Chapter One: In Which We Learn Why it's Important to Always Dispose of Your Trash Properly
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"So, what is it?" Gin tilted his head, peering at the strange contraption in the middle of the room. It wasn't the first time an ominous, unfamiliar device had appeared at headquarters, but this one didn't seem to be an implement of torture.
Aizen had clearly been waiting for the question to be asked, and he just about swelled with pride. "An inter-universal transporter and espresso machine," he answered grandly.
"Great," said Gin. He paused. "Why do we need one of those?"
"Why should I settle for being God of only this world? With this I can expand my domain until I am the ruler of countless universes."
Gin's expression was suitably impressed. "Where did you find it?"
"The blueprints were in Urahara's garbage," Aizen answered.
Gin smiled. (Well, he smiled wider. It would be difficult to notice unless you were familiar with Gin's facial expressions. Which Aizen was.) "So, when are you going to try it out?"
"Right now," Aizen replied. "Come." He pulled a lever on the side of the machine, and it began to whirr. He turned to a row of buttons beside the door. "Do you take sugar or cream?"
"Sugar please," Gin chirped.
Aizen pressed two buttons. "Now we go… on toward our destiny." He stepped inside the transporter (and espresso machine). Gin followed, wondering if Aizen realized how ridiculous he sounded sometimes.
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Muraki Kazutaka checked the temperature of the vat of fluid next to him. If he could just get the temperature right, the current collection of chemicals should provide he optimum environment for cell regeneration. Ah, it needed to be raised a few degrees. Muraki set to work. It was a very delicate procedure, and—
The inter-universal transporter (and espresso machine) appeared with a bright flash of light. The contraption hung suspended in the air for half a second before falling on its side with a resounding crash.
Muraki could do little more than stare at what had once been a workstation, but was now a heap of rubble underneath what Muraki's fine, scientific mind could only describe as a thingamajig.
"That was some espresso," a voice that was far too cheerful for the situation pronounced from within the device that had so unsettled Muraki's routine.
Most people would have looked disheveled and foolish climbing out of the upturned contraption, but luckily Aizen and Gin were protected by their s-factor. S-factor ("s" stands for "suave") is a special ability many villains posses which allows them to appear calm and collected in almost any situation. It was due to the s-factor that Aizen and Gin emerged from the transporter/espresso machine looking dignified, with expressions that clearly said "we meant to do that."
Muraki appeared entirely undisturbed by the very recent developments (he possessed plenty of s-factor, himself). He simply looked at the two men attempting to stand and asked, "May I inquire as to where you gentlemen are from?"
Aizen had just finished brushing himself off, and was about to invent a convincing lie, when Gin opened his mouth.
"We're shinigami," he explained bluntly, the near manic smile still firmly attached to his face. Aizen resisted the urge to rub his temple. That was the problem with Gin: he had a tendency to say and do the unexpected, and you couldn't always be sure that what he said or did would be in your best interest.
Muraki raised an eyebrow. "While that is an interesting, and original, explanation, your spiritual energy is quite different from any shinigami I have ever encountered."
Aizen hadn't planned on telling this man anything, but as he spoke, Aizen felt his defenses lower. There was something about the man's voice—something familiar and understandable. He cleared his throat in an authoritarian manner.
"I am Aizen Sousuke, and this is my subordinate, Ichimaru Gin. We are indeed shinigami; however, we are not from your world."
Muraki nodded slightly. If he was at all surprised that shinigami from another universe had crash landed in his lab, he didn't show it. "I see," he said. "Well, whatever business you have, I ask you to do it elsewhere. I have much work to do"
Aizen found himself intrigued. What could a man like this be working on? "And what type of work might that be, Mr…?" He realized that he did not know the man's name.
"Muraki," Muraki replied. "Muraki Kazutaka." He looked at Aizen and Gin for a long moment, studying them as if they were specimens in formaldehyde. Finally a small, curious smile graced his face. "As for my work, I am a doctor of medicine. I also dabble in attempting post-mortem regeneration. I wish to surpass the limitations of mortality."
Aizen's eyes gleamed and a confident smile spread across his face. "Muraki-sensei, that is a fascinating coincidence. I am on a journey to accomplish much the same thing. I have made excellent progress toward Godhood. My body and abilities are far beyond what is considered normal for my world."
Muraki's eyes took on a peculiar glint. He stepped forward, and touched Aizen's cheek lightly. Aizen clamped down on the urge to back away. He was not a man who was easily unsettled, but there was something about this Muraki-sensei that made him distinctly uncomfortable.
"You aren't as lovely as my beloved Tsuzuki-san, or even that irritating boy," Muraki mused, seemingly more to himself than anyone else, "but I believe you will do." He reached out and captured Aizen in a viselike grip. Aizen started, and tried to push Muraki off, but the doctor was surprisingly strong. Aizen began to thrash around.
"Gin, get this man off of me!" Gin, however, was busy righting the transporter (and espresso machine), and inspecting the buttons near the door.
"Ooh, it has hazelnut syrup," he noted happily. Aizen continued to bellow orders, but soon his shouting was drowned out by Muraki's mad cackling and cries of "Saki! Soon I will have a body for you!" Eventually the doctor pulled Aizen into a back room, closing a heavy metal door behind the two of them with an echoing clang.
I suppose this means that the position for God/Emperor of the Universe is now wide open, Gin thought. He peered at the buttons on the transporter/espresso machine, finally decided on a low fat cappuccino (Gods had to watch their figures, after all), and stepped into the machine.
Maybe he'd make Rangiku his empress.
Meanwhile—
Ichigo awoke to the sound of heated voices. Where the hell am I? he wondered. He remembered Urahara explaining that Aizen had built an inter-universal transporter (and espresso machine—why the hell did the thing need an espresso machine?). He remembered yelling at Urahara not to leave the blueprints for his bizarre inventions in the trash. He remembered Urahara shoving him and Rukia into Uruhara's own transporter (and freaking espresso machine). He remembered Rukia kicking the stupid thing because it wouldn't give her a raspberry mocha. He remembered a flash of light, a crash, and… well, that pretty much brought him up to date.
As Ichigo's mind cleared, he was able to make out what the voices above him were saying.
"Maybe we should give them apple pie."
"Idiot, apple pie isn't going to help."
"Well, it couldn't hurt."
Ichigo opened his eyes. Standing above him were two young men. One looked about Ichigo's age, while the other was some years older. Ichigo opened his mouth. "Bwah?" was his first eloquent statement. The younger man turned his head at the sound, and his eyes met Ichigo's.
"Oh, you're awake," he said matter-of-factly.
"Where am I?" Ichigo managed to croak out. "Who are you people?" he added for good measure.
"You're in Meifu, the land of the dead," the boy answered. "I'm Kurosaki Hisoka, and this," he jerked his thumb toward the older man who gave Ichigo a cheery wave, "is Tsuzuki Asato."
"Kuro…saki…" Ichigo repeated dumbly. At that point he decided that staying awake was way too much work. He had one last coherent thought before he entered the welcoming arms of unconsciousness.
He was going to kill Urahara.
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Author's Note: For people wondering why Aizen was so entranced by Muraki's voice, I was making a reference to the fact that Aizen and Muraki have the same voice actor, Show Hayami, a fact that amuses me endlessly.