(edited 17/01/2013)
Hopefully it won't be too confusing. I had wanted to show a different side to Aizen, how his nice facade in Soul Society was once his true guise before he slowly descended into madness, and how he used to use the old side of him as a mask when in Soul Society. Tell if I succeeded, yeah? :D
Warnings? Dark, mainly. AN at bottom.
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or Naruto
—THE DESCENT—
His warm, brown eyes washed over her hunched form, lazily grazing over her wrinkled face and dull green eyes that stared back at him filled with something akin to pity and sympathy. Not hate and loathing, which was what he was expecting... and even hoping.
He stopped his pacing, clenching his fists hidden within the long sleeves of his white attire and narrowing his eyes solely on her withering ones. This old woman...
...how dare she look at him like that. It disgusted him that such a frail, wrinkled old woman, garbed in a peasants clothing from the Rukongai district in the Seireitei and just strong enough to walk without assistance, thought she could look up at him with such emotions embedded in her eyes; emotions that hinted to him being human, weak.
Aizen, for the first time in a very long time, felt a spark of anger.
He almost wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation.
Only her...
A chiming giggle tore a twenty-six year old Aizen from his thoughts and he swung his head dazedly to the hospital doors, eyes capturing the form of the pink-haired medic laughing with a clipboard held in her grasp. He matched her gleeful green eyes before letting a tired but pleased smirk onto his face, looking away in almost embarrassment. "I swear the hospital has your name on it, Aizen," she laughed again, her footsteps soft but crystal clear to his trained ears.
The brunette man softly scoffed in amusement and he let his gaze trail over his bandaged body; over his torso, his arms and the small bandaids placed over a few trivial cuts scattered everywhere on his skin. He could feel the antiseptic and even smell the horrid stench of it.
He honestly didn't mind, however.
"Either that or it loves me," he responded after a few seconds. He had to force the smile off his face when it began stretching the stiches near his ear, giving him an ounce of sharp pricks.
She laughed again, rounding the end of his bed to his bedside table that held a lamp and a glass of water. He hadn't touched it, noting that there was a layer of dust resting on the surface of it. It must have been there for some time, and while he may be considered picky, he preferred cold water.
"We should get you to pay for all the medicine we have to put into you."
Aizen startled, staring the sugary-haired woman in the eyes. "Goodness, I hope not!" She giggled. "Being a jounin doesn't really pay for everything I need as it is!"
Her pink eyebrows arched in curiosity. "Really? Just what do you spend your money on then, I wonder?"
"How else?" he shrugged, humouring her. "Hiring the men to beat me up so that I could see you." A slight smile made its way onto his lips once more as he cursed himself inwardly for being too forward with his medic. Luckily, she brushed off the flirt with a laugh and he realised that she probably received a lot of jokes such as that from everyone else; the men at least. However, he was telling the awful truth.
To an extent.
He did not hire men to get him wounded. In fact, his wounds derived almost always from his missions as a jounin. It was a huge pain – literally – to return home with aches and bruises and smothered in blood and scratches, and the smell and atmosphere in a hospital wasn't particularly pleasant but seeing Sakura seemed to make it worth it. This small sign of affection towards another was something he hated.
Aizen was gifted. He was a good ninja, assigned numerous life-threatening missions that he completed with relative easy – with the exclusion of his trophies of battle; aka, the battle scars – but he was overly nice and polite; appearing generic, a gentleman. This caused women to take advantage of him, a fact he was all too aware of but could not let the habit slide, no matter how grating, or even insulting, it was.
The honest truth was that he did find women a sort of distraction. A tie to someone back home can cause a falter in a decision in the heat of battle, something he couldn't even risk considering he was already returning home looking as though he was swimming with sharks. But no matter how much he told himself that he wouldn't develop soft-spoken feelings for someone, this unusual medic just had to worm her way into his mind. It was embarrassing for him, actually, so he settled with admiration from afar, except for the occasional slip up like just then.
"Now, let's take a look," Sakura said, tilting his head back so that she could briefly check the stitches and scratches beneath the white bandages on his face. He watched her as she inspected. Clicking her tongue, the kunoichi pulled back and scribbled on her clipboard before tenderly pressing her fingertips to his chest and poking around, testing for any more aching bits. Once or twice Aizen flinched, lifting his top lip up into a silent snarl, and when he did, Sakura wrote something on her clipboard, her brow set into a furrow.
Aizen just watched, waiting in silence for the check up to end.
"This..." Sakura lightly dragged her finger over the slowly sealing wound on his shoulder, "...was caused by an animal." She matched gaze with the brunette and raised an eyebrow. "What did your mission entail, exactly?"
He fought the urge to smile. "Classified."
Sakura cursed under her breath. Her current job as one of the head medics in Konoha meant she had to remain in the town at all times, save for the very rare missions where she got to travel somewhere else, mainly Suna. Naruto, in his over protectiveness, also wanted her to remain safe, at least until the anarchy with Sound and Sasuke had come to an end.
Aizen, however, couldn't resist giving a small lip of his mission. "A summon."
She pursed her lips. "Must have been a pretty fast summon to catch you." He chuckled, taking the compliment in stride. "The talons of the animal were poisoned, this you already know—" he nodded "—but..." Sakura inspected the wound again, "...it looks like the antidote is working. The skin is closing over but you'll have a scar." She paused in her writing. "You can live with that, right?"
Aizen promptly lifted up the edge of a bandage to showcase the small white jaggered scar that ran over his hip. "I think I can."
Sakura laughed. "Okay, macho man, I get your drift." She gestured for him to cover his skin again. "I'll get you lunch." She headed for the exit, looking over her shoulder as she paused at the doors. "Don't go anywhere, okay? And don't get anymore hurt. I'll have to have a talk with Naruto about your future missions." She was gone before Aizen could protest.
He needed the money, honestly, he did, and the lack of missions, or the level of them, could dampen his current supply of the currency. What he needed if for? He didn't know—he suddenly smirked, ignoring the stretch of skin with his stitches as he inspected the pads of his coarse finger tips.
That was a secret.
Sakura squealed with happiness, throwing her arms in the air and collecting the blond-haired Uzumaki into a tight hug, cutting off his much needed air supply. "S-Sakura," he wheezed out, lips puffed like a puffer fish as she held his head closer to her shoulder. He winced when his back crack, and he gestured to the calmly awaiting Aizen to get his best friend off of him.
The brunette affirmed, reminding the pinkette that even though the Hokage was the strongest in the village, he did need precious oxygen to survive. At this, Sakura stepped back swiftly, scratching the back of her head in embarrassment and muttering an apology to the hacking blonde. "I think you fixed my back, Sakura," Naruto stated breathlessly, stretching his sore body before relaxing with a huge smile. He waved off her offer to heal him.
Aizen chuckled. "She obviously needs this mission to put her much stored up energy into something."
"Uh-huh!" Naruto agreed. "So, think you'd able to handle it you two?" He shuffled through the paper on his desk that looked like it always did recently, ever since Naruto had become the Hokage. It was a mess, layered with parchments that looked to be in no specific order, but he insisted that it was his style of sorting. He'd still be able to find everything necessary but wouldn't be able to if it was 'organised'. Sakura shook her head, remembering the day he explained that her organisation was messy, and his 'mess' was his organisation.
Sakura and Aizen shared a look and confident smile before nodding in affirmation to their leader who was currently looking through his bookshelves, sneezing whenever he pulled out a particularly dusty book. "Hokage," Aizen started. "Are you looking for anything?"
Naruto glanced at them, sniffling, roaming his eyes over the book titles. "Yeah, I am. Hinata wants a book. Something about Clans and Bloodlines and she insists that it's in my office but she's gotta be wrong! I can't find it anywhere!"
"Won't be able to find anything in this room," Sakura mumbled, crossing her arms.
"I heard that," Nauto called, a sneeze soon after.
Sakura giggled. "Honestly, Naruto, this is an office for the public, not your personal room." She glared menacingly at a pile of ramen cups supposedly hidden behind the desk.
He didn't reply, merely waved a hand at the book shelf. "I'll tell her later. Now I gotta give you guys your mission details."
"We can handle it, easily," Aizen responded surely.
Naruto grinned. "No doubt!" He handed the brunette a thin pile of papers before chuckling nervously. "Oh yeah... Sakura told me to not give you too many missions, so try not to get too wounded in this one, okay?"
The pinkette glowered.
Aizen smiled politely. "Of course."
"That's what you've said all the other times!"
His curl of the lips stretched a little more before he bowed slightly towards the Hokage and offhandedly said, "It's on the top shelf, left bookcase," then left a gaping Naruto in self-dismissal.
"Eleven am at the gates, tomorrow!" he heard Sakura yell before he closed the door behind him, the voices within now muffled.
Aizen paused, fingers clenching around the parchment as his polite smile twisted into an excited smirk. Blinking behind black-rimmed glasses, Aizen quickly forced his excitement into his stomach so that it did not bother him before he read the full details of the mission.
It was a partner one to Ame. Sakura was the other who was accompanying him, or rather, he was accompanying her as a guard. Her goal was to help the medical facilities there in hopes to strengthen the weakening alliance between Rain and Leaf. Aizen was to ensure her safety while also overseeing the recruits training and give some basic tips if necessary but nothing bigger than that. The blond Hokage – Aizen felt a twinge of disgust in his stomach, smothering his excitement – may be nice and more than willing to help but he was aware of many things, and giving other villages that once sided with the enemy an edge was something he couldn't risk.
Aizen wasn't quite sure what it was, but he just did not like his leader, and as he slowly strolled back towards his neat apartment, he dwelled on it.
Maybe it was the way the blond shrimp ran things, or was it his attitude towards everything? He barely showed a frown. He constantly smiled, just like that ex-ROOT fella, Sai. Aizen always knew that people who could hide behind a fake smile were devious and clever, but Naruto was of a different kind. The man was both an open and closed book. He looked to be predictable and often was, but he was also unexpected.
This, Aizen realised, was probably not why he disliked the blond. If anything it could be what he respected about him.
Then what was it?
Was it the fact that at twenty-two, the infamous Kyuubi-vessel obtained a high standard of power? Something that Aizen had hoped to gain himself and had thus trained thoroughly for but lost to a hyperactive ninja who was once one of the most feared humans of all time?
Yes. That had to be it.
All the time and effort Aizen put towards reaching a stronger and newer potential was put to waste when he lost to an idiot like that.
Anger suddenly spurred within his chest and his veins tingled with adrenaline. He stopped short, standing idly in the middle of the pathway as he stared at the ground, his mind mulling things over cautiously.
This anger... it did feel good. But he knew that it would get him no where if he suddenly lashed out with his mind and strength. Just a week ago he was sitting in that hospital bed, thinking, tingling, wondering what he was doing and feeling.
It didn't make sense.
He was skilled, genjutsu his forte, but always came home covered in blood and wounded, something he knew he was capable of avoiding. And he wondered if he was reaching for something that made sense to him but wasn't grasping it properly.
The money.
Often he came home seeing an unfinished project sitting in his room, wood shavings littering the floor around the desk and metal dust collecting everywhere. And he'd find himself wondering when he started that project, while also curious with where he was going with it. And for some reason he decided not to show his confusion and dislike to the open. For some reason, he chose to hide behind a gentle guise which he was sure was his true face. He once enjoyed the simplicity of life, the small joy of planting a seed, but recently he realised that, somehow, he was planting a different type of seed.
A seed inside each and every citizen within Konoha.
Konoha feared the unknown, so let them fear a little while longer.
Aizen gasped, staggering back when his thoughts spiralled from innocent curiosity to painful distaste. He breathed in heavily, the air grating smoothly against his throat as he hurriedly tried to regain his startling thoughts, only to go numb when he realised that he couldn't remember any of it. It was the same concept as a dream – whenever the last time he had one that is – where he dreamt it but woke up only to feel those images and sounds begin to fade into a memory.
It was maddening.
Maddening more because Aizen was beginning to fear he was losing the plot and he did not want to lose it. He had come much too far for such a thing. He had braved many things and would not lose to it. It's happened before. This sort of emotion and loss of dark thoughts had occurred to him a number of times spanning over a year and a half, only it was getting more frequent.
He wondered if he should go see Sak—no, he couldn't.
Aizen straightened, wondering, again, where that sudden strong decision had come from. He brought his hands before him, dry lips parted as brown eyes hovered wearily over shaking fingers. He had to convince himself that everything was normal and wasn't a facade, that he was able to complete tomorrows mission with ease and not worry.
He cleared his throat awkwardly, ignoring the trembling in his appendages as he restarted his trek back home. And when he was made vaguely aware of his apartment within sight, he wondered why he needed a facade in the first place.
"Geez, what happened to you?" Sakura exclaimed as soon as Aizen arrived at the musty red gates of Konoha, his fingers rubbing his temple and his normally tamed brown hair in dishevel. He whispered a sigh through dry lips and he closed his eyes, breathed in and raised his head to meet Sakura's worried gaze. He smiled.
"Nothing important," he stated.
Sakura snorted, crossing her arms, fingers lazily trailing over the zip of a black pouch at her waist. "'Nothing important' my ass. You look horrible!" She threw her hands up in exasperation.
Aizen merely raised an eyebrow. "Thank you, Sakura." Hopefully she'd notice the sarcasm.
She did, and her shoulders dropped. She shook her head like she was dealing with a temperamental child. Her fringe, framing her face but also shading slightly over her eyes, tickled her lids and she puffed at them in irritation. "You men are impossible sometimes."
He blinked, honestly curious what she meant and how they were. If anything, women were the impossible ones. Hygiene, appearance, fashion, nails, hair, make-up, he could go on but found that thinking of such trivial things was like giving fuel to the flaming headache he was enduring. See? Point proven. Women were just as prone to give headaches as men.
"Oh?"
She groaned in aggravation. "I had to listen to one of Naruto's rants about why he didn't understand why Hinata was angry at him and mind you, she had every reason to be angry at him. After all, he did break a vase that was very important to Hinata and was one of the few gifts from her father, and on top of that, didn't give her a massage when she was feeling all sorts of aches and pains due to her being pregnant!"
Aizen paused, waiting for both the pinkette to catch her breath and for the unsettling movement in his stomach to subside. He assumed this is what the two spoke about yesterday after he left. "You women always stick together," he stated.
Sakura's breath hitched at his words and she glared at him. "Pardon me?" she asked politely, but the severe furrowing above her eyes proved anything but.
As for Aizen, he smiled, hoping to gloss over his opinion. "From what I've seen, women are biased when it comes to their own kind."
She huffed. "Own kind? Biased? What about you? Are you siding with Naruto on this one?" There it was again, the sensation of worms wriggling about within his stomach.
He tried to keep a smile up, but found it surprisingly easier than before when the blond was mentioned. "What's more important: the responsibility of the entire village, or that of a woman?" Siding with the twerp made the unsettling feeling in his body to gurgle.
Sakura faulted, green eyes wide. She straightened and took a step back. "You don't really believe that do you?"
Aizen matched her shocked eyes, slowly roaming over her cheeks and chin and then her lips. He breathed out softly, vaguely noticing the drumming numbness of his headache. He forced himself to lift his gaze to her green eyes once more. He honestly didn't know what to say but a more diplomatic response was needed, no doubt.
"Everyone's entitled to their own opinions, Sakura." He noted that she clenched her fists and her eyebrows suddenly knitted inwards again. "But perhaps I only say that as I have never actually engaged with a woman before that resulted in her pregnancy."
Sakura's expression of anger eased away as she soaked in his words, and he felt safer knowing that her fist was slowly uncurling. "That's true." And she sighed, taking a step back and inhaling in relief. "Well, we should start this mission, don't you think?"
Aizen nodded, hands checking for his small backpack. "Indeed."
And his headache returned.
Those memories only served to hinder his thoughts. He cursed the fact that he could miraculously remember them, and the fact that the simple recall of them was able to draw a glimmer of anger from him.
Yet he felt on top of the world now. He knew what he wanted, what he thought, what he felt. He knew everything exactly, the complete opposite to back then where he was confused to hell about what he was thinking.
So naive. So innocent. So gentle. So clueless to what was about to happen.
His brown eyes spared a single look to both men beside him, and as he wandered back to the defenceless woman, cuffed before him, he again found himself lost for words.
There was so much he wanted to say but found that the words would just not topple off his tongue.
Only her...
They had been in Ame for roughly four weeks, and in that time Aizen had noticed that those strange, black fits he had frequently in Konoha and other missions were at a low. He couldn't help but wonder if it was because of Sakura, if her simple presence was like a sort of healing beacon. The thought was ludicrous and somehow annoying.
He watched her, as he should being her guard, but a guard probably shouldn't be watching her as thoroughly as he was, considering she was more than capable of taking care of herself. Aizen realised, more and more, that he felt warm whenever he was beside her, talking to her. His smiles felt more genuine than fake, and he began to feel oddly adverse whenever on his own.
It was damning!
No ninja should be so latched to a person. Love, sure, was fine he guessed, but Aizen couldn't help but note that his feelings for Sakura were leaning more towards obsession as the days dragged on.
They shared a room and he gave her privacy when needed, but made sure to listen in just to make sure she wouldn't leave or that she wouldn't get hurt or something. When he caught himself doing that, he left the hotel in a fit, taking out his confusion on a long walk, only to have those dark thoughts return. So he went back to see her ready for their mission again. The dark thoughts were smothered.
And they walked to the hospital. He'd stay, eyes like a hawk through his glasses, as she healed and taught basic principles to the staff. He'd twitch and shift if a man so much as spoke to her, and all the while, he appeared normal, like he wasn't troubled.
Illusions.
He responded nicely to women, helped elderly folk and kept his eye on Sakura, thinking about what she was doing even when he was teaching the basics at the pathetic Ninja Academy in Ame. These ninja were unskilled. A select few did show some promise, though, and he opted to helping them more due to a better foreseeable future, but he also gave some mild tips to the others to be fair.
And as the days wore on, as those four weeks drifted to five, and then six, Aizen began to feel his obsession for Sakura grow a little more out of control.
He didn't touch her. He chose not to sleep, preferring to watch her sleep instead.
The nice, gentle man was slowly shifting into different regions.
Illusions.
But these illusions were beginning to crack when Sakura had caught on to him. He panicked, but the panic morphed into a different view. She was concerned for him. And what did that mean? It meant that she had feelings, of some sort, for him too.
Occasionally his thoughts would wander back home, and he'd spend some time trying to figure out why he was thinking about that project sitting in his room; incomplete, but well on its way.
"Master Aizen! Master Aizen!"
The brunette shinobi paused in his walk to see one of his little untrained underlings skipping up to him, a beam on the small child's face.
Like usual, he smiled. It was real, wasn't it?
"Good morning, Eikichi," he responded, squatting down to the boy's height and placing a hand on his black ruffled locks. "Ready for training?"
The child nodded excitedly. "But hey! Can you please teach me something new and different today?" he pleaded in a harsh whisper.
Aizen chuckled. "You? Just you? Not your friends too?"
Eikichi pouted and crossed his arms, staring angrily at something in his peripheral vision. "I need to get stronger than them. They don't need it."
"I don't know..."
"Please!" The boy's face switched to puppy-dog eyes as he begged.
Aizen thought. It was something that would hinder Naruto, right? So, why not?
"Sure."
"Yes!"
"Aizen? What are you doing?"
He traced the line of her jaw with a finger, mouth open in curiosity as he followed the movement with his gaze, then flickered up to her pink lip and surprised green eyes. He curled his hand, fingers underneath her chin and his thumb gripping the tip lightly, holding her head in placed.
Somehow, someway, he had backed her against the wall of their room and placed his free hand beside her head, restricting her movements. She didn't react in hostility but she was slowly narrowing her eyes at him.
But... she had feelings for him right?
Right. She does. Just drink in it.
And as Aizen slowly lowered his head to brush his lips over hers, as he felt heat slowly pool in his body and smother the confusion and anger he felt for their previous topic of Naruto, a sudden and sharp pain stung his cheek and he blinked slowly. Exhaling, he brought his brown eyes back to Sakura's heated green ones, stepping back only a little, not removing his hand beside her head. She did that for him, shoving his arm out of the way as she stormed to the bathroom.
Aizen was confused, rubbing his stinging cheek tenderly. She wanted a kiss, didn't she? He was sure she did. He was convinced that she had the right feelings for him. So why did she reject him? Was it a ploy? Was she leading him on?
He frowned, feeling anger gurgle within his chest as his thoughts swarmed around that particular reason. It had to be the reason. It had to be!
Then again, maybe he was in the wrong. He might have read the wrong signs and acted at the wrong time. Maybe later she would accept him.
And as Aizen slowly drifted to his bed, the heat of the slowly diminishing anger remained in his chest, as though wanting him to remain enraged with her, that she wasn't necessary for him to live.
But she was.
Sakura rolled in her bed, shifting into different positions to try and get back some sleep she had lost over the past month and a half. It was too difficult though, because her mind kept going back towards what had happened the night before.
Aizen had tried to kiss her and in her surprise and fear for the situation, she reacted with a harsh slap before retreating to the bathroom, only to emerge later to see him sound asleep in his bed, blankets covering his muscular form. She still felt the buzz of adrenaline, and even now, the next morning, that adrenaline remained in her veins, hence why she couldn't get comfortable.
Groaning in frustration and glaring at Aizen's back in jealousy – how was he able to sleep like a baby while she was lying there suffering from sleep deprivation?! – before tossing off the blankets and gliding off of her bed to a stand. The cold wooden floorboards gave her a wakeup call and she was sorely tempted to just crawl back into bed.
A shower.
A shower was good.
She grabbed her towel and headed for the bathroom again, this time for a purpose. And as she bathed, the water running over her slightly scarred body, she wondered how she would strike up a proper conversation with Aizen. She hadn't meant to slap him but she was scared and he was awfully up front. Furthermore, she didn't see him like that and thus felt awkward about how to deal with the situation.
One thing was for sure, and that was that she'd tell no one.
Sakura sighed, resting her head on the walls of the shower, relaxing into the water that melted her knotted nerves.
She couldn't wait to go home.
Aizen listened to the shower, listened to the pelting droplets of water that caressed her body – his fingers flexed.
What Sakura didn't know, however, was that he was awake all through the night, listening to her breathing and grunts of irritation as she tossed and turned, trying to sleep. How she didn't know he was awake, he didn't know but honestly didn't care.
He sat up, reaching for his glasses and sliding them on into place before shuffling back against the wall, resting against it. He bent his knee, placing a wrist on it as he bowed his head, trying to regain more sane thoughts.
In that time, the shower turned off, Sakura dressed – he listened – and she entered the room, pausing hesitantly at the door of the bathroom.
Aizen tilted his head to the side to take her in. Long pink hair, damp and no longer in its usual braid but rather let go and dripping water slowly. Her fringe clung to her cheeks, which were a rosy red from the steam of the hot shower. Her work clothes clung to her, as she probably didn't dry herself properly, and she held the towel and pyjama's in her arms. She tossed them onto her bed.
"Mind telling me what last night was about?" she asked as she readied a hair tie and started to part her locks into three.
"What happened last night?" Aizen responded calmly, his eyes watching her every movement as she twisted the three sections alternatively.
Sakura narrowed her eyes. "Aizen. You know exactly what happened last night. Don't hide it."
He stretched, neck cracking. "My apologies." Best to avoid complications.
Illusions.
"It was a long day and I was half-dead with tire. I did not mean to advance on you, Sakura."
She sucked on the inside of her cheek, regarding him carefully. She let it slide, it seemed, as she had nodded. Aizen felt that she didn't buy it.
"Are you going to have a shower too?"
He nodded.
Another day.
"I'd like to thank you for your help here in Ame," the wrinkle-faced old man said, bowing in honour. "It has been greatly appreciated, and with your knowledge now spread amongst our numbers, our city can begin to try and thrive."
Aizen listened, as did Sakura beside him. The mission was finally coming to a close after three months; three months of both torture and bliss.
The current spokesperson of Ame continued to thank them and told them they were more than welcome to return to check up on their progress, to which Sakura responded with a smile, telling him that the Hokage – his stomach clenched – would appreciate that.
Just as they were about to leave, their backpacks on their person, watered and fed, a man entered the room from one of the side doors. And he spoke, loud enough for the two Konoha ninja to hear. "We still need to find a new village leader, sir."
Aizen paused in his step, contemplating.
That seemed way too good to be true. Perfect timing in fact.
"Aizen?"
He blinked, regaining reality, and looked to Sakura, her green eyes worried but cautious. "Yes?"
"Are you okay?"
"Oh, yes." He smiled.
She sighed in relief. "Oh good. You suddenly stopped and I thought you were feeling sick or something."
He chuckled. "Feeling sick has hardly stopped me, Sakura."
"No," she pouted. "Only when you're bed-ridden in the hospital though."
Anger. Spurred.
Blood.
Slice, slice.
Pain.
Feels... good.
More, more, more.
Chuckle.
More, more... more.
Laughter.
Blood. Pain.
...
Smile.
His heart pounded ferociously against his ribcage as a flurry of emotions swamped him, emotions he couldn't even remember feeling. He felt a hint of them, but never to that extent.
"Aizen?"
The pounding of his beating organ reverberated in his ears as he caught Sakura's call. He shook his head, felt a hand on his shoulder, and then lifted his head to meet her gaze again; a smile was natural to his face.
"What do you think about me being the village leader? Sounds tempting."
She looked sceptic but decided to humour him. "Ne, if you do that then the hospital would be lonely."
Aizen chuckled. "I'm sure I'm just a thorn in the staff's side."
"Naw, don't say that. As soon as we get back they'd be rushing to you to see if you have any wounds," she beamed, giving him thumbs up. That was a hint for them to keep moving. She continued to walk but Aizen only took a few steps outside the door before he stopped again. Sakura returned to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I can't see you being a leader, Aizen."
He narrowed his eyes for a fraction of a second before he let his casual smile return to his face. He soaked in her touch on his skin, relishing in the moment; he was also wanting to push her away at the same time.
Why doesn't she think that he could be a leader?
He could show her.
"Don't worry. I won't leave."
And Sakura sighed in relief, wrapping her fingers and his elbow and tugging him along. "Come on! I'm dying to get home!"
He could show her.
The silence wore on. Ichimaru and Tousen remained silent as well, but no doubt edgy, trying to wonder why he continued to just glare at the woman instead of harming her or killing her. He hadn't uttered a word.
The two former Captains shared a look, confusion etched into their faces, but they didn't say anything.
They waited.
After all, he was their leader.
There. It was done.
One month after returning to Konoha and Aizen had finally finished his project. One month of smiles and nods and other menial necessities to appease the outside world but it was worth it.
He gently placed the polished weapon into a pre-made stand atop his desk.
A katana.
He had been making a katana for the past two months – excluding the missions in between – without really realising he was doing it. He had started to notice, however, when he sharpened the point of the metal, melded it into a desired state, and added more flavour to it in the handle.
He caressed the flat edge of the blade almost lovingly, and as he did, he dubbed it. He named it, "Kyoka Suigetsu."
What he heard in Ame continued to linger in his mind, just like the dark thoughts continued to consume. He couldn't take it anymore.
He grew tired of the repetitive days, the droning lectures, the boring people, and most of all, the fact that Sakura was ignoring him. It did hurt but he figured, innocently, that she needed her space just like everyone else did once in a while.
And give her space, he would.
Taking only Kyoka Suigetsu with him, Aizen left for Ame, intent on proving Sakura that he could be a leader and be damn good at it.
He didn't leave a notice.
"I see you've been keeping up those same illusions, Aizen," her weak, crackly voice flooded the massive room, making her seem even smaller and frail in comparison. She didn't look to care, just kept her sympathetic gaze on the man before her.
The tips of his lips twitched at the comment, like he was scoffing at the comment but couldn't be bothered making a sound or doing the action.
She frowned, shivering in the cold room.
"Indeed."
She was distraught that he'd pull a stunt like that, especially since she remembered crystal clear that he wouldn't leave. The liar. Regardless of his reasoning, she was pretty damn hurt by the fact that he just up and left without so much as a note. There was evidence that he was making something in his room, on his desk, but whatever he made seemed to be no longer in the house after a thorough search, since nothing else in there suited the waste he left.
It made Sakura wonder what the heck he was up to.
Maybe it wasn't such as good idea to avoid him; not that she'd admit it. She was just a little awkward walking with him, since he had started to evoke a different and more unsettling aura now, that it made her hair stand on edge.
And that almost kiss.
It kept coming back to her. Yes, truthfully, she did wonder what it would feel like to kiss someone like him, further making her wonder what would have followed swiftly next if she complied.
She shivered.
She was glad, though, that it didn't get that far. She couldn't picture herself sleeping with Aizen, as nice as he may be. There were charming aspects about him, but on the whole he just didn't seem to suit what she liked in men.
She was perplexed honestly.
He was a complicated character; unpredictable, sly, cunning, features that she both feared and revered. And she couldn't help but wonder what he was planning to put those attributes to use for.
"Sakura." Said pinkette pivoted, meeting Naruto's troubled expression. "Nothing?" She shook her head and he sighed.
Aizen had been missing for two weeks.
"This has never happened to me before," Naruto said, scratching the back of his neck anxiously. Sakura bowed her head.
"You've always managed to appease all the ninja and villagers that no one ever had a reason to leave. You haven't failed anyone, Naruto, so don't even think on it," she tried to reason.
His blue eyes stared into hers. "If there is no sign of him in two more days, then he'll be listed as a missing-nin." Sakura tried not to show any sign of emotion to that choice, mainly because it was understandable. Naruto had already tried to keep the title lifted off of Aizen's back as much as possible as it was, considering the newly-formed council were hounding him about it.
Someone up there must have heard them, because at that moment a messenger approached them, hair in a mess, out of breath, and wielding a thick envelope. "Hokage!" he called through deep breaths. "This is for you, from Ame."
Naruto widened his eyes at the sound of the village, and so did Sakura but for a different reason. She quickly narrowed them, glaring at the ground heatedly. You didn't.
"Holy Ramen!" Naruto screamed.
Sakura jumped, hands reaching for her kunai but quickly realising she didn't need to at Naruto's expression. "What is it?" she asked hurriedly, hands clinging to his sleeve as she tried to take a look at the letter; her friend side with the Hokage had taken over.
Naruto, after a few seconds, responded. "Aizen is officially the new leader of Ame."
Sakura's blood went cold.
She had a feeling that that was a very bad thing.
"Oh, come now, Sakura," Aizen purred, tapping his finger tips on the wooden armrest of the chair rhythmically. His brown eyes glazed over her almost lazily that it sent chills up her spine and she stared back at him hotly, concern sliding through beneath that had him frowning.
Pitiful. He didn't need the concern.
Wait. Yes, he did it. The concern she showed was evidence that she still felt something for him, right? He had thought that almost exactly before. It felt true. It looked true.
"Calm down," he responded again, casually.
"I will not calm down, Aizen." She approached him cautiously, fully aware that the two were alone in a meeting room. He raised an eyebrow, eyes watching her closely, lingering on her thighs and hips before flickering to her shoulders. His lips parted; it got difficult to breathe as heat accumulated in his abdomen.
"Why not? I proved you wrong, Sakura. I am a leader. I made it. I govern Ame."
She snapped. "That's exactly why I won't calm down!" Aizen narrowed his eyes. "Something is wrong with you."
"I am more than fine, Sakura."
"No, you're not!"
He stood sharply, causing Sakura to flinch. She knew now; knew now that he was like a ticking time bomb, a bomb that she had to cut the wires for carefully. If only she had realised it sooner.
He said nothing, lazily yanking off his black rimmed glasses and blinking at her almost childishly. She tensed. And as he dropped the spectacles to the floor, he shaded his face and raked his hand back over his head, forcing his fringe to settle back. Then he opened his eyes and peered contently at her, a single lock dangling before his nose as he gazed upon her almost hungrily and roamed over her toned and muscled physique.
Sakura felt warning bells go off in her mind at Aizen's gesture – I thought he was blind! –and felt the bells ring harder as he tilted his head downwards so that his distinct brown eyes seemed to penetrate her soul. He looked vicious. Hungry. Scary.
Dominating.
She took a simple step back, only to blink and see him gone. Panic bubbled and pain throbbed in her stomach as Aizen strongly flung her to the back of the room. She hit the stone walls hard, air hitching in her throat, and she gasped out a whine, dazedly sliding to the floor. His steady footsteps echoed in her mind. She stumbled to a rise and readied herself.
Looking him in the eyes made her shudder, so she stared at his shoes. Her fingers and feet tingled, adrenaline rushing through her veins, but she was entirely not ready when she was, once again, pushed up against the wall, this time his hand clenching at her throat.
Sakura gagged, biting her bottom lip to not let out a sound. And then she felt it. She could feel Aizen place butterfly kisses along her exposed collar bone, arching around her neck to give a smattering of the kisses at her nape. It tickled, but disgust overcame that, and she began to struggle, pushing against his imposing body. He fought against her as well; only he was winning, managing to flatten her against the wall with ease.
Air lodged in her throat and her knees grew weak when his free hand gripped her hip firmly and then rode upwards, his palm bunching up her shirt as his hand ascended. His hand wrapped around her throat loosened, beginning to cup the side of her face as he licked at her skin.
Reaction. She wanted to react but not in the way he wanted. She wanted to push him off, even as his lips slowly began to arch over her jaw and cheek; his breath whispered in her ear.
"Stop," Sakura growled weakly, hands on his chest, ready to push. She did, and nothing. She furrowed her brow, urging chakra to her hands.
Maybe this'll—
Aizen roughly grabbed her hands and collected them into one of his own, forcing them above her head. He caressed her nose with his, brown eyes never leaving green. "You've been sending me signs, Sakura," he said coarsely. "And now you say you don't want this?"
Sakura jumped at the opportunity to get him off of her without harming him. "I never gave you signs, Aizen!" she shouted in his face, anger beginning to spill.
Confusion mirrored in his eyes and she felt a pang of guilt briefly when she saw him searching her eyes for any signs of lies. "But—"
But she didn't stop. She wanted out.
"I never liked you in that way, Aizen!"
Recognition hit the brunette ninja like a weight of bricks dropping. His grip didn't lessen, instead it seemed to tighten and worry began to fill Sakura once more. She thought that would have made him back off but... She let out a breathless sob. It didn't seem to work.
She watched with fear as the warmth in his brown eyes, warmth that she did love looking into, hardened into stone. His face seemed to age slightly, like though he had gone through hell and back, and she winced when he pressed her hands harder into the wall.
"I always thought so," he said, his voice startling deeper, all sign of his gentler self completely erased from his tone. "I always knew you didn't love me. I told myself that, over and over, but I leeched to you, hoping that it was wrong."
Sakura was getting scared under the scathing gaze of her former friend.
"I always wondered why I never thought dark thoughts when I was near you. And I always wondered why I got so wounded when I was skilled in fighting, why I felt things I normally wouldn't have felt. I wondered whether or not how I acted around everyone was genuine, while I was also telling myself that it was all an act. It's not all because of you, Sakura. It's a lot of other things as well. Like, Naruto." He pressed even harder against the wall, her bones aching in pain as slowly they were being crushed. "He got to a place that I wanted to be at. Him. A brat. I soon realised I despised him."
"Ai—"
"Yes. Love." He sighed, a cruel and fixated smile on his lips. "Aizen. My last name. It has love in it." His eyes darkened. "And where's yours?"
Fear flashed across her eyes. Where did he go? The man she was friends with? Was he even there? Was he ever there? "Wh-Who are you?"
"I'm Sōsuke Aizen." He leaned in. "Your leader." He crushed his mouth against hers and she whined, eyes wide, trying desperately to look for an escape.
She sealed her lids together, scrunching up her nose, trying to get rid of the feel of him against her, and then she swiftly kneed him in the gut. He gasped, loosening her hands for long enough for her to slip them free and retreat away from him. Panting on the other side of them, holding and massaging her hands, Sakura watched Aizen carefully, annoyed that he was between her and the exit. She doubted he'd let her leave without a fight anyway. She steeled herself.
Aizen quickly recovered and straightened, jaw tight and tilting his head to both sides before turning to the now ready kunoichi. Her fists were raised, clothed in her signature black gloves. Her green eyes were hard, narrowed solely on him, and her chest heaved as she breathed.
It was a fight.
He sprung forward, disappearing from her view. Her neck tingled and she ducked, dodging a strong swipe from a sharpened blade. Her eyes took in the shape of a katana that he wielded above her. Dropping a hand behind her, she rounded her leg along the ground, aiming to knock him off his feet. He was quick though, and with ease he lifted a foot and stopped the attack smoothly, rolling her shin under his feet and then slamming it onto the ground harshly. Sakura gasped, her leg now twisted uncomfortably.
Tensing her body, she saw that he was readying his new katana to impale her from above and she hooked her foot with his ankle and pulled herself into him, dislodging his foot and narrowly evading the attack. With no hesitation, Sakura slammed her free foot onto the ground, charged chakra to her fist and shot up right in front of Aizen, her crackling fist whizzing past his chin as he titled his head back to dodge.
It was a blur.
Somehow he had managed to catch her other hand that was zoning in on his neck. Time seemed to freeze as he stared at her, his teeth grounding together in disappointment.
The next thing she knew, blood was shooting from her lips as she smashed into the wall behind her, her stomach screaming in agony.
"Fu—!" Sakura gasped, eyes clenched as she began to slide to the floor again. She opened her eyes just in time to see Aizen spring towards her, and without another thought, she lifted her foot and buried it into his gut, sending him flying and crashing into the chair he was seated arrogantly in before.
Sakura wheezed as she clenched a hand over her stomach. Blood began to dribble from her lips but she ignored it, steeling herself again. Breathing hurt but she'd have to endure it.
Without wasting another second, she infused chakra to her feet and ran up the wall, joining onto the ceiling, readying a fist. Her green eyes zeroed in on his rising form and she urged herself to go faster, and faster when—
A chuckle. "Nice try, Sakura."
She widened her eyes, only to be staring suddenly into cold brown ones.
This—this position! They were in it moments before! Meaning that...
Sakura bit her lip. Genjutsu. Shit.
"I am a genjutsu expert, Sakura. You should know that," his voice rumbled in her ear.
Yes, she did, but she could still win. They were at a stalemate at the moment. He had her hand captured in his own, her fingers pointed towards his neck, while the rest of their limbs were free; one of his, though, was wielding that katana.
"Don't be upset."
This was just going to go on and on, wasn't it? He didn't want to kill her, she could feel it in her blood, but she did not want to resort to whatever he planned for her. It just wasn't going to happen. In the end, Sakura knew what she had to do, and that was to get rid of him, no matter how much it pained her.
Her friend, the man she once knew, was no longer in control. He was gone; slipped into insanity. So she was more than prepared to give him a final send off.
She was surprised at her audacity. She didn't even see or feel herself move until her spare hand had drilled through Aizen's chest, next to his heart. His eyes widened, his face flecked with blood, just like hers. She felt her heart beat as he tried to formulate some kind of sentence but no doubt the pain drew away from that and he gasped, blood dribbling down his chin.
He released her hand from his grasp as his body grew heavy, starting to collapse to the cobblestone floor. The pinkette made a sound, something akin to a sob, and she yanked her hand out of Aizen's chest and watched him fall onto his back, his hands touching tenderly around the hole as though coaxing his skin to close, to heal. He gurgled on his blood, his body pushing upwards as he struggled to breathe.
All the while Sakura watched with tears in her eyes, her hand stained with crimson red and dripping readily to the floor. Her legs gave in and she collapsed before his feet. She dropped her head, wanting nothing more than to cover her face and cry but finding herself unable to.
"Yo-You—" Aizen sucked in little air, his voice raspy that she barely caught it even in the silence. Sakura listened. "You-You be-betra...yed..." Another gasping and heart-wrenching intake in. "...me."
And in those words, as his breathing simmered to nothing, Sakura realised with a startling revelation that her friend, the Aizen she knew, had not actually been gone.
She grabbed her head tightly, weaving her fingers into her hairline and dropped her head into her lap to scream.
He damned her. Cursed her. Cursed his weakness. Cursed his foolishness in letting his obsession with her to peak. He was wrecked, struggling to survive in this wicked place, this forest. It reminded him all too much of Konoha's forest. Despite his overflowing anger and hate, he was confused. He was sure he was killed but yet he appeared in a green, lush forest; he'd rather prefer seeing it burned and scorched.
Days passed and Aizen felt his body get heavy, weak from sustenance. He was hungry, bloody, and all too ready to just pass on, so why couldn't he?
Days turned into weeks as he travelled aimlessly, until, at last, he heard the sound of life, the sounds of hustle and bustle like on the streets of his old home. A village. He approached it slowly, cautiously, watching the humans interact. He didn't care if the place was run down; it was still a village, and a village meant food and water and rest, three things he needed badly – besides revenge.
He exposed himself, walking onto the streets in the clothes he died in, stained in blood and dirt. They stared but did not run, something he was inwardly surprised about but was glad for.
"Oh. Poor you," an elderly woman cooed as she grabbed her husband's sleeve and yanked him over to Aizen. She examined Aizen's clothes, hands on her hips, before she met his gaze. "You must have had a bloody death," she remarked casually.
Aizen smiled. This seems familiar. "You could say that."
She shook her head, sighing. "Come on, follow me. I'll get you cleaned up before you know it." Aizen bowed his head in thanks.
"You are most generous."
"Ahh, a way with words," the old woman beamed, baring her yellowing and crooked teeth. "Daisuke, hold my bag. We're heading back home," she said to her husband beside her who was looking the brunette former-ninja up and down.
And just as easily, Aizen continued with his old ways. Smiling. Helping. Facade's.
Illusions.
Lies.
From ninja, to leader. From peasant, to Captain. From shinigami, to demi-god.
"Time hasn't treated you kindly," Aizen said at last, stopping his pacing and standing in front of the old woman. He kneeled before her, surprising Ichimaru and Tousen, and gently cupped her wrinkled cheek in his young, tanned hand.
The woman didn't react but her tired eyes of green resigned to a weak narrow glare. Aizen chuckled.
"You haven't changed," he spoke, lips hovering over hers. He could feel his dominance engulf her but it wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to remove it. Remove her. All links.
And with that final thought, he thrust his katana, Kyoka Suigetsu, through her thin body, watching and relishing in her pain as she gasped. She started to drop but he hardened his hold on her, grasping under her chin so that he could stare into her dull green eyes as life began to leave her, so that the last thing she'd see would be him, her demise.
He'd at least give her that honour.
"Sakura."