Chastity belt (106)

Time Skip

It's been a week... Byakuya Kuchiki had officially moved in.

Sora wondered what god he had pissed off to have such a huge cockblock in his way.

He felt like he was being punished for his other life—the one where he had murdered 60% of Soul Reapers, killed a bald monk over 100 times before taking his power, and erased the names of all Zanpakutō, effectively getting rid of Shikai and Bankai.

That version of himself was Gary Stu level OP.

Well... Sora felt rather sad for that version of himself.

Sure, he was strong... but he wasn't happy. He was just a husk... a weapon.

Like, sure, that version of himself got more pussy than Sora, who was currently being cockblocked by Kami himself.

While that other version got everything he wanted... heh, he was sure Byakuya wouldn't move into his room, right?

Despite there being fourteen different apartments in this complex—each fully furnished, spacious, and far more suitable for a noble captain—he had deliberately chosen the one apartment with only two rooms.

Sora's apartment.

And he had done so without asking.

This... was blue balling.

If Sora could speak to whoever wrote this script, he would like to feed the man a couple of Sturmregen.

It was as if the universe had conspired against Sora, manifesting its will in the form of a blue-balling Kuchiki.

Every night, as Sora lay on his futon, staring blankly at the ceiling, he heard it—

The calm, collected sounds of Byakuya's breathing from the other room.

The occasional rustling of fabric as the noble adjusted his posture.

The very presence of the walking chastity belt radiating judgment through the thin walls.

It was as if the heavens themselves had placed the walking embodiment of a blue ball around his waist.

For fuck's sake, he wasn't a Diddy disciple. Why the fuck was he being punished like this?

{A/N: For those wondering how the fuck he knows the man is a diddler when he wasn't exposed yet, there were a lot of hints to it back then, and he has the Almighty, so...}

It was maddening.

No privacy. No freedom. No relief. Was it really such a crime if he wanted to pipe his girlfriend?

Though, thinking of it from Byakuya's perspective—ah, yes, no brother would like to hear their sister being piped.

He knew. He wouldn't.

If Sora so much as thought about making a move on Rukia, he could feel Byakuya's spiritual pressure subtly flare, as if daring him to even try.

As if this man had the Protect Sister's Virginity skill fully maxed out.

Sora was convinced—Byakuya could sense horny intent.

And every time Sora felt close to sneaking away, somehow, someway, Byakuya would appear.

Reading a book in the living room.

Sipping tea at the goddamn kitchen counter.

Hell, one time, Sora went to take a shower, only to come out and find Byakuya standing silently in the hallway, staring at him.

Sora had never clutched his towel so tightly in his life.

He did not know the intent behind the man's gaze, and he would rather not have his junk cut off by Shikai... speaking of which, couldn't he just adapt and grow a new dick? One that had adapted to be immune to cutting attacks?

...

...

Okay... so maybe... just maybe... he was too childish for a 16-year-old.

One fine afternoon, as Sora sat at the table, face down against the cool surface, contemplating the absolute suffering that was his life, a knock echoed through the apartment.

Sora sighed, dragging himself up.

He hoped it wasn't Urahara. At this point, he had paid the man more than the man had ever paid him.

"Finally. If it's not Urahara extorting me again, I might actually have some goddamn luck."

He opened the door, and there stood Uryu Ishida.

The Quincy adjusted his glasses, expression neutral. "Sora."

His dear little brother had visited him. Sora felt like the heavens themselves had sent him a grace.

His little brother.

As he prepared himself to squeeze Uryu's cheeks... yes, he knew the boy was like 15.

Who cares?

Uryu felt an odd presence as he stepped into the house.

Not Sora trying to squeeze his cheeks—that he could avoid by having a thin layer of Reishi between his skin and Sora.

No, what he felt was different.

It was a presence.

Cold. Noble. Powerful.

The kind of aura that demanded absolute acknowledgment.

Uryu's eyes snapped toward the source, his fingers twitching slightly as his instincts screamed at him.

Wasn't that the man that almost killed him a few months ago?

What the heck was he doing here?

And there, in the center of the living room, standing with the grace of a king among peasants, was Byakuya Kuchiki.

The noble's eyes met Uryu's, sharp and unreadable.

The room went dead silent.

Neither moved.

Neither spoke.

It was as if an invisible war had begun—Uryu adjusted his glasses.

If he remembered correctly, this was the apartment complex Sora had bought for Rukia.

And this apartment in particular was where Rukia lived.

Byakuya was Rukia's brother and seemed to have moved in.

Meanwhile, Byakuya lifted his teacup, taking a slow, deliberate sip.

Sora, already so done with life, just watched, internally screaming.

Uryu cleared his throat, keeping his composure. "I wasn't aware you were... staying here, Captain Kuchiki."

Byakuya set his cup down without a sound. "I wasn't aware that required your awareness."

'Goddamn,' Sora thought to himself. The captain did not seem to be in a good mood.

"I was under the impression nobles preferred more... refined living arrangements," Uryu added.

Byakuya met his gaze with absolute confidence. "A host's character is what defines the quality of one's stay."

"Did you just call my apartment shitty in a fancy way?!" Sora interjected, catching on to the backhanded insult. He knew it was an insult because this was something he would say.

Byakuya ignored him.

Uryu smirked slightly. "Ah, so it's not about comfort—it's about the company, then?"

Byakuya's eyes didn't waver. "It is about ensuring that certain individuals conduct themselves appropriately."

Sora twitched. He was talking about him.

Uryu was finally able to put two and two together. He had his guess, but now Byakuya had confirmed it.

"I see," he said calmly.

Uryu realized the situation his brother was in... he was practically being cockblocked, having a chastity belt around his waist.

A smile slowly appeared on the boy's lips.

The way he looked at Sora with that goofy smile was annoying, as if he was enjoying every second of this.

"You poor, poor soul," Uryu said, his voice practically dripping with mock sympathy.

"Wipe that smug look off your face, Ishida." Yes, he was calling him by his family name. He could tell Uryu was up to some bullshit.

Uryu let out a small chuckle.

No.

No, he would not.

This was delicious.

Sora was truly suffering.

And for once—it wasn't Uryu.

Byakuya, meanwhile, merely lifted his cup again, unbothered.

Maybe Uryu and Byakuya could be friends, after all.

Byakuya was the only person who had Sora like this.

A/N I hope yall won't mind this blue balling mini arc.

If Kaede was alive, she would 100% help her son hit.

Average conversation between her and Sora.