_debbiechan_ (_debbiechan_) wrote in bleachness,

Nemu's Lie, one-shot, hard R/NC17, Akon/Nemu

"Nemu's Lie"

Description: Hard R/NC17 Akon/Nemu, references to Ishida and Mayuri. Is Akon really a scientist like his idol Captain Kurotsuchi?

Warnings: Explicit references to sex, some twelfth division creepiness.

Written for kendraxplague  at  bleach_flashfic .  She requested this pairing within any genre, no PWPs, some backstory, and a maximum rating of NC17 in the Bleach manga-verse.

and here it is.

Nemu's Lie
by debbiechan

Disclaimer: I don’t have anywhere near the imagination it would take to come up with the characters in the 12th division; Kubo Tite invented Akon and Nemu.

Description: Hard R/NC 17  Akon/Nemu, references to Ishida and Mayuri. Is Akon really a scientist like his idol Captain Kurotsuchi?

Warnings: Explicit references to sex, some twelfth division creepiness.

Written for kendraxplague at bleach_flashfic. She requested this pairing within any genre, no PWPs, some backstory, and a maximum rating of NC17 in the Bleach manga-verse.

 “Science has not yet taught us if madness is or is not the sublimity of the intelligence.”
~ Edgar Allan Poe

He could make her come, but he couldn’t make her care.

Not that he wanted her to develop human-like, old soul affection for him, but she seemed to be developing that for Captain Kurotsuchi. It wasn’t fair; Akon had designed many of the particulars in Nemu’s sensory systems. Akon had chosen her facial structure and hair growth patterns. Akon had come up with the idea to use thermography to measure her sexual arousal, battle readiness, and flickers of emotion. She was, in a way, a part of him--the fruit of his intelligence if not the replica of his genes.

Captain Kurotsuchi got the credit for building her. Nemu shared his blood and genotype. The captain and Nemu spent all that time together as research partners and representatives of the twelfth division. And now, recent brain scans as well as Akon’s own observations showed that Nemu’s attachment to the captain was developing at an unforeseen rate.

One could even say that Nemu loved Kurotsuchi.

So unfair. Why no attention from the lovely vice-captain? The captain had only wanted a loyal officer and a devoted daughter. Akon was the one who had sex with the girl on a regular basis and treated her with care. Captain Kurotsuchi disliked her, struck her, and called her stupid. Maybe the captain had also engaged in sexual relations with Nemu, but Akon had no record of this in her log. The captain was given to raping his experiments now and then--particularly young, pretty ones. The real criterion, though, for the captain’s sexual interest was the willingness of a subject to scream and fight instead of subjecting to fate, and Nemu, Akon knew, was a passive partner. The captain, in the end, was only interested in science, not physical gratification or the pleasures of companionship.

The brain activity indicating romantic attachment had appeared the same week that Nemu's first orgasms had.  Akon suspected this correlation meant that the captain, not he, was the cause of her orgasms, but he had no empirical way of proving that.

Akon was a scientist too. Science drove all Akon’s waking actions and sometimes sleeping ones (the best ideas came from dreams). He wasn’t an errand boy like so many in the twelfth division; he had status.  He supervised a phenotype development team. He manipulated cell growth at the micro-level and grew body parts in jars at the macro-level. Akon’s first great contribution had been to Nemu’s design, and now his relationship to her was one of a quality checker--not exciting at all--except for the fact that Nemu herself was a very attractive being.

Akon enjoyed having sex with Nemu. Nothing wrong with that, he told himself. No, he wasn’t getting too attached.

He did believe, however, that he would be a better mentor for her than Kurotsuchi.

“Good afternoon Akon-san.” The black-haired beauty entered operating room eight, sat on the operating table and began to untie her obi.

“There you are, my dear. I’m glad to see you looking well after your encounter with the ryoka.”

Akon was not engaging in sex with Nemu because he wanted to, persay, but because her maintenance calendar required him to. At first, Akon saw Nemu for monthly check-ups, but when her caudate and septum areas of her pre-frontal cortex showed increased activity, the captain agreed to letting Akon see her once a week. Maybe Akon should request more frequent examinations? He didn’t want to miss any more unusual brain patterns.

“I regret missing my appointment earlier." Nemu slipped off her division badge and gloves. “My injuries were more serious than expected, and the fourth division surgical superintendent insisted on my staying another hour for observation.”

“No worries, my dear.” Akon opened his box of forceps, thermostats, and assorted diagnostic tools. “We’ll also be having an investigation-by-interview today. Seems that the encounter with the ryoka was quite eventful. General Yamamoto himself expressed interest in your testimony.”

Nemu unwrapped her uniform. She wore no undergarment, and her vulva was hairless and pale. She kept sandals and socks on for all examinations.

“The captain wants to see you immediately after this inspection.” Akon searched Nemu’s eyes for a glimmer of anticipation. Subjective observations of her love for Kurotsuchi were typed into reports. “I imagine he’s going to do his own interrogation after mine.”

“I understand,” she said.

Affect: the usual,
Akon typed into his handheld data book. The “usual” meant no affect at all.

These examinations, like so many things performed within the twelfth division building, were, ultimately, pointless. Akon knew that.

The captain had once expressed interest in teaching Nemu the ways of seduction, in case he would need her to manipulate or deceive opponents, but he was disgusted with Nemu lately and didn’t see much hope in educating her further about anything. Her fighting ability was no longer state-of-the-art and surpassing that of all other vice captains and she appeared to be growing emotions, of all things. Emotions made for less predictable responses to stimuli, less reliable following of orders.

Most likely Captain Kurotsuchi would build a new model “daughter” soon.

“What sort of injuries did you incur in the battle, Nemu?”

“A broken ribcage, punctured lung, one insignificant abrasion across the back of the torso.”

Akon frowned. “I know the fourth division takes care of tissue wounds thoroughly but broken skeletal tissue leaves that telltale ring. We may have to replace your ribs.” He pinched Nemu’s skin judiciously around the rib area, even if there was no need. “If I schedule for surgery tomorrow, the captain won’t even have to know you were damaged. The reconstruction itself would be undetectable.”

Again, Akon eyed her. Any sign of appreciation? Any reluctance to keep information from the captain?

“Unless Mayuri-sama requires my assistance in the early morning,” Nemu said, “I will be available for surgery.” Her white skin was starting to goosepimple in the room’s cool air.

“Let’s take the preliminary scans,” Akon said. “Meanwhile you can give me an overview of what happened when the captain fought the ryoka.”

A cylindrical light approximately the same dimensions as Nemu’s body lowered from the ceiling, stopped about twenty centimeters from her face, and began its silent imaging process.

Nemu’s information correlated with the rumors Akon had heard about the twelfth division encounter with a powerful opponent. Kurotsuchi himself hadn’t said much. The captain had entered his laboratory through a crack in the front door and presented his green slimey self to Akon and other workers with the disembodied words, “I’ll be in refrigeration in my lab. No one bother me.” As he poured across the floor, he had added, as an afterthought, “Several squad members were incinerated so don’t expect anyone to return but Nemu.” The captain’s liquid persona was quite the marvel to behold. Everyone knew of this incarnation level of the captain’s--it was one of Kurotsuchi’s most recent and lauded techniques--and Akon was amazed that a Shinigami Captain had been forced to use it.

“The ryoka was very strong, yes?” Akon typed as Nemu lay there. “Will you describe him for me?”

The young man Nemu described was at odds with the blood-soaked ryoka that others had seen being carried to the fourth division building. That ryoka wore black hakama. He was a skinny unconscious boy. Nemu told about a hard-faced, white-clothed warrior who was fearless and skilled. She said he absorbed spirit particles through his back. “The reishi poured into him,” she said. “It looked like he was wearing a white wing of shining spirit.”

Her exact words were being recorded; what Akon typed were his own observations. Rare usage of simile. Accurate in context.

Then a glance at the monitor caught something unusual.

Will you look at that?
A surge of electroneurological activity in Nemu’s brain. The same patterns that had been observed for weeks now--and an even higher activity in the vasopressin receptors critical for emotional attachment.

Fascinatingly, though, these responses had not occurred at the mention of Mayuri Kurotsuchi.

Maybe she wasn’t in love with the captain at all; maybe she was becoming more human-like and her attachment responses were growing stronger in general?

Reflexively, Akon smiled at her. When she stared at him with no expression, he dropped the smile and got serious about work again.

He baited her interest with talk about the captain, how unflustered Kurotsuchi appeared to be in the current disarray of Soul Society. “He’s a true scientist,” Akon said. “Single-minded in his devotion to the pursuit of knowledge. The politics of today’s situation has no bearing on the twelfth division operations.”

According to the monitor, Nemu’s interest plummeted.

Akon returned to the subject of the battle; Nemu described the release of the golden Ashisogi Jizōu and the ryoka taking out the captain’s ban kai with one arrow.

“The same arrow incapacitated Mayuri-sama,” she said, “and forced him to transform.”

Akon startled, almost dropping his hand computer.

“You were left alone with this Quincy monster?” Even though she was lying before him, whole and well, the thought of her vulnerability to a foe bothered Akon.

“After Mayuri-sama escaped, the Quincy was showing effects of the poison.”

Nemu’s interest rose. Her pre-frontal cortex heated up.

“He searched my person and in doing so, found the antidote that I am required by council to carry into all battle situations.”

Akon knew of the rule; the council didn’t want innocent bystanders being stricken by the captain’s ban kai. Bystanders, always worrying about innocent bystanders. The council would rather save lives than gather data--a code at odds with the standards of the twelfth division.

“Then the Quincy left,” Nemu said. “I could see that he had sustained injuries but given his recent battle performance, I expect him to be a formidable opponent still.” She paused but continued in an affect-less voice. “Do you know if he’s alive?”

Nemu’s brain lit up again, and her endorphin levels were running amuck.

“I have no idea,” Akon lied. This was troubling indeed. Had Nemu switched her love for her father onto a random person? He tried to keep his voice temperate and professional.

“What did he do to you besides search your clothes? Probe body cavities?” Akon suspected a sexual connection between the Quincy and Nemu--all signs were pointing that way. She was emotionally stirred by memories of him, and she never inquired after anyone’s well being other than the captain’s. “How did he know you would be carrying an antidote? Did he find it by accident?”

Nemu answered Akon’s rush of questions in sequence. “He searched only my clothes for pockets and hiding places. No, he did not probe body cavities. I do not know how he knew about the antidote, but he found it and drank it right away.”

Agitated by the new data and by something else he could not name, Akon stared for a long time at the monitor, trying to absorb all the data all at once.

Then he saw it.

She was lying.

This was unprecedented. Akon didn’t know why she was lying. Instructions from the captain? A malfunction in her programming? She couldn’t be trying to protect the enemy, could she? Even if she’d found the enemy to be sexually stimulating?

Without being asked, Nemu offered another observation. “I was very happy that Mayuri-sama was not killed. The Quincy seemed capable of killing him.”


She had never admired anyone beyond the captain, and Akon felt choked with resentment. He was about to write: a fascination with the prowess of warriors.  But he stopped himself. There was no need to give the captain any clues about his top technician’s all-too-natural attraction to Nemu. Akon knew well about recording subjective data. Anything expressed in a moment of intense emotion would carry suggestions of that emotion, no matter how far from any feeling the actual words seem to be.

The words a fascination with the prowess of warriors fairly dripped with jealousy.

I cannot allow myself to continue with these emotional responses to Nemu; the captain eventually knows everything. He would suspect and confirm  … an attachment.

In the worse case scenario, Akon would be demoted for unprofessionalism and Nemu destroyed on a whim. Then again, maybe the captain could be scientifically curious about the emotional relationship between the tester and the tested. The former could be a good thing, allowing Akon more time with Nemu, or a bad thing, given the deadly consequences of many of Kurotsuchi’s experiments.

Natural, my attraction to her is only natural.

Akon told himself that, at the mention or memory of Nemu, his own brain scans would show activity similar to that of the pretty vice-captain’s when she described the young Quincy warrior. Natural erotic responses were not necessarily predictive of any sort of subsequent behavior. Nemu had not instigated sex with the Quincy, had she? Akon himself could continue to lust, feel protective towards and possessive of Nemu--all in secret.

“Enough of the interview.” Akon stood up and walked to a small switchboard. “It’s time for the standard response test.”

Kurotsuchi had designed the machine long ago for gathering data from Quincy subjects. It measured an array of physical responses to artificially induced stimuli such as pain, pleasure, anticipation of reward, anticipation of death. The machine was primitive compared to more recent sensory equipment designed by the captain, but it served for basic overviews of test subjects.

Nemu usually got the basic overview and then some.

“Will secondary tests be performed today?” Nemu lay on the table with her hands to her sides.

Curious about level two testing,
Akon typed. Appears to show no unease or anticipation. He rubbed one of his forehead horns between his fingers. Akon was certainly looking forward to level two testing.

Not counting the fact that Nemu was made entirely of artificial spirit and body, Captain Kurotsuchi was the most body-modified member of the twelfth division and Akon was second. Most of the captain’s staff had been experimented on, but their modifications were minor, usually not visible to the naked eye--or if they were, they showed as failed experiments that had required amputations. Akon’s body modifications were task-specific and sophisticated.

He had been the twelfth division’s very first Shinigami sensory stimulator and response detector. Once he had proved himself a master of torturing subjects for data, Kurotsuchi assigned him to research and development. The captain had then wanted to transplant Akon’s three detection horns onto a lower-ranked subordinate, but Akon convinced him that recording data, while simple work, could not be entrusted to anyone but an experienced technician like himself. The captain agreed, saying he didn’t want to repeat a surgical feat he’d already performed once.

So Akon, now a body-part creator, continued with his job as a stimuli and response machine. On special subjects only, of course.

And Nemu was a very special subject.

After initial tests were done, and Nemu had responded predictably and well to a variety of shocks to different areas of the brain, Akon removed all his laboratory clothes.

“Excellent motor responses,” he said as praise that Nemu never acknowledged. “You certainly must be the most limber member of the division.” Naked, he joined his subject on the operating table.

“And now the fun part,” he said without irony. “Initiating natural environmental stimuli testing, level two.”

Machines recorded those words as well as taking images of the following tests. Akon was going to test his subject’s responses to unpredictable, physical stimuli--not mere electrical brain stimuli as before. What distinguished the tester for the tested in this case was that Akon did not have tracking receptors implanted in his skull. His responses to stimuli were not recorded.

He prided himself on being a creative torturer.

“Are you comfortable, my dear?” Akon held a spine-covered stick the size of a straw and inserted it into Nemu’s ear. He never used the same tools twice to test pain responses.

“No reaction,” Akon spoke to the recorder. He parted Nemu’s legs and inserted the tool in other orifices.

Because Nemu could easily overpower every one of the twelfth division technicians, experiments required Nemu’s full participation but were not limited to low-range stimuli. She never blinked an eye during any of them. Akon hit her head with a spiny bat. Akon twisted her arm in an attempt to twist it off.  Nine times out of ten she didn’t tear, bleed, or break. The captain was the only one whose personal strength was enough to inflict damage on her.

After the violent stimuli, Akon was left breathing heavily and rubbing his shoulders, hands and other parts of himself that had come into contact with Nemu’s silky-steel skin. He put his torture instruments away and took old-fashioned assessments of Nemu’s pulse and body temperature. The torture instruments had their own disposal box; They had to be replaced next week; Nemu damaged them without even trying to damage them.

Even before the thermometer was out of her mouth, stimulation turned to pre-coital gestures such as the fondling of breasts and stimulation of the genitals, Nemu, as she had since her creation, showed absolutely no initial response. She lay there as indifferent as she had through Akon’s tortures.

Akon pressed his stiff arousal against her belly as he took out the thermometer. “The usual temperature,” he spoke to the recorders.

When he performed cunnilingus, Akon could see the flat line on the monitor indicating no thermal response.

Then Akon tried a variety of sexual positions with her during the act of intercourse. It was during these performances that Akon needed to use his horns and other body parts to accurately measure physical responses. There was no way to take a subject’s blood pressure when you were pounding her from behind.

In recent weeks, to Akon’s personal delight and to Kurotsuchi’s mild interest over lab reports, Nemu had begun to spontaneously orgasm to prolonged vaginal penetration that also involved significant upper body face-to-face contact. She displayed a preference for hugs and soft strokes that one would’ve guessed would be imperceptible to her specially engineered warrior epidermis. She was a marvel, of course, even in the orgasming department--peaking so often that it was a challenge for Akon to maintain the thrusting pressure she preferred.

She didn’t try to hold back or prolong her orgasms. They came in rapid succession, sometimes accompanied by husky sighs, sometimes not. Her eyes were so blank--was she thinking of the captain?

Akon moved his hips methodically and pressed his pulse-detecting horns against Nemu’s neck.

He could make her come, but he couldn’t make her care.

Had it been some encounter with the captain and that had triggered her first orgasms with Akon? Did she fantasize about the captain during sex?

A device to read dreams has not yet been invented. Akon had asked Kurotsuchi to develop one, but the captain had no interest. “Vague images,” he had said. “Not as revealing as empirical data. I don’t care about dreams.”

Nemu’s eyes still seemed blank, even as her body flushed.

Was she thinking about the young ryoka now? The one she had described in elegant language, the one who had possibly touched her breasts and thighs as he sought the antidote on her person?

Nemu arched her back and began to shake as her arms held onto Akon’s shoulders.

Did she realize that it was he, Akon, her long-time tester, who was grinding his hips over hers with studied proficiency? Did she associate him at all with the furiously high levels of pleasure noted on the monitor?

He was a scientist. He was not supposed to be subject to natural feelings. He was supposed to be objective and beyond the trappings of lust and jealousy. Like the captain. Captain Kurotsuchi was the model of detachment and devotion to….

Akon couldn’t remember as his identity shrunk into the space of his groin, and the inevitable occurred with lightning bolts of endorphins.

Pleasure, pleasure, pleasure.

Nemu showed no response to his spilling into her. He unclenched his hands. He rubbed his cheek against hers in an animalistic sign of ownership. He recognized the gesture for what it was but could disguise it behind the fact that his whole face was a response detector.

Devotion to science.

That was it.

Captain Mayuri Kurotsuchi was a model of devotion to science. If he were having sex with a subject, caring what she thought about him would be the furthest thing from his mind.

Semen poured down Nemu’s legs as she sat up, and Akon offered her the obligatory towel. Recently, her eyes had begun to avoid his after these investigations. Whether because of shyness or disinterest, Akon wasn’t sure.

Uncertainty itself is a science and motivates all experiments.

“Tomorrow morning.” Akon reminded her as she dressed, even though her memory was supernaturally accurate. “Tomorrow if you’re not busy with the captain, we’ll do that surgery to reconstruct your ribcage.”

She didn’t reply. Akon watched her tiny ankles as she stepped out of the laboratory and it wasn’t a scientific diagnostic tool that told him that she would not be back in the morning.

She didn’t want new ribs. She didn’t want to deceive the captain--even if her breakable bones furthered his argument that she was weak. She didn’t care even though her damaged state after the battle with the ryoka might incur a beating from the captain. Everyone in the division had heard Kurotsuchi at one time or another yelling that his vice-captain was becoming less and less essential to his command and more and more annoying.

The beatings were more frequent; Nemu’s end was near. And Nemu herself probably understood that it was Kurotsuchi who would kill her.

Was it any emotion, even if negative, that attracted Nemu’s attention and inspired her devotion?

Today Akon had discovered that Nemu was a liar, but the one she lied to was him, Akon, someone who didn’t register on her emotional range, someone who had sex with her and typed in his observations about her responses after.

Akon shook his head. Ridiculous. He was spending altogether too much time thinking about her.

He ran his hand through his hair. This was why he didn’t record observations after sex. He was too vulnerable.

Maybe he wasn’t cut out for this job. Just as Nemu was proving to be something less than the perfect vice-captain, Akon was failing in his objectivity and might have to be replaced soon. Maybe in order to be a scientist one had to be inhuman.

Captain Mayuri Kurotsuchi, Akon thought with wild admiration, is inhuman.

Those who followed him either mirrored his example or proved unworthy. Maybe Akon’s scientific detachment would shrink and fade to the point where Kurotsuchi deemed him expendable--like those squad boys who had died in the confrontation with the ryoka.

There were alternatives to this scenario. Akon’s scientific mind could not help but touch on hypotheticals. He could request a transfer to another division--maybe the fourth, where his diagnostic and lab skills could be put to use. Once Nemu proved herself to be obsolete, he could ask Captain Kurotsuchi for Nemu’s hand in marriage. There were married Shinigami couples in the thirteen divisions. Maybe Nemu would grow to care for Akon under a relationship that involved more familiarity and positive emotions.

But these things were foolish to even think about.

Akon folded his kimono and put his white laboratory coat over it. He had a full day of interpreting data ahead of him.


Much thanks to andrew_jp and saintalecto for beta feedback.
Tags: akon, mayuri, nemu, nemu's lie
  • Post a new comment


    Comments allowed for members only

    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded