The Broken Souls of the Seireitei

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long. I have been quite ill, and still not better. Thank you, Orionshadow, for your well wishes. I could read, and I added to my Inuyasha story, but didn't finish all of that chapter or this one, but I have been working on this for about a month. Sigh. There is a pretty graphic rape in this one, and I'm sorry for it. My stomach is churning from what I wrote, and I left off in a fucked up spot, but I gotta keep you all coming back, right? Well, I just coughed up something on my laptop, and that aint too sexy. Try to enjoy this chapter, thanks for all your concerns and well wishes, and I promise to have the rest posted soon. Try not to hate me...

*walks off sheepishly, because running makes me cough harder*

Update: Still fucking sick. This is like week 5...should I give my cold a name?




“I don’t have to justify anything to you. Yumichika just left crying, and I won’t stand this from you.” Zaraki rubbed his brow tiredly, worn out from his former 5th seat’s tirade against him. As soon as they had been dismissed, it seemed Yumichika made a beeline to the 11th division, directly to Zaraki’s office to call him a liar and a cheat, to ask why he had been deceived, and finally to grovel his way back into the division. Of course the answer was no, and Yumi got so upset that he cried all his feathers off and went screaming back to his new division in a black rage. Ikkaku came next, hoping more for answers than for an invite back in. He felt ashamed for teasing Renji when he was transferred to the 6th. So sure was he that he would never be transferred, his cockiness overcame him. And it wasn’t that he didn’t like his new taicho; Having easy access to Shuuhei was great. But he wasn’t Zaraki Kenpachi. Quite far from, actually. Ikkaku didn’t fare well either, his face was bloated with anger, and his head seemed shiner than usual.

Ikkaku spread out his hands. “Did we do something to you? Did I do something to you to make you transfer me? Whatever it is, taicho, I’ll fix it! I promise!”

“I’m not your taicho anymore.”

“Taicho, stop this! You need me here and-”

Zaraki became fed up and slammed his fist on his desk. “Do you really think you’re irreplaceable? Stop groveling, have some pride! Haven’t I taught you anything?” He glowered at Ikkaku, but sighed at seeing the man’s face droop. It wasn’t his fault, they were trained to fight, but not necessarily to lead. He was probably scared shitless.

“Listen, Ikkaku-kun. Do you know what Ichigo’s father did?” Ikkaku shook his head sullenly. “He convinced all three of his children to fight for their freedom. Aizen is a tyrant that must be stopped. I figure if Kurosaki taicho can love and trust his children enough to have them assist in the fight for freedom, I can also at least donate two of my best boys. My favorites,” He surmised, giving Ikkaku an infectious grin. The new fukutaicho seemed eased that this new promotion was not a punishment.

“You believe in me and Yumi that much?” The voice was wondrous and nearly made Zaraki laugh.

“Yes.”

“What about bankai? I mean, I’ve got it, but some of the others don’t.”

Zaraki smirked. “Fuck a bankai. I don’t have that shit, and I’m alright. You of course will train, and if you learn, great. If you don’t, you die. Yumi, Hisagi, and Matsumoto realize that. In fact, and don’t tell Hisagi-san I said this, but you should be the squad 9 taicho. Hisagi only has it because he was doing the job after Tousen left and it would be rather rude to oust him, don’t you think?”

Ikkaku shrugged silently. Shuuhei would have thrown a bitch fit if he had been demoted to serve under Ikkaku. He liked to do his serving on the top, if you know what I mean. Zaraki smiled and got up and walked over to him, placing a strong hand on his shoulder. “If you ever decide you want to be the squad 11 taicho, you know what you have to do and where to find me. And we can always still spar.”

Ikkaku’s face lit up. “And you won’t go easy on me right?” Zaraki shook his head. “Alright! So our challenge still stands? Great, I will train, Hozukimaru will beat you! I promise!” Ikkaku held his fist in the air and ran out of the room screaming. Zaraki shrugged and turned to walk back to finish his paperwork when he felt the familiar reiatsu come back to his door.

“Hey, some of us were gonna go hang at Tsumiyo’s and drink or whatever. Matsumoto taicho will be there,” Ikkaku said in a sing-song voice, making Zaraki smirk at him.

“I can’t. I’ve got paperwork to do.” Ikkaku smirked back. “Too bad, I already told her you’d be there.” Zaraki glared at him as he laughed and did a shunpo step away from the office. A new pang of grief hit Zaraki for losing his two favorites, but he shook the sadness and started to file the paperwork again, grateful for the distraction. And if he hurried, he could join them drinking tonight.
*******************

Hitsugaya looked up with disdain at Ichigo. The orange hair was already irritating him, and he sorely missed his Matsumoto. Both he and Zaraki had been in on recommending their seated officers for ‘the cause’ and he was already having too late second thoughts. Ichigo wasn’t as loud or boisterous as Matsumoto, and it actually irked him. If he didn’t have the ability to sense reiatsu, then he would have never known Ichigo was there.

“You realize you will be staying in squad 10 barracks, correct?” By this time, everyone had known of Ichigo’s taking up with Byakuya, and he would not stand any dribbly love fests when it was time to work. He also wouldn’t allow them to shack up, but knew Byakuya had more class than that anyway.

Ichigo nodded and saluted. “Yes, Toshiro taicho!”

Hitsugaya frowned. “Damnit! I am HITSUGAYA TAICHO!! Say it! SAY IT!!” He screamed, his face turning molten red. Ichigo looked perplexed.

“Uh…H-Hitsugaya…taicho?”

Toshiro sagged. “Fine. Call me Toshiro taicho. But don’t ask me for anything else!”

Ichigo nodded. “Deal. Hey, Toshiro taicho?”

“What?”

“Can I go see Bya-kun?” Ichigo grinned toothily, and it was pretty much sickening.

Toshiro wanted to explode. He put his head down and sighed. “Oi…do me a favor, Kurosaki. Stop by the 4th and tell Isane I need some medicine.”

Ichigo looked concerned. “Are you sick? Do you have a headache?”

Toshiro looked at him up and down slowly. “Yeah. My headache is about 5’10 and weighs about 150 pounds.”

Ichigo smiled. “Hey, I’m 145!” He dodged the rock that was thrown at him and ran off, lest his really piss his taicho off.
******************

Nemu walked silently behind her taicho, hands clasped together tightly. She could tell that he was seething behind his mask, no doubt bruised by Zaraki’s physical punch, as well as Isshin and Byakuya’s verbal punches. She knew he was going to take his frustration out on her, because that was the kind of asshole he was. He was a pathetic bully, mean and spiteful to the core. He cared nothing about anyone but himself and his stupid research. She hated him, oh how she hated him with every grain of her being. Only when he was hurt and on the verge of death did she feel emotion for him, sickeningly close to love. He was her creator, her father, her nemesis, and also unfortunately, her lover. Mayuri would sometimes rape her, sometimes not. The times when he did, it hurt, and he would laugh at her pain. When he didn’t rape her and was indifferent, she would hurt herself, just to feel the familiarity of the pain. There were times when he actually made love to her, but she could count on one hand when those times were. He was almost normal those couple of times, caressing her and murmuring how beautiful she was, much like Uryuu did. But unlike her Quincy beau, Mayuri took her to sexual heights that made her tense and cry for more, and in those precious moments, that was what made her love him. She supposed it was a sullen hope that one day he could be like that always, and that they could just be happy.

Mayuri walked into the squad 12 lab, still not saying anything. Nemu quietly closed the only escape route and followed him to the small bedroom at the back to help him take off his shoes. He stared down at her quivering, frightened body on the floor and smiled sadistically behind his mask. She stood and reached to take the mask off, and he grabbed her wrist and twisted it, finding an almost macabre beauty in the way her face contorted in pain.

“Mayuri-sama! Please, you’re hurting me!” Nemu pleaded, fright already in her voice. Mayuri snatched her and pulled her to him, knowing he snapped her wrist in doing so.

“You are just like all the others. You think I am a fool! You thought I’d let you get away with lying to me about where you were the other night? You were with that Quincy weren’t you? Tell ME!” He roared, flopping the poor girl back in forth. When she didn’t respond, he slapped her hard across the face, making her fall onto the futon. She scrambled to right herself, wincing when she put weight onto her lame hand. Mayuri got on his knees and pulled on her legs to bring her close to him. Her short kimono easily revealed her sex, and Mayuri smiled to himself behind his mask. The little bitch was already wet, her juices glistening in the light.

“Did you let that nasty Quincy play in my pussy? Did he taste you and tell you how sweet you are? Or did he do something more like this?” He took off his gloves and roughly rammed three dry fingers into her, making her scream and buck in pain.

“No…stop it! Stop it!” She screamed, slapping him on the side of the head. He paused. Nemu had never hit him. His eyes narrowed. So she did let the Quincy fuck her. He took his fingers out of her and grabbed her by the throat with one hand, shoving the fingers coated in her juices in her mouth, letting her taste herself, along with some blood, as he had scratched her while being so rough.

Nemu had never known Mayuri to be so violent, even during the times he normally raped her. He did nothing more than simply mount her, cum, and then roll off of her. This time, he was engaging her in dirty speech; calling her names, angrily pulling on her nipples and slapping her around. He was jealous, mainly because he thought she had let Uryuu fuck her.

“Mayuri-sama, please! I didn’t sleep with the Quincy! I-” She was silenced by a fist to the face.

“Shut up! I can still smell him on you! I will wash his disgusting seed away, and then make you drink it!” He wrenched his clothes from himself, also not bothering to lube himself before entering Nemu’s tight passage. Any man with half a brain cell would know that if a woman had recently had sex, then unless the man had a small penis, that she wouldn’t have been nearly as tight as Nemu was. Mayuri also had altered his dick so that it was about 3 inches thick and 11 inches long. Nemu didn’t know much about the male anatomy, but after looking at books and porn magazines Rukia bought from the ryoka world, she knew Mayuri’s altered penis was not the common occurrence. Mayuri paused as he thrusted into Nemu, realizing how tight she was. For a fleeting moment, he figured she was being honest, but then remembered that the ryoka with the large Matsumoto like breasts, Orikimi or something, had healing abilities. He glared at Nemu for lying to him again.

“You lying bitch! You had that ryoka girl heal you! Let’s see if she can heal this!“ He thrust all the way into her to the hilt, laughing as tears ran down her face. She was bleeding profusely, her legs becoming bruised where he had grabbed her. He kept punching and slapping her, making her face swell and bleed also.

“You’re ripping me apart! Please Mayuri-sama! I didn’t do anything,” She sobbed, still trying to get away from him. He pulled out of her bleeding crotch and flipped her over on her stomach. Before she could react, he pulled her up by her hips and slammed into her tight asshole with such force, he could feel that he broke her coccyx. He felt her shudder and felt warmth below him. He grimaced as the urine and blood washed over to his knees. Nemu lay there, her mouth open and her eyes glassed over from the pain. She had a rattling cough in her chest, and she seemed to be gasping for air. Mayuri paid no attention and pounded her until he had his fill, pulling out and walking around her to kneel and slap his bloody, shit covered dick on Nemu’s face before then cumming on it in thick spurts, the semen actually looking pink from all her blood on him. He waited a few moments until after he had finished ejaculating before smiling evil.

“One good turn deserves another,” He said, urinating directly on Nemu’s face. He leaned close to her and smiled, moving a strand of hair from her ruined face. “Now let’s see if your Quincy wants you now,” He whispered before kicking her in the ribs a few times. He looked at her and clicked his tongue in a disappointed way before leaving her there to die.
*******************

“Well, I see Ikkaku is still a filthy liar.”

Zaraki’s pen strayed off of the page upon hearing the familiar voice. He looked up to see Matsumoto leaning against the doorframe, picking her nails. She had adorably altered her new uniform, already taking Aizen’s old jacket in to fit her shape better, her signature pink scarf doing nothing to hide her more than ample bosom. Zaraki swallowed slowly and tried to act uninterested.

“Why is Ikkaku a liar?” He asked, hating that his voice had a weird waver to it. Did she pick up on it? No.

“Well, Pachinko-san said that you were going to come carousing with us tonight, but then again that might be true, as you signed about 10 sheets of paper within the last couple of minutes.”

Zaraki looked shocked. “How long have you been standing there?”

Matsumoto grinned. “Long enough to see you aren’t good at sensing reiatsu,” She teased, walking into the office. Zaraki frowned.

“I can sense reiatsu, but only that of people I have close and constant contact with.” His tone was unintentionally defensive, and Matsumoto’s face softened as she smiled at him.

“Maybe if we had close and constant contact then you could sense me, right?” She sat down on a corner of the huge desk and gave a suggestive shrug of her shoulders, and her mole near her mouth twitched, making Zaraki’s eyes raise.

“So did you come here to accost me, Splendid Matsumoto?” He said, his voice now taking a friendlier tone. She smiled and stood, shaking out her lavender scented hair.

“Not at all. I was headed to the 13th to gather the newly appointed Kuchiki fukutaicho. She is apparently scared to go alone, and wanted my strong arms to carry her pitiful waif frame to Tsumiyo’s, where she will drink approximately two cups of heated sake and pass out.”

Zaraki laughed. He only recently had discovered how funny Matsumoto could be, given the right circumstances. He signed one last piece of paper and gave her a rueful look before stacking the unsigned papers in a neat heap, although Yachiru would probably knock them over in the morning.

“I hate I gave Yumi to you. He was always good with the paperwork,” He said in a mock angry tone, glaring one eye at her.

Matsumoto pretended to write something in her hand. “Yumi…good…with…paperwork. Thanks, Zaraki taicho. That’s one to go in the archives. Now if you are finished wasting my life, come on, lets go.”

“I’ve wasted your life? How?” He asked, standing to walk around the desk.

“Well first, I stood at the door watching you for eons. Then I had to explain myself as to why I was even at your division. Then I had to strip naked for you and let you search me.” She bravely poked at his chest, making him swat her hand away.

“Whoa, you stripped? I missed that…can you do it again?” He flashed beautiful, heart melting teeth at her.

She shook her head. “Can’t. Folks are waiting on us.” She laughed when he pouted. “Come on. The least you can do is let me ride on you,” She said, walking behind him and hopping on his back. She paused when he didn’t move.

“Zaraki-san?”

“Matsumoto-san?”

“Yes?”

“I thought you said you were gonna ride on me.”

‘Pause‘ “I am.”

“You’re on the wrong side.”

Matsumoto scowled. “Today!” She yelled, snapping Zaraki’s eye patch. He ‘ouched’ and took off toward the 13th, both of them wondering why she was getting away with being so annoyingly flirtatious.
*****************

Nemu opened her eyes as far as she could, just narrow slits as they were so swollen and burning. Waves of pain broke upon her, and she opened her mouth to scream, but only a soft gurgle came out. She brought her hand to her face, wincing when her broken wrist flopped painfully back. She had to flick her arm to bring the hand forward, and even though it lightly hit her face, it felt like she had been punched again, and she hissed in pain. Her legs felt rubbery, and her mouth felt full of blood. She thought for a moment, and panicked that Mayuri was there, watching her, coming to rape and beat her again. She made small movements, looking around in the dark and seeing nothing. She concentrated what spiritual energy she had left and sensed no one nearby, which was a blessing and a curse. She knew she needed medical attention, and couldn’t think of where she put the elixir that Taro had given her the other day.

She willed herself to move, lest Mayuri really come back to finish her off. She rolled over onto her stomach, barely able to hold her head up. She remembered she was in the bedroom across from the lab. If she could make it outside, and to the 13th or the 11th divisions, someone, anyone could help her. She didn’t care about protecting Mayuri anymore, and didn’t want to lie about the bruises and the screams coming from their division. Her life was horror, and maybe if someone witnessed, they would save her. Either that, or let her die in peace. Not here, not in this filth. If there was any form of God or King, he would allow her to be saved. She was ashamed for a moment, thinking of Uryuu, but if she died, he would be better off. He was a Quincy; the Seireitei would never have accepted him anyway.

She inched through the bedroom on her stomach and reached the lab, the bright lights making her eyes hurt even more. She reached a desk, with a surgical tray nearby. She could kill herself. That would make sense, to end it all. She reached with trembling fingers up the desk to steady herself on her knees, taking several deep breaths. Once she felt steady, she reached for the tray, but immediately lost balance, strength, and will, and fell over, knocking over the tray with a loud clang. Totally defeated, Nemu lay there and cried, praying for Angels to come and take her away from it all.
*******************

“Hey, do you feel something?” Matsumoto had her slender arms wrapped around Zaraki’s neck as he ran through the 12th division to get to Rukia as soon as possible. They were late, of course, and Kuchiki would bitch, but unless she wanted to walk to Tsumiyo’s, Zaraki planned on telling her to zip it, shut it, stuff it.

“Yeah, I feel a lot,” Zaraki said in a snide tone, shifting his back in a way that made Matsumoto jiggle. She tightened her arms around his neck, making him cough.

“I’m serious, Zaraki-san. Please stop,” She said in a serious tone that made him stop and listen. She climbed down off of him and stood, looking around.

“Matsumoto. I don’t much like being here. You know after today that being anywhere near Kurotsuchi or his cronies is the last thing I want.”

“Shhh,” She said, waving her hand behind her. She cocked her head to the side, walking closer to the lab.

“Are you sure you don’t feel that?” She asked again, making Zaraki frown.

“Are you trying to be funny about me not being good at sensing reiatsu? Of all the things to tease me about, why that?” He asked testily, folding his arms. She turned and scowled at him, walking a few steps closer.

“It’s probably a lab rat or one of his funky creations begging to be fed. Let’s just go,” Zaraki suggested, walking toward the 13th. Matsumoto sighed and turned to walk back to Zaraki.

“Maybe you’re right. We can-” She whirled around after hearing a loud clanging noise.

“Something is in there! We need to go check!” She exclaimed, running over and pulling on his sleeve. “Listen, if I’m wrong, then all your drinks are on me tonight.”

Zaraki looked thoughtful. “All of them?”

“All of them.”

He nodded. “Ok, I’ll wait on you. Yell or something if you need me, or if a spider scares you or something.” He chuckled at her frown and waved as she went into the lab.

“Silly woman, ain’t nothing in there,” He muttered to himself.

“KENPACHI!!! COME QUICK, PLEASE!“ Matsumoto’s scream alarmed him and he ran into the lab, pausing at the door.

“Kami-sama,” He breathed, his eye bugging out at the sight. Nemu lay there, heaving, struggling to breathe as Matsumoto knelt and tried to comfort her and wipe blood and other things from her face. She was a horrible purple bluish color pretty much all over and her face was grotesquely swollen. Honestly, if she hadn’t been breathing so harshly and had been still, she would have looked dead. Like someone beat her to death.

“We have to get her to the 4th! She looks like she’s been-”

“Raped.” Zaraki finished the sentence in a deadpan voice. He went around to Nemu’s other side and gingerly moved a few strands of hair from her face, trying not to gag at the strong smell of urine on her.

“Who did this to you?” His voice was gentle, and it made Matsumoto stare at him.

“Yuri-sama,” Nemu gargled, coughing. Zaraki turned a molten, angry, splotchy red and Matsumoto nearly fainted from his reiatsu spiking so high so fast. Her eyes fluttered for a moment, but she stabilized and looked at her friend compassionately, remembering the sad words she had said on the way back from the ryoka world.

‘I think that Kurotsuchi taicho will beat me upon my arrival.’ She grew angry at the scenario and looked at Zaraki. He already knew and placed one of Nemu’s limp arms around him. Once he lifted her, he heard a sickening splash and saw Matsumoto gag and cover her mouth. When he righted her, several blood clots mixed with semen oozed out of her, some landing on him, some on the floor.

Nemu garbled out what sounded like an apology before weakly crying against Zaraki’s chest. He held her protectively and nodded for Matsumoto to climb up on his back. Once she was settled, he took off running as fast as he could for the 4th, his footsteps urgent as for the first time, he could sense something innately in him, and that something was telling him that Nemu was dying, and he just couldn’t let this sweet, innocent girl die because of an evil sadist.



A/N: More to follow soon. Thanks for all the support and love, I need and appreciate it.