Mizuki combed out her hair with the wooden brush. The rounded bristles still tickled her scalp as they had done so many years ago. Soon she'd have to take the medication.
Aware that she might pose a danger to the servants, she had sent all of them away, then asked Kotetsu-fukutaichou to erect a sealing barrier on her house. That should keep her – and others – safe until the effects of the medication wore off.
Sensory perceptions would be altered. I wonder which sense? And how long do the effects last anyway?
--------------------------------
"I should join you in there," insisted Ikkaku.
Mizuki was firm. "No. I'm supposed to heal. And have you any idea how much hospital beds cost?"
Yumichika coughed politely. Ikkaku and Mizuki glanced at the fifth seat and turned red as one. Ikkaku crossed his arms. "I don't like the idea of you being alone."
"Well, deal with it. I asked for you to come so I can tell you to not look for me today," she snapped. Gods, she was grouchy. She fervently hoped the imbalance thing would wear off soon or she wouldn't have any friends left by tomorrow.
Ikkaku snarled. "Fine. I hope it gives you the worst hangover ever. Yumichika, let's go. Somewhere out there someone actually needs us."
--------------------------------
She regretted the outburst.
It would be easier to have someone who was strong enough to restrain her being here. Ikkaku certainly fit the bill; strong, fearless and persistent, he could bring her down if he had to without all the unnecessary dilemma. Mizuki knew why she chose to seal herself in instead.
If she had anyone else with her, she might commit to him before she was sure she was in love. It had been that way with Kuchiki-taichou, and she wasn't about to make the same mistake.
She knew she was being sensible, but it didn't make the time pass easier or faster.
"Lessee what I brought back from my trips..."
--------------------------------
By the time Mizuki had plowed through an English novel – The Lord of the Rings – it was early evening.
Damn. She was still a fast reader. And the pages were made of brick, she could swear it; but she knew her sense of touch was screwed.
She got up, aware that the flooring felt grassy and the air like molasses, but determined to move nonetheless. Until she walked around the corridor.
"It can't be you." The air hardened to liquid cement. She was having difficulty breathing. "It cannot possibly be you."
Aizen smiled amiably. "Then who should I possibly be?"
Mizuki crashed to the floor, her knees buckled. Shaking, she tried to scoot backwards, but collided with another pair of legs. She looked up and saw the terrible, smiling face of Gin Ichimaru.
"Hey there."
----------------Iraq, four months ago----------------
"I'm telling you, Farid, you all are-" Mizuki stabbed and splintered the mask of a hollow emerging from the debris "-overworked!"
Farid grinned, his dark skin burnished by the glow from his fiery sword Ifrit. "That's the life in the Middle East, girlie. There ain't no end to soul burial or hollow vanquishing in a war-torn country."
Mizuki slashed through another mask with her Ameshizuto, the sickle-shaped blade a maelstrom of destruction. "It doesn't get any better?"
"Until those humans wake up and smell the destruction? Not bloody likely." Farid pointed to a small imp-like creature flitting out of the sky. "Message djinn for ya."
Mizuki listened. And hastily opened the gates to step through to Janan Society (1).
--------------------------------
The captain-general scowled blackly. "If those are the kind of captains Soul Society trains, I think you'd better remain with us. Especially this Aizen character... he sounds demented."
Mizuki bit her tongue. "Captain-general, I need to return home to see if I can assist."
"You can't stay here? We have need of reapers."
"No sir. Soul Society is home."
The captain-general sighed. "Very well. Janan Society will miss you though. Tell your uncle you have been a tremendous asset."
--------------------------------
As she packed denial flowed unchecked.
"It couldn't be him. It can't be him." She hurled her journal into the trunk and screamed into her hands. Then she backed into a wall and slid to the floor.
It was true. She knew it was. She just refused to accept it.
Aizen-senpai had betrayed Soul Society. He killed everyone in Central 46 Chambers. He manipulated the Gotei 13 into doing exactly as he wished them to do. He set up the girl's execution just for something he wanted.
The way he had manipulated everyone... the way he manipulated herself.
She remembered the horror she felt when he began crushing her, almost negligently, against himself.
The triumph in his eyes when Yama-ji agreed to his marriage proposal.
The rage hidden under the disappointed smile when she refused, and the detached amusement when Shunsui-san backed her up in her decision.
The almost-invisible hint of calculated pleasure whenever they met in the corridors and he'd just brush by her, enough to set her skin tingling.
The cool humor whenever he saw her following Kuchiki-taicho around.
He scared her.
She wanted to go back right now. She wanted to see the evidence.
No. She wanted to see him in the act of betrayal. She wanted to be there when he was still present on the cliff near the execution grounds. She could have followed him. She wanted to follow him – no. She was still a Kai. She had to follow her uncle's lead.
Could she have stopped him?
But if Kuchiki-taichou almost died facing them down... how was Kuchiki-taichou, anyway?
---------------Kai family grounds, now-----------------
"She seems excited to see you, Aizen-sama," commented Gin.
Mizuki was still frozen on the floor. Her gaze was fixed again on her first lover, taking in his altered appearance, his unexpected yet terribly familiar presence. "Senpai?"
Aizen got to one knee. "You remember me. That's good."
"How... why..."
Gin's smile faded slightly. "She likes questions."
"It's alright Gin. Although she has forgotten the rules," Aizen's smile seemed a little more pleasant. "I can take the time to teach everything again."
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(1) Janan: heart, soul in Arabic
The smut is in the next chapter, and there might be more violence. not sure yet.