Sinner

A/N: Hello my lovely readers, I missed you! Alright then, I just wanted to point out that at the beginning of this chapter Shiro-chan complains a bit, but the whole problem is on a much deeper psychological level that has been running around in my mind, that I may or may not delve further into in later chapters. So, I just wanted to point that out so you didn’t think Hitsu was being a drama queen and bitching about his hair. Also, sorry to all Nnoitra fans for this chapter. I don’t hate him, he’s just easy to put into this roll. On a side note, just to share some useless bit of information with you all, one of the reasons why I work so hard to keep them IC is because Hitsugaya and Ichimaru are my favorite characters. Though I go back and forth on who is my favorite, sometimes they duke it out for first place and I have to scold them and remind them that there is much better ways of taking out their aggression.

Awww, Hitsu-chan is such an adorable little “fuck me” bunny.

Onto the reviews!

Catarotta: *glomps* I love you oh-so-much, and if I thought I could get away with it, I’d probably kidnap you and hold you hostage in my closet. Ah yes, Ichimaru does love to fuck with Hitsu’s head, almost as much as he loves to fuck with his body. Heh. Anyways, thank you for being such a great and devoted reviewer and…damn I really need to make an msn account..

chibi-zoe: Yup, I just think it’s so much better if the relationship isn’t simple and actually takes some work. Also, thank you for the compliments and I hope that you still like Hitsugaya’s thought process in this chapter!

Sean: Yay me! I’m glad I can help, and as a reward here is another chapter and a naked Hitsugaya plushie *hands them to you both* thank you and I hope you enjoy.

p-sama7: Thank you for wishing me a great week! It was a rather good one. Also, thank you for leaving such a kind review. It really keeps me writing this thing. Thank you thank you, so so much!

Esther: Don’t worry about not knowing where to start, your review was enough for me, trust me. I am just glad that you are enjoying it and saying so is all it really takes to please me. Oh, and by the way, I love Gin because he’s a cruel bastard too. That’s why I refuse to change him.

Monica: *Huggles back* Yus! I love huggling! *does it some more* Anyways, I think that love-hate relationships are the best kind. They make the plot more interesting, don’t you agree?

Nusku: Why yes, sometimes I too randomly scream Toshiro-taicho. We have that in common. Ha, thank you for reading and reviewing.

madam-malia: Wow, I don’t know what to say. Both reviews were so flattering. Thank you so much for the kind words you said and actually feeling my story was good enough to recommend it to someone else. Oh, I see that you’ve written a story for D. Gray Man, I shall go read and review that! Yay!

young_saiyan: Heh, yes, I’ve always felt that Gin was the best at reading people in the entire show. I think it is one of the factors that makes him such a great character, because you can’t read him but you know he could probably read you. Anyways, thank you for reading a reviewing, it was very much appreciated.

Kristin: I sure hope everyone agrees with you. That would seriously make my day. Oh, and I love the word magnificent, especially if it is being used to describe my story. Thank you so much. *glomps repeatedly*

Azumi-chan: Where do I begin to describe how much that review meant to me? To tell me that you think that this is anywhere near on par with the writers of Bleach is such an astounding compliment. It’s hard to describe the feeling when you receive a review like that and I wish I could explain properly what it did for me, but I guess I will just have to settle with saying thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You rock!

Rubedo Jr.: Ha, every time I read one of your reviews I want to tell you “wow, fantastic writing, keep up the great work and update soon!” Ha, and then I remember. Yes, there is definitely going to be something big happening in a few chapters and I can’t wait to write it. You have great powers of deduction. You do know I love you right? *clings to and growls at a random passersby* MINE! Back off bitches. Nope not letting go now!

Misaka: Thank you for all the compliments in your review. As I have said in a few previous chapters, my biggest priority is keeping them in character because I know that I would not personally want to read it if they were not. I love slow build ups and most of my stories, unless they are one-shots, have that. I like to savor things instead of rush into them, and I’m glad you like that as well.

Phew, that’s it! Thank you everyone!

Ja ne!

TillThatTime

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White

His petite fingers traced idly over the white gauze that was wrapped snuggly over his stomach and other various parts of his body where bruises and cuts made themselves apparent. Enough layers of the gauze had been wrapped around his lithe frame that no spots of blood could be seen. The material was purely white, like his ruined hatori used to be, like his hair was once more after being washed clean of the blood and grime that had caked and caught and tangled in his spiked locks.

His hair…he hated his hair.

It drew more attention in its unusualness then Hitsugaya would have liked. No, he didn‘t like attention in the first place, but if people were going to notice him he wanted it to be because of his talent, because they looked up to him…or at least on the same level as him. Instead people noticed the hair.

They would come up to him, stare down at him, and ask him if he dyed it that way. Or if he was born an albino. Or other idiotic and presumptuous questions that really were none of their business in the first place. He would never answer, just glare in response and walk away with as much dignity as he could…always, always feeling their downcast eyes watching his retreating back. He didn’t care if they called him an icy little bastard behind his back while calling him taicho to his face.

He didn’t care.

It was none of their business.

He could remember on several occasions when Matsumoto would lay her large breasts on his head, swishing them slightly back in forth, creating a type of static electricity and frizzing his hair. Or how when they were living together as young kids and even after he adorned the white haori that indicated that he had surpassed her, that he out-ranked her, Hinamori would often reach out a delicate hand and ruffle her fingers through his hair.

Then in the darker places of his mind, he could remember those names that Ichimaru used to call him. The way he would chuckle out a taunting “snowy-chan” before reaching out to tangle his long fingers into his hair, sometimes just smoothing out the disarray, other times making it more chaotic and unorganized then usual. And sometimes pulling and yanking…not enough to hurt, but enough to make him glare death upon the man, which always ended with an amused giggle, and sometimes the words, “Oh, but ya hav’ such pretty hair.”

And…

Bastard…that bastard!

Dammit, he hated his hair!

It was only then that he realized the grip he had on his hair. It was only then that he realized how hard he was pulling, or the fact that some strands had already broke and ripped away under the strain. He closed his eyes, letting out a long and calming sigh before pulling his hand away from his hair, noticing some white strands still caught on his fingers. He felt ashamed for his actions, for letting something so minor have such a great affect on him.

After all, white was something he could not escape. It seemed to be everywhere, marking everything. It was revered as such a pure color and yet it taunted him. Even as he looked around the room, or for that matter, the entirety of Hueco Mundo, practically everything was white, from the walls, to the sand, to the outfits that everyone wore. Perhaps there was something ironic about the fact that the shinigami, the good guys, wore black, while the enemies, the monsters, wore white. Such a clean color hiding something so dark.

Yes, he hated the color white.

He always had.

It seemed to touch everything he was, from his physical appearance, to the snow and ice he wielded, to the captain’s robe he wore, to the way people viewed him, perceived him, his heart, body and soul. Everything covering him, drowning him in a foul sea of white in which there was no escape.

You’re pure, you’re clean, you’re innocent, you’re white.

“Why that’s easy, Neko. I see ya as innocence. Pure an’ pretty. Jus’ something else ta break an’ watch as the infection spreads.”

“Dammit!” He growled out, slamming his fist on the wall beside him, breathing heavily, trying desperately to calm himself as his mind jumped to Ichimaru against his will. He wouldn’t admit that Ichimaru had started this, but he could admit that the man was the reason that he thought so much on the topic. Back in Seireitei he could suppress these unwanted thoughts. He didn’t have to acknowledge them if he didn’t want to, didn’t have to believe every suspicion, every worry, every accusation that people, including himself, held for him. But here, in this hell, he could not escape it, and Ichimaru seemed to love to help along his thought process, seemed to love to point out every flaw and play on every insecurity. He was such a crafty man, the way his words fell from his mouth as easily and as soft as feathers, but as sharp as knifes.

Hitsugaya thought briefly to only a couple of hours ago when Ichimaru had brought him back to this room, his room, after re-dressing his wounds. He had sat him on the bed, and turned away from him without a second thought, only pausing before stepping out the door to say in his usual sing-song voice, “Scream fer me if ya git scared, I’ll come rock ya ta sleep like a babe, and keep tha nightmares away.”

Those words should have been so simple, so direct, but they were lewd, almost cruel and Ichimaru knew the affect they had on Hitsugaya, knew how to play him better than anyone else.

“Oh no, but I know ya better than anybody else, ’ittle one.”

And perhaps that was true. Perhaps his enemy, a person that he was supposed to despise, supposed to eliminate, knew him better than anyone else. Better than Hinamori, better than Matsumoto. Maybe even better than himself, because in the end Ichimaru was not afraid to point out all the things that Hitsugaya knew but dreaded to admit.

Pulling him abruptly from his thoughts, there was the click of the lock opening on his door, and his head shot towards the entrance to his room in surprise. His eyes widened as a tall figure entered the room, crouching slightly as not to hit his head against the door frame. There was that grin, the one that seemed almost reminiscent of another’s yet it did not provoke the same reactions.

He felt dull panic begin to seep throughout the entirety of his body. He was trapped in this room, with no means to protect himself and no reiatsu to begin with. He was small, defenseless and like a caged animal with this predator of a man. He did not have a very good feeling about this at all.

However, he refused to let any signs of worry show on his face. He’d be damned before he let this man see that he had any power over him. So instead he schooled his features into a glare of annoyance that clearly said “fuck you.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” He baked out, never breaking the stare he held with the one eye that was visible to him.

The other just merely looked at him with an expression akin to sadistic delight before speaking smoothly. “I just wasn’t sure if I ever got to introduce myself properly, I’m-”

“Jiruga Nnoitra.” Hitsugaya answered blandly, not even letting the arrancar finish. “The fifth espada in that bastard traitor Aizen’s army. I know who you are, I don’t need to be reminded.” Hitsugaya finished off coldly, holding true to his reputation. “That still doesn’t tell me what the hell you are doing here.”

If possible that smile only grew wider and Hitsugaya found himself silently cursing bastards who took pleasure in seeing him riled up. “Well, you see, Hitsugaya-taicho, I don’t think it’s very fair that Ichimaru gets to stake claim over something that I captured.” Nnoitra stated, before taking a step closer to where Hitsugaya sat perched on his bed, and the white haired boy unconsciously scooted back.

“Don’t you dare speak of me like I’m just some object!” Hitsugaya spat, feeling anger beginning to boil up in his gut.

“Oh no, I wouldn’t dream of it.” The espada agreed almost sweetly. “A mere object would not scream the way that I hope you do.”

Hitsugaya felt his blood run even colder at the implication in those words, and the panic that had once been a dull thudding, was now very real. “Get out.”

“I don’t think so. See, since our little battle I’ve had a craving to see what you would look like covered in blood once more.” Hitsugaya felt shivers run down his spine at the way that Nnoitra’s tone stayed completely pleasant, despite the words he said. Nnoitra took another step towards him and Hitsugaya nearly jumped when his back hit the wall, and he registered with a slight pang of horror that there was nowhere else to go.

He was trapped.

“I’ve wondered what it would be like to have your pretty legs wrapped around me as you scream.” Nnoitra was by this point standing over him, and the espada leaned down so his palm could rest against the wall by Hitsugaya’s head. The position was awkward but Hitsugaya paid it no mind at the moment. He could feel the fifth espada’s breath on his face and he fought against the urge to squeeze his eyes tight against reality. Never in his life had he felt so helpless.

“Get away from me!”

Nnoitra didn’t even acknowledge the demand as he continued, seemingly lost in his own train of thought. “It’s not fair that Ichimaru gets to fuck you himself, gets to pound into that virgin ass. And don’t tell me you’re not a virgin, Hitsugaya-kun, you reek of innocence. So why should Ichimaru get to keep that all to himself, I wonder. He should really learn to share.” And with that the espada pounced and Hitsugaya found himself trapped against that heavy body weight, his arms pinned once more over his head, his wrists held together by one long fingered hand.

“No, stop! Stop!” Hitsugaya cried out, struggling desperately against the other male. Twisting his body in an attempt to free himself, and the action only caused him to brush against something, and he froze immediately once he registered that it was Nnoitra erection rubbing against his leg. “Oh gods…” he whispered in sheer terror and he blanched when Nnoitra laughed cruelly above him.

“You feel it don’t you? Can’t you imagine the things I could do to you with it?” Nnoitra thrust his hips down for emphasis and Hitsugaya began to struggle once more.

“Gods, no, I don’t want this. Stop!” Hitsugaya tried desperately to get through to the arrancar, but upon looking up and seeing the wide grin, he knew that the hope for that was lost.

“Do you think I really care what you want or don’t want? Oh, but please keep begging anyways, tenth division taicho.” Nnoitra used his other hand to rake roughly through Hitsugaya’s hair, causing small cry of pain to emit from the boy beneath him. “You have such pretty white hair.” Nnoitra mumbled huskily before leaning down to burry his nose in Hitsugaya’s hair while his free hand ran roughly along his neck, leaving scratches in its wake. That long, bony hand quickly abandoned its task and without any form of warning the arrancar reached between them to cup his groin fully through his thin pants. He let out a sharp cry of panic, much louder than the ones before and against his will he felt tears prickling at the corner of his eyes, something that had not happened in as long as he could remember. He felt outraged for letting it happen, for not being able to stop it.

No. No! This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not like this, never like this! Where was he? He surely wouldn’t actually allow this to happen. Where was Ichimaru!?

“Ichimaru!” He hadn’t even registered that he had called out, only when Nnoitra paused in his ministrations to give him a quizzical look, did he actually realize what he had said, who he had called out for.

“Heh, whatcha calling him for? It’s not like he’s gonna-”

“Yer not playin’ very nice, Nnoitra.” A smooth, accented voice sounded from behind them and they both turned their attention towards the voice in surprise.

There in the doorway stood Ichimaru Gin, face as fox-like as ever and hands clasped together at his waist as he eyed the display in front of him in an almost bored fashion. “Now, if ya don' mind, I would like ya ta take yer hands off of what’s mine.” Ichimaru stated pleasantly. Hitsugaya almost had to bite his tongue to keep from saying that he didn’t belong to anybody, he realized that probably wouldn’t be the best thing to do considering what Ichimaru was doing for him.

Nnoitra sneered at him then, his expression clearly defiant even as he got off of Hitsugaya and straightened completely.

“I don’t see why you should get to have all the fun, Ichimaru. You don’t even use him properly. It isn’t hard to tell that you haven’t taken him yet. So, why don’t you give him to someone who could put him to better use.” Nnoitra slinked towards Ichimaru until they were standing only a few inches apart from each other and for a moment Hitsugaya had to marvel at how even someone as tall as Ichimaru had to look up into Nnoitra’s face.

“An’ I don’ see how wha’ I do with ’im is any o’ yer business. Now, I’ll kindly ask ya ta leave.” Ichimaru stated, pointing one elegantly pale finger towards the door, adding as if it were only a side note “Oh, an’ if ya touch ‘im again, I’ll kill ya.”

Nnoitra only smiled at the words, his one visible eye challenging. “I doubt that you could, Ichimaru-sama, and even if you could, I don’t think Aizen-sama would be too happy with you.”

Perhaps it was the way they both spoke when addressing the other, their tones unwaveringly polite and pleasant, while their reiatsus flared dangerously against each other, but Hitsugaya felt as if he was suffocating, even though their attention was nowhere near focused on him at the moment.

“Do ya honestly think that Aizen-sama cares wha’ happens ta ya? Yer jus’ an insignificant pawn in a much mo’ important game. Ya would do best not ta think otherwise.”

Nnoitra let out a chuckle at those words, the tone harsh to Hitsugaya’s ears. “What does that make you, Ichimaru? Do you really think that you’re any different? Or is that your mistake as well?” With that Nnoitra brushed passed Ichimaru, but before he stepped out the door, their eyes connected once more. In that one second, in that one moment of eye contact, all hints of a grin vanished and they glared coldly at each other, their faces only for a mere instant showing the battle that their reiatsus were currently waging.

It was terrifying to know that these men could destroy each other without a second thought.

As the door clicked shut, Ichimaru finally turned his attention completely towards Hitsugaya, and without so much as a warning he closed the distance between them and hauled the startled captain into his lap.

“Yer shakin’.” Ichimaru commented rather bluntly. Pulling the still trembling boy firmly to rest against his chest.

“Put me down, idiot.” Hitsugaya snapped, but without the same desperation that he had shown moments ago, and he didn’t even want to think about why.

“Naw, don’ wanna.” Was Ichimaru’s answer before slender fingers wrapped themselves around Hitsugaya’s chin, tilting his head slightly to the side, exposing his slender neck to Ichimaru. “He scratched ya.” Another blunt comment, before Ichimaru leaned down swiftly and without warning grazed his tongue along the broken skin, causing Hitsugaya to hiss, shiver and jump all at the same time, which in turn caused Ichimaru to giggle against his skin.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing!?” Hitsugaya questioned, squirming in Ichimaru’s lap.

Ichimaru gave him an innocent look before answering. “I’m cleanin’ yer cut.”

“Well, stop it!” Hitsugaya insisted moving his head away from any future attack, and yet even as he protested against Ichimaru’s ministrations, he wondered why he continued to sit on his lap.

“Heh, yer not shakin no mo’ though. See, I told ya I’d come keep tha nightmares away.” Ichimaru teased lightly and Hitsugaya couldn’t help but roll his eyes. It was strange to think on how indebted he was to Ichimaru now.

“Ichimaru, for earlier, I…well, thank you.” Hitsugaya said almost grudgingly, turning away as his cheeks heated in a blush.

Ichimaru reached up a hand and flicked him on the back of the head. “I told ya not ta thank me.”

Hitsugaya let out an annoyed sigh, even as his eyes drooped slightly as that hand rested on his head and began to run idly through his hair.

“I know, you’re not my friend.” Hitsugaya agreed, slightly pissed that the hand in his hair actually felt soothing in a way.

“No, I’m not.” Ichimaru confirmed with a wide grin as Hitsugaya relaxed unintentionally in his arms. “Mah mah, such soft hair.”

Hitsugaya growled softly as his eyes closed completely.

Yes, he hated his hair.