Chapter 26: Hearts Like Ours

Borders and horizon lines
We're alone but side by side
We're yet to dream, we're yet to dream
Nothing here is what it seems

There's an animal inside
There's a fear that won't subside
Of all the things I'll never do
Will I ever follow through?
There's an animal inside
There's an animal inside

Half awake and almost dead
Keeping empty beds elsewhere
We're yet to bleed, we're yet to bleed
All the time and energy

Metal screeched against metal, two swords biting violently against each other. The energy expelled by each blade pushed against the other like opposing poles on a magnet. Power reverberated through the metal and into their bodies, making the flesh tremble. Alejo used sonído to jump swiftly backwards from his opponent, only to have him disappear instantly from his sight. Instinctively he twisted to block the blade coming at him from behind and the two weapons screamed at each other once more. Aizen's lip curled in a smug expression as he pushed forward, using his superior strength to force Alejo backwards until he hit the wall.

'Always be aware of your surroundings.' Aizen smirked as he pinned him there, his blade pressed flat against Alejo's, pushing them both against the espada's chest. With a little added pressure Zangetsu's sharp edge pressed through white cloth, biting a thin red line upon Alejo's skin. He curled his lips in a snarl as he tried to push his master from him, but in his position he had no leverage to work with and no means by which to escape the grasp.

He had been beaten, again.

Aizen sheathed his blade in a motion so swift that Alejo almost fell forward at the sudden lack of pressure. He stumbled slightly upon his feet before collecting himself, stabbing his zanpakutō into the ground in frustration. The tip of the sword buried itself firmly in the dusty ground of the training area.

They had been going at it for hours, Alejo suffering one crushing defeat after another at the hands of his master. He was fading now; clothes torn, ribs broken, skin bloodied and bruised. A thick line of blood leaked from a split lip. He spat red upon the ground and swore, running his tongue back and forth to check for missing teeth. All he could taste was metal, red and warm, but his fangs remained intact. For the time being anyway. It wouldn't have been the first time he had lost parts of his body to the brutal scuffles disguised as training sessions, but then he could always regrow them, his healing and regeneration capacity was frighteningly high even for an espada.

Gritting his teeth, he wrenched the blade from the soft ground, swinging singing metal in an arch towards his master's back. But even with his back turned Aizen gave him no advantage. The lord twisted round, quicker than it was physically possible to perceive. He slapped at Zangetsu's blade with the back of his hand, a simple deflection he had performed many times before, rebuffing the sharp metal without it leaving so much as a mark upon his skin.

But not this time.

This time the steel bit deep into the flesh of his hand, the blade stopping just short of the bone.

Alejo had often privately thought that even if he managed to wound Aizen he wouldn't bleed, that his master wouldn't die even if he was killed. The ex-captain seemed above such frailties as the circulation of blood and the existence of such weaknesses as mere mortality. But here was the proof that he was not infallible: blood spurting from an open wound as his dark eyes widened momentarily in shock. This wasn't the first time Alejo had struck him, but it was the first time he had managed to draw blood. The first time his weapon had managed to pierce his master's skin.

Aizen took a step back, his mask firmly fixing back into place, regarding his wounded hand now with a detached sense of disgust, as though it were something completely foreign to him. Dark, almost black, blood dripped languidly from the wound, falling almost in slow motion towards the floor. The sound of each drop as it impacted upon the dirt rang in Alejo's ears like thunder, and it took him a moment to realise that in his own shock he had frozen, staring blankly at the dark stain spreading rapidly across Aizen's pale skin.

A crimson flower bloomed on Aizen's white sleeve, and he moved in response.

Faster than a flicker he appeared at Alejo's side, and with one sharp movement cracked him across the back of the head with the hilt of his sword. A supernova exploded at the base of the espada's skull as he fell, his knees hitting the ground hard as he crumpled. Arms flailing he tried to break his fall, rolling onto his back as a foot connected sharply with his ribs, causing another bud of pain to bloom in his chest. He was blinded momentarily by the false sun, his vision obscured by white light before it was blocked out by the shadow of the body pinning him. A strong hand grasped his neck, the other pressing a blade to his cheek and that cruel mouth smirked above him.

Alejo blinked up at his master, the sun shining through chestnut strands of hair, and he understood. He may have been able to wound him with a sword, but Aizen could still kill him whenever he wanted, even barehanded, in an instant. The message was clear,

'Don't forget your place'

(pet)

Alejo growled as best he could with that hand constricting his windpipe, snarling and spitting with the futile self-awareness of a dying animal caught in a trap. Blood drip-drip-dripped from the open wound on Aizen's hand, splashing lukewarm and wet against Alejo's dirt streaked face. Neither spoke, their eyes locked in a silent battle for dominance that could lead towards only one end. Alejo squirmed and spat uselessly for a moment then was still, knowing his own defeat as he breathed heavily through his nose, every laboured breath stolen from lungs that gasped frantically for precious oxygen as fingers tightened round his throat. And Aizen just kept smiling, an icy, sadistic expression that seemed as frighteningly familiar as the cold, heavy body pinning him to the ground and the strong hand constricting his throat. He didn't understand the fear which flooded his veins at the mingling sensations but he knew that he was helpless, that he had been all along.

Eventually the smile faded and the staring contest came to an end as Aizen released him, brushing him off like the dirt which had settled upon his clothes.

'We'll end it here for today I think.'

Alejo was still fuming when he emerged from the shower, hair drenched and sticking red against his healing white skin. The burn was back in his stomach, the anger and the bloodlust mingling and bleeding into each other until they became almost indistinguishable. The image of that red bloom on Aizen's sleeve was imprinted upon his mind; first swirling then remaining stagnant like sink water refusing to drain away. He sat down heavily upon the bed, clenching and unclenching his fists as a manic smile spread across his face.

It felt good, so very good. That red stain, the bitter scent of Aizen's rotten blood, the momentary slip of the mask. HE had caused that. HE had made the untouchable lord bleed, he had marked him and it had felt so good. Better than he had imagined. It wasn't just dominance, it wasn't just that for the first time he had come that little bit closer to standing on par with Aizen, there was something deeper there, something darker. The pleasure he took from wounding Aizen, it was personal.

It wasn't that he hated Aizen, or at least, he didn't think that he hated him. Admired him? Yes. Feared him? Certainly. But hatred? Hatred was complicated. He did not have a reason to hate Aizen, he who had made him and moulded him and given him so much, but yet there was a feeling still there, bubbling beneath the surface. Growling in frustration, he drew his lips back over sharp, pointed teeth as he let his body fall back heavily against the bed. He exhaled breath in a hiss and tried to release some of the painful burning tension along with it.

And speaking of tension…

There it was: a blue scent, the sweet tang of pride wounded but not yet broken, the soft sounds of sharp teeth gritting again each other behind his bedroom door as the espada in the hall debated whether or not to stretch out to knock upon the door. He could sense everything now, things so subtle and fleeting that they would barely have registered before now so obvious, so every day, so… boring.

But playing with Grimmjow for a while would ease his unrest, tame the storms in his head, however ephemeral the calm within that eye may be.

Readjusting the white towel around his waist he stood, lips curling as he felt the sexta's reiatsu flare in response to the sudden outpouring of his own. The blank white door slid open soundlessly, power licking round the corners of the doorframe like red hot flame, welcoming his visitor in. He smirked as he stood before his former master. His reiatsu like flame whipped up the wind around his damp body, framing him in the doorway as his hair splayed out at either side. Grimmjow felt a growl of annoyance rise and die at the sight, the sound catching and turning hard in his throat before sinking to his stomach with a sickening thud. Strong hands curled into clawed fists grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him roughly into the room before he could react, and for a moment he relished a time when Alejo was the one who couldn't keep up with him. This was his penitence now for all those times, he knew that as he was shoved down upon the bed, as Alejo bit and clawed at his skin with that smirk which appeared more and more hideously familiar by the day.

And as Grimmjow's body was pressed down into white sheets by a smaller yet much stronger beast, alight with power, burning with bloodlust, he couldn't help but for a moment find it difficult to distinguish between master and pupil. For a moment, at Alejo's mercy as he was, the red haired espada with the demonic grin almost looked like…

'Aizen-sama.'

Alejo bowed his head as he approached the throne, the proper respect shown as always.

'Alejo.'

The bristling feelings from their previous encounter had subsided somewhat now as Alejo stood before his master. Somewhat, but not entirely. His stomach tightened as Aizen stood, unsheathing his zanpakutō in a motion so fluid Alejo was barely able to follow it. But as fleeting as the motion seemed to him he could still see it, he could follow it and he knew what that meant: he could follow Aizen's movements. He could win. The corner of his mouth twitched in anticipation, his tongue running along the ragged edges of his fang-like teeth as he drew his sword in a movement equally as swift.

A glimmer before him and Aizen was gone, his yellow eyes flicking in attempt to follow the movement. But he was too fast to track and Alejo found himself hit hard from behind, pushed forward onto his front and suddenly there was no air left in his lungs with which to breathe and no strength left in his body to hold himself up.

He managed to gasp as kyōka suigetsu's blade imbedded itself in the ground an inch from his head, cracking the marble where it came to rest. A hand splayed itself across his back, resting there gently but with enough force to warn him not to dare to attempt to stand up. He took deep shallow breaths with his face pressed against the marble, the zanpakutō knocked from his grip had slid across the floor and come to rest a short distance away. But that small distance seemed like miles now as his hands crawled uselessly at the cold floor, the small pressure on his back lying like a heavy weight. Aizen crouched down as he straddled him from above, bringing his lips to a hair's breadth of Alejo's ear, leaning in to whisper.

'What you're trying to see, what you need to see, is not something which can be perceived through vision alone.'

Alejo growled, a soft noise in the back of his throat, and received an amused sound in response. Aizen removed the hand compressing the espada's back and retrieved his sword, the marble barely making a whisper of protest as the blade swept through it like butter. He stepped backwards to allow Alejo to scramble angrily to his feet, the espada grabbing his blade and immediately stepping forward, cutting fiercely through the air towards his master. Aizen dodged each slash with precise but gentle movements, seemingly exerting no effort at all just as Alejo's movement became more and more frantic and heated. He slipped beneath the redhead's guard as easily as though he was not being lunged at furiously with a blade and, with steps so slight and swift he barely seemed to be moving at all, took a step forward and backhanded him roughly to the floor.

Alejo had been driven into a corner and as he fell his head hit the wall hard. He crumpled to the floor, feeling his teeth sink into his bottom lip to draw blood from split skin. Aizen kicked Zangetsu away from him, sending the blade scattering across the floor, and leant down over him. He placed his palms flat against the cool marble on either side of his head, effectively pinning him to the wall. Alejo felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle in response to Aizen's sudden proximity, a chill sweeping across the surface of his skin.

'Calm your mind.' He hissed with a mouth inches from Alejo's own, spilling words smooth as silk and poisonous as vipers.

Alejo bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood. Here he was again, pinned and helpless and on the receiving end of another of Aizen's lectures. God how that man loved to hear himself talk, loved to watch his inferiors squirm beneath him as he held that oh so disdainful air of power and authority over them. He got off on it, that much was obvious, and Alejo was sick of being used for his pleasure.

He flinched as cold fingers snaked around to the back of his skull, brow furrowing in confusion as those fingers summoned cloth from thin air, a thick white length which his master tied around his head, covering his eyes and rendering his sight useless.

'You rely too much on instinct, visual and kinetic memory. If you want to fight me you're going to have to startseeing and feeling more than just what your opponent is doing, you're going to have to start predicting their movements.'

'How?'

'By harnessing the one thing which has been holding you back all this time: your reiatsu control.'

Aizen pushed himself from the wall, turning his back on Alejo as he strode off to the opposite end of the room. Alejo felt his ears prick up to catch the harsh sound each footstep made upon the floor, the scrape of metal against marble as Aizen picked up his sword. For a moment he felt helpless, his reiatsu swirling anxiously in his stomach, dancing across his skin. And Aizen saw it, his master didn't even have to look to see the worry in his face and trace the path of his movements.

'You need to focus Alejo. You've done it before, but you need to learn to harness this ability in battle, otherwise you will die when we face the shinigami.'

A challenge, a taunt, one which Alejo would steadily rise to. Had it been Grimmjow he was fighting he would have returned to the frantic physical struggles, that was how the sexta fought and that was how he had learned. But Aizen was different. Every move he made was cool, calculated. Nothing like the wild heat of battle which Alejo was so used to. If he was going to win, he needed to think like him.

'Calm your mind.' Alejo snorted to himself. That was an easy thing for someone like Aizen to say, someone who was continuously completely unaffected by any event or occurrence. Someone who let conflict and struggle roll off of himself like water off a duck's back. It wasn't how Alejo knew to fight, but as Starrk always said, he was a frighteningly fast learner.

Focusing his power, Alejo summoned his zanpakutō to his hand and took up a fighting stance before his opponent. He could practically hear the smirk that spread itself upon Aizen's face as he challenged him, for now they were playing Aizen's game and anything could happen. Fear and excitement mingled in his stomach and he was silent. Listening. Waiting.

He thought back to how he had felt in the human world, the overwhelmingly strange sense of comfort and peace that he had felt beneath all those stars. He remembered the way he had let his power out, timid tendrils at first then strong flowing energy, dancing amongst the thousands of humans that lay below him spread out across the town, each their own little tiny star of energy. But here Aizen was a supernova, an explosion of power contained within an impenetrable shell. He felt his reiatsu meet with his masters, the two energies clashing in a strange dance, slipping over each other, trying to work their way into the cracks in each other's armour. His entire body shuddered but he did not move. He held his stance and waited for Aizen to strike.

He nearly didn't dodge in time to avoid the blow that came, twisting his body out of the way to evade the blade as it cut a path through the air towards him. Aizen was silent but Alejo moved on reflex, feeling the air change and swirl around him, sparking with reiatsu as he moved. He kicked up off the ground to dodge and landed softly on his feet, barely having time to take up his defensive stance once again before the next slash came. Unable to fully evade the strike he half jumped, half stumbled before collecting himself and landing clumsily upon his feet. A dark red stain splattered upon the floor, but he didn't see it land. Nor did he feel the pain which should have lacerated up his arm as the blade cut through the skin. He could feel the edges of his senses compressing, without vision everything else seemed heightened. His ears pricked up at every little sound, the smallest odour assaulted his nostrils and the air moved like fire over his skin. Excitement and fear faded from his senses, without emotion everything just became so much clearer.

He could feel it now, the anticipation in Aizen's movement. The smallest breath of the air displaced by his body as he moved around him. Alejo remained still, his sword held steady before him. The tip of the steel seemed to vibrate in the cold air that shrouded them, and he had to force himself to relax and grip the hilt less fiercely. The corners of Aizen's mouth twitched ever so slightly, and suddenly the lord was upon him.

Their swords met in mid-air, steel glancing off steel with a sharp ringing tone. Alejo swung his blade back in an arch to counter the blow that he sensed coming at him from his left. He caught the sword just before it reached his ear, the singing of metal near deafening him as he pushed back the opposing blade. He felt Aizen retreat for a moment and fell back to resume his defensive position. His own breathing was heavy and ragged, but below it his heart beat fast from excitement. He could feel the pulse and hum of the blood in his veins and realised that his drumbeat was not the only one he could hear. Below the noise of his own frantic heart he could feel another, his focus pulled to a pinpoint by the white cloth constricting his sight. He felt, rather than heard, the movements now. The rustling of cloth was all but blocked out beneath the harsh hum of Aizen's reiatsu. He could taste the anticipation in the other man, just as he could feel the beating of his heart.

And for a moment, two hearts beat as one.

Alejo moved then, faster than he knew he could. One foot before the other and he was flying, across cold white marble which barely touched his feet. He swung Zangetsu forward in an arch, steel parting the air in a single, clean stroke. He cut only empty air, almost overbalancing from the lack of anticipated resistance, but caught himself and twisted back round to catch Aizen's blade on the rebound. The swords screeched against each other like animals as the two fought for dominance, the blind against the bold. Alejo felt his blade push back towards him and he instinctively stepped back, no longer willing to let his own blade be used against him.

He took a moment to regain his footing, and then he was off again. He threw himself forward again and again, each time catching naught but air with his blade. But with every slash he felt himself get a little closer. Each miss was less than the one before it, and he began to adjust his movements accordingly. He always was an exceptionally fast learner, and now he was fighting back.

A slash, a parry, a scream of metal. The dance of swords continued for what seemed like hours. But inch by inch, even with the blindfold restricting his vision, he continued to hold his own against his master. Aizen moved to counter a blow that Alejo sent swinging at his left side, too late realising the feint. Too late responding to the change in the readhead's reiatsu as it moved against his own.

And then, with Aizen taken off balance for the first time, Alejo struck.

It happened so fast, yet it felt like time was unfolding in slow motion before him. Aizen managed to duck under the sharp edge of the blade as it came towards him but, disorientated by the motion as he was, it took a fraction of a second more than usual for him to regain his footing. That fraction was all that Alejo needed. The darkness of his vision was lit up by light now, visual sight replaced by senses, reiatsu filling his mind's eye. And it in he saw Aizen stumble, momentarily stunned by the blow as Alejo brought the flat of his sword back round to smack him in the chest. And then he was falling, twisting round to catch his footing but before he could Alejo was upon him, throwing him down to the ground as he swung his blade round to meet his master's throat.

He felt the cold body of the lord beneath him as he pinned him to the ground between his legs, an icy pulse beating out beneath his skin. With his free hand he reached up and tore the blindfold from his eyes.

The sight that met him was surreal, the sensations foreign yet horribly familiar. Aizen lay below him, hazel eyes narrowed in hatred at the sharp steel pressed against his neck, the pressure only just shy of breaking the skin. Alejo caught those orbs with his own scowling black and ochre eyes, and in that moment he knew that he could kill his master if he wanted to. He was disarmed, defenceless, and prostrate before him with Alejo's blade against his neck. One slip. One swift, easy motion of the hand was all it would take to end the life of the most dangerous man he had ever known. The urge came suddenly and was gone, like dust upon the wind.

Aizen smirked at him, a tugging of one corner of his lips as though he knew a secret that he would never tell, even with a blade pressed against his neck.

He would, had he still be him, he would not hesitate to make that incision.

But he wasn't, Aizen knew, and so he reached up and pushed the blade away with the tip of a finger, never breaking eye contact as the espada drew ragged breaths above him. Alejo let the sword fall to the ground as he fought to control his breathing, breath taken away in a sudden rush of adrenaline and possibilities unrealised.

Those fingers continued upwards from the deflection of the blade, grasping Alejo gently by the back of his neck, strong digits snaking through his hair. The touch was soft, yet strong. So gentle, yet demanding enough that Alejo thought for a moment that his master was going to pull him down and kiss him. His face flushed red at the sensation of fingers running through his hair, blushing like a child at the thought which had just crossed his mind from nowhere, and which brought with it such contradicting feelings. His breathing quickened again as those fingers ran down from his scalp, tracing the lines of what remained of his mask across his face as short, sharp sparks of heat started to burst against a backdrop of fear in the pit of his stomach, a confusing mixture of feelings which made him feel sick. Those fingers ran along the edge of his mask until they reached a corner, the place in which the bone jutted away from the skin in a blunt point at the peak of his cheekbone. Those strong fingers curled around the bone, and that terrible smile returned.

'It is time.'

Alejo didn't even have time to comprehend the meaning behind that statement before the pain came. A searing outpouring of agony as those fingers hooked deep into his skin. They grasped the bone of his mask and pulled, reiatsu pouring from Aizen's fingertips into the infinitesimal gap between skin and bone, forcing the two apart in screaming pain. They curled and pulled, the mask held itself onto Alejo's face for what seemed like hours through the pain filled haze, but was really only a few seconds, and with a wrenching crack it detached, falling to the ground to shatter to pieces against the cold marble.

Alejo fell too as he felt the bone leave his face. He fell off of Aizen and rolled onto his back as he clutched uselessly at his face. Agony flooded in, the cold touching the skin which had never felt the ice of the air before, red and inflamed from where the mask had been torn away. Pain shot through him like a hundred bullets, setting his nerve endings on fire. He felt Aizen move away from him as he screamed, his voice reverberating through the air like the wail of a dying animal. It burst through him from the inside out, pain and power colliding in a colossal outpouring of reiatsu which crashed against the cold air like an explosion. He screamed, and the very air itself was on fire around him.

But Aizen was standing, and he walked through the red flames which burnt in the air around the espada as the energy flowed out, his eyes opening as the last burst of reiatsu left him. Gasping for breath, he gazed wide-eyed at the ceiling, searching for something in the infinite white of the throne room. Those eyes met with Aizen's merciless gaze, and rolled back in their sockets, surrendering the body to unconsciousness, swallowing the espada whole. The flames burnt out around the two as quickly as they had sparked as with a cold finger Aizen traced remembered patterns across the raw skin beneath the bone which had never been touched before.

A/N: It's been a long time since the last update, didn't realise quite how long until I went to update the fic, sorry. Usual excuses. Should hopefully have more time to work on it from now on. Thanks for your patience and, as always, feedback would be amazing :3

K.