First Contact Chapter 26: Triangle Part III, a bleach fanfic

The five new shinigami settled in. Two of them, one of them Matsumoto, quickly made their way to fourteenth and eleventh seats within the first three months, and the other three were showing their potentials to lead small teams.

They were afraid of Gin's little enigmatic smile, disliked Akagi's stoicism, and completely at ease in my company. As they should.

I made sure to avoid Gin when he entered the room. We would barely exchange eye contact and skin contact, but when we did we would linger for a heartbeat too long. Then he would turn away and I would cough and exit.

Some of my smarter subordinates noticed the oddness, but they didn't extrapolate. They weren't trained to: all this while I had been the thinker for my division. Akagi, with his administrative capability but complete lack of imagination, was the quintessential fifth division officer.

Mizuki and I had our first argument about her "uncles" - Kyoraku again at work on my girl. And the coward didn't confront me directly; it was Ukitake who came to me instead.

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"What is the rationale behind limiting Mizuki-chan's social circle, Aizen-taichou?"

You had to give the man his props; no dilly-dallying about the hard truths. "She's spending too much time with you. I think she can become a more well-rounded shinigami if I can tutor her in her kido and zanjutsu more frequently."

"I sincerely hope you're telling the truth, Aizen-taichou." The white-haired man's anger radiated like a nova; Kaien behind him was stony-jawed. That man was too rough for his own good, but Kaien did have a certain brash charm about him.

"Why would I lie?" I snapped angrily. "Besides, when she spends time with you two, her mind is poisoned against me. I can't have that now, can I?"

I got up from my seat, matching his height. "We can make a deal: inform Kyoraku Shunsui that, as of now, he stops trying to get Mizuki to break up with me, and in return she can meet whoever she wants."

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"You will be assigned patrol areas to live in for four months. We will minimize traveling and commuting, so you will need to send weekly reports to Ichimaru, who will then make a full report to Akagi once a month."

"Isn't that a lot of paperwork?" asked some girl in the row. She was tiny and bespectacled.

"It's how Soul Society works," I answered. "Paperwork tracks shinigami. It makes it clear who's responsible for what. And so that we can recall all shinigami in the shortest possible time, if necessary."

"Um, taichou?" Matsumoto raised her hand. Gin suddenly frowned. She said, "I may need a shorter time spent in the human world."

"And why is that?"

"Gin and I are getting married soon, and, um, we kind of need to plan for the wedding."

I paused. I looked at Gin, who was looking at Matsumoto.

You didn't tell me that last evening. Why didn't you tell me that last evening? I roared at him inside.

"That's great!" I smiled, aware that the smile didn't reach my eyes. "Why don't you work out the kinks in the schedule with Akagi, and Gi-uh, Ichimaru, I'd like to speak with you. "

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We didn't look at each other as we found a quiet table in the building. The other shinigami had been dismissed. Matsumoto was talking with Akagi in another room.

And we were staring at the grain of the wooden table as if it held some universal truth.

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We had pulled apart. There was fear in his eyes. I knew there was fear in my eyes.

This was becoming serious.

We were becoming serious.

This was all turning out wrong.

He was entertainment. He was my lover. He was merely someone I could use, a tool for my future. He was my right hand.

That was all he was.

He wasn't meant to be anything more than that.

I steadied my breathing, steadied my gaze. I observed how his smile returned to him, how the mask fell oh-so-carefully between us.

And I just as carefully shut away the tightness in the pit of my stomach as he walked out into the night.

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"You're getting married in three months," I said in a flat voice after I heard what he had to say.

"Yes, taichou. I thought it was time." He twiddled his fingers.

"You don't have a ring," I noted aloud.

He hid his hands. "I thought I'd put it on on the day itself."

"I see." Another pause. "So who is officiating?"

"Kyoraku-taichou."

My eyes widened. What? I mouthed, suddenly furious.

Sorry, he replied silently, and shrugged apologetically. Her idea.

I breathed in and out, calming myself. He inhaled and went on. "I was wondering if you'd like to be the witness instead."

"It would be an honor." I smiled.

"Thank you taichou!" He reached over and clasped my interlocked hands. Then his fingers began tracing over my knuckles, and his thumb rubbed over my wrist. I gulped and steeled myself and the caress grew deeper – almost absently he pried my hands apart to knead the fleshy pads on my palms, to press into the erratic pulse, to run his nails along the lines...

His panting breath, sweet and hot, as we kissed last night against the wall... his smothered cries as we fucked, standing up... the way his skin glowed while we moved against each other...

"It's settled, taichou," Akagi announced at the door.

Gin and I jerked our hands apart. I got up as in as dignified a manner as I could. I nodded at all of them and said, "Good. Good. Perhaps Matsumoto might like to know a really good dressmaker that Mizuki frequents?"

"Thanks, taichou!" She beamed prettily at me, and I knew Gin had looked away from her. I smiled and nodded again. As the three of them left I sat down again, abruptly reminded of how much I had missed his touch over the past three months. There was that tightness again inside me, but I pushed it away.

"It's not love," I told myself firmly. "You gave that up a long time ago, Aizen Sousuke. It will never be love."

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"Urahara Kisuke and Aizen Sousuke in room 316," said the registrar.

I looked over and saw a blond boy wandering up. He had an air of careless nobility about his profile, and the small smirk on his lips irritated me immediately.

"Hey. Kisuke here."

"Aizen Sousuke. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"You look like a smart guy," he said with a grin. "I wonder how long you can endure me as a roommate." He sauntered off, humming a strange song.

I frowned, not sure if that was a challenge I heard. With a shrug I followed quietly.

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I couldn't – wouldn't – love Ki.

I will not love Gin.

I will not endure that human infection in me.