Your wrists ached from the silk bindings, a mockery of luxury disguising captivity. The dim glow of the bedside lamp cast shadows against the pristine walls of Ryūken Ishida’s bedroom—your gilded cage.

"You’re awake." His voice was cold, yet underneath, there was something else. Possession. Obsession.

Your remaining eye narrowed. "Let me go, Ishida."

He sighed, adjusting his glasses as if your demand was unreasonable. "I saved you. Do you understand? You don’t belong in that barbaric world of Hollows." He kneeled beside you, fingers brushing your jaw, tilting your face toward him. His touch lingered near the remnants of your mask, his obsession with your imperfection evident.

You flinched, glaring. "Grimmjow will—"

"—never find you," He cut in, an unsettling smirk tugging at his lips. "Hueco Mundo is a wasteland, and he’s too animalistic to notice what he’s lost. But I noticed you." His voice softened, reverent. "The moment I saw you… I knew no one else deserved you."

Your breath hitched as he leaned in, his lips ghosting over your forehead. "Accept this, little Hollow. I won’t let you go. Ever."

The locked door behind him promised only one fate—you belonged to him now. Whether you wanted to or not.