escape this body, just as she couldn't escape this prison. She was trapped, alone and at the mercy of emotions she had never had to deal with for centuries.

Damn that boy! He was right – she was in pain. And she didn't have many friends. This was mostly due to the fact that, until she had been locked up, she had neither wanted nor needed nor had the option of friends. Her Fraccion were about as close as it came, and they were still mere subordinates. Espada didn't make friends. Espada were cutthroat, treacherous, and conniving, always looking for an opportunity to step above one another. That was just the way things were.

And she had been fine with that! She had been good at it! It wasn't a nice world by any means, but it had been hers! She had been at the top of it, too! Only two Espada (beside Yammy, who she didn't really count) had been her superior, and Barragan and Stark had no issue with her. She hadn't desired the power or authority that they had, for such positions drew unwanted attention. She had already been received enough attention for being female as it was! But it was a good position to be in – Stark and Barragan allowed her to have her peace, and she remained a loyal servant, content with her status.

All that had been torn from her.

By the Shinigami.

No, not the Shinigami, she reminded herself. The hatred of the Shinigami was something ingrained into her Hollow mindset since her beginning. Ever since she had become a Vasto Lorde and regained her sentience, she had long since decided that she didn't begrudge the Shinigami for hunting her kind, any more so than other Hollows for hunting their own. That didn't mean she wouldn't kill anyone from either party should they dare face her, but she didn't hold it against them. It was the natural order of the world, and it was pointless to loathe any side for being what they were made to be.

But Aizen…

He was the one who had organized them, who had trained them, who had promised them an end to that ceaseless struggle. And it was Aizen that had betrayed them – betrayed her, personally – and to what end? She had been a pawn to some kind of game, just a piece to be sacrificed, just as she was now sacrificing what future she might have had in Hueco Mundo by submitting to this endless barrage of solitude and weakness, so that Soul Society could protect the world from whatever it was Aizen had been planning.

But that boy…

What was his name? Toushiro Hitsugaya? He hadn't looked at her with the disgust of his people. He didn't look at her with the envy her peers had. He didn't look at her with the hunger - of any kind - that she had been subjected to over the long years of her life. Although, she did have confidence that her body had definitely been fulfilling its intended purpose in its effect on the young boy's thoughts, no matter how well he hid it.

It was thoughts like that which kept her from despairing completely. Maybe when he came back – for he would come back, and she had already decided to play along with his little game, for now at least – she would use it to her advantage. Her looks were just about the last remaining weapon she had anymore. She had a keen intellect, but until she managed to adapt to her new circumstances, she could not rely too heavily on her wits. She had attempted just that in their earlier encounter, and she had made an utter fool of herself.

That would not happen again.

She drifted off to sleep – it was an odd thing, sleep. As an Espada, she had never slept. No Espada slept, but merely remained still and alert when they rested to recover their strength. In a way, it was oddly comforting. In dreams, she could return to the life she once had, at the top of her world. And when she awoke tomorrow, she would have something to look forward to.

She smiled a smile that was downright carnivorous.

This Hitsugaya boy might just be worth playing with…

xxxxx

A/N: After reading through some of the HitsuBel fics on this site, I found too many of them were rushing straight into things with this pairing. I'm not sure where this notion comes from, that Soul Society is somehow an accepting, easygoing place where Espada can simply waltz through once they are leaderless. I don't know about you, but when the Soul Society arc began, it felt like the characters might as well have been playing GTA with five stars – it was like the entire city was out to get them, and it was filled with the occasional captain class Shinigami that could put them down with a thought.

My point is, Soul Society is oppressive, if not towards itself, than definitely towards outsiders. And no matter how much conversion takes place in an Espada, welcoming a former hollow, one of the beings the Gotei 13 was originally formed for the purpose of destroying, is going to take a while. It took weeks for them to accept Ichigo, and he's human to begin with! I just don't see any other means of getting two such enemies together in the aftermath of war unless one of them is the other's prisoner.