Wilted Flower

I want to explore many different feelings with you, Hanatarou-kun. I want to see why you act like a wilted flower.
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Hanatarou gaped in shock as he was held down and kissed by the powerful captain. He didn’t know what to think or how to respond to the mans, seemingly, forward actions. Then his senses and memories kicked in and he couldn’t stop himself from struggling. He felt himself kick and hit the captain above him with all his force as his thoughts ran rampant. This wasn’t right, it could happen again, he wouldn’t be able to stop it…He stilled as he felt the captain press fully down against his body, stopping his struggles, and whimpered timidly as the kiss was broken. He felt himself start to tremble and closed his eyes as he felt the man above him move. He expected a slap for bad behavior but still flinched when all he got was a gentle hand on his cheek and soft, whispered nonsense that was supposed to calm him down.

“Hanatarou-Kun, what is bothering you? You did not react this way the first time.” Hanatarou cringed. Even if the voice was soft the man could still inflict damage and he did not want to anger him. Everyone thought that shy, timid, Hanatarou had not had a life before the Sereitei. That is where they were wrong. He had, had a life.

It wasn’t a good one.

Far from it. His life had been bad. Worse than bad, actually.

Horrible.

Hanatarou had grown up in the 46th district of the Rukongai. Everyone believed that the higher the numbers go, the better the district is. That is not true…well, at least not for the 46th. Without including the 78th and 79th, the 46th was the worse district a person could live in. This was especially true for the small, effeminate, Hanatarou. The 46th wasn’t a slum, far from it actually. The 46th seemed to be a paradise. The was wrong too. The buildings were well maintained, the roads kept clean and the shops well stocked. But that was only skin deep. The 46th had an underground slave market. This slave market was not for the normal slaves, the ones that cleaned houses or cooked meals. No, this was for a special type of slave…

Sex slaves.

The pretty boys and girls of the district did not have a chance against the underground sellers. As soon as they were found, they disappeared. They were not seen again until they were trained, broken, and sold to the highest bidder. Hanatarou was no exception, he was small, delicate with a pretty face and an almost girly voice. He was prime and there was no way they were going to give him up. Hanatarou could remember his “training”. His training consisted of beatings, commands, and rapes. The cycle continued, on and on, until he was properly “trained”…until he was properly broken.

Before Unohana Retsu found him bound, bleeding and almost dead Hanatarou was what most would call a doormat. He couldn’t do anything about his predicament because he had been trained that if he raised a hand to the man above him he would be killed…or worse. He was the perfect slave…obedient…passive…and quiet. Screams were not enjoyed. They were the worse type of disobedience to an owner that could ever be done. A slave was an item, an object and objects did not protest or scream.

It took six months for Hanatarou to even be able say his given name to Captain Unohana. She had saved him from hell but he could not shake the feeling that if he was to do anything to displease her he would be sent back. It was six months after that before she would remove his slave markings. She did not want to hurt him and he understood that. But, if she did not destroy the markings he could be taken back. Any escaped slave could be retained by their owner if their makings are not in someway decimated. His marking was beautiful, a tattoo, a rose inside a square in the middle of his back with the name Rose stylized under the blooming flower. His Captain cried when she drew the blade across his back in an x to cross out the tattoo that marked him as someone else‘s belonging.

It was the best pain he had ever felt.

It was another year and a half before Hanatarou could speak freely to his captain. He still had problems around others, any time someone spoke harshly to him his mind would go back to that place an he would freeze. He could not drop the habit, no matter how hard he tried. The wounds on his back were long healed before he could stand the gentle touch of his captain. It took him years before he could be touched without flinching by the kind women. He still avoids touching as much as he can…for a good reason.

Hanatarou can feel his breathing constrict as the man above him restrained him. He couldn’t stop it, his body was going back on bad habits. He felt himself become passive, non-responsive, as his cheeks whitened from fear.

Byakuya watched as the boy under him slowly changed. He saw the wide blue-gray eyes widen in fear. He then watched as the expression in his eyes changed to resignation and acceptance, then dimmed. That was one picture the stoic captain would never be able to get out of his mind. Hanatarou’s eyes looked dead, empty and he found that he didn’t like that, the normally expressive eyes looked wrong dimmed. He did not like a lot of what was happening before his very eyes. He felt, more than saw, the boy under him become pliant, as unresponsive with his body as with his eyes. He tried to comfort him, he tried everything he knew but he could not get the boy to respond.

Byakuya started to worry. He had not worried about the state of another person, other then this boy, for years and he knew that, right now, something was very wrong with the small shinigami. He tried to comfort the boy by holding him but found that he only withdrew farther every time the captain touched him. Byakuya gently lowered the delicate body back to the bed and moved the ink black hair from the very pale forehead. He looked down into the lifeless eyes and decided he had to do something. Hanatarou could not be left like this, it was not right.
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Less than fifteen minutes later Byakuya was walking through the gate to the fourth division. He had checked on Hanatarou before he had left and had seen no change. This only intensified his worry for the boy so he decided the perfect person to ask about the change was his captain. He had left two of his best guards to watch over Hanatarou and went to the fourth squad as fast as he could. He was informed that the 4th squad captain was in her office by a very scared squad member and nodded before walking away swiftly.

Byakuya walked into his fellow captains office without even announcing his presence and stood before her desk, his emotionless mask in place.

“Is there something I can help you with, Captain Kuchiki?” Byakuya watched as the gentler captain sat before him and tried to pull the worry from his voice before speaking.

“There is something wrong with Yamada, Hanatarou, Captain Unohana. He has become unresponsive to any stimulus.” The sixth division captain startled slightly when the, normally very gentle, captain in front of him stood quickly and grabbed the front of his haori, almost jerking him over the desk between them. He had never been privy to the braided brunettes temper but he had a feeling that was about to change. He watched the blues eyes staring at him spark with fire before the captain still holding him began to speak.

“What did you do to him, Byakuya? He hasn’t become totally unresponsive in years but within one night with you, he does? Explain this to me, Captain. It was something you did and I want to know what.“ He opened his mouth to speak but she didn’t give him a chance to respond before she spoke again. “Don’t lie to me, boy, because I will know, believe that.” Byakuya felt his own eyes widen as he watched the difference occur in the captain before him. She had tightened he grip to where she was almost rending the fabric of his haori and her expression had changed from open and kind to almost feral. He could see now why even the 11th division was frightened of her at times. He actually felt himself swallow before he told he the truth, he didn’t dare even try to fabricate a lie.

“I kissed him.” The 4th division captain startled enough to release her grip on his haori and sit back in her chair. He saw her expression soften from feral to wondering and the usual soft smile curve her lips before she sighed and spoke again.

“It is very nice to hear you have found someone, Captain Kuchiki, but you may have made a very big mistake. I cannot tell you much, that is up to Hanatarou-kun to tell you. But I can tell you that he has barely been touched in many years. He has an aversion to it. I did not how he would react to an intimate touch, but it’s apparently worse than a regular touch.” Byakuya watched as the captain before him rubbed her temples before speaking again. “I have been trying for many years to acclimate him to human touch again and he has been progressing slowly, but progressing, but what you did might have been very bad.” The sixth squad captain found his breath catch at the next words Unohana spoke. He did not know what had happened to Hanatarou but from what the captain had said it could not be good. He knew that what should said could mean that everything he had been hoping for with the small shinigami could be ruined.

“You may have sent him into a total regression, Captain Kuchiki.”
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AN:Plot Progression!! Look at that! I am capable of it! Anyway, this is the second part to my experiment. People liked it a lot more then i thought they would.

unnoo, none of this is true for the charactor in the actual bleach story so, please do not think this is actual background.

So, i described Hana a little bit more, i hope that helps!

Well, i hope you like it! Thanks for reading!