For Innocence Lost
By Agent Malkere
A/N: This is a WILDLY AU version of how Aizen and Ichigo's final battle ends. But it makes me happy which was the whole point of writing it in the first place.
The battle field wasn't so much a field any more as a giant smoking crater. Tiny pieces of rubble were still pattering to the ground around the two unmoving figures – one dressed all in black, the other in white.
Aizen stared up at the sky and considered his situation. It could be worse – Kurosaki could have actually killed him with that final blow. Instead, it had somehow managed to un-merge Aizen and the hogyoku, which should not have been possible. Still, it wasn't as though that couldn't be fixed. As long as he was still alive, his plans were not done for. Speaking of alive….
A faint flicker of reiatsu guttered like a candle in a breeze some fifty feet away. So, the boy had survived the backlash of his own attack. Impressive, but without the significant intervention of a healer Kurosaki would be dead soon either way. Almost a pity really, the boy had been such an entertaining diversion.
Aizen slowly flexed his left hand. It was the only part of his body he could move at the moment. It was odd to be fully Shinigami again. So… stifling. His reiatsu was so depleted that he wouldn't even be able to perform a simple kido at the moment. He wouldn't even be able to stand on his own. Pathetic. Where was Tousen when he truly needed him? All he needed was one subordinate to help him off the field and back to Las Noches. Anyone at all would do. All he had to do was survive and he would have essentially won. Without Kurosaki on their side, Soul Society was done for. There would be no one strong enough left to stand against him. Aizen's lips quirked up in a bloody smile. It didn't matter how long it took him to complete his plans now – he had won. All he had to do was get out of this damn crater…
"Captain Aizen?" The voice drifted across the ruined earth to him like a half-forgotten dream. "Captain Aizen!" The voice was familiar, but who could it be? Aizen shifted his eyes to the right and squinted at the diminutive figure dressed in Shinigami robes scampering towards him. His smile widened just a fraction of a hair. Perfect. Sliding his most charming and innocent mask into place, Aizen let out a weak cough followed by a faint groan – just barely loud enough to reach the ears of the woman racing towards him. "Oh, captain."
Momo Hinamori slid to a stop beside her former captain, one foot accidentally kicking his fallen zanpakuto in her haste to reach him. The sword skittered through the dust and spun to a halt well out of Aizen's reach. He resisted the urge to frown. It didn't matter. This was Hinamori. He'd been grooming her for years. She would pick up the sword for him when he needed her to. She always did what he asked of her. How convenient it had turned out to be that she had managed to live after all. And that her conditioning had remained intact. How very fortunate for him.
"Mo…mo…?" he rasped, adopting the gentle tones that he had used to fool the whole of the Seireitei for decades. Hinamori fell to her knees by his side. Her hands were clasped together tightly in front of her, all but white-knuckled. Her large brown eyes shimmered with unshed tears. So spineless and weak and pathetic and blindingly loyal to the last when she'd had such potential for power. The way he'd managed to twist her own stifling self-doubt into an inescapable cage was truly a thing of beauty. Aizen coughed, for real this time, and felt blood wet his lips. "I'm so glad… you're here. …It's all gone… so… terribly wrong. I… I need your… help. I… can still save… everyone… from Ichimaru. I know how… to stop him…."
"You mean Ichimaru has been behind this all along?" she asked, her eyes widening in desperate hope. "He's been the puppet master this entire time?"
Aizen gave her the weakest of nods.
"Of course…. Why else… would I go with him? I… planned to double… cross him… as soon as I found his… weakness." He smiled his softest smile and watched tears begin to leak down her cheeks.
"Oh, Captain Aizen! I'm so sorry!" She leaned forward as if to embrace him, but stopped a hair's breath away, her lips hovering next to his ear. "But I don't believe you." Her voice was suddenly as cold and quiet and hard as thousand year old glacier ice. Aizen caught a glimpse of her eyes and they were as sharp and flat as freshly honed steel. He let out a strangled cry as her zanpakuto buried itself deep into his stomach. Hinamori stood and casually yanked her weapon free. Beads of blood slithered down her blade and dripped sluggishly from its tip.
"Momo?" Aizen wheezed. He stared at her in horror. This couldn't be happening! It just wasn't possible! He'd spent decades forming this girl into his perfect subordinate. He'd made sure that her entire world revolved around him – that she couldn't live without him!
"There is no place in Heaven for demons and false gods." Her words were quiet and solemn and spoken with absolute conviction. Hinamori raised her zanpakuto and brought it down unerringly across Aizen's neck in a killing blow. Life drained out of his body in a spreading pool of crimson blood.
A/N: Thank you for reading! I am considering including a second chapter from Momo's point of view. Would anyone be interested in reading that?
