Forever My Lieutenant

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Aizen loved his throne. It was the seat of his power, the symbol of his success. He loved to pass judgment from its pure white embrace. There was something invigorating about knowing he held someone existence in his hands as he towered, unaffected, above them. Even when he wasn't passing judgment, Aizen's throne made him feel like a god.

Aizen loved being with his Epsada. They were creatures of horrible power. Born in darkness, fear, and hate they were ruthless and they were Aizen's. Without Aizen they'd have continued they're miserable dark existence in a miserable dark world, unable to become what they were meant to be. More than their obedience, Aizen loved it when they were disobedient. It is a sweet thing to bring a proud powerful being to their knees without moving an inch.

Aizen loved his large white bed. It was the softest thing he'd ever slept on. It engulfed him like light fluffy snow. Unlike the cold snow, however, the bed was as warm as a lazy summer afternoon. He'd always hated the hard cold futons he'd slept on in the Soul Society anyway.

But his love for all these things paled next to his love for his vice-captain. Unfortunately for Aizen, his vice-captain was the one thing he no long had. He'd died so that Aizen could live. It was odd for Aizen, this aloneness. From his earliest childhood Aizen had never been alone. The gifted only child to a well-to-do family, he'd always been loved. Now he was feared, respected, hated, worshiped, but not loved. And it was lonely.

Aizen was a god in name, but not in power. He had no way to bring back a fallen shinigami, but that's why he had a subordinate who could do the impossible. After the key had been made Aizen had entered the heavens with Gin's body cradled in his arms flanked by his most powerful Espada.

Now Gin's body lay in Aizen white bed covered only by a thin sheet held in suspended animation using the same demon magic used on gigai. On either side of the bed stood Aizen and Orihime, both had their eyes fixed on Gin's uncovered, unsmiling face. Orihime's eyes were red from crying and hollow from having run out of tears.

"It won't work." Her voice was raw and shaky; she'd seen people she loved die in vain at this man's feet while she was kept safe away from the battle.

"You tread were only the gods are allowed to walk. You can do it." Aizen said, smiling his charming smile.

"No I can't. I've tried." Aizen raise his eyebrow, "Ichi- Ichigo… Ichigo died. I tried… I tried to- to bring him back and I only got… got… got a body… but… but not a-a soul." Aizen sneered lightly.

"Unlike Ichigo Gin has something to come back to." Orihime shock her head.

"I'm not asking you girl. As I recall some of your friends were more fortunate then Ichigo, wouldn't you like them to remain so fortunate?" His voice was cold now, and Orihime swallowed.

"Sōten Kisshun." Was her only response, and little fairies stretched an orange bubble over Gin's covered body. When the fairies returned Aizen and Orihime waited attentively and the body stirred. Eyes the color of fragile unbroken robin's eggs, but so much more powerful and frozen fluttered open.

"Aizen-tachio." The whisper was soft, delicate, like a name spoken in a hushed tone to a lover late at night.

"Welcome back, Gin." Aizen said smiling down at his vice-captain, but something was wrong those stunning eyes weren't closing and no smile tugged at those thin long lips.

"Aizen-tachio." The words were more stable this time, but they seemed cold, automatic. Aizen looked down at his vice-captain, and noticed how empty Gin's eyes were like whatever had lived there was gone now.

"Aizen-tachio." The voice was still Gin's but it was robotic now, and as the body sat up there was no life in its eyes.

"No soul." Orihime whispered, and Aizen glared at her.

"You're dismissed." He said coolly, Orihime nodded at walked towards the door, but stopped on the way out.

"Be thankful Aizen, you got back more than I did. There is nothing in Ichigo but a pumping heart." Aizen looked at her.

"Is? He's not dead then?"

"Will you kill Ichimaru? Even if it's only his body?" Aizen gave Orihime a thoughtfully look and she left as he turned back to Gin. He reached out traced Gin's emotionless lips with his thumb. Had Gin himself returned to the body that wouldn't have been necessarily safe, Gin loved to nip, but this doll remained perfectly still. Aizen withdrew his hand.

"Aizen-tachio." The doll said again.

Aizen survived the doll coolly. It was Gin in many ways, beautiful like a delicate crane with lines cold and sharp like an icicle. It's was voice was very similar to Gin's rich and smooth, but it lacked that teasing laughter that had always lived in Gin.

The most noticeable difference was the eyes. The very fact that they were visible was odd in and of itself, but they lack something. Gin's eyes had opened mainly in passion. The bloody red of battle and the pure blue of ecstasy had opened them, but now they sat open and nothing stirred in them.

Will you kill Ichimaru? Orihime question rang through the silent room. I got a body, but not a soul. That's what Aizen had, a body that had belonged to someone who loved him enough to die, and who even in death remained loyal enough to remember his name even when everything else was forgotten.

Will you kill Ichimaru? The room rang with the question. Would he kill Gin? Could he? He looked at the doll before. Gin's hands. Gin's mouth. Gin's body. Gin's eyes, but it wasn't Gin. Unfortunately Aizen wouldn't listen to himself. He should draw his blade and run it through Gin, and they lay his body down to sleep, but what if the doll could be induced to become Gin? What if the body could be taught to make the mind remember? Yes he should kill this doll, but instead he pulled him close.

"Welcome home Gin, my lieutenant."