Hey, a Merry Christmas from this evil mind of mine~! I had to make this for a class, so I figured I'd be nice and just upload it for everyone else to enjoy. (The prompt was to modernise the play, 'A Christmas Carol,' and there weren't many guidelines, so I used Bleach as my starter.)

Happy Holidays~!

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or A Christmas Carol.

A Bleached Christmas

By Kouzumi93

Las Noches, the great white palace that stood in the middle of a pure white desert known as Hueco Mundo, had finally reached the twenty-fifth day of the month of December. This date was known to most as Christmas, but the ruler of the palace couldn't care less about it. In fact, he felt as if the year would do just fine without it.

The reason: some idiot decided to put in a suggestion to perform a Christmas play, and it somehow got approved. Even worse—it turned out to be a collaborative effort with those in the Seireitei, the arch enemies of the palace. The worst part was that he, the king of Las Noches, Aizen Sousuke, had been cast as the main character.

Ebenezer Scrooge. (Although, the cast had decided to go on just using their own names so as not to confuse everyone else.)

"Aizen-sama, it's almost time." Aizen's fourth Espada, Ulquiorra Cifer, called through the door of his dressing room. Said man had also been forced into the play, but it didn't seem to bother him as much.

"Yes, I'll be right there." Aizen pulled on a hat and left the room. "Bah, Humbug." He muttered as he walked, though whether he was practicing his lines or otherwise was not known.

"Merry Christmas, Uncle!" Exclaimed Ukitake Juushiro, the apparent nephew. The roles looked to be a bit off, what with Ukitake being the one who looked old and Aizen the young one, but their personalities seemed to be perfect for their casting.

"Bah, Humbug."

"Don't say that! Christmas is the best time of the year for giving and receiving!"

"I have no desire to receive anything, nor to give anything."

"Now I'm the one who must say 'Bah, Humbug.' Uncle, everyone wants something. What do you want?"

"You're right, there is something I want."

"What is it?" Ukitake asked eagerly.

"I want you to get out of my office and take all of this holiday cheer with you!"

"I will leave, Uncle, when you agree to join my wife and I to a party tomorrow night."

"I'm not going to a stupid party!" Aizen began to fume, not exactly acting, either. "Now get out!"

"But—"

"Gin! Come in here and take this creature out of my sight!"

"Ah, yes sir!" A muffled voice called out. After a moment, the door to Aizen's office was flung open, and in stepped a shabby-looking, silver-haired man that went by the name of Ichimaru Gin. He put a hand on Ukitake's shoulder. "C'mon. Let's go."

The two began to leave, but Ukitake was not yet done. "Do join us, Uncle!"

"Never!"

"Merry Christmas, then! And a—" This last comment was cut short by Aizen slamming the door in his face. He then sat down at his desk, working on some papers that were actually blank. Soon, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" Aizen set his pen down and stood as the poor employee came back in. "What do you want?"

"Well, I was wonderin' if I would be permitted ta have tomorrow off...?"

Aizen appeared to think about this for a moment, then responded. "Whatever. But you won't be paid, and I expect you to be back here bright and early the day after."

"Yes, sir. Then, kin I leave early today, too?"

"If you don't mind losing some pay, then yes."

Ichimaru looked dejected, but brightened immediately. "Thank you, Aizen-sama. I'll be leavin' now." He refrained from using a certain holiday greeting and soon left the office again.

A while later, Aizen himself exited the stage, waiting in the wings while the next scene was set up. He paced around in circles, and no one dared to approach him in fear of the deadly aura he was giving off.

Whoever set this up is going to wake up in a pool of their own blood tomorrow morning. He thought morbidly, glaring at everyone who came within ten feet of him.

The next scene was beginning, and as Aizen took his place, he began working out a way to sabotage the play before it reached its planned ending.

Aizen entered the setup that was supposed to be 'his' bedroom, and he tried to look shaken up. He made himself look nervous, twitched at every sound, but he was still fuming inside.

As he sat down to a dinner of wax food, the sound of rattling chains began. This was accompanied by various 'ka-thump's, and eventually, someone emerged onto the stage. His skin was dark, his hair dark blue, and his eyes were glazed over with blindness. Thick, heavy-looking chains hung from his wrists and ankles, a large ball attached to one of his ankle-chains.

"Kaname, is that you?" Aizen asked the form warily.

"Yes, it is I." He replied, sitting down in a chair.

"But you're supposed to be dead!"

"Death is a very complicated thing, you know."

"So it would seem." Aizen shifted uncomfortably in his own chair, unsure of how to proceed. But then he came up with something. "Care for an apple?"

"Yes, thank you." The ghost reached out and took the wax fruit, actually taking a bite into it. "It's a bit...waxy..."

"It's imported. But I must ask now, since the script insists upon it, why are you here?"

"I am here to tell you that your evil ways will no longer be tolerated, and if you stay on this path, you are not going to like what you find in the life after the afterlife. Do you see how I am now, blind and bound?"

"Yes."

"Well this is how it will be for you when you die, except your chains and ball will be much bigger and heavier than mine."

"So this isn't just a depiction of what you did in your free time whilst you were alive?"

A frown and a strict 'No' were his response.

Aizen sighed at the cheesiness of the lines he had skipped over before, but had to read now. "Isn't there anything I can do to change it? To save myself—by the way, you already were blind—from such a terrible torture?"

If Tousen Kaname could glare, he would be doing so at this point. "There is, actually. I'm going to send to you three ghosts. If you can resolve your issues with them, as well as mostly follow the play script, you might find your salvation. But your efforts must be genuine, not faked."

"When will they come, these ghosts?"

"One will come four minutes from the time I leave here, the next will be three minutes after the first has gone, and the final one will be two minutes after the second leaves. One minute after the third has performed his duties, the first two will return to assess your situation."

"Wait, that last part isn't in the script!" Aizen declared, standing up abruptly.

"Neither was giving me a wax apple." Tousen also rose and went to the window. "I'm going to leave now. Good luck, Aizen-sama."

Then he was gone, and Aizen glanced at the broken clock for the time. He paced around the stage and, sure enough, four minutes brought with it the first of the ghosts. This one was short, maybe somewhere around four feet tall, and had short, spiky white hair. He wore black clothes (apparently boycotting the outfit he was supposed to be wearing), and a scowl adorned his face while his turquoise eyes bore into Aizen with a glare.

"Ah, Hitsugaya-kun, what an unpleasant surprise." Aizen addressed the child, whose scowl deepened.

"You're not supposed to know me, idiot! You guys need to stop breaking the fourth wall." He held out his hand to the much larger man. "C'mon. I guess I'm supposed to show you your past so you'll stop being such a d—" Hitsugaya Toushiro glanced into the audience as something caught his attention, glared, then turned back to Aizen. "We're going into your past. Now."

Aizen stared at the outstretched hand of the child.

"I'm not going to make any attempts to harm you. They made me sign a truce before we came." Hitsugaya muttered something under his breath, but Aizen couldn't make heads or tails of it. Instead of wondering about it, he took the boy's hand, and off they went.

Aizen was even more annoyed now. First, he had been cast into this stupid play, and now they were actually requiring him to learn something from it. Not to mention he was now supposed to get one of these lessons from a child that would readily kill him if given the chance.

To top it all off, Aizen wasn't even getting hazard pay! Heck, he wasn't getting paid at all!

This really was beginning to look like the worst Christmas ever. Especially because there wasn't even cookies in the side wings.

Then it got even worse. For Aizen's past in the play, Hinamori Momo had been cast as his little sister, which would mean a bunch of physical contact between the two, thus violating the restraining order he had against her. (Then he remembered that it was some other poor, unfortunate soul that was playing his younger self. So he didn't care anymore.)

"Brother, Father has said that you may come home for Christmas this year, and if you can behave yourself, then maybe you will be permitted to move back in with us!"

Abarai Renji, the younger Aizen, appeared giddy, jumping up and down in delight. "Finally! I've been here all alone for six years, just because I pushed Father out of the second-story window. How is he, by the way?"

"He's doing much better. He can finally speak on his own!"

"That's great news! Let's go home and celebrate! I can't wait to be home again!"

"And we can't wait to have you home, either! Let's go, brother!"

The scenery changed here to that of an old park, where Abarai, still acting as Aizen, sat with a teary-eyed Inoue Orihime on a bench.

"Sousuke," the female began, speaking to Abarai. "I'm sorry, but I must leave you."

"What? Why?"

"You've become much too greedy recently, along with your disturbing obsession to become a god."

"Obsessed with becoming a god? What are you...That's not even in the scr—" Abarai seemed to be oblivious to the recent events of the actors revealing the impossible, but Inoue cued him to shut up.

"This is the end of us. I'm sorry." With that, she stood up and left the stage, Abarai close behind her. On the side of the stage, the real Aizen stood stunned.

"I...I'm too obsessed with becoming a god? I never realized such a thing!"

"Of course you didn't, you self-centred so—" Another glance into the audience silenced the boy, if only for a moment. "I guess I'm done here. You go back to your room, and I'll be back later." He pried his hand out of Aizen's grip and the stage was flooded with darkness.

Aizen soon found himself back in his bedroom, the little ghost completely gone from sight. "Good, now I can finally relax. I still have three minutes until the next ghost makes an appearance."

But those three minutes flew by like seconds, because the door opened only a moment later. Into the room stepped the flamboyant form of Kyouraku Shunsui, his long brown hair pulled back as usual, and a hat and pink coat decorating the rest of his body.

"Hello, Aizen-san. How was your trip to the past?" Kyouraku asked, approaching the not-so-frightened man.

"It could have been better if that particular person had not been chosen as my escort, but I do have one simple question."

"What's that?"

"Who found out about me pushing my father out a window?"

"That's strictly classified."

"It was Urahara Kisuke, wasn't it?"

"Okay, maybe it's not so secret. But that's not why I'm here."

"Am I to presume that you are here to take me to see the present times of Christmas?"

"You would be right, so presume what you'd like." Kyouraku grabbed Aizen's shirt collar, and the next scene began.

"Gin, where's Yachiru-chan?" Ichimaru Gin's wife, played by Matsumoto Rangiku, asked as she began to pull out dishes for setting the table.

"She wasn't with you?" Aizen's poor worker asked, looking around the rooms for 'his' small child.

"No. Perhaps Kenpachi took her out to play again."

"That may be bad. Ah well, it's okay. They'll pro'lly be back fer dinner. What 'bout Yuzu-chan, Karin-chan, and Tatsuki-chan?"

"Tatsuki-chan had work, but I'm sure she'll be home soon. Yuzu-chan is in the kitchen cooking what little food we have." Both adults looked up as the front door opened and another child stepped in. "Karin-chan, why don't you go help Yuzu in the kitchen?"

"Alright, mother."

Gin helped Rangiku to set the table, and the twin daughters brought out the [wax] food and set it out, everyone now waiting only on the final three family members to return.

Finally, Tatsuki, Kenpachi and Yachiru came through the door at once, holding between them a small package wrapped in tin foil.

"We brought the chicken!" Exclaimed Yachiru from Kenpachi's shoulder. Said man set her down gently to the floor, and she took the small crutch handed to her. Hobbling awkwardly, the pink-haired ball of terror made her way over to her 'parents.' Gin picked her up, and the two remaining in the doorway closed the door and set the chicken on the table with the rest of the 'food.' Then everyone took their seats, and the meal began.

"I thought people are supposed to eat ham and turkey on Christmas?"

"Normally, people do, but they don't have enough money to purchase either one."

"Why not? I pay Gin a decent amount of money."

"You don't pay him anything."

"Oh, I guess I don't..." Aizen realized once he understood that they were discussing real life rather than the play. "Who would need money in this desert, anyway?"

"Him, apparently."

"...Touché."

"What's going to happen to the little girl?"

"In this play, she will be dead in a few years. In reality, she'll become a dangerous killer that bounces off the walls and breaks stuff during battles."

"But she already does that." Aizen pointed out.

Kyouraku pointed an accusatory finger at the man. "See! Look at what your evil ways have created!"

"I didn't create it, merely helped along the development."

"So it was you!"

"Aren't we supposed to be going somewhere else now?"

Without warning, the stage went black, signalling a scene change. Aizen and Kyouraku exited to the right wing of the stage, but Kyouraku wasn't going back for the next part.

'You should have learned your lesson from this already, so I'm not really needed anymore,' he had said, but it was known that he was probably just on his way to get in a few drinks before he had to come back.

Aizen stepped back into his place just before the lights came on again, not feeling quite so bad about the play as he had all day. Maybe this wouldn't turn out to be such a terrible year, after all.

The lights had returned and Aizen stood in the middle of the stage, waiting for the third and final ghost to make its appearance. He was ready for this one, for if the first one showed him his past, the second the present, then the third would have to be the future.

Aizen couldn't imagine missing such a chance to see the future.

Then the lights dimmed, and smoke rolled in from strategically placed fog machines. In from stage left came that of Ulquiorra Cifer. He was dressed in all black with a hood pulled low over his face to hide most of its features. In his right hand, he held a large scythe belonging to Nnoitra Gilga, who had unwillingly lent it to them.

"Are you the ghost of Christmas Future?" Aizen asked, finally getting back to the script.

"Perhaps I am...but perhaps I am not." Replied Ulquiorra, not on script.

"Well, whether you are or not, I'd like to get going now. There's a lesson for me to learn, so I'd prefer to hurry and get this over with as quickly as possible."

"I'm sure you would." Ulquiorra reached out and touched Aizen's chest by his heart, triggering the future scene to begin.

"Finally, that guy's been locked up in Hell!" Grimmjow Jaegerjaques pumped a fist into the air as he read the morning paper. Three 'friends' stood around him, equally pleased with the news.

"How did they catch him?" Inquired the only female of the group, Sui-Feng.

"It appears to have been a collaborative effort between Kurosaki Ichigo and Urahara Kisuke." A third by the name of Hisagi Shuuhei replied.

"Aww, Ichigo did it? That's not fair!" Grimmjow complained, but Nnoitra Gilga shoved him to the side.

"Get over it. It's not like Aizen-sama ever even made it to being a god, anyway."

Aizen, who watched this in horror, let his jaw drop. "I'm going to Hell? And those two are the ones that cause it?" He twitched. "And I don't get to be a god?"

"It looks that way, Aizen-sama. Unless you can find redemption, you're going to be spending the rest of eternity blind in Hell, carrying around a huge ball."

"Alright, alright! I'll change, I swear! I'll make my desire to be a god just a side job. I'll start paying Ichimaru, and I'll find a way to bring the dead back to life!"

The lights on the stage cut off, and when they came back on, Aizen was curled up in a little ball on the floor, shaking and muttering to himself. The first two ghosts had returned, and all three gazed down at him, unsure of what to do.

But then the first ghost violently tapped the man with his foot. Aizen jumped up and pointed a finger at him. "I thought you signed a truce?"

"I did, but no one was doing anything. And I just really wanted to kick you."

Aizen watched the child for a second, then smiled. "It's alright, Hitsugaya-kun. I forgive you."

Hitsugaya faltered. "Er, thanks, but the feeling isn't mutual."

"That's okay. It will be once you realize that I am a changed man now." Aizen turned to the second ghost. "Kyouraku, why don't we go out for drinks sometime this week? I'll treat."

"That sounds great! I'll go invite a few others, in that case." Kyouraku left, and Ulquiorra managed to slip out, too.

"Aizen, how many times are you going to break the fourth wall?" Hitsugaya, the last standing ghost, asked.

"Well, we rather broke it to the point that there is no fourth wall anymore. It's gone." Aizen turned from the child. "Gin, where are you?"

"I'm right here, Aizen-sama." The silver-haired man stepped out of the shadows. "What d'ya need?"

"I've decided that I'm going to start paying you from now on."

"Wow, really? I thought ya were jus' kiddin'."

"I don't 'kid,' Gin. I only tell the truth." Aizen responded, a playful glint in his eyes.

And so, Aizen Sousuke managed to make up with most everyone he had been on bad terms with, and it really was a very merry Christmas.

Except for Hinamori Momo, that is. When she approached the changed Aizen to give him a hug, a piece of paper was flung into her face.

"Sorry Hinamori-kun, but the restraining order still stands."

~The End~

Yeah, I do love doing oneshots, and funny stories are just a blast to write. I hope everyone enjoyed this, because I certainly did love writing it, and I'm sure my English teacher will like it as well.

Please be kind enough to drop in a review~!