A/N: I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK! Ready for some more LTG? Anyway, to go along with the whole LTG-LP mantra, I created an Aizen AMV…it's rather shoddy right now (it's my first one ever) because I rushed to get it out before the update of this story…so go here when you're I don't own Bleach or the companies mentioned.

"Ladies and gentleman, this is your co-pilot speaking. We will begin our descent for O' Hare International in approximately fifteen minutes. Please fasten your seatbelts as we are experiencing some turbulence at the moment."

With that, Ichimaru Gin secured his belt in the accompanying buckle and then leaned back while sighing. He had that perpetual smirk with those shut eyes that downright petrified some. It was hard to imagine a silver-haired, pale-skinned man such as himself worked for the Chicago Bridge and Iron Company. In fact, he was one of the top staff members and had been highly touted since his graduation from the Cooper Union for his insight into solving the Tappan Zee crisis by generating and solving a differential equation that would optimize the number of structural hinges needed to maintain the bridge's sturdiness for another half-century or so. Thus, he had been a member of CB & I since the tender age of 22 and had become his department's lead engineer before Hiro had entered middle school. While he was still one who declined to do more work than was expected of him, his sparks of inspiration served as a reservoir for the genius that persuaded corporate executives that they could overlook his faults if he continued to rake in profits for the company. The only drawback to his gargantuan salary – now at 250,000 dollars per annum, all thanks to a sustained boom in the field of engineering – was his frequent travel for conferences, usually in Chicago but sometimes in Austin, Texas or Los Angeles, California. Gin hated to leave his family every other week, but as long as Rangiku did not mind, he would continue this lifestyle to pave a good future for Hiro.

At this moment, Ichimaru began to wonder about his wife. Questions were forming in his mind about why he was even…married to her. What had he seen in her to decide to tie the knot, and what happened to the comradeship between Aizen and himself?

But in my mind, I find myself in places with names but not faces
My memory races at speeds
Hundred degrees
My soul bleeds, devil must've planted the seed

What bothered him even more was how Aizen felt…was he furious with this defection? For some reason, Gin felt he knew the answer to that question after a particularly disturbing dream a few nights ago.

Gin donned a pure white overcoat that covered everywhere from his ankles to his neck, which was protected by a collar designed into the garment. Inside the overcoat was a black robe with a white collar that hung loosely below his neck. Furthermore, he was carrying a zanupakuto with the hilt pointing up and the sheath tucked away inside the white overcoat wearing black socks and sandals. Currently, he found himself in a spacious room with green tiles and numerous columns, similar to those of the Parthenon, were positioned at its perimeter.

"Gin…"

Said man whipped around to face a luminescent white throne and its beholder. With a weaker than usual grin he replied, "Ya called, Aizen?"

"What have you done with her?" the other man asked.

"Still in her holding cell like ya asked." Aizen nodded in approval. A brief but tense silence followed, which Gin decided to break.

"Ya gon' kill her?" Gin asked, his voice laced with a tinge of worry.

"Only if her presence affects your mindset." Truthfully, Aizen had wanted to see nothing more than see Rangiku's carcass strewn across Grimmjaw's feet, his zanpakuto coated in her entrails. He knew why he did not give the order to kill…yet. It was Gin's mental stability that concerned him should he find out that his longtime friend had died.

Gin's perpetual smile transformed into a worried look. "Don' kill her, Aizen….please, I'm beggin' of ya."


The visually unperturbed Aizen replied, "Why are you so desperate to keep her alive when she is of no use to us?" His tone betrayed none of his disdain.

"Just please don' make her suffer, I-" he was promptly cut-off with a firm address of his name from the other man. "I should not have to remind you that she means nothing and you should treat her as such. I know you've had a long friendship with her, but she is one of Soul Society's many problems. You have to realize that none of this will matter once we have entered the Spirit King's realm. Why not show mercy and kill her now rather than later?"

Gin opened his eyes and flashed a cold stare at his superior. "I will do anythin' to save her."

He quickly brought his hand to his zanupakuto, only to feel the tip of a blade at his neck and Aizen's face a foot in front of his, his soul pierced by the other man's enraged chocolate eyes.

"Do not forget where your true loyalties lie, Gin."

Gin's vision dissolved to black and he woke up from his sleep, sweating profusely. Rangiku rolled over and looked at her husband, who was now sitting up in bed, with concern.

"What's wrong Gin?"

"Nothin' Rangiku, just a nightmare…g'night."

Although the dream had made no sense to him from the start, Gin could still not get that Aizen's last statement.

That voice inside of your head got you projecting paranoia
Cold sweat shining on your face
Exposing your purpose
And if I ripped off your skin I'd probably find another person

Realizing that brooding over it would not make things any better, Gin decided to wait things out and see what Aizen would do next.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have arrived at O'Hare International Airport and will be opening the exits shortly. Enjoy your stay in Chicago."

The passengers in Business class were the first to leave so Gin picked up his laptop bag and slung the strap around his neck. Smoothing out his white buttoned-up shirt as well as his jet black Dock Pants, he stepped out into the stream of monied men and women in the aisle..

Who could imagine Ichimaru Gin looking all corporate and shit like that?

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"What's the tension in the cable at the bottom?" Mr. Micco asked his last period AP Physics C class. Yes, that's right; it was the second day of school and the Mechanics class at Stuyvesant was already up to dynamics (that is, Newton's laws...) in the curriculum. How did they do it? Actually, the entire class had been given a kinematics assignment over the break, which was to be handed in on the first day of school. In the first of this double period, the class had reviewed Newton's three laws and then moved onto uniform circular motion. The current problem involved swinging a bucket of mass 40 kilograms in a vertical circle with a rope of 10 meters at a constant speed of 10 meters per second.

However, Tetsuya Kurosaki was not interested into centripetal forces right now. He was still mulling over the possibility of contacting Dr. Aizen when he got home today. His mother had told him earlier today that she would be home around 5 o' clock today so he only had an hour-long window to send an e-mail to the man. Yes, as much as he loved his mother he knew it was for everyone's own good that no one found about the meeting. He particularly remembers one conversation a few weeks ago at the dinner table.

"Tetsuya, you haven't eaten much today," Rukia said. Tetsuya looked up from his rice and at his mother. "Is there something troubling you?"

"No, 'kaa-san. I'm just wondering what it would be like to be a renowned scientist," Tetsuya replied.

"Don't worry dear, you'll do great things when you're older," Rukia beamed as a sign of affection.

"Do you think I can become as good as Dr. Aizen?" Tetsuya asked, immediately regretting it. His mother looked at him and said in an icy tone, "What did I tell you about bringing that name up?"

"Why do you hate him, okaa-san? He's one of the world's best-"

"Quiet Tetsuya! I don't want to hear you talk about that idiot another second!" Rukia's yelled, her voice becoming shriller with each word. By this point, she was speaking in Japanese; yep, she was pissed.

Ichigo, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up. "Rukia he's not that bad...he is famous after...all" he stopped speaking and gulped as Rukia threw him a reproachful glare. "Don't encourage him, Ichigo!"

Looking back at his food, the 38 year old nodded obediently. "Yes, dear."

Rukia turned back to Tetsuya with a raging fire in her eyes. "You will be much better than that teme and don't you doubt that!"

Tetsuya was too stunned but to reply with a simple "Hai."

Although he had never listened to his classmates about their relationships with members of the opposite sex, he had heard one term used frequently to describe how some boys acted in front of their girlfriends. What was the word? Oh, that's it: whipped. Tetsuya decided that this word properly described his father, who did everything his mother said without hesitation. It was frustrating at times, such as when he wanted to go to the Rucker with Tai to shoot some hoops. His father, who was more lax with his son's behavior, approved. However, his mom caught him as he was heading out. When she said "No," Tetsuya looked to his father for support, only to have him side with his wife. Granted, he had tried to fight just a bit, but when Rukia glared at him with a look that meant, 'do as I say or you'll anger me, and you swore to always make me happy,' he immediately switched sides.

That was another thing that Tetsuya respected about Dr. Aizen. He was not married and never planned to get a ring for such a purpose, and thus was not forced into doing things against his will...of course, he heard this from Hiro, who probably heard from his father.

"Tetsuya?"

Mr. Micco's voice snapped him out of his reverie.

"Yes, Mr. Micco?"

"Could you find the tension force as I just asked?"

"800 Newtons, assuming g is 10 meters per second squared," Tetsuya instantly answered; he had become unstoppable in Physics; true, he had not taken the Mechanics exam last year but his physics knowledge base was so great that he was still able to qualify for semi-finalist standing in the physics olympiad the year before. Right now, he had his sets sight on qualifying for the physics team. Halliday and Resnick had not failed him yet, and he would continue to become a physics guru as he did more problems.

Micco gave a chuckle of disdain and asked, "can you show us what you did?"

Used to his physics teacher's attitude, Tetsuya immediately responded with the following: "Sum of forces equals ma. T minus mg equals ma. T equals m(g+a)..a is the same as v squared divided by r, therefore a equals 10 meters per second squared. T equals m(20) or T equals (40)(20) or 800 Newtons."

Yeah, that's pwnage right there. Take that Micco...

After class, Hiro approached Tetsuya as they were leaving the building.

"Damn, how'd ya do that shit so fast?"

"Well, ya know I'm just good like that. Physics Olympiad is the shit."

"Wrong, BASKETBALL is the shit," came a voice from behind them. Of course, it was none other than the eighth wonder of the world, Tai Tousen.

"Oh yah...good one Tai..." Tetsuya sarcastically replied.

"Yo, it's Friday guys...whatdya wanna do?" Tousen asked, ignoring Tetsuya's snide comment.

"Hmmm..." Hiro pondered. "We could go see Rocky XIII..."

A brief pause, Then -

"NOT!!!!!!!!" the three replied in unison.

"Oh shit, I just realized I have to go to a corporate dinner with my parents, scrap any plans for tonight," Tai stated.

"Way to go, ya idiot," Tetsuya feigned indignance, but was still grinning at his friend.

"Yeah...well, you're both noble idiots," Hiro chimed in, extracting chuckles from the other two.

"Well, I've gotta actually do some work for AP Stat," Tetsuya groaned after saying this. Everyone knew that Mrs. Rrieri, the Statistics teacher, loved to give extraneous homework for easy crap AKA statistics. The only reason Tetsuya even took the class was because he needed just that class and Physics C to win that AP Siemens National Award of 5000 dollars. He didn't give a shit about the money; either of his parents made that much in a week. No, he wanted the national recognition...to call himself an all-american academic was his goal, and he felt that this was another stepping stone towards being selected for the All-USA First Academic Team. That's right, he didn't even need to worry about college because of all the connections his friends and family had.

"Aight I gotta catch my subway," Tai spoke up.

"Same here," Hiro added. "We'll see ya on Monday Tetsuya."

"Alright," Tetsuya responded. "Seeya later."

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Dear Dr. Aizen,

I know I just spoke to you yesterday, but I was wondering if I could meet you at one of your research facilities. I am very interested in learning more about your work and even though I don't have anything outside of AP Biology-level knowledge of muscles. I would also like to get to know you better because it seems like we're on the same wavelength on several topics, and it would be nice to see how deep those simiarities extend.

Sincerely,

Tetsuya

Tetsuya proofread the e-mail before sending it to sousuke.aizen(a)alumni. Hearing the front door open, he quickly deleted the various links he had looked at containing articles about Dr. Aizen prior to typing his message. If there was one way his mother intruded his privacy it was the way she always checked whether he had accessed any sites she did not want him on. This never meant pornography because Tetsuya associated that stuff with all the potheads in his school; thus, he always felt that his abstinence represented a sense of moral authority. The problem was making sure nothing related to Aizen was ever accessed. Why did his mother hate someone who called him names in high school? Tetsuya scorned this childish behavior and believed there was something his parents were hiding from him. Supposedly, they had not met Aizen in person in over two decades, so how could either hold a grudge against him? Well, his dad was always more sympathetic towards the man, but was so completely controlled by his wife that his opinion counted for naught.

Heading for the entrance, Tetsuya greeted his mom. "Hey 'kaa-san." He bent down to give her a hug. Truthfully, it felt more like hugging a little sister than a mother, but if he ever said that then she might do something really crazy, like...setting his superior martial artist of a dad on him to unleash a whole fucking barrel of whoop-ass as well as to deal a blow to his pride. Thankfully, that had not happened just yet.

"How was your day, Tetsuya?" Rukia asked, looking up at her son.

"It was great, I even showed up that idiot Micco," he replied.

"I'm glad to hear that," Rukia said, smiling with pride in her pride and joy.

Truthfully, Tetsuya had detested Micco ever since last year, when that son-of-a-bitch would not let him take the physics olympiad because he had not taken a year of physics in class. After fighting the system singlehandedly but to no avail, Tetsuya brought his trump card: his mother, whose mere presence had pushed the principal to override Mr. Micco's decision.

"Yeah, and Mrs. Rrieri gave us a lot of homework so I'm gonna go do that right now."

"Okay," Rukia responded. "By the way, I just want to let you know that Mrs. Ichimaru called, and she will be coming over tomorrow with Hiro."

"Sounds good," Tetsuya said before heading back to his room.

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It was 4:45 and a certain Yamada Hanatarou was about to give his boss a financial portfolio of one of his company's clients. Yes, unbeknownst to all he had actually decided to go to Fordham University for accounting. His unremarkable life continued in the States, as he found and maintained a mid-level position at an Ernst and Young branch in Stamford, Connecticut. His numerous attempts to find a girlfriend had failed, and his co-workers always told him he pressed too hard for everything, including girls. Hanatarou realized that the highest point in his life was when he had betrayed Soul Society to help Aizen, almost like an enphatic "fuck you," except he never had the courage to say that to anyone's face. What hurt was that he had only made 60,000 dollars a year after fifteen years with the firm...meanwhile LTG and the leaders of Soul Society, had gone on to make at least three times that much by now. Hanatarou knew that suicide was not the answer though, and that one day his lucky break might come and once again he would play a pivotal role in the perpetual struggle between Aizen and Yoruichi.

"Well, now I have to hand this in..."

Hanatarou was heading to his boss's office to deliver this 'folio to him. Unfortunately, his shoelaces had come undone on one of his feet. As he was 10 feet away from the door, he tripped, stumbled, and then fell to the side, hitting his hip on a copy machine. Rubbing his hip while staggering away from the copier, he tripped backwards over a trashcan, spraying trash all over the walls - and himself.

The office door slammed open and a frustrated Iemura Yasochika appeared.

"Oi Hantarou what's-" he stopped in mid-sentence as he saw the state of his office. Absorbing it all in, he finally decided on a course of action:

"HANATAROUUUUUUUUUUUU!"

"S-sorry," Hanatarou mumbled from underneath a banana peel.

A/N: Expect the chapters to be about this long...