A/n I own nothing though TheDrunkenWerewolf owns Cherry. This is an omake inspired by TheDrunkenWerewolf's heirverse and takes place sometime before the winter war when Aizen and the crew are still in Hueco Mundo. Also thanks for letting me use Cherry I hope I didn't give her too much sapience.
Evolution required fear. That fact was half the reason why he'd pushed the Kurosaki boy to get powerful enough to be a slight threat. What had started his evolution though? Certainly if he was correct—and he always was—there must have been a catalyst of fear. What could one so transcendentally powerful fear though? Maybe it was being controlled. He spent a century and a half watching weaker Shinigami get used and even those as powerful as Kyoraku and Ukitake followed the faceless lord they served. They were pathetic, losers weak of spirit as well as actual power. He would not run to do the bidding of faceless leaders like a dog seeking scraps. He was powerful enough to control his own destiny; his fear was being pulled along in the slipstream. To die in ignominy serving everyone but, himself as the weak were doomed to do.
Control and power that was all he needed, all he wanted and what he took.
When Aizen found Stark his first reaction had been to be grudgingly impressed the arrancar had utterly annihilated hollows merely by being in their presence. He'd be a forceful ally to be sure and seemed mellow enough not to present much in the way of assassination attempts or in fighting. He encouraged the pair to come with him and heard the arrancar say that he seemed strong enough to be able to survive being around them. Aizen was far beyond the ability to be flattered, what he felt instead was the heart he'd thought long dead and blackened, tearing at the fragile hope in the arrancar's voice. Stark's loneliness was obvious as he explained his situation. Aizen possibly the only other being who could understand simply being too powerful for anyone to tolerate, the utter solitude that came from standing a tier above everyone else, It struck a cord that he hadn't been aware existed. The bitter awareness that the ones who would stand in your presence did so out of fear, resenting your power even as they hid behind it. After he'd gotten Stark set up at Las Noches he'd avoided the arrancar like the plague. Some mirrors didn't bear looking into.
Time passed and looking at the controlled chaos of Las Noches, one might wonder why Aizen didn't just use his sword's power on the arrancar. The answer was simple: it was more interesting to legitimately manipulate them. He'd used his sword all through his time in Seireitei because he couldn't afford mistakes but, it was boring. Given the opportunity, he preferred the sense of power that came from having arrogant, veteran followers wrapped around his finger. An army that followed him not because of his magic or even because he could overpower them though that helped but, because he could make them legitimately devoted to him. Well devoted to what he offered anyway, he supposed that it wasn't the same as actual loyalty but, it wasn't like he cared. As Gin would say he 'gave zero fucks'. In practice it made no difference; they would follow him until they died, regardless of whether they felt any personal loyalty. He stood as the meeting ended, his steps echoing on stone as he walked back to his quarters alone. When his evolution was done he would be all-powerful, he had no need for loyalty. None at all.
x
It was approaching Christmas and since 'someone' had given the Espada a very rough idea of Christmas traditions they were set on trying to impress Aizen with ever more expensive gifts. Gin having obviously set it up found the whole thing absolutely hilarious, particularly since Aizen was so far past caring about bribes it was laughable.
One morning before a meeting he made a show of giving Aizen a thin wrapped package. He kowtowed to a point just short of where Aizen would actually call him down for mocking him, while making it plain to both of them that was exactly what he was doing.
Aizen opened it at the meeting cautiously, as though it might explode. He assumed that since Aizen knew him far too well he expected it to be something that would up the ante for the Espada. That of course was the joke so he was surprised to see the blood drain from the man's face as he stared at the 'gift'. A laminated list taken from the Living World entitled 'top 100 things I'd do if I became an evil overlord'. Aizen barked a laugh that sounded forced and tucked the papers below the table.
It couldn't have gone better if Gin had planned; maybe Aizen was trying to goad the Espada himself. They looked so nervous as they tried to figure out the meaning of this new, apparently important 'gift' and how to one up it. Gin would have found it amusing but, he was preoccupied with Aizen's reaction.
"Status reports," he ordered in a clipped tone. The Espada gave their reports while they all listened, Aizen seemed on edge sitting a little stiffer than normal, blinking a bit too much. If Gin didn't know better he'd have sworn that he'd actually struck a nerve, the fuck? The meeting was over so quickly that he wondered if something had come up because Aizen had clearly rushed it.
Gin caught him in the stairwell leading to his throne room.
"Aizen-sama something up?" he asked.
"No,"
"It's just that cha kinda hurried us outta there. Not that I'm complainin," he explained, his curiosity was officially piqued. Aizen whirled on him, his hand on the hilt of his zanpakuto. Gin backed up, his hands out to show empty palms.
"Easy I wasn't questioning ya or anything," he said, playing the cowering subordinate but, also genuinely a little freaked.
"You are my subordinate. We are not equals, we are not friends, remember that," he snarled.
" Geez…my apologies," Gin said thoroughly confused by his supposed mentor's anger. On a side note was that a catch in his voice when he'd said 'friends'? Aizen stalked off and Gin walked back to his quarters wondering what the hell was going on, feeling completely wrong footed.
X
Aizen reclined in his throne finding himself unable to get his thoughts off the past. It was such a stupid joke, the kind of thing the captains and vices used to do to each other all the time before he'd started to sow discord. For that one damned second Gin had created the illusion that he was just another Shinigami and Gin was just another vice who liked to tease his superior when he could get away with it. Of course mind games were Gin's bread and butter and he knew that the man was trying to play him as surely as he did the same. He had to keep his guard up, yet he hadn't quite managed it had he? Not only had he let Gin get to him but, he'd even entertained for a second that he might have been wrong. That Gin might actually not be running a game. Not only did he know better—Gin wasn't that naïve— but, instead of filing it away to investigate later he'd warned him off.
What was worse was that Gin apparently knew him well enough to strike with such pinpoint accuracy. He hoped that no one—particularly Gin but anyone—had noticed. Until he fully evolved he was still technically killable, it was the illusion that he was untouchable that would keep him alive and his followers following until he could actually become so. If the image that he stood above them, an untouchable lord were broken he would have problems. While that may not get him killed it would definitely throw a wrench in his plans. There was some serious irony here. He hadn't actually read the stupid list yet but, he was pretty sure that not choking up in front of minions was definitely a rule.
x
An hour had passed and Gin was lounging in his quarters, holding Cherry and trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He'd clearly missed something. Was Aizen playing him and if not what had happened to make him react so strongly? On a whim he pulled out the small handheld monitor he'd 'borrowed' from Syazel and began flicking though the different cameras he'd set up. He stopped when he found Aizen, the man was sitting at the organ in his throne room. It'd been a complete whore sneaking the cameras in there but, so worth it.
The audio kicked in a second later to capture music so haunting and depressed it sent a chill down his spine. It reminded him vaguely of 'witch's sorrow'. He zoomed the picture, Aizen was playing with his eyes closed because why not? Seriously couldn't the bastard just suck at something like a normal person? Well he wasn't good at simplicity everything needed a thousand goddamn layers of…His thoughts derailed and his jaw fell open as he saw tears slipping from his 'master's' closed eyes. What? His perpetual smile turned into a smirk, opening his eyes fully to get a better view as he hit the record key.
Oh the blackmail potential was staggering. The song change as he played left handed swiping the tears away with his right, before resuming. Gin watched a few more minutes but, the scene changed little: Aizen played on, occasionally swiping at his eyes with obvious disgust. Gin's smirk fell, damnit he was supposed to be plotting to kill Aizen. Why was the bastard being so damn pathetic? He'd hurt Rangiku, Gin would NOT feel pity for him, couldn't afford to. Cherry squirmed in his arms and his smirk returned. This could prove amusing and with any luck, would solve his problem. He set Cherry on the floor and watched her shoot off in a white streak, telling himself that it was strictly for his own amusement and self-interest. Despite this justification a worm of guilt twisted in his gut at the thought of providing comfort to his enemy. He ignored it, It wasn't like he actually cared, it would simply be easier to plot against Aizen if he could think of him as an entity instead of a person.
He turned his gaze back to the monitor and watched as his friend sped into the room and leaped into Aizen's lap. A discordant note rang out as Aizen jumped, Gin snickered hell it was worth sending Cherry-chan just to watch the egomaniac almost fall off his bench. Aizen laughed as Cherry licked his face attracted, like most animals to the smell of salt. It was a twisted, broken sound and Gin almost muted the feed, this wasn't really what he'd been going for. Really, are you sure? A hundred years and you haven't grown to respect him a little? A voice whispered in his head. It sounded disturbingly like Rangiku.
The laughter had stopped thankfully and Aizen was just sitting there, holding Cherry so tightly Gin began to fear for her safety. The man who would be God cast a look around the room even though no one ever entered except by his express order. Gin's jaw fell open as he watched Aizen bury his face in Cherry's fluffy head. This whole endeavor was starting to feel fucked up even by his loose standards, he averted his gaze, it was still being recorded anyway.
The music started up again and he looked back to see Aizen playing once more, perfectly composed, a king of kings. When Cherry returned a few minutes later he killed the now boring feed and lay back on his bed, stroking the damp fur on her head while she licked her paws.
"Ya did good, Cherry-chan," he said and she continued licking as though to say 'obviously'.
Now he just needed some way to assuage his growing curiosity and the right moment to use his new leverage.
