Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of the characters of settings which Tite Kubo created.

Butterfly Moon

Aizen Sosuke, a very powerful, dangerous, intimidating, intelligent, evil . . . omit long list of adjectives . . . man, appeared in his Inner World. Even when he was sealed awat, deep inside the underground prison, and didn't have Kyōka Suigetsu at his waist or anywhere near him really, he could still go and have chats with the zanpakuto spirit. However, most times he tried to avoid exchanging words with her, because she was too much like him, and they didn't always get along. Then again, he also didn't willingly talk to her because she was too different from him, which was contradicting, and thus annoying as well.

So why now, was he going to the bother of getting into a calm enough state to enter his Inner World?

Why? Because despite his confident and know-it-all attitude, Aizen got depressed when he had no one to talk to. Belittling people, doing all of the usual 'everything's going to my evil master plan' stuff and just being a pain in the posterior for everyone else …. It made him feel so superior and cool.

'Kyōka Suigetsu?' arriving in the middle of what appeared to be a hedge maze, although the hedges were only knee high, Aizen peered about, not nervously at all, looking for the spirit and wondering when she'd redecorated. He didn't like it, it was too nice. Evil geniuses who plan to take over the world and all other worlds, blah blah blah … basically all of that type of stuff … er, anyway: people like that shouldn't have well-trimmed hedges in their Inner Worlds. Nor hedgehogs … just for the record.

'Running back here for company? Muken get too intense for you,' the smirk was evident in her smooth voice, and Aizen turned to face the young woman who just happened to be the spirit of his katana, 'Poor little sausage,'

'Please don't call me that,' trying to retain his cool and condescending mask, Aizen smiled his best, and most practiced, smile.

He had spent years getting that smile right …. All those late nights sitting in front of the mirror and trying to stop his immature and less-superior self from laughing at how ridiculous he sometimes made himself look … yah, the good old days when people thought he was as harmless as a hamster (ooh, alliteration!) and he didn't have to worry about someone turning up, trying to get rid of him, and spouting their 'I fight for the good of the world' speeches ...

But back to the point: The worst thing was that, when he met Hirako Shinji, he realised that what he'd thought was a brilliant smile actually looked really . . . strange and toothy. But that was when he was young and inexperienced and of course he had everything down pat now.

'Heh heh,'

So, if that was the case, why was Kyōka Suigetsu laughing? Or chuckling, why was she chuckling in such a mocking way?

'Is something funny?' trying to utilise all of his charisma and false charm, the former captain of the Fifth Division walked over to where the spirit of his zanpakuto sat on the elegant white metal chair, legs crossed and elbows resting on the table before her. The table with all of the pretty iced biscuits and cups of apple cider …

'Not at all,' she was never the slightest bit intimidated by him and, while that was good considering that she was his weapon, it really, really annoyed him. Even people like Yamamoto Genryusai Shigekuni, why oh why was his name so long, didn't treat him, Aizen Sosuke, that poorly.

He was supposed to be the condescending and indifferent one, not her.

'Do you have to take on that appearance whenever I come to visit?' barely concealed irritation tinged his tone, 'I find it most unpleasing,'

'Why? It's just an illusion,' it was a petulant reply, but it was obvious she was acting, and not to her best extent either. When Kyōka Suigetsu decided to put on a show, she could deceive anyone, including, unfortunately, him. So it was very obvious to someone as accustomed to the spirit as Aizen, that she wanted him to see her sulking.

Aizen looked at her pointedly, hoping she wasn't seriously going to make him explain all of the things about the illusion she placed him under as soon as he appeared, that bothered him. For a start, he disliked the fact that his zanpakuto spirit, a very dangerous and deceptive creature, was a human woman. Or at least, she put him under that illusion and told him so often, just to annoy him further.

Kyōka Suigetsu would've been taller than average because she wanted him to feel short; with a lithe physique because she wanted him to feel fat; and she was always effortlessly graceful beause she wanted him to feel clumsy. Skin that looked as if it was artificially tanned, emerald green eyes a little too large to be normal and shocking pink hair that put that Yachiru brat's to shame. Yes, that practically completed her image. But then she also always had super untidy or outrageous haircuts, which he didn't approve of.

One year it had been short and spiky, another, curled and bouncy, yet another decade later, long and plaited. That year had been the one when he'd decided to avoid Unohana as much as possible, just in case the spirit would continue to emulate the Fourth Division captain's mannerisms. Kyōka Suigetsu was a gifted actor, and a gifted illusionist, obviously, so when he'd come down, seen her braid and then heard her ask him if he needed a 'check-up', he'd turned on his heel and gotten the hell out of there.

Anyhow, this time there were two large, fluorescent pink ponytails on either side of her head. And they were corkscrewed.

As if all of that wasn't bad enough, to his horror (and it took a lot to horrify Aizen, him being such an evil genius after all) there was also messy streaks of viridian, turquoise, orange and black which clashed terribly with the pink and, overall, created a combination which literally hurt to look at. And not just because it was so unusual … the colours burned, he was certain of it.

'You do all of this to try and make me lose my iron self-control, don't you,' his voice was as pleasant as ever, but she could tell he was pretending, and she smiled sweetly at him.

Next on his mental list of complaints were the clothes she decided to wear. It was nothing scandalous, thank whoever was out there listening a million times over, but it was old Human World stuff mixed with more modern clothing. Who knew how she'd ever gotten sight of that type of clothing in the first place, but somehow, she must have.

So, Kyōka Suigetsu's little dress up consisted of an old-fashioned dress with full skirts made from fabrics with daring patterns and in every shade of white imagineable, heeled beige shoes which looked very dangerous, large amethyst earrings which matched the colour of their reiatsu and an innocent looking peach coloured fan.

A fan? Well, whatever her reason for holding one (it might have been to imitate Urahara Kisuke, but he couldn't tell) he instinctively knew she could cause a world of pain with it.

'What did you want to see me about, dearie?' she slid into a perfect act of the thoughtful, kind, trusting, decent person that only he'd ever guess she really wasn't. This was one of those times when she completely fooled him with her acting. These times . . . he had to be careful or he'd get tricked into saying all kinds of embarrassing things.

'Mid-life crisis? Issues with depression? Eating disorders? Mental instability? Zanpakuto problems?' her clear green eyes betrayed none of her hidden laughter. Both wielder and katana both enjoyed laughing at people silently, it was so fun.

'Mid-life crisis? Zanpakuto pro-,' Aizen found himself echoing her until he realised that the second one had a few 'translations', some of which certainly had nothing to do with a blade, 'You're mean and sick,' he didn't bother to hide his real emotions behind his stoic but smiling façade, that was just too much for him to cope with.

'Why thank you, I always try to emulate my master,' her eyes narrowed to slits as her smile widened, 'Mr Butterfly, sir,' leaning back, she tapped her chin with a slender finger, 'You know, I was thinking of getting a name change. You know, to, like,' she also knew he hated language that wasn't smooth and delivered perfectly without harsh breaks, 'Like, I dunno . . . how about Kyōka Chogetsu?'

'Chogetsu?' he wasn't getting it, his brain had suffered too much damage from her last remark.

'Yeah, Mirror Flower, Butterfly Moon. Since you say I should be more like you, sometimes anyway, maybe once a decade or two . . . anyway, I thought that would fit since you've got this thing for butterflies. I know it's kind of unmanly and embarrassing to look so girly, but you know . . . I kinda liked it. It looked really . . . flutter-through-fields-of-daisies and race off into the sunset on a white stallion, that sort of thing. Flowers and butterflies go so well together too! Oh, and my Shikai could become something you could see, like, er, hmm,' she was really enjoying the pain showing clearly on his usually calm face, 'I've got it!' she shouted out and leapt to her feet, the three inch heels on her shoes not hindering her in the slightest, 'A cloud of white and purple butterflies which swarm the person and then disappear into them, reverting to larvae which will both create a flawless illusion and eat them from inside out,' she held up two fingers beside her face as if she was in a photo and grinned, 'Perfect, huh?'

Aizen wondered why he'd ever even considered coming here. Maybe so much solitary confinement really was affecting his usually brilliant mind. Looking at the zanpakuto spirit as she pranced around the table pretending to be what he supposed was . . . well, a butterfly, he couldn't help but start sulking.

Kyōka Suigetsu was dramatic, like him, a master planner, like him, a hider of her true emotions, like him, perfect at seeming casual and uncaring . . . like him. They were so similar, but they couldn't stand each other. Or, in more realistic terms, he couldn't stand her.

She had the best time toying with him, especially with her appearance and attitude.

'Kyōka Suigetsu,' he tried to sound intimidating and failed miserably, 'You cannot change your name, or your Shikai, MY Shikai,' he quickly amended himself, but the damage had already been done.

'Are you setting me free, master?' she gave him a beautifully cute smile and fluttered her long eye lashes, 'So that I can make my own decisions,'

'You already do, unfortunately,' Aizen interrupted her there, and tried to take back control of the situation, 'Listen, I'm stronger than you! I beat you and got Bankai!'

Kyōka Suigetsu stared at the man who wielded her, and she decided that she'd stressed him out enough for one decade, or at least a few years. They'd see each other again, undoubtedly, since he was locked away for 20 000 years, so it'd be alright if she played her trump card now.

The butterfly thing always made him go quiet and sulky, and then she'd start saying everything that she really wanted to. She knew he thought about it a lot. Sure, he'd caused some serious destruction in that form, but at what cost? His manliness, of course. She'd spend days looking through his memories and laughing so, so hard whenever someone saw him in that form.

The first thought that probably went through the human's heads, was 'oh my! It's a girl cross-dressing as a boy, cosplaying as a stupid, white butterfly thing! That's really so lame! Take a photo, quick! No one's gonna believe such a pathetic thing'. Kyōka Suigetsu barely refrained from chuckling darkly.

She loved teasing Aizen, and twisting his head around so much that he'd take months to recover enough to even touch her hilt. It was one of the reasons he'd become so proficient at kido. He'd really decided that he needed another way of protecting himself while he was too creeped out or just plain furious to use her. The former of the two being the more common, of course.

'Alright, here's the thing, Aizen Sausage,' she watched him twitch in hidden glee, hiding it perfectly behind her serious and pitiful expression, 'You never defeated me, my dear,'

'What?' Aizen jumped out of his chair in shock, almost tripping over the nearest hedge, 'What are you talking about?'

'Listen, and calm down, 'Kyōka Suigetsu smiled kindly, waving for him to sit again, 'I know it's a lot to deal with, but . . . have you ever used Bankai in a fight before?' he was silent, although whether in agreement or just shock . . . she didn't really care, 'No? I didn't think so. That's because you don't have Bankai, understand?' her kind tone was unfaltering, 'I don't have to spell it out for you, do I?'

'I do! I do have Bankai!' he sounded like a child throwing a tantrum after being denied a certain candy or plushie, 'I'll . . . I'll SHOW YOU!' he jumped up again, reaching for his waist where . . . 'Where's my zanpakuto?'

His bewildered/befuddled/lost expression was completely and utterly priceless.

'It was taken away when you got sealed up,' still kind, still condescending, 'Remember, flutterby-butterfly?' she stood up slowly, 'Oh, my sorry little soulmate. I am sorry to have tricked you like this . . . yes, how many years have you thought you had Bankai for? Oh poor you, it's a very long lot, isn't it,' she put a hand over her mouth as if in sadness, but in reality she was grinning in a feral way, 'My illusions are just still so superior to yours, I mean, you haven't even seen my true form!'

Aizen was quivering and he sank to the ground in slow motion, looking like he was about to cry, 'It's not true! None of it!'

If this wasn't a perfect example of someone going into denial, she'd eat her shoe – stiletto and all, of course.

'Well, how about I show you my Bankai, then you can see that you really never had it,' Kyōka Suigetsu materialised the katana in her hand, said blade replacing her fan, 'But you know, when you're back in Muken, you should wonder how many other times I've deceived you . . . I know it's mean, but I can't help myself. When you're looking so down, I just want to make you feel better, you know . . . boost your weak excuse of self-esteem. That's the only reason I've been deceiving you all these years … you should be grateful, sweetie,'

'What?' Aizen had obviously only heard part of what she said, or at least, he was only paying attention to part, 'When have you tricked me? What have I done that I think I've done that you're now saying I haven't done because you just made me think I'd done it when really it was all me doing nothing when you were saying that nothing had been done?'

'Poor sausage-butterfly, you don't even make sense anymore, I had hoped this news wouldn't shock you this much,' straightening, Kyōka Suigetsu raised her katana and began shrieking at the top of her voice, 'Bankai! Bankai! Bankai!'

Aizen screamed.

Sometime later, Aizen's eyes flew open and he blinked, trying to ignore the sweat pouring down his face but wishing his hands weren't bound so that he could wipe his brow. If that was Kyōka Suigetsu's Bankai, then he wasn't so sure he even wanted to learn it.

But that was assuming that she was telling the truth and that had been her Bankai, something debatable considering their similar personalities. So had he, or had he not, mastered his zanpakuto's second release?

And what had she been saying about using illusions on him when he didn't realise it?

A feeling of dread settled into the former evil genius' stomach, and he grimaced. It would really be terrible if he hadn't actually managed to block Tessai's Hiryūgekizokushintenraihō, and had only managed to escape after having half of his clothes blown off and the rest of him sent flying through the air, blackened and stripped of all dignity.

It would explain why that Urahara guy was always way less intimidated by him than he should have been …

And what other times were there when he really hoped that Kyōka Suigetsu hadn't been using her illusions on him . . . ?

When he stabbed Hinamori and was subsequently attacked by her little friend, the chibi captain of the Tenth … he thought he hadn't been injured at all. But what if the brat had actually managed to wound him? That would be so embarrassing considering the differences in their ages … not to mention his zanpakuto was supposed to hypnotise people completely!

Or when he'd taken off those 'nicey-nicey' glasses in order to dramatically exit Soul Society … what if he'd poked himself in the eye or something when he'd brushed back his hair just because his vision hadn't focused fast enough and he'd misjudged the distance! Way to ruin an epic moment …

Ooh yah, there were way too many . . . way too many.

Cursing the zanpakuto spirit with all of his sealed might, Aizen went completely limp in his restraints and decided he'd never visit her again, nor use her katana form, nor even think her name.

5 000 Years Later

'Hey Aizen Saccharine-Smile,' Kyōka Suigetsu grinned brightly at her so-called 'master' as he appeared in the rocky canyon of his Inner World, 'Finally pluck up enough courage to come see me again? I'm soooo~ glad, because I've prepared quite the surprise for you!'

Aizen looked around, and he could've strangled himself when he saw a shinigami with shoulder length, spiky orange hair and bright brown eyes, wearing a long black coat with a purplish-red underside, and holding what looked to be his Kyōka Suigetsu.

'Please tell me that's an just an inanimate illusion and you didn't purposely make yourself appear like that, just for me?' his tone was almost defeated, but Aizen never showed defeat so it couldn't be fully defeated, 'Kyōka Suigetsu?'

The lady version of a certain Kurosaki Ichigo grinned in a wild way, 'Your eyes see only what I want them to, remember. I'd have thought that, after all of these years being my servant, you would've figured that much out,'

Aizen couldn't believe any of this, why did he always ignore his highly intelligent brain and keep coming back here?

'How about you try for Bankai today after we finish re-enacting your not so brilliant fight with K.I? Although you don't have a zanpakuto . . . and I'm not manifested in the real world,' there was a short silence, followed by a cheerful, 'No problem! This should be fun! Shatter, Kyōka Suigetsu! Heh, shatter, me!' leaping forwards, she shouted again, 'Get that kido working, Saccharine-Smile!'

Aizen barely had time to react before he was bowled off his feet. As he lay sprawled on his back, a single thought drifted through his head, Why me? I don't deserve this . . . I've done nothing to deserve this . . . have I?

Author's Note:

Maybe Aizen should question who his zanpakuto is loyal too . . . maybe only herself. And if he really wants to talk down to someone, maybe it would be better just to talk to himself. I'm sure no one would think he was insane (?). And it doesn't seem like he really gets a word in during their 'conversations' anyway.

Okay, I hope you enjoyed reading this very random story!