Chapter Two:
Ichigo's new room was surprisingly lavish in its décor, the walls were christened white with large red and orange swirls distracting from the otherwise plain backdrop, upon the sight of those bold colours, he came to the conclusion that Renji and Rukia had been in to redecorate before his arrival. No one else would have dared put orange on the walls of a room he was going to live in.
It was a larger room than the one he'd had in Division Five, with more rooms for a start; better furnishings and a bigger bed – in his old room the front door led into the bedroom, with a cubbyhole of a bathroom stowed out of sight, and a kitchen barely roomy enough to swing a cat. It had been practical, but not ideal.
Yet here, the front door led to an elaborate lounge, leading onto the bedroom through a set of double doors, with an en-suit bathroom. The kitchen, which was on the other side of the living room, was large enough to host a party.
It was decent. And it was only a short walk away from his office, the one he had walked past on the way to hand in his application the day before. He was sure Renji and Rukia had worked their magic there as well.
Not bothering to examine the rooms too closely, he knew he wouldn't have anything to worry about thanks to those two. Even though he had distanced himself from them as soon as Aizen had taken him under his wing, they still cared about him for some reason.
The strawberry haired Shinigami sat down slowly, running his fingers across the fine leather covering the arm of his chair, and sighed. He felt spoilt. He had practically been handed the position of Third Seat due to Aizen's whim of placing a spy in Division Six, and his former best friends had redecorated, leaving him nothing to worry about.
Former best friends... That was a weird one to get his head around. Mostly, because as far as Renji and Rukia were aware they remained his best friends. He'd always been antisocial at the best of times, awkward and unfriendly, so his current distance from them appeared normal.
But it wasn't, not really. He had forcibly decided to stop spending time with them as soon as Aizen had taken him in fully. He knew he couldn't continue a true and honest friendship with either of them, not when he was plotting the downfall of the Shinigami behind their backs.
Aizen had found him in the Academy, the same year as Renji, Rukia, Hinamori and Kira; on the one occasion that he had questioned the man, Aizen had told him that the one thing which had interested him was not Ichigo's hair like most people, but the dead look in his eyes. Ichigo had played dumb that day, pretended to be confused by his statement. But he knew what he had meant, and later it had come in useful for the man.
Ichigo couldn't remember why his heart had disappeared, but it had happened and he had been left without for as long as he could remember. There was a hole in his memory, a blank space which refused to be filled by any kind of recollection or acknowledgement. He often wondered if something had happened to him, something terrible, that he had driven out to survive, but whatever it was it had rendered him incapable of feeling.
He felt pain, and he felt lust. But the key thing which made him invaluable to Aizen, was his inability to feel anything else. There was no fear. No love. No guilt. He had never been able to make connections easily, making friends like Renji and Rukia had taken a long time, a lot of effort, and a lot of pretending.
That was all he was capable of doing, mimicking the way he saw other people behave. It was never natural for him, sometimes he had even forgotten to do it, making them uncomfortable. The only person who had ever dragged any sense of loyalty from him, was Sōsuke Aizen, who viewed him as a loyal; malleable; attractive and willing tool of destruction.
Tipping his head back, he remembered the orders he had received only days ago. To kill the Third Seat of Division Six. He'd agreed without question, and completed his task without mercy or pity. The man had died terribly, it had been bloody and savage, appearing to an outsider like something half way between a Hollow attack, and a wild animal.
He hadn't meant for it to happen like that, he'd planned to assassinate him quietly, quickly and to have it over with, minimal fuss, minimal mess. But something else had taken over. The moment blood was shed, that deeper; darker instinct kicked in.
Aizen hadn't cared, the job was done and everything had fallen into place.
Shaking his head sharply, he got to his feet, waving off the melancholy echo of memories as he left his new home and decided to have a proper exploration of the Division. He paused on the front step, sliding the door shut as with a curious tilt of his head he sensed his new Taichou was not in the vicinity.
"What excellent timing." He chuckled mirthlessly, a spring in his step as he headed through the Division, recapping his journey from the previous day as he meandered his way up to his new Taichou's office.
This was likely his best opportunity to search the man's office for any evidence he had so far compiled about Aizen.
Upon reaching his destination, he took a measured glance around and tried to open the door, pausing as he discovered it was locked. Kuchiki was distrusting of his subordinates, it appeared. Wise really.
Crouching, he made another sweep of the area, sensing for any nearby reiatsu – with some difficulty – and when he was satisfied that he would be undisturbed, he pulled an elegant lock picking kit from inside his robes, courtesy of Gin. That man was a legend.
Ichigo deftly picked the lock, slipping different instruments in and out of the small gap, twisting carefully a couple of times in one direction before wiggling in another. A triumphant grin finding his face as he heard a satisfactory click, the door swinging open for him.
He hurried inside and closed the door behind him, putting his kit away again as he cast an eye over the room.
It was unchanged, save for the in tray and out tray, the latter of which was full to the brim while the former was as barren as the wastelands of Hueco Mundo. Kuchiki was a man who believed in order, believed in getting things done. And on this occasion, Ichigo was happy to compare himself to the nobleman.
He strode towards the immaculately kept desk and sat down in the Taichou's chair, taking a moment to settle himself before he began sifting through the drawers for anything that could be linked back to Aizen, or his plans. He wasn't really expecting to find anything, Kuchiki wasn't an idiot, he'd been trained by one of the best stealth operatives of all time, far too clever to leave anything-
Ichigo froze, fingers dancing over a palm sized envelope, the name 'Fugai' scrawled very neatly on it. While he wasn't certain whether or not the disk inside would relate to Aizen in anyway, it seemed peculiar to find the storage device concealed beneath layers and layers of official documentation. Something scratched at the back of his skull, a tingle of instinctual urge. Ichigo was almost certain that Aizen had previously mentioned Fugai in a meeting, although he couldn't remember its relevance.
Better safe than sorry.
The envelope made its way into his uniform, out of sight, and content that he had searched everything else thoroughly, he put the draws back in position, making sure the Taichou's possessions weren't out of place before he headed for the door.
The sound of his new Taichou's voice had him freezing in his tracks, he sucked in a sharp breath, only just feeling the faint thrum of the nobleman's reiatsu on the other side of the door. He cursed his ability to detect reiatsu, which had always been somewhat underdeveloped compared to his peers. Ichigo dove over the desk, slipping beneath it and hiding in the leg space, making himself and his reiatsu as small as possible as he heard the door slide open.
"It was extremely mindless for me to have forgotten to deliver that paperwork to you before my meeting, Abarai, I apologise. My mind was elsewhere, I must admit." The raven haired man's voice echoed around the office as he entered.
"It's absolutely fine, Taichou, everyone is allowed an off day every now and again. It isn't like you make a habit of it." The redhead answered, his voice was quieter, apparently he was lingering outside.
"My thanks for your understanding." There was a subtle softness in the Kuchiki heir's voice, perhaps there was a rare smile offered, "Have you seen Kurosaki today?"
Ichigo covered his mouth with his hand at the mention of his name, tension seeping into his muscles with the effort to remain perfectly still.
"No, Taichou, the gate staff reported that he arrived not long ago, but I've not caught a sight of him yet. It's... Strange really, usually I can pick up his reiatsu really easily but it has become far more distant recently. It makes it harder to keep an eye on him."
The strawberry frowned, Renji was monitoring his movements? Since when? Why? This was a troubling development.
"You are still uncomfortable with my decision to keep him in the dark, aren't you?" The noble asked, the slight muffling of his voice suggested he had turned to face his Fukutaichou.
"I..." There was a pregnant pause as the other clearly struggled with an answer, "Yes, Kuchiki Taichou. Despite his... Coldness towards others, he is well liked among the Divisions, influential even. I worry that Aizen will see this as leverage, and might target him for it, to win him over... Or worse."
"Truly?" The older of the two seemed to stiffen at the suggestion, "I suppose it makes sense... But there is far more to Kurosaki than that."
"What do you mean, sir?"
"Hm?" Kuchiki hesitated and picked up the papers he needed, "Nothing in particular. I'm just allowing my mind to wander. Here are those papers."
Ichigo could hear the shuffling of papers as they were handed over, as well as the movement of feet. He could just about tell that the Kuchiki heir had moved to the doorway beside Renji.
"There is one thing which concerns me above all else, you know." Kuchiki said suddenly, "What if Aizen has already sunk his claws into him? You said Kurosaki has been distant recently, but at the same time that isn't entirely unusual for him... He is the perfect type of person to go unnoticed as Aizen's spy. No one will suspect someone so antisocial of acting strange because it's normal for them to be... Absent."
Renji's gulp was audible, "I... I don't know... He's been in Division Five since graduation, Aizen had taken an interest in him before that though. If he's had poison dripping in his ears all this time..."
Byakuya's scowl echoed in his words as he spoke again, "Speak no more of this for now, Renji. All will be revealed in time. If you do see Kurosaki before I do, tell him to meet me at the training grounds at dusk."
"You're going to continue his training? For Bankai?"
"Yes, if I refuse to do so it will be suspicious."
Ichigo slowly lowered his hand from his mouth, listening as they discussed him so freely, hardly able to believe his luck that he had been present to hear it. He could prepare for their questioning and their watching if he knew it was happening. He was going to have to be far more careful than he first thought, and prove to them that he was either innocent, or being misled.
Luck was truly on his side as Byakuya Kuchiki then left along side Renji, leaving the door unlocked.
Aizen rested his chin on his knuckles as he watched the recording play out, there was nothing concrete, nothing to tie his name to any of the recent deaths. But there were loose ends, distant traces which could be followed if in the correct hands.
"You have done exceptionally well to get your hands on this so quickly." He murmured, retrieving the disk and pinching it between his fingertips as he appraised his subordinate, "Now I can make this simply... Disappear."
"It was nothing, I can't quite believe he left it sitting in his desk like that." Ichigo replied with a small shrug, "What of everything else I've told you? Am I to remain in Division Six when they are already suspicious of me?"
"Are you confident in your ability to conceal your real motives?"
"Of course." He said, as if it were an obvious answer, "However, seeing as their suspicions already extend so far, I wonder if it would be a wise course of action for me to... Confess."
"Excuse me?" Aizen's eyes narrowed.
The younger man tilted his head, holding a hand up defensively from the look he was given, "To a point at least. They may no longer be able to be convinced that I am utterly unaware of things... But they may be more willing to believe that I'm simply... Misguided."
The brunet relaxed at the explanation, "I see... That is a smart idea. If it becomes to hard to feign innocence completely, follow your instincts. We shall see what comes of it. I am surprised however, to hear that it was Abarai who first suggested my interest in you might not be innocent... I didn't believe he possessed enough brain function to come up with something so... Astute."
"He isn't stupid, Taichou, merely hard headed and controlled by his emotions." Ichigo shifted his weight restlessly, "At the very least, they still have no idea what happened to my predecessor, nor do I think they will connect the dots."
"Good." Aizen rose to his feet and walked around the desk towards the smaller man, resting a hand on his shoulder and smiling, "You've done well so far, keep this up and when the time comes you will be at my side where you belong."
"I am glad to be of service." He bowed his head respectfully, turning to leave.
Ichigo stopped in his tracks as he felt Aizen's hand grip his wrist, looking back at him sharply. His mouth dried as he saw the look in his eyes, heated and promising. His gut clenched with instant arousal, he knew that look well.
"I should return to Division Six, before I'm missed, Aizen Taichou." The strawberry breathed, biting his bottom lip as he was dragged closer.
"Indeed..." The brunet hummed, pulling his subordinate down onto his lap, "And yet I am certain you are more than capable of making a suitable excuse. Am I wrong?"
Ichigo let out a shaky breath, pressing against his superior as his cheeks warmed at the feeling of firm hands sliding around his buttocks, "No, Taichou. You're not wrong."
Aizen's smirk was as wicked as it was lustful, one hand trailing up the younger man's spine. He enjoyed the shiver he watched roll across his lithe form as he gripped a firm fistful of orange hair, fingers never slacking the Taichou drew Ichigo into a hot kiss, biting his lips and tongue firmly until he heard a whine break free.
It was the only down side of Ichigo playing his role in Division Six. The distance between them, the reduced time they could spend together like this. Ichigo was a fantastic lover. Obedient, fearless, sexual.
But, once his plans came to fruition, once everything was ready and completed nothing would part them again. Nothing, and no one.
It was only a short time later when Ichigo re-entered Division Six, pondering Aizen's words, he felt a distinct touch of pride at the praise he had received. He knew, better than most, that the man's true nature was dark and twisted, full of malice and a crisp lack of care for anyone who crossed him. The kind of man who planned things immaculately right up until the end, but who still enjoyed the thrill of something not going completely according to his expectations.
Aizen had seemed amused, as well as a little disappointed, that up until recently no one had suspected him of being anything other than what he wanted them to believe. This recent development with Byakuya Kuchiki had presented Aizen with a new rush, the excitement of out manoeuvring a man who was as clever as he was.
Ichigo had decided a long time ago, or at least what felt like a long time ago, to do whatever was in his power to ensure Aizen succeeded in his plans. Aizen had been the first person to give him a purpose, beyond the mundane normality of studying, graduating and fulfilling the simplistic duties of a Shinigami. Aizen had offered him a real, deep seated purpose.
He was a weapon. He knew that. He accepted that. In truth, Ichigo only felt truly alive when he was either killing, or fucking. The 'or' was a variable, he wasn't above doing both at the same time. Regardless, he felt more alive serving Aizen than he had for the entirety of the life he could remember. That had to be worth something.
Barely realising that he had arrived at his room, he fumbled with his keys, dragging himself out of the deep thoughts spinning in his head; he paused as he sensed Renji getting closer and sighed softly as a flash of red appeared in his peripherals.
"Hey Renji." He muttered, "Been Shunpo training again?"
"How did you guess?"
"Aside from the fact you look like you've been running around half of Seireitei carrying Yamamoto?" He asked sarcastically, "You're face is flushed and you stink."
"Wow, go for the low blow why don't you." Renji scowled as he sniffed himself, he had to agree though, "Alright, I haven't had chance to shower yet."
"You always did push yourself too hard, trying to impress Rukia." He shook his head with a chuckle as he finished unlocking his door, looking at him snidely, "How's that working out for you by the way?"
"Ichigo reign it in a bit yeah? Now you're being a bastard." The other folded his arms sharply.
Ichigo sighed inwardly and offered a smile, "Sorry, sorry. I was only teasing. I'm serious though, how are things with Rukia?"
Unable to remain mad at his friend for long, Renji chuckled and rubbed the back of his head bashfully, "Eh, you know. She's being a Rukia, even when she's sick I can't push her around at all."
"Maybe you should try a little harder, make her see you." He murmured.
"I guess so... But I have the Taichou to think about too, it probably wouldn't seem very professional to make moves on his sister." Renji ran a hand down his face, "Oh, by the way, he wants you to meet him at the training grounds soon."
Swearing inwardly, he cursed himself for forgetting that section of the conversation he had overheard in the office and forced a wince out, "Alright, I'll grab Zangetsu and head over."
"Alright, good luck, he's a monster when it comes to training." Renji clapped him firmly on the shoulder before disappearing from view, probably to get cleaned up and do some work.
Ichigo huffed, glancing up towards the already setting sun, glaring hatefully at the sunset hues striking their way into the sky, wishing he had spent more time outside of the Division to avoid this confrontation. The idea of fighting Kuchiki wasn't entertaining. Not as entertaining as his training with Aizen had been anyway.
Huge sword on his back, he trudged through the Division, making his way to the grounds he had seen the day before. The smaller area, which he ventured to first, was empty; it was when he moved towards the larger training section that he laid eyes on his new Taichou.
Byakuya was stood in the middle of the ring, sandals tucked neatly into the sand as he waited, eyes closed, elegant tendrils of pink blossom rising and falling around his feet, winding around his arms and fingers, gently rustling those lengthy locks of raven hair. The rapture of the man's reiatsu was mesmerising.
Vaulting the fence and approaching, Ichigo found himself almost completely encapsulated by the other man's aura, it was so pure and righteous, so controlled and perfect. So very different to his own turbulent nature.
"Kuchiki Taichou, Renji said you wanted to see me." He announced his presence, standing a short way off as he watched those swirling blossoms.
His superior's eyes flicked open at the sound of his voice, Ichigo was startled to see a brilliant white glow about them before it faded back into the usual steel grey, the blossoms around him rising up and solidifying into katana form.
"Ah, thank you for coming Kurosaki." The man gave his Zanpakutō a few practice swings.
"I didn't have anything else on." He said bluntly.
"Of course," Byakuya breathed, appraising him with a curious expression, "Regardless of whatever drivel Abarai has spilled to you, I do not make a habit of training with my subordinates personally; I am doing so with you because I believe you have great potential, and I would like to assist you in achieving it."
"I understand, Kuchiki Taichou." He responded, almost as mechanically as he did with Aizen.
Raising one perfect eyebrow at the obligatory response, he lifted his katana, "Very well, then show me where you are in your training currently. I want to feel your strength, Kurosaki."
The younger man reached around slowly, fingers curling around the hilt of the massive blade on his back, he could sense the bandage like bindings loosen at his command, and he swept the sword forward, his reiatsu rippling across the training ground, dusting up fragments of sand with the density.
There was a momentary look of amazement as his Taichou felt the flow of his power for the first time, and they shared a long look, Ichigo smirked slightly, "Surprise?" He growled before sprinting forwards.
They fell into an aggressive pattern of clashing metal and reiatsu, sparks splattering the ground with the forcefulness of each blow. Parting, only to meet again within a heartbeat, dancing across the sand and kicking up dust with the movement of their feet.
Ichigo was unwavering. Having trained under Aizen for two years, and he had resided himself to the belief that he would never sense a reiatsu more powerful, or an opponent more terrifyingly overwhelming as that man.
He recalled with ease, the very first time he had fought the Division Five Taichou, in the privacy of a specialised training ring, away from prying eyes, where Aizen could be himself and Ichigo could learn to temper himself against the onslaught of his power without crumbling.
Aizen had battered him. Quite literally, until he was black and blue.
A far cry from the kindly, warm man he pretended to be to his colleagues... He was darker than any being Ichigo had ever met, and delighted in the suffering of others, especially when it benefited him.
It had taken weeks, months of agonising training, three hours a day, every single day of the week, before he could even take a step forwards under the magnitude of that reiatsu. He had been utterly crushed, both physically and psychologically every single time. That had not caused him to feel fear, even when upon hitting the ground once again he'd receive a torturous thrashing, he didn't fear it.
Aizen was cruel, but he had profited from it. The harshness of his teaching had served to bring out the best in Ichigo, far quicker than kindness would have. And on the day he had finally managed to withstand the pressure, the crushing tremulous pressure of his power, Aizen had been proud. But only for a short moment, before he then revealed even greater levels of reiatsu, crushing him all over again.
Ichigo honestly believed there was no end to Aizen's reiatsu, as every time he seemed to jump one hurdle, more was piled on his back. Ichigo could only pray to whatever God was listening, that he never fell on his truest bad side.
A hiss escaped him suddenly as he felt the sting of metal against his cheek, jumping back he reached up and brushed his fingers over his skin, feeling a slice just beneath his left eye.
"You appear distracted, Kurosaki, are you not taking this seriously?" Byakuya scolded, sweeping his blade to the side to fling off the residue of scarlet globes.
He recognised many of Ichigo's movements and mechanisms, the resemblance to Aizen's own fighting style was great, and there as no longer any shadow of a doubt in his mind that his fellow Taichou had been training the youth in the image of himself. In some sense, Renji was right. Aizen had been enforcing his claim over the strawberry haired man.
"I am taking it seriously," Ichigo muttered, wiping his cheek again before returning both hands to his blade, "I get bored easily, and your movements are just... Well, so easy to predict." He added with an cocksure scoff.
"Is that so." The Kuchiki heir breathed, eyes narrowed at the poorly veiled attempt to rile him, "You have my apologies for boring you... Allow me to rectify that."
Byakuya leapt into a viscous flurry of Shunpo, he could see the widening of Ichigo's eyes instantly, apparently Aizen had neglected to inform his subordinate of the skills his new Taichou possessed. What a pity.
"Arrogance leads to failure, Kurosaki. Learn to contain yours in future." He called out calmly, darting towards him from behind, sword striking down in a blisteringly fast arc towards the strawberry's shoulder.
"Arrogance?" Ichigo repeated, head and body swivelling slowly as that great sword rose and neatly deflected the blow that would have caused so much damage, "I'm not sure if you're referring to mine... Or yours."
Not for the first time that evening, the Taichou was taken by surprise. Aizen had taught him Shunpo?! Teeth clenched, he disengaged, eyes narrowed to meagre slits now, "That man..."
"Sorry to disappoint you, Kuchiki Taichou. But I did tell you... There's a reason I qualify as a Third Seat." Confident smile sliding onto his face, he felt the beginning of adrenaline creeping around his body, tickles of excitement touching at the corners of his mind.
"You said it was because you could manifest your Zanpakutō... Not because you are adept at Shunpo." The Taichou hissed, "I wonder how many secrets are rattling around in that head of yours."
"Perhaps you'll find out one day." He shot forwards suddenly, bouncing around swiftly, not quite matching the speed Byakuya had shown, but swift enough that he would easily overtake Renji.
Tutting, the noble watched him, eyes darting to follow his form in the blur of speed he was creating. It was truly impressive to say the least. He could understand why Aizen was so transfixed, Ichigo had an overwhelmingly natural talent. A potential which any Taichou would find hard to resist moulding for their own ends.
"You look a little distracted, Taichou, I hope you're taking this seriously." Ichigo was suddenly in front of him, the point of his sword tucked neatly under Byakuya's chin.
"Tch." His eyes darkened, "Seeing as you are so determined to waltz over my pride this evening, perhaps you'll do me the honour of showing me your Shikai."
"I'm afraid that won't be possible." Ichigo responded, flitting away as he saw his Taichou lunge towards him again, blocking him and adding a kick to his counter.
"And why is that?" The Kuchiki heir demanded.
Spinning and ducking simultaneously as the Taichou attacked him with more feeling behind it, Ichigo maintained a casually cool exterior, meeting his Zanpakutō again and pressing against him forcefully, trying to overpower him with muscle alone, "Because..." He breathed as he looked him in the eye, "I am already in Shikai."
"What?" The raven haired noble breathed, receiving a hard kick to the abdomen for his bewilderment that sent him reeling back onto the sand, he was stunned by the sudden strength behind the strike, "That... That is why you've progressed so swiftly towards Bankai... Your reiatsu is immense, even I can sense that. You physically can't contain it all in a Zanpakutō which is not in Shikai form."
"Correct." Ichigo allowed the man a moment to get back to his feet, darting backwards before propelling his body towards him once more, ducking his defence and planting a firm hand in his chest, knocking him off balance as his eyes began to glow, reiatsu rising in a tempestuous flurry, placing deliberate and debilitating blows on his Taichou, letting him feel the full force of his power, "It also means that I am capable of maintaining battles for longer periods of time... Despite using... Powerful attacks."
The Taichou had to fight not to allow redness to seep onto his cheeks as he landed on his ass for a second time, hand flying out and tightly grasping the material of his subordinates' shihakusho, pulling him down too as they landed in an untidy pile on the floor, the younger man laying flat against him.
"Your technique is certainly impressive, as is your strength and reiatsu," the nobleman breathed, gazing at the more than slightly attractive face which was so close to his, "However, you have much to learn."
"How so?" Ichigo asked, genuinely confused- had he not just overpowered him successfully?
"You believe that as soon as your enemy falls to the ground, the battle is over," the raven haired male whispered, "Scatter, Senbonzakura."
