Adelene900: Thank you so much for reading and for the review! Also, thank you for the great suggestions. I love both 'Shinji getting sick and Aizen taking care of him' (could be a combination of 1) and 2) ) and 'Jealous Aizen being jealous' :) I am inspired! I do have a few upcoming chapters in order so they may come a bit later on but I'd love to work on these ideas!
Fractoluminescence: Thank you! The last chapter's POV sort of came out of nowhere. I'm glad you liked it. :)
A couple of things I never saw coming when I started writing this fic:
I did not expect to write any chapters from Aizen's point of view because... it's AIZEN. I didn't dare get into that head of his. But this chapter sort of happened and... well it happened.
Also, I didn't intend any PLOT in the beginning. Then it insinuated itself in the form of a whole backstory regarding Hirako Shinji and the Fifth Division's former captain. So now, this apparently has something resembling an overarching plot. I'm afraid as to how to handle it but it just didn't go away...
I don't know if Aizen entered the division as a lieutenant to begin with or got enlisted as a ranked officer and then got promoted. For the purpose of this chapter, I opted for the latter.
* Onmitsukido = The Secret Mobile Unit/Second Division.
* "The Wailing Alley" is an original concept.
Aizen saw it coming miles away. Even minutely toyed with the idea of refusal just to gauge the reaction. Yet the manner of its arrival had caught him unguarded.
"Um... Fifth Seat?"
Aizen turned to find a very nervous-looking young shinigami accompanied by an older man, whose face conveyed that he was judging one's soul for its suitability to Hell.
Aizen greeted them both with his customary courteousness, to which the young shinigami hastily responded by almost bending double on himself. The other man, however, remained stiff.
Throughout his life, Aizen had met very few that he couldn't get through. But some people just swatted away charming manners as they would a fly insolently flying at their faces.
With the same stony expression that he'd graced Aizen with upon their first meeting, the Third Seat of the Fifth Division flicked his chin towards the young shinigami.
"Hand it over to him, boy."
Shoulders hunched, the young shinigami stretched out both hands, a folded piece of paper in them. Again, Third Seat barked out an order.
"Tell him."
The young man sputtered out a stumbling narrative: he was cleaning the barracks when he nearly crashed into Captain Hirako. As he frantically apologized, the captain had muttered, 'Might as well, before I forget.' And the next thing he knew, the captain had him wait while writing out a hasty note and stormed out after thrusting the paper into hands of the befuddled shinigami, with the instruction to deliver it to Fifth Seat.
"So I was on my way, sir, when I met..."
The young shinigami trailed off as he made a minuscule nod towards the Third Seat, who took up the report with more authority.
"I recognized the captain's handwriting and took it upon myself to unburden the boy from this ill-placed duty."
The 'boy' seemed like he wanted to contest the commentary if he dared. Third Seat didn't even spare a look at him.
"Read the message out loud, if you'd please."
Aizen opened the document in question, a slightest crease forming between his brows. Captain Hirako's writing only grudgingly perched on this side of the legible at best of times. Here, the writing itself seemed to be in a hurry to trail after its master. Aizen had to read it letter by letter, deciphering as he went.
"You. Aizen Sousuke. Lieutenant. Now."
Aizen and the young shinigmai looked at each other. Stunned into silence by the sheer informality. Fortunately, there was one among them who remained unmoved.
"I won't have it," declared the Third Seat in a gruff tone, "it's bad enough that the position had been vacant for so long - " Although you never seemed very cut up about it, sir, thought Aizen - "but to assign such an important promotion in such a... lackadaisical way? The captain may attend to his personal matters as he'd like, but I won't let such attitude overflow down the ranks, if I can help it. This is... a joke. In fact, I'm inclined to take it as one."
Aizen donned an apologetic smile, yet did not break away from the older man's stare as he carefully, neatly, refolded the message.
"Then, as the situation seems... up in the air until the captain clarifies the matter, we'll just have to wait until he returns. Meanwhile, I shall simply return to my current duties - "
"No."
The curt reply made the other two blink.
"Since it is the captain's message - as improper as it is - it'd be remiss of us to ignore it. So proceeding in your current duties may incur questions of insubordination,"
The younger shinigami, intimidation of rank momentarily forgotten in the face of such petty display of injustice, gaped at his superior. Aizen kept his smile, although it got a little thin.
"Well then, what do you propose we do? Third Seat?"
"Until the captain clears all this up through appropriate procedures - it is all 'up in the air', and that includes you, Aizen - sir,"
The old man matched the words with a derisive gesture - a palm flicking upwards, tossing something imaginary towards empty air.
"Alternatively, you could go chase down the captain, try to bring him back a little earlier. Perhaps down the Wailing Alley."
With that, the Third Seat turned on his heels. The last view of his face wore something disturbingly resembling a smile.
The flustered young shinigami turned to Aizen.
"What - what will you do, sir? I mean, lieutenant - um - "
"Third Seat has given me a direction, at least."
The younger man's confused expression gradually changed into an almost pitying look.
"Sir - um, lieutenant - sir, that's just Third Seat's particular expression. He says that anytime the captain's off without telling anyone-"
Aizen patted the younger man on the shoulder, bestowing his trademark calming smile.
"It's not as if I have anything better to do right now."
There was a reason for the young division member's incredulity.
The Wailing Alley was mostly a folktale, the kind used to scare disobedient children. Where vengeful ghosts and unspeakable monsters prowled, crying as insatiable hunger continually slashed at their bellies, and they, in turn, slashing at the unfortunates that stumbled into their dark domain.
Although it had an acutal presence in real life.
It was technically the southernmost district of Rukongai, although most considered the city separate from it, acting as a buffer between Seireitei and the loathsome area. The more practically-minded knew it as a hideout for criminals. In fact, the outlaws practically ruled the area - so much so that it was treated as a sort of autonomous district.
Only a few knew the true function of the Wailing Alley.
A mere seated officer had no business prying into such matters. But Aizen Sousuke had done some 'personal' research - partly out of curiosity and partly out of its future potential.
The Wailing Alley was where the disgraced nobility were exiled to.
Likely the Third Seat had sent him off on a wild goose-chase, but despite the research, Aizen had never visited the area in person and this was as good an excuse as any.
Then there was Aizen's own assessment on the Third Seat's character. Underneath the exterior of a disgruntled officer lay a capable collector of others' secrets - the sort that pried into personal letters and listened at the door. Like any connoisseur worth their salt, such collections weren't for material gains. The Third Seat's coveted hoard of information was for personal enjoyment - including the times he used morsels of it to bait or prick others.
For this round, Aizen was willing to play into the old man's hobby. And he had to admit, the possibility of his captain being associated with such a place intrigued him.
Normally, a random officer gaining entry would've required more ponderous procedures and raised eyebrows. But Aizen had made a point of making the guards owe him one or two favors, and he soon stepped into the notorious district for the first time.
Ironically, due to its rather free-form modes of trade and surreptitious support from the nobles, more money flowed in the Wailing Alley than half of Rukongai citizens ever got to witness. And money meant business.
One of such businesses snaked its hand around Aizen's elbow not long before his entry.
Onmitsukido lost a talent here. Mused Aizen as a jet-haired woman, seemingly having materialized out of the shadows, leaned over to him.
"What's a gentleman like you doing here, all alone?"
He donned a suitably unassuming, yet not too inviting, smile.
"I'm looking for someone."
"We all are."
Wet scarlet lips rasped out a philosophical reply even as smooth hands moved about Aizen's body with a more earthly purpose. Aizen put his own hand over hers, lifting it slightly off his person to make sure that he meant to discourage, not the opposite.
"Someone specific, with long yellow hair - "
"Ah, you prefer blonds?"
The woman beamed up at him, undaunted. With a softer, but similar version of the smile he'd favored the Third Seat with, Aizen spoke again. "It is regrettable, but I'm afraid I don't have time for this - "
At the same time, he moved his free arm towards his back, grabbing an errant hand that had been trying to sneak inside his shihakusho.
"- and not for that, either,"
Aizen whirled the culprit around, putting the thief between himself and the woman. The fresh-faced thief snarled and yanked at the caught hand. Aizen let go easily, causing the man - boy, really - crash backwards into the woman.
"Sis, you said this one'd be an easy catch!"
"He is, what do you call a fool of a shinigami who saunters here all alone?"
With that, other shadows sprang one by one behind the woman. Aizen gave a slightly exaggerated sigh.
"You can hardly expect a lone shinigmai to have anything of value."
"Depending on your standing, perhaps a ransom. Or at least some lesson for laying a hand on my little brother."
The woman snapped her fingers. The figures began marching forward -
Then darkness suddenly fell upon them.
It was nearing dusk when Aizen had got here, but surely, for the night to fall so suddenly...
The approaching crowd suddenly stumbled back, gaping at something over Aizen's head.
"Shit, it's the Crazy Thunder!"
Like garter snakes scattering before cartwheels, the swarm of robbers hurriedly disappeared into unseen nooks and crannies. Aizen turned, and had to look up.
Very far up.
The figure looming - and the word was apt, for it was like a house rather than a living creature - behind him blocked out both the sinking sun and the translucent moon. Aizen could barely make out the worn shihakusho. The description was a generous one to the tattered pieces of clothing that covered the figure - held miraculously together by gossamer threads and possibly a supernatural loyalty the uniform held for its owner.
A booming voice rumbled: "Division and rank,"
Aizen leaned back and the mountainous woman thrust her enormous face towards him. A hairpin that could have acted as a tent pole held her black tresses in a neat bun, which shook as she roared.
"Division and rank!"
Aizen decided to take a page from the Third Seat - dangling a bit of information as bait.
"The Fifth,"
Nostrils like twin caves flared. "You lie," the words rolled out heavy and threatening as a lurching lava. Aizen decided a counter was in order.
"And you? You're in a shihakusho yet I see no zanpakuto..."
"I know everyone in our division and I don't know you!"
"Pardon me, but - "
"Mei!"
The woman lifted her head and looked over Aizen. "Shinji?"
Something brushed against his cheek and Aizen caught sight of a Hell Butterfly flying past to flutter around the two of them. He looked to where both the voice and the creature had come from and... faltered, a reaction foreign to him.
For a moment, Aizen doubted whether it really was his captain standing there.
He had never seen his captain out of uniform. Yet here was Hirako Shinji, dressed in an orange yukata - haphazardly thrown on rather than worn - but the most shocking feature was that long hair, gathered up and tied with a ribbon.
Whatever surprise that showed on Aizen's face, however, was overshadowed by the one on his captain's.
"Sousuke?!"
"Cap-"
He must've used shunpo. For the next instant, Hirako Shinji had nearly crashed into Aizen - clamping a hand over the latter's mouth. The woman lowered her giant head towards them.
"You know this liar, Shinji?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
"He said he's from our division!"
"He's - new."
While the captain's attention was occupied, Aizen stole a glance at his profile. With hair pulled back so, Aizen could clearly see the sharp contours of the face - lines all the way down to his neck. The yukata had slipped due to the sudden movement, revealing skin that pulled tightly - almost painfully - over the jutting collarbone and a part of a scar, like a desiccated vein, crawling up towards a bony shoulder.
Perhaps it was such sights that drove Aizen to such an impulsive action.
He wrenched off from the muffling hand just enough to speak, "Aizen Sousuke, lieutenant of the Fifth Division." He looked straight at the gaping face of his captain before smiling up at the woman. "Pleased to meet you."
Aizen would have dodged, but his captain had been expecting it and was faster in yanking him out of the way.
When the dust settled, they could see the crater that had formed on the ground.
The woman slowly retrieved her fist.
"Shinji," she growled, voice quivering with fury, "is the lieutenant of the Fifth Division."
"He has a rotten sense of humor, Mei."
Aizen felt the other's hand squeeze his arm, nails digging in unspoken command: Play. Along.
The woman hung her head a little to the side, weighing in the placating words. She again lowered her head towards Aizen. A huff ruffled his fringe.
"I don't like you."
She whirled around to face the yukata-clad figure, almost whining, "Why d'you brung him, Shinji? I thought we were having a night out to ourselves - with Captain... "
Aizen watched the captain detach from him to approach the woman, patting her on the arm.
"I know, but... the captain had an urgent matter to attend to, so I'm afraid the dinner's off tonight. I'll... have to join him soon as well. But he wanted me to take ya home first."
"Oh," she blinked. The next words tumbled out in a sedated tone, almost that of a disappointed child. "Maybe... next time?"
Aizen saw a wan smile flit past his captain's features.
"Next time,"
The blond took hold of a thumb the size of a man's fist - gently coaxing the woman forward. The other hand he flapped towards his subordinate. "Ya run along, Sousuke,"
"No."
The blatant defiance caught both listeners off-guard, and Aizen took advantage of that frozen moment by sliding in between them with his most meek expression.
"I was lost when you found me. I have no inkling of the way back, and it'll be night soon..." Aizen shrugged. "If it's an order, I must, of course, attempt to navigate the path but most likely you'll end up sending a search party for me. That is, if you'd care to."
Aizen didn't even bother to make it sound convincing and Hirako Shinji seemed to consider calling him out on it. After a full minute of neither one breaking the stare, the latter threw his head back with a groan, pressing a finger to his temple. Then he turned to the woman.
"Mei, sorry 'bout this. But do me a favor and bear with 'this' -" a thumb jerked towards the brunet - "for a while? Try not to flatten him?"
The woman replied with a pout. "I'm telling Captain that I don't like him."
There was that wry smile again in place of an answer. Hirako Shinji waved a hand and the butterfly circled above them once and began to fly towards a direction. The woman lumbered after the creature, with the blond right beside her. Aizen silently followed.
The two were apparently close, judging by the way they chatted all the way. Although Aizen noticed that the topics were at least decades old, some incidents and establishments mentioned he'd only encountered in texts or stories from older shinigami. Yet the two of them, especially the woman, talked about such things as if they'd happened yesterday.
Aizen hadn't been lying about the time. Darkness soon descended and the only light source became the one emitted from their flying guide, enveloping them in a bar of faint glow. From a distance, they must've looked like a strange glowworm threading a path through a thick forest of pitch black. Aizen discerned that the unnatural glow was an elaborate kido coded into the creature. Another aspect of the kido seemed to relate to the one cast on the path itself - it'd been impossible for anyone to find the road they were led without this particular butterfly.
This was nothing less than the work of a top master from the Kido Corps.
A presence bumping into him stirred Aizen out of his reverie.
Hirako Shinji hissed low in his ear. "What the Hell were ya thinkin', trudging in here? A shihakusho sticks out like a sore thumb 'round these parts!"
"She's wearing one,"
The retort was more fitting to an impudent child, quite unbecoming of an officer - let alone Aizen himself. He probably deserved the look his captain gave him.
"She... lives here."
"Yes, I figured that was so."
And, here we are, speak of the devil. Aizen thought as they stopped in front of a black gate that was nearly unrecognizable from the darkness surrounding them. Aizen looked up, no sign nor crest indicating the family title.
They waited as the butterfly hovered over the gate. Under the concentrated halo, Aizen caught a first good look at the ribbon holding his captain's hair in place. Redder than the robber woman's lips had been, its coils twisting about the light-colored strands, it reminded Aizen of a gaping, dripping wound. He felt a sudden urge to free those pale locks from that bloody bond.
Instead, he contented himself with reaching out to pull the yukata more tightly over his captain's shoulders. The latter looked at him with mild irritation and curiosity.
"Shall I introduce ya as my nanny?"
"Ah, so you were planning to introduce me, what an honor."
Hirako Shinji merely gave a snort. At the same time, the heavy gate creaked open. A head of a girl poked through the crack, looking fearful at first then softening with relief upon sighting the gargantuan woman. The girl dragged the door further and Aizen could see through the widened opening a spacious courtyard, and far yonder, stone steps leading up to a sizable main building - befitting a nobility's domain. This was in line with the girl's attire - a typical servant's garb at a noble's household.
Much like the captain's previous actions, but with much more humility, the girl led the woman in, whispering about how she should get back to her room. The woman looked back at Hirako Shinji, who gave a reassuring smile and a wave - Go on. At last, she fully turned and disappeared into the inner parts beyond the courtyard.
The girl sighed and bowed deeply to the captain. "Hirako - sama," she whispered, voice trembling as if she were on the verge of tears. "Please forgive me, but there is no one else to ask. Not when she gets like this..." Only then did she notice Aizen standing a little further behind and started. Hirako Shinji flicked a glare towards Aizen and shook his head a little - Don't mind that one. Still looking suspiciously at the other shinigami, the girl took out a container wrought of wood and rice paper. Inside was lit by a luminous glow much like the one emitted by their butterfly's. The girl opened a hatch and the butterfly flew inside, the twin flutter-lights dancing inside their translucent cage. Ah, so that's how the kido within the butterfly - butterflies - worked - Aizen observed - attuned to go wherever its sibling was. Closing the container, the girl murmured again, "I truly thank you for bringing her back... otherwise..."
She yelped and nearly dropped the cage as the captain's hand suddenly shot over her. She froze when she saw the hand holding a fist that'd appeared behind. A fist that'd been about to strike her.
The servant girl stumbled back, falling on hands and knees.
"En...Enzou sama...!"
"Go, go in, stay with Mei."
Hirako Shinji spoke, eyes never leaving the newcomer - who swore and tried to twist away from the grip without success.
"Go."
The girl obeyed. Scrambling up on her feet, picking up the fallen cage, she ran towards the same direction the giant woman had disappeared to.
The man - only discernible by silhouette since the single light source was gone with the girl - snarled.
"Useless, I'll make sure she's properly punished for this insolence."
"Really? Ya grow a new pair of balls since I last saw ya, Enzou? Ya know ya'd have to go through Mei first."
With an animal growl, the man made another attempt to get away. This time, Hirako Shinji let go, making the man trip backwards by the sound of it.
"You dare put a foot in this household, Hirako? And - " The man's head flicked towards where Aizen was - "- you bring your - minion with you?! Have you no shame at all - "
"Don't waste your words, Enzou,"
A voice rang clear. There was a clap and the courtyard became alight as kido fire flared up from all corners, burning unnatural blue like will-o-the-wisp.
"I will not tolerate useless tantrum in this house,"
A woman was coming down the stone steps. Dressed in black, pattern-less garment with short sleeves that resembled the uniform of Onmitsukido. The lean muscles underneath the tight-fitting clothing and the grace of movement did justice to the association. She came close enough so that Aizen could see her clearly. Short black hair framed a boyish face that'd been called charming if not for the reptilian sheen in her eyes.
Those eyes swept over the young man called Enzou, Hirako Shinji, to rest over Aizen.
"Ah, if it isn't the golden graduate of the Shinigami Academy, oh wait, it's now called Shino Academy, isn't it? Aizen Sousuke, if memory serves,"
Aizen looked at his captain. Receiving no cues, he bowed lightly towards the woman who merely flicked her chin towards the other.
"I only half-believed it when I heard you got him. It never ceases to amaze me how you manage to snare fine things for yourself, Hirako."
"Depends on how ya look at it,"
At Hirako Shinji's reply, the wiry man - whose face under the lights was contorted with pure hatred - looked about to jump him if not for the woman holding up a hand. Not even deigning to acknowledge the man's aggression, Hirako tilted his head a little.
"Quite informed still, I see."
"Few of the pleasures still allowed to an exile,"
The woman nonchalantly took up one of the kido-lighted lamps.
"Well, let me see you out. It's the least I could do for bringing Mei back."
"Lady...!"
"If you're accompanying me, do keep quiet, Enzou."
The young man breathed in, seemingly about to burst with impotent rage but managed to gulp it down, bowing deeply as the woman brushed past him. Hirako Shinji took off after the woman and Aizen followed suit, glancing once at the young man whose baleful gaze stayed fixed on his captain's back. Only well after they went past the gate could Aizen sense him shadow them.
"You really should visit in your formal uniform, Hirako," said the woman, "considering how you won it, you should at least flaunt it. Otherwise, my brother might feel insulted from yonder. Oh, I know..." The woman turned slightly so that the glow from the lamp melted along her profile, cold and sleek like a line of scales. "It is for our little Thunder's sake. But do you not think it cruel to sustain her delusions?"
"Ya gotta let Mei go," Aizen was a little surprised to hear his captain reply. "Let her live with the ones who are willin' and capable of takin' care of her,"
"You know she will not leave this house of her own volition."
"She will if ya tell her to,"
"You ask me to deny her of the only home she's ever known? You'll take away even that from her?"
"Ya know what's gonna happen to her if she ever stumbles down to Seireitei."
"Has it ever occurred to you that that may be what she wants? At least a part of her that is not locked up in the past? After all, what purpose does a guard dog have in life, once it has failed to protect its master?"
"And ye're different?"
The woman stopped and turned. for an instant, something like an emotion flickered in her eyes that reflected the azure flame. Her lips curled.
Hirako Shinji saw it coming and didn't even blink.
Neither saw Aizen coming in between them.
By the time they recovered, the woman's spit was dribbling down Aizen's glasses, down to his chin.
"I'm sorry to interfere," Aizen spoke calmly, "but as a lieutenant, I cannot stand by and let any more aggression be directed towards my captain."
The woman narrowed her eyes into slits, sneering at both of them.
"Well then, let's part ways here. Go, Hirako, with your loyal lieutenant."
The last words were spat with the same force as the one that'd hit Aizen.
It was Hirako Shinji who tugged at Aizen's sleeve, practically dragging him away. Behind their backs, the voice of the man called Enzou bellowed: "Ask him, lieutenant! Ask how he betrayed his captain's trust! Ask him how he murdered his captain by trickery! How he usurped his seat! Ask him!"
Ask him! Ask him!... The echo chased them down as they reached the road outside the forest path they've been treading. It truly is, Aizen mused, the wailing alley.
Once they'd reached a paved area with some streetlights, Hirako Shinji stopped. He sighed and turned, holding something out. Aizen blinked, half of his vision clouded still by spit.
"Captain?"
"'tis a 'kerchief, ya know what it's fer, no?"
Growing impatient at his subordinate's hesitance, Hirako Shinji roughly dabbed at his chin, then at the glasses. Aizen eventually took hold of the proffered cloth with words of thanks.
"Why the Hell would ya be using yer face like that?"
Aizen chuckled a little, assuring his captain that he'll return the handkerchief after cleaning it. (He does clean it. He never returns it. His captain never mentions it, either.) Hirako Shinji just waved the words away and fixed him a stare.
"So, lieutenant, eh? Ya made the choice?"
"I beg your pardon, captain. But... you are the one who made the choice."
The captain cocked his head, almost looking up at Aizen sideways. "That so?" He continued to stare at his lieutenant, like a puppet fixed in a comical position. As Aizen shifted half-deliberately, Hirako Shinji swiftly turned and started on his way.
"Ye're not askin' questions," Hirako Shiji spoke after they took few steps down the road. "Discretion, just what one looks fer in a lieutenant."
"It would be indiscreet, yes, to openly pry into a superior's personal business when the said superior does not offer explanation first," Aizen let the frowning expression of the said superior pass right through him. "But I admit, the past few hours caused me to recall a certain story I've heard. If you would not think me disrespectful for sharing it..."
"Ah, count me intrigued, lieutenant,"
Aizen ignored the exaggerated inflection on the last word.
"I remembered a rumor... more of a legend, really, long before my time. It was about a certain shinigami without a zanpakuto. Never needed one, for her fists were like the hammer of a god. So people called her Narukami(鳴神 - Thundering God) or Kaminari(雷 - Thunder),"
The figure walking before him offered no comment.
"She was the first one to rise to an officer rank without a zanpakutou. The accounts get confused but one of the candidates for her division is the Fifth,"
The man in front didn't break his pace. Aizen continued.
"You called her... Mei(鳴 - Thundering/rolling), captain."
The sway of golden locks stopped, only a few strands blowing in the night breeze.
Hirako Shinji looked over his shoulder.
"Discreet and perceptive. Really struck gold, haven't I?"
"Speaking of being perceptive, captain, I couldn't help noticing that we're being followed. And I believe they intend to do more than following,"
"Indeed?"
Aizen moved his hand towards his zanpakuto. But before it reached the hilt, another hand took hold of it. Startled, Aizen looked at his captain, to meet with an unexpected grin.
"Wanna play a game, Sousuke?"
"Pardon?"
"I have a feelin' ye're not the type to play games,"
The captain pulled Aizen's hand, whirling around simultaneously.
"Too bad, ye're playin' one right now. It's a mix of 'hide-an-seek' and 'tag'."
Before Aizen could say anything, the captain broke into a trot with him in tow.
A blade embedded itself where their feet'd been.
It was obviously a signal, for others soon followed. Aizen could sense at least a dozen presences in pursuit, caught glimpses of black figures leaping about like torn pieces of the night sky fluttering around them. Yet the hand locked to his prevented any act of - no, the idea of any serious retaliation. It felt like the two of them were a couple of reckless children running out to play, dodging unwanted duties rather than two shinigami officers dodging deadly assassins.
Even when the attackers revealed themselves more solidly by dropping from walls and surrounding trees, the captain's grip didn't slack. Blades and limbs came with murderous intent and were avoided within a hair's breath. Their run had bled into a dance, the two of them weaving a path of complicated twists and turns. Through it all, the long golden tail whipping about wildly dominated Aizen's vision. If he allowed himself, he could fall into a trance watching its wanton movements, perhaps he was already half-mesmerized.
Only when they reached the area that Aizen recognized as being near the entrance did Aizen take the pace into his own hands. The captain halted suddenly, a dart whizzing past the edge of his yukata as he snapped backwards. Tutting, he moved to slide behind a tree when Aizen suddenly yanked the surprised captain into his arms, with the latter's back flush against his chest, as he murmured the incantation to a defensive kido.
The numerous darts bounced off the barrier that rose up around them in six sides. Except one of the sides bent over their heads, shooting like a giant black ribbon, towards nearby treetop. There was a cry as the kido flung the assailant over the branch down to the bushes below.
Aizen felt fingertips lightly tap his chin.
"Attaboy," the captain muttered, without making it sound like a compliment. "And if ya'll now move,"
Wrapping an arm around Aizen's waist, Hirako Shinji neatly whirled him around, catching a hand that was about to drive a knife from behind them. He let go of Aizen and twisted the arm of his attacker until the knife dropped. The other hand took off the assassin's black hood, revealing a hoary head with a beard the color of frost.
"Furumiya, thought it was ya. Also thought ya too sensible fer this,"
Hirako Shinji muttered close to the man's ear. The man stopped struggling but his body remained taut.
"We have an honor to prove, sir,"
"To whom?"
"To the House, to the dead, to ourselves," Aizen saw the old man's mouth tighten into a slit of a smile. "Perhaps they are all one and the same to you,"
Aizen could feel the rest of the pursuers gather a little away from them, partially hidden and immobile, watching. The captain sighed. "Listen, just tell Enzou ya've chased us to the edge of the district and lost us. Ya know he doesn't really expect ya to succeed. Ya don't expect to succeed,"
Hirako Shinji released the man and stepped back. "Tell him my new lieutenant -" the word was granted an exaggerated emphasis again - "was a beast. Put a few nicks upon yerselfs to make it convincin' if necessary."
With the tip of his toe, the captain kicked the fallen knife up, deftly catching it and throwing back at the older man, who caught it. He slowly sheathed it away somewhere about his cloak. Then he spoke softly, without malice, without anything - emptiness ringing hollow.
"It'd been better if you had killed us all back then, Hirako-dono."
"Well, sorry fer bein' so inconsiderate."
The old man turned, slouching a little. Aizen wondered if it'd been a gesture of respect or simply a show of shame.
Putting his hood back on, the man disappeared into darkness.
Hirako Shinji huffed and stood to the side of the road, signalling Aizen to move. Aizen was about to say 'After you, captain,' but then realized the intent behind the action when he glanced at the darkness where the black figures had melted back into.
You don't trust me to not follow them once your back is turned.
Aizen stepped past his captain with a bow - for normally the action would be disrespectful - and walked on. Only when the road diverged did Hirako Shinji overtake him, leading him on as before. Aizen smiled at his back.
It looked like both their choices would turn out interesting.
Their return, however, did not quite mark the end of the night.
Once they'd reached the division barracks, a familiar figure rushed out to greet them. Aizen unthinkingly - he really was committing unfamiliar acts this night - stepped forward to shield his captain. Which garnered him a strange look from the man. (Aizen never did explain his reasons - of which he really became aware of only later. Never voiced out loud how he loathed anyone to look at Hirako Shinji like that - out of uniform, hair bound. How it'd felt akin to letting someone look upon his naked body.)
It was, of course, no use. The young shinigami who had been the bearer of the message that started it all stopped and gawked at their captain. He only unfroze when Aizen gave a gentle cough.
"I, er, I - captain! And... um... lieu...?"
The young shinigami looked cautiously between the two of them. The captain gave a nod and as if it'd flipped a switch, words gushed out of the young man.
"I - the Third Seat! I tried to stop him, sir! But he just wouldn't... I couldn't... I'm so sorry captain - lieutenant -"
Only after Aizen had doled out soothing words did the young man become somewhat coherent.
"You see, the Third Seat has - well, cleared your, that is, Lieutenant Aizen's, quarters, a-actually turning it into a storeroom, to be exact,"
The blinking visages made him realize that further explanation was in order, which he hastened to supply.
"Once you, that is, Lieutenant Aizen - were gone looking for captain, the Third Seat, well, said that since you, Lieutenant, couldn't act as the Fifth Seat at that point, so it wasn't right to leave your room among the other staff since a lieutenant is traditionally given a separate quarter near the captain's. So... might as well get to it quickly, he said."
"...But, he actually didn't bother to set up the said lieutenant's quarters?"
The young shinigami furiously bobbed his head, grateful that the captain had spelled out something that he hadn't been willing to.
"...one thing at a time, he said, and it wasn't yet 'official', so..." The shinigami was almost in tears. "I tried to stop him! But... he already has your room, er, your former room, boarded up, sir! With all your possessions inside...! But now that the captain is here, perhaps we could all go together and..."
Captain Hirako stepped forward, patting the young shinigami on a shoulder in a similar manner that Aizen had done that very afternoon.
"It's much too late, only a few hours before morn'. No use waking up anyone at this time. Sousuke can secure a lodgin' outside the division or somethin' for the night."
'Ya go and get some shut-eye,' The captain practically turned the young man around and pushed him towards the barracks. The young shinigami kept looking back but as the captain waved at him - not so different from the way he treated 'Mei', Aizen thought - he made an awkward bow and walked away.
Captain Hirako gave a sigh and swept past Aizen, addressing him without looking at him. "Our Third Seat, I'm sure ya realize, has no teeth to speak of so stores up on the bile. If ya can't handle him, ye're no lieutenant material."
"Of course, captain. Then, permission to leave the division barracks for the night -"
"What fer?"
"To acquire a lodging as you said, captain - "
"Don't be silly, Sousuke, I just said that to put the poor kid at ease. What's the use of wastin' division budget on somethin' like this?"
'I can pay my own-' Aizen started but his captain motioned him to follow.
Eventually they stopped in front of a building that stood a little separate from the rest of the barracks.
Hirako Shinji pushed the door open. Upon entering, he noticed Aizen standing still behind him and looked over.
"What'ya doin' just standin'?"
"Captain, this is your private quarters,"
"Good, we can add 'observant' to the many qualities ya have as a lieutenant."
Contrary to the words, the gesture beckoning him in conveyed annoyance and Aizen had to enter.
Moonlight streamed aplenty through the wide window and Aizen could see silhouettes of... things cluttering the corners. Once Hirako Shinji lighted the lamps, the silvery, translucent blue gave way to golden glow, somehow making the space feel smaller, closed-in, more intimate.
Beyond the cushions, the futon, and the sitting desk rolled about objects that formed a chaotic collage against the inner walls. Aizen supposed most of them were procured - possibly against the division policies - from the Human world: curiosities and knickknacks, paintings and embroideries of burning colors, frosted and tinted glass, milky porcelain and contraptions of wood and steel - it was an interesting mess, the kind one'd like to sort through rather than clear. An image of a skinny dragon, sitting atop his colorful hoard with a crown of gold, floated unbidden into Aizen's mind.
The whimsical thought dissipated at the sight of his captain pulling at the ribbon in his hair, undoing the knot.
As Hirako Shinji shook his head, golden locks tumbled free to drape heavily over his back.
Aizen felt a little relieved at the sight.
Unaware of it all, the captain proceeded to lay out a blanket across the futon. 'The bathroom's over yonder if ya need it -' with a sweeping gesture that vaguely indicated the direction, the captain sat himself down in front of the low desk, ruffling through mounds of paper.
After a few minutes, Hirako Shinji glanced up at his immobile subordinate.
"Ye're still standing,"
"Captain, I couldn't possibly sleep here,"
Hirako Shinji frowned.
"I ain't bringin' out a brand new futon just for ya,"
"No, I meant - where will you sleep, captain?"
"I don't feel like sleepin' tonight," Hirako Shinji stretched languorously - "besides, with both of us bein' gone, no paperwork'd been done. So I might as well be catchin' up on some - "
"Then, I will stay up and work with you - "
With an irritated tsk, the captain caught hold of his lieutenant's sleeve and pulled. Thus forcibly sitting the latter onto the futon, he put his palm on Aizen's forehead and pushed until the head hit the pillow.
"Down, that's an order." Declared Hirako Shinji as he leaned over his subordinate, still pushing. Loose locks poured towards Aizen, tickling his face. A warm smell, tinged with cloying sweetness, wafted from the body above him, coating Aizen's tongue, weighing down the protest he was about to make. The yukata had hung open, and Aizen caught a glimpse of a greater part of the scar he had sighted before, a web of raised flesh, branching pale-pink around a darker-hued nipple -
Aizen lost his chance for good as the blanket was pulled over his face, effectively muffling him. When Aizen managed to push it down to his chin, his captain already had his back to him, stooping over the papers on the desk. (Later, when he knew more, Aizen would wonder if the former captain of the Fifth Division ever had his lieutenant sleeping in his room like this. Even later, when he understood more, Aizen would wonder how many times the former captain had snuck into Hirako Shinji's room, falling into sleep as he watched his lieutenant's light-covered back just like this.)
Absently, Hirako Shinji lifted one arm to pull up a drooping sleeve. Aizen noticed an ink-stain on the heel of that hand, like a blooming bruise. (The handkerchief had been clean, Aizen remembered.)
Seeing that hand dangling from the narrow wrist, incongruous against the voluminous folds of the yukata, Aizen was struck with the same feeling as when he first saw his captain back in the Alley - with the setting sun behind him, bright yukata bleeding into dusk, almost disappearing. He'd looked ungainly, with those too-thin wrists and ankles all bare. Vulnerable, that was how Hirako Shinji had looked.
Breakable.
With trails of soft gold filling his vision, Aizen Sousuke closed his eyes.
The next moment he opened his eyes, he was surprised to find sun upon them. His glasses were gone. Groping around his pillow found them sitting skewed on the edge of futon.
As he put them on, Aizen realized that his hair had been slicked back.
The desk was empty of its owner, only strewn paper and brush still tipped with ink occupying it.
Aizen got up and quietly slid the door open.
Outside, Hirako Shinji sat curled up on the porch. Legs gathered close with arms encircling them, a cheek pressed to a knee, and a haori loosely over his shoulders.
Upon the head of the dozing figure, morning light landed to crumble into flakes that settled on the yellow mantle pooling on the wooden surface.
Aizen reached out, a hand hovering over that head, strands catching onto his fingers - and drew back.
That was how Aizen Sousuke spent his first night as a lieutenant. Chasing his captain down the street of ghosts, falling to sleep encased in warm gold.
End Note: It is the tradition of the Fifth Division for its captain and lieutenant to spend at least one night in the same room, before one tries to kill the other.
How a character is referred to (by their given name or surname) depends on the POV and the time period a chapter is set in.