I acquired the power necessary to fight equally with Aizen, and then finally touched it in battle... In his blade, there was only "solitude." If his power was truly on a level of its own from the moment he was born, then maybe he was just searching for someone who was standing at the same viewpoint as he was. And then maybe from the moment he gave up on that, he just kept wishing somewhere in his heart that he could be "just a Shinigami." - Ichigo Kurosaki
It is impossible to determine the specifics of my birth. I do recall, however, several flickering shadows that stood before me as I had just come into this world; into this existence. One was familiar from the start. A woman with long brown hair and a soft expression, towering over my small and fragile bodily structure with tears slowly descending from her rosy cheeks. Sadness? No... It wasn't such an emotion. More like a sense of relief and zeal... Happiness or joy. The others were not so easy to identify. I could count perhaps six figures beside the crying woman. Facial features were indeterminable. They were much too far from my premature eyes to identify to such detail. That being said, what did strike me as odd was that two of them were wearing the exact same clothing. Robes as black as the darkness that composed my world prior to this awakening. And then I knew...
Shinigami.
This word that gave meaning to these robed figures came to my ears following the transition from newborn to young man. I witnessed the robed figures by the groups walking up and down the abode that was presumably my home. Shinigami were our protectors; our guardians. The woman who identified herself as my mother would always said such a thing. In this land, they were viewed as heroes among heroes. Whenever creatures of darkness came to destroy the various houses and people in this land, the Shinigami would arrive to save them. To vanquish the monsters with a swing of their mighty swords. But there was something else. They commanded respect and admiration through their efforts. It was because of this power, which caused others to hang on their coattails, that these Shinigami were so highly revered. Not just heroes... Life and death of these powerless villagers rested solely on the shoulders of these warriors clad in black. The Shinigami were these peoples' God.
I want that.
That day still remains fresh in my mind. Young men with extraordinary levels of latent energy were apparently... selected by the Shinigami. Those with such potential were said to be capable of being molded into Shinigami themselves. My chance arrived. And so... I left my home. Strange enough, it did not appear to bother my parental figures much. The woman called "mother" seemed to not pay much mind. But she had seen me off as I began my trek to the south. This did not bother me whatsoever. Never did I ever feel accepted in this place. In this place called home, this woman known as mother spent many days in a room of the home where I was forbidden to enter. Many nights, the sounds of crying came from the room. The same crying I heard upon the day of my birth. The people of the village that I resided in were none too friendly either. Many were old men and women whom have passed their days had no words to waste with a young child whom has yet to reach his prime moments in life. So leaving was nothing difficult. Besides, what awaited me was...
Shinō Academy.
This was the school where potentials like myself were brought. If my assumption was correct, each and every one of these young men and women who gathered here were just like me. Potentials with dormant energy levels within them that begged to be surfaced. I would begin the next part of my life... here.
"Mother!"
Running toward the home, I was carrying the results of an exam I had taken in the academy. A look of accomplishment composed my face due to the perfect score I had received. I ran along the boardwalk when a man, often considered my "uncle", stopped me before I could advance.
"Oi-kun."
Oi-kun was the nickname this man often called me. It had nothing to do with my actual name. It was a term that meant "nephew". It was after being called this so many times that I identified this man as my uncle. After all, it was a logical assumption; something I was never corrected about, meaning I most likely was correct.
"You know you shouldn't be making noise. Your mother is not feeling well. Please go somewhere else quietly."
This was not the first time. Whenever I'd come home to present the fruits of my efforts, I was always shut down before getting a chance to display them. My mother would be ill or tired, according to my uncle or my aunt, one of the two that always stopped me from being able to make it into the room where my mother was. Perhaps it wasn't an accomplishment worth admiration. If she truly was exhausted to such a degree every single day, then trivial feats would be nothing but a waste of time. Therefore, the only solution is to work harder. I will need to work harder to be noticed by her.
Holding a wooden blade and thrusting it with precision, I broke through my opponent's defense. His arms were forced to spread out, revealing his abdomen. And with another swing, he fell on his back: defeated.
"Ippon!" shouted the instructor. It was Zanjutsu class; swordsmanship was the only thing practiced and most days, this was done so through one-on-one sparring.
"Excellent work, young one. You truly have the skills to become a soldier of the Gotei 13 at this rate! Everybody else, make sure you don't fall behind."
That is how it went. In this class, I remained undefeated. No other student could match my ability, despite the fact that when it came to height and age, I was their junior. Sure, it was a case of natural talent. But every night, I spent it training in the woods beside my village. Until my arms could no longer lift even the bokken itself, I spent those sleepless nights improving and perfecting my technique and strength. But it mattered not...
Jealousy was the only thing strong about them. Whether it was a show of physical strength, physical ability, and even intelligence, they were all severely lacking. I was truly the superior one among them. But then... Why is it that instead of being showered with glory and admiration, they looked at me as though I were some... rogue element. As if I was a disease... Bacteria in this academy that had no business being there. And as I continued to see this, a spark of hatred began to grow within me. Festering, it grew within me: hatred that had no reason for existing besides from the lack of understanding due to emotional shortcomings of my fellow students.
Why should they hate me? They should look to me as a symbol of achievement. The Shinigami who would come to my village... always received looks of respect. So why?! Why must I receive only looks of hatred and jealousy?! What sets me apart from those warriors?! Maybe I... I just haven't worked hard enough. Maybe I haven't reached that level. That precipice. Receiving praise from my instructor for feats that were perhaps average and mediocre when compared to those warriors in black... Praise that was not truly earned nor deserved, so the students became enraged when I'd be given such. That would make sense.
I just need to work harder. I must work harder. To receive the admiration I long... I must work harder.
But I…
"My hand... someone, please...!"
Falling into total darkness. And as I reach out to grab someone... anyone's hand... nobody does.
Then I awake.
This dream would happen almost every night, the exact same way each and every time. I never understood what it meant. Or what it was trying to tell me subconsciously. Perhaps a warning... An omen of things to come. Nevertheless, it was moot. Today... the work I had done would finally see results.
After only three months, it became quite clear to the instructors of Shinō that I was destined for greater things. It had been a month before that I had managed to forge communication with the inner spirit known as Zanpakutō that lay dormant within me. The power of this sword became yet one more reason for those students to shun me. While they had swords meant for melee and simple techniques, mine was a complex sword with an absolute ability that could dominant any adversary. And the fact that I could wield it so effortlessly... did not seem to help.
In one month's time, I was to be brought to the center of Seireitei. I was to be enlisted to the military of Shinigami as a seated officer: an accomplishment that even the most skilled students of the academy would not be capable of achieving without having acquired experience as a foot soldier. I would become a Fifth Seat, an extremely high-ranking position within the organization; something utterly unheard of for a student who had managed to graduate the academy right off the bat.
Given a letter to notify my caretakers of this, I walked toward my village... Toward my home. Finally, my effort rewarded me with an accomplishment worthy of recognition. I would stand on the same level as those heroes clad in black whom were so highly regarded. But a conversation held in the dead of night outside the room where I was forbidden to walk inside was being held and I could hear every word of it.
"It truly is a tragedy... but you must not continue to weep like this. Regardless of it, Oi-kun is still healthy! Your nephew is..." was the sound of my uncle's voice.
"That boy means nothing... Nothing at all. It was because of him that my sister met such an end...!" the woman I once knew as mother cried.
"What are you saying?! What if he hears you?!" uncle responded.
"But! But it's... It just isn't fair... My sister was so beautiful and talented. She was still so young. She had her whole life! But that... ''rotten'' spawn...! He took everything from her. That child... should have never been born!" her cries turned quick into roars of rage.
"You need your rest, sister... You've been in mourning for so long, even your eyes are beginning to darken from the insomnia. Please go to bed." the uncle advised.
…
Why?
Why doesn't anyone look at me?
Even though I'm working so hard... Even though I've done wrong to nobody...
Why don't you look at me?!
Look at me! Praise me! Don't... Don't leave me alone! Please stay by my side! Why...
Why won't anybody stay by my side?
...
Talentless. Ignorant. Misguided.
They're all talentless... that's why. I live in a different world from them. My power, my intelligence, my skills...
I am a chosen one. I am better than them. That's why... That's why they won't look at me. They can't. They can't understand me, and out of this inability, they have cast me off into darkness. And as they did so, I foolishly continued seeking their audience. No... It is unnecessary for me to seek their admiration. My vision is wasted on them.
If I must be ignored, if I must remain alone... It will not be in this pathetic solitary darkness.
I will stand at the top. In that vacant throne above all others... so that nobody will be able to ignore me anymore. I will be as the sun itself.
I'll make them see it... I'll force them to. I will make them see my existence.
Sōsuke Aizen's existence!