This is just a crazy idea I had around October of 2009, and I have been hard at work at it ever since. The idea was to explain Aizen's motives for becoming the evil overlord we know him as, ans to explain his past. In the very beginning, I had planned for Aizen to have a close relationship with Urahara, but later decided that Isshin was a better choice, since we know so little about his past. NOTE: I came up with this fanfic LONG BEFORE Isshin joins the battle in FKT.

Please enjoy. ^^

Woe to those

Who spurn what goodness is

They are shown

No one mourns the wicked

The sun was slowly beginning its descent over Seireitei. The over-energetic hype and vibe from the celebration that had ensued for the past day-and-a-half was just starting to dwindle; early stragglers who had overindulged themselves sake were making their way back to their barracks, laughing and talking in obnoxiously loud voices, walking in a dazed, disoriented manner, some being supported by their less-intoxicated friends. Nobody seemed to mind that half the souls in Seireitei had drank themselves silly, and having to escort a stoned friend home was the least of anyone's worries. Nobody seemed concerned with paperwork or training at the moment, on the contrary; the day was understood to be an unofficial holiday, and the normal rules of society had been temporarily suspended.

It seemed that every soul in Seireitei and Rukongai was celebrating on this impromptu holiday, and everyone was participating in some form of festivity, from the relaxed serving of tea at the Kuchiki Mansion to the rambunctious party hosted by the Eleventh Division; cries of celebration filled the air.

Just over twenty-four hours ago, the majority of the upper-ranking court guards, (along with some former members, whom a few of the senior officers seemed to recognize) had returned to Soul Society from the fake Karakura town, eager to spread the joyous news.

The war was won.

Sosuke Aizen was dead.

At first, lower-ranking court guards had been hesitant to believe it; maybe it was a ruse, an illusion to lull them into a false sense of security, perhaps? But all wary attitude was lost as Head Captain Yamamoto stood before the court guards and announced the proclamation that seemed too good to be true: Sosuke Aizen was dead at last, and his followers were all either dead as well, or imprisoned in the Senzaikyu Shishinro and awaiting execution via Sokyoku. At last, the tyrant had fallen, and reign of fear had finally come to an end.

A small group of shinigami was gathered in a small pub on the outskirts of Juniran, the first district of West Rukongai. The pub was small enough that it was devoid of folk weaving in and out of their drunken stupor, bursting into bawdy drinking songs; and was also tucked away on a street corner, away from prying eyes.

The small group consisted of six shinigami: Ichigo Kurosaki, Renji Abarai, Ikkaku Madarame, Yumichika Ayasegawa, and Isshin Kurosaki. The six of them were gathered around a circular table, bottles of sake in hand. (Except for Ichigo, who had refused to touch the stuff.) Ikkaku and Renji were immersed in discussion of the battle tactics that had won them the war, while Yumichika listened and added a comment here and there, all whilst sipping a small glass of sake. Isshin was balanced on the edge of the conversation, neither directing it nor excluded from it. Like Yumichika, he just added a comment or an opinion every now and then. Ichigo, behaving quite unlike himself, had hardly said a word since they had returned to Soul Society. Isshin suspected he had gone into severe shock at learning his father's true identity. While most of the shock had worn off, his son was still unusually quiet and skittish, jumping at the sound of his name. Isshin found this highly amusing, and enjoyed taunting him for it.

"Anyways, as I was sayin'-" Ikkaku stopped min-sentence, a wince taking over his features.

Renji frowned. "You alright?"

"Fine," he said gruffly, flexing his bandaged shoulder where he had been injured.

"Ikkaku," Yumichika said, a note of concern in his voice. "Maybe you should be resting… your wounds haven't healed yet, and that was quite a battle… and those bandages are so unbeautiful…"

Ikkaku laughed. "You kiddin' me? That battle was great! That was the most fun I've had in a long time!" He took another swig of sake. "But," He paused. "Yumichika's right. It was one hell of a battle, eh, Renji?"

He gave Renji a hard thump between his shoulder blades, causing the redhead to choke violently on his mouthful of sake.

"I-I dunno, do I?" Renji coughed, spluttering. "I was a bit preoccupied in Hueco Mundo, if you've forgotten!"

"Ahh well, that's yer own fault, dumbass," Ikkaku said, tipping more sake into his mouth. "Oh well, its not like you would have been much help, anyway,"

Ikkaku continued to playfully belittle his former student, to which Renji's face grew more and more flushed, until it was impossible to tell where his forehead stopped and where his hairline began.

"…not like those ex-captains and Isshin here. We'd all be goners without them." He paused for a moment, the added, "Or slaves. Take your pick,"

Isshin, who had dropped his usual goofy façade for the day, looked up at the sound of his name. Ichigo too, gave a slight start at the mention of his father. Isshin smirked inwardly.

"Ehh, I dunno about that," Isshin said good-naturedly, reclining in his chair. "Bringing down Aizen was a group effort. I don't think any single person can be given all the credit,"

"Yeah, but you delivered the killing blow, so technically, you're the reason we've won the war," Ikkaku reasoned, his words becoming slightly slurred from the sake.

"Indeed, Kurosaki-san," Yumichika added. "For all we know, we could all be enslaved by Aizen's Arrancar minions by now, if not for you," He tossed his hair over his shoulder. "What an ugly prospect…" He muttered. "Aizen deserved what he got,"

"Ha! Good riddance, I say!" Renji said loudly. "That bastard had it coming-"

"I don't know," Ichigo said suddenly.

A silence fell over the table. Everyone looked up from their chatting and sake to gawk at Ichigo. Yumichika looked purely abashed, his nose wrinkled in disbelief. Isshin raised his eyebrows and looked at his son through the corner of his eye, not turning his head.

"What the hell, Ichigo?" Renji broke the silence. "This is Aizen we're talking about-"

"I know, I know!" Ichigo said defensively. "I just… I dunno if Aizen really was…I mean…I feel kinda sorry for him,"

Another awkward silence ensued, followed by Isshin voicing a single word:

"Why?"

"Well…" Ichigo shifted uncomfortably. "I just…I can't help but wonder… what kind of past that guy must have had. I mean- people aren't born evil, right? I wonder what happened to him that led him down the path of evil…"

Another awkward silence, this time broken by Yumichika, who said, "Now that's a deep philosophical question," He pondered, scratching his chin. "How did Aizen turn into such a rotten egg?"

Ikkaku and Renji exchanged glances, the two clearly trying to discern the meaning of the word 'philosophical'.

"I don' think it makes any difference," Ikkaku said crudely. "All that matters is that the bastard is dead and gone,"

And with that the conversation returned to normal, as Yumichika attempted to explain the meaning of the word 'philosophical to Ikkaku and Renji. However, Ichigo's ponderings remained etched in Isshin's mind.

"How did Aizen turn into such a rotten egg?"

Isshin leaned forwards, putting his elbows on the table. Ikkaku and Renji's persistent arguing began to fade into nothingness. He laced his fingered over his mouth and closed his eyes, losing himself in his memories.

"How, indeed…"

And so our story begins...