Bell' incubo

This dream was no different than the last.

But he had known that before his head settled on the pillow; before the familiar pull of sleep and the now-familiar feeling of suffocation set in, like he was being dragged through a black hole and crushed. He tried to fight it, as he always did, to struggle out of the Dream… But his body wouldn't obey his commands. It was frozen, and while his mind could scream for it to wake up, to move, to push out his arms until he could breathe, it wouldn't. He couldn't escape. Not from this.

Just when he thought his lungs would collapse, that he would die in his sleep with his body being crushed beyond repair, the journey was over. A wave crashed over him, throwing him off whatever he had been standing on into frozen waters. He gasped as breath was forced out of him, earning him a mouthful of water, and suddenly he was able to move again. He'd done this before, and still it took him several seconds to locate the surface and break through, gasping for breath.

Part of him wished he hadn't.

Wave after wave rolled onto another, creating water monsters that would come crashing down around him, eager to pull him under again. Overhead, thunder rumbled in the sky. Clouds darker than any he had ever seen in life or death rolled and pitched like the raging sea below. Rain poured hard enough to stab him in the face with every droplet; he wouldn't have been surprised if he was bleeding. The salt air clogged his lungs; momentary panic set in as they refused to inhale until his head was under a wave that had capped over him.

Pulling to the surface, coughing hard enough for blood to drip from his lips, a crack of lightning showed a piece of wood floating between the waves. Despite the fact he had seen this a million times before, hope bubbled up inside him. As always, swimming towards it took energy he was not sure he could waste, but he did not dare to fight the storm. He knew better by now. It was debris with half a name painted on it; the other half was lost to the angered ocean.

For what seemed like hours -perhaps it was hours- he was tossed about by waves and winds, his survival depending on how tightly he clung to the wood and luck. Walls of water crashed over him, pushing him into the ocean before the wood brought him back to the surface. It was the only thing that saved him.

Then the darkness of the night was interrupted by a faint glow in the distance. He felt a chill ripple through his bones, like it always did, and he lifted his weary head from the plank to watch. With every strike of lightning the glow came closer, until the burning mast of ship was visible against the waves. Flames leapt high despite the downpour, devouring the wood of the ship as the waves came crashing into it. The ship had no hope of survival; it was in the hands of ocean, and the ocean saw it as nothing more than a play toy.

With every flash, the ship drew closer, on a collision course for him. A hundred meters out…. Fifty… twenty… ten. It was coming towards him so rapidly even his few desperate kicks, weak as they were, probably wouldn't be enough to save him from going under the hull.

But that thought didn't really upset him. It was the screams that got to him. The dying screams of those on board sounded clear over the thunder and waves. They were more animal than human, and they pierced straight through him and shook his soul. The clearest of those screams was his own… only his mouth was not open.

His screaming was coming from the ship.

Only five meters left. He could see the individual flames combining and breaking apart, like vines that crept over buildings, leaving charcoal in their wake. Four meters… the scent of smoke overcame the salt in the air, choking him. Three meters… ash mixed with rain began to coat him grey… Two meters… And a rogue wave saved him, as it always did. His savior crashed against the sinking sink, pushing it past him. It was close enough that if he reached out the flames would burn him.

The screams didn't die for hours, even after a wave capsized the ship and its wooden hull was swallowed by the sea. Consuming. That was what the ocean was tonight. Like every night: never sparing the ship or its passengers but somehow leaving him alive.

But that was because She deemed it so.

He knew it was coming. Something more frightening than being in the middle of a natural disaster or in a battle that was impossible to win. A creature with more power in her nail than he had in his entire being: someone who could level Soul Society with a wave of her hand.

Then it came.

The moment, as fleeting as the sakura petals in spring, when the sea became a clear path before him. At the end was a figure sitting still as stone. His breath caught, and though his pulse was racing he was paralyzed. For even though he still had complete control over himself, he did not dare move as long as Her eyes on him. That would be disrespectful; a truly fatal mistake.

She demanded respect and, with caution, he gave it to her.

A flash of lightning illuminated the beast, revealing snow fur that shimmered with the warmth of the sun but left him frozen. Blood red markings twirled in elaborate designs over the wolf's body, while a rainbow flared from her back. He could only stare at her, fear overriding his instinct to flee. He was the prey in this dream, and worst of all he could do absolutely nothing about it. He would always be a wounded rabbit in the eyes of a hungry wolf.

Amber eyes stared steadily at him, piercing through his façade, to see into his mind, heart and soul. Those eyes that judged him and watched him unflinching, that haunted him during the day when he was far from sleep. That watched him until he glanced over his shoulder… only to see nothing behind him. Even a mere glance sent fear into his bones. Nothing could be hidden from Her, and there was nothing She did not know about him. He knew this instinctively.

In the academy there was a class that many found boring, useless even. A simple class on mythology that had been brought over by the souls who had died in the time period. After all, when learning how to fight what good were stories of beings that didn't exist? He had known better. Such knowledge was precious; such accurate, and whole, retellings of legends were rare, and he had been fortunate to realize that there was a grain of truth in each tale. It was how he knew the identity of the wolf before him, the one that not even the waves dared to touch as they splashed against an invisible barrier.

Amatersau-omikage.

She stood like a carved statue, the storm raging around her as if she was impassive to it. He knew of her feats. It was enough to have him sweating if he hadn't been floating in freezing water. She was the Slayer of Orochi, Kyuubi's killer and Victor over Yami. Her name struck fear into anyone who discovered She moved against them and their goals: shinigami, demons and Hollows alike. And that fear cut him as if he was a wet piece of paper being ripped, for why else would she show herself to him like this?

Did She know of his plans? His mind raced with unparalleled speed, possibilities being calculated. Was that why She began haunting him? There was no mention of anyone else being plagued with dreams of destruction. Neither Gin or Tousen had been given these dreams, so what did She want with him? Why give him such nightmares that he could never wake from?

The Great Goddess never spoke in these dreams – nightmares, really. She only watched the tragedy She had placed him in play its way out, seeing him struggle to survive the death and destruction around him. How he handled being nothing but at Her mercy, and Her mercy alone, in these nightmares. Where he was completely powerless against such natural disasters.

Was She reminding him, perhaps, of where his place was in the grand scheme of things? That his ambitions would lead to somewhere that She did not approve of? He didn't know, nor could he ask, for in these dreams she had taken away his greatest weapon. Though he might open his mouth to speak, nothing would come out.

Or had She decided that he had abused his power of speech; lying, sweet-talking the shinigami while plotting their downfall step by step, and thus She took it away from him? A mildly hysterical thought crossed his mind: perhaps She simply didn't tolerant back talk.

She was the ultimate unknown in his plan, the only one he truly was terrified of. For unlike Soul Society, so easily handled with its strict adherence to the rules and predictability, the Gods moved on their own time and with their own rules. Rules beyond mortal comprehension, that dictated when they interfered and when they did not in the affairs of those on Earth. The Sun Goddess was famous for her unconventional ways, like taking the likeness of a wolf or waiting a hundred years to slay the Orochi.

If She so chose, She could strike him down right now. His plan would be destroyed long before he could pull it together. He would never become a supreme being, though after so many nights such a goal seemed foolish when in Her presence. How was it that in his planning he had never thought that the Gods would notice his rebellion? He had foolishly, unknowingly accepted his peers' view that demons and hollows exist but Gods did not and then planned with that ignorance. But that was the only way to plan, really, for there was no way to account for her interference. And he had been trying since the first dream.

He was no closer now than he was a hundred years ago.

The storm was tapering off into rain, the swells dropping down into smaller waves. His dream was coming to a close, and it was its ending he feared most. His grip on the driftwood tightened.

Intelligent amber eyes never moved as She stood in one fluid movement. Her teal mirror flared with power as a stray lightning bolt struck the Goddess. The flash blinded him for a moment, and when the spots cleared from his eyes the Wolf held a glaive of solid electricity in its maw. Sparks danced over the golden blade, lighting the path towards him.

Then the Goddess raced towards him, her speed surpassing shunpo, bright red grass growing on the water surface and sinking into the ocean behind her. With each stride meters were eaten up, closer and closer she drew. Until finally she leapt, the blade of pure lightning reflecting a face not his own but of a boy with orange hair and brown eyes that flickered to the wolf's amber. The face that disappeared as the glaive embedded into his heart, and the wolf stared impassively into his horrified eyes.

~Bell' incubo~

He awoke with his usual grace, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling. Breathing deeply to calm his racing heart, swallowing to wet his dry mouth, he tried to convince himself it was just a dream. The blankets of his futon hadn't been ruffled in his sleep, a mocking suggestion that it had never happened

Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes in hopes that the action would remove the image of amber eyes that burned in the back of his mind.

It didn't.

He took a breath, steadying his mind. He mentally replayed the dream, but it seemed distant in the morning light that once had been comforting. Slowly, very slowly, the fear ebbed away to a dull worry. There was no doubt in his mind the Goddess had taken an interest in his plans, but She only appeared in his dreams. She had never attacked him in the daylight and there was always the possibility She would never do so.

Perhaps if he told himself this enough times the Goddess would humour him.

On the other hand, She had never told him to cease his actions. Or, a side of him that had never been there before the dreams whispered, She may just lie in wait until you act. Too many variables: too little information.

A glance at the clock showed 6 am. The time he woke after such dreams never wavered, and Hinamori would be coming soon to join him on the morning rounds of the division. The Goddess could strike him down at any moment, ending his plans swiftly. But She hadn't yet, and dreams were only dreams.

Prepping for the day, the dream slipping further into memory, he took a glance at his itinerary. Such tedious tasks, but all were necessary for his position and plan. Whether the Gods approved or not, She had yet to strike him down and that was all he needed for the moment. Once he was finished, once he finally became a Supreme Being, he would no longer have to fear such intrusion.

Soon, he told the fading mirage of a wolf. Soon You will not be so mighty. He smiled, then.

~Fin~

A.N: I've always been amused by the idea that Aizen wants to be a God, or a Supreme being, but that would insinuate that Gods exist in the BLEACH world. I could see them being amused by a soul trying to join them, especially if it was someone like Aizen.

As for Ammy, from Okami, well I could see her having fun with Aizen. She's a very playful deity up until you get her mad. When that happens it's best to disappear from her sight- if you can.

I hope you enjoyed this one-shot and thanks to RBMIfan for editing and critiquing.

P.S: 'Bell' incubo' means "Beautiful Nightmare" in Italian.