Chessboard, my Chessboard: The Diary of Aizen Sousuke
Disclaimer: Bleach is not mine. There's not enough BDSM and control games contained in there to be a Marisa Serise production, you know. Needs more cowbell? Only if 'cowbell' is the new euphemism for 'mind crushing manipulation and cat & mouse games', that is.
A/N: Back for Chapter 2 - This scene is directly timed after Chapter One of *this* story - he went to rest, and this is the rest of that scene so to speak.
I daydreamed. Hm - in a land of eternal night, is it really still daydreaming? I don't have another word for it, so I'll have to rely on words that haven't learned to stretch and absorb my new reality. I have always been a very vivid dreamer - if I don't get pulled into my mirror princess's teahouse to 'catch up on old times', my dreams take me back to places I both enjoy and despise at the same time.
This time, I seem to have gone back to my lieutenant days. My mirror princess still wonders how I ever managed to deal with that crude fool without breaking one of his piano-shaped teeth. Her words, not mine, though now that I think about it...Hirako-taichou was a marvelous instrument to play! I dare say that I played him rather well - though not even my hands could make that man sound remotely pleasant. Oh well.
I can still feel the weight of the 5th Division insignia on my arm, constantly reminding me of the drudgery I was trying to escape in the first place. It was always so much fun to send my substitute in my place to handle all of that - while overseeing my most treasured project.
Drudgery as it may have been, life in the 5th was never lacking interesting moments, courtesy of Hirako-taichou. If there ever was such a misguided chess piece, it was that man. Always desiring to be a rook, laying in wait on the home row to sweep out with long range attacks on an unsuspecting enemy. No, my dear ex-taichou is nowhere near the value of the noble rook. To borrow and manipulate a word from my dear mouthy Sexta Espada, Hirako-taichou was nothing but a pawn with benefits. Watching him swell with arrogance at the assumption he had figured out everything about me was worth it when he realized he truly didn't know me at all.
When the mind is focused on what it fully convinced is presented before it, it cannot think of anything else. It cannot see the strings that are coming into view, nor can it see the trap building from all sides until the only sound left in the world is the hard, imposing click of the lock. It is quite obvious who holds the key.
Hint: not Hirako-taichou.
It was not all manipulation strings and chessboards back then - I enjoyed my relationship with the mirror princess. Seeing us grow together and hearing her resolve to see out my vision as if it were her very own was an experience I will savor even as I stand on top of the entire world. Most look at this chessboard and notice the Queen's space seems empty and unfilled. They would do well to remember that just because something is invisible, does not mean that it does not take up space. My mirror princess serves me well and I handle her carefully.
She misses our teahouse conversations -- when I was a lieutenant, they were easy to have because I could miss copious amounts of time. Setting the strings in place to stand atop the heavens has eaten into my time more than I expected. For now, I settle for correspondence, leaving letters in the opulent sphere that serves as her inner world. It is this correspondence that has brought her closer to me - I am slightly amused that she can be so easily swayed when she is well aware of my inner most desires.
When I came out of my daydream, I found an interesting letter fluttering in front of my eyes; an obvious note from the clever princess.
One line, and one line only: ...and you would do well to remember that even Queens serve, my lord.
Indeed, my dear. Indeed.
The silver fox never tells me his daydreams, or any of his other dreams for that matter. Oh, he teases me with them, sauntering up to sit in my lap and whisper broken fragments, cracked and cheap dishes of thoughts when he is all too aware I will accept nothing less than full sets of the highest china available.
The dynamic between us holds more choice than meets the eye -- this small, fox-faced man doesn't kid himself with false thoughts of being able to protect himself from me. If I wanted to crack him open, drain away the slightly sweet but mostly bitter water into a bowl for safekeeping and claw out the inner meat of his thoughts - I could. Gin is my ultimate coconut. Sometimes when he is kneeling on his pillow his slanted, mischievous face reminds me of the three dots of the coconut.
Good thing I love him; I don't have the interest to smash him against the rocks. Yet.
I leave him small pleasures, more for the boy I know that is still hiding in that sleek, elegant frame than for the man that cannot stand any possibility of earning my displeasure. I see small flashes of the boy that hides within the man, and I have learned that patience is what is necessary here. No, I do not seek to extinguish the boy completely.
However, life is truly a series of hierarchies tangled and twisted together, a fact that most people either overlook or never consider throughout their entire lives. They are ruled by an invisible hand without the benefit of ever feeling its caress or profiting from its machinations. A pity.
I do not need to know his thoughts completely - his loyalty speaks volumes for how he sees me. He is slowly realizing that I express my love differently; not in additions, but in absences.
I allow him to roam Las Noches freely, absent of any supervision.
I allow him to pursue any being he wishes without punishment, absent of any interference from me.
I allow him to wander the entire world of Hueco Mundo on his own, absent of any required purpose on his part.
Allow, allow, allow. Gin's entire life has been boiled down into a lengthy series of lists that would overwhelm even the sharpest wordsmith in an endless shower of bullet points and their sub-point children.
Slowly but surely Gin is learning the finer moves of the chessboard game. Instead of fixating his gaze on the next piece -- or even worse, moving the piece with his hand still on it only to slide it back to its original position after some mental re-shuffling -- he has learned to use his mind as a storage center for things he does not wish to give away.
Ah, if only he realized that the smiling mask he unleashes on the world has enough nuances in it to be the most alluring mood ring I have seen seen.
I wonder where my fox has gone off to -- seeing his moods is not as fun as being able to manipulate that curved mood ring with lips and tongues and fingers...as a start. The tip of the iceberg should always be used to lead one closer slowly, all the while distracting them to the submarine empire that lurks below...
Allow, allow, allow...
A/N: Okay - still playing with the whole 'implied dialog' hook and angle. There's a bit of repetition — I am quite certain you're seeing a different shade of meaning with the last line, yes? *evil grin*. This is a little more Serious Business!Aizen, though I added a dazzling bit of sexual overtone both for my own amusement and as a bit of fanservice - there can never be enough Aizen hotness. I tried to go easy on the lemony flavor here because there's a lot to take in -- Aizen is starting to really spill the details of his thoughts and I'm very interested in keeping this going. While this isn't primarily a request fic, feel free to mention suggestions if you like. Aizen's presence is large enough to accommodate such a thing, I'm sure.
I left the actual daydream itself rather vague and turned it into more or less Aizen remembering his past in general. Also, times are rather vague because Hueco Mundo is eternal night - time gets a little slippery without the sun (I work at night, I oughta know!)
*attempts an Aizen voice* It's time for you to review - obey, obey, obey. *smirks*