Disclaimer: Now everybody knows that I don't own Bleach. Bleach is owned by Kubo Tite. And if you think that Bleach is owned by anyone other than Kubo Tite, bless yo heart . - To Kubo Tite: Write on brotha, write on.

A/N

Aishiteru Aizen: This Chapter has literally tore me to shreds. It was extremely difficult to write, and I'm still convinced that it's bad. I've rewritten it several times. I know its bad, and I apologize. Anyway It's 4:29 am, I'm cramping really bad, and as you can imagine, I'm not really in the mood to do Aizen side notes. -snorts- (Like you guys even asked for them.)

Anyway before we began, I'm going to to do shout outs, and I'd like to give an extra warm, mushy ridiculously large huge shout out to: Brighit Raven!!

Brighit Raven, in my last two chapters, has given me some of the best reviews I've ever had. She wants to translate my story into Portugese, and I've granted her permission to do so. AWESOME. The story is goin bilingual. Thanks Brighit Raven!! I'm not sure how mushy I can get without scaring you...'

More shoutouts to:

mymissmochakitty, NakeBenihime, Anicka, frosted heavens, Laura!! (Who has thoroughly proved that my story has demon powers because it has captured her soul. Oh dear gawd, please help tis child!!) MaiButterfly, DoodleNoodle-no-baka, and mateliin!

I didn't really get tah respond to all of you guys personally, but I took each and every review to heart! Trust me (I read some of them multiple times just to bask in their glory O.O)

As my ending statement, I shall kiss my peace fingers and say: I LOVE TEH AIZEN! KTHNX!

--
Chapter Three

The King & the Jester

The true consternation of all men is that there will be no end to anything, yet this was something that he relished. It was not presumptuous to linger within the mystery of his humanity.

"Pity. He will never have had you as I."

Aizen Sousuke stood still, his hands hanging limply at his side, while he stared down at her, weighing his thoughts.

He who is a god knows that there is time for everything, yet time for nothing…

"Good night, Orihime."

Only a gentle whisk of white robe and hakama indicated that he had taken leave of the room. And as he retreated down the hall, her weeping ghosted his heels with quiet persistence.

Not that he hadn't noticed, of course. It's just that he was far more interested in his next tea break.

)-(

Aizen sipped.

Perhaps the parting statement he'd given to Orihime was not the most congenial of farewells. The truth never was. How unfortunate.

In the immediate hours that he had receded from his guest's room, he'd consumed two cups of tea; and now, feeling quite merry, he was working on his third. The knowledge of the five long sought after deaths had rinsed the halls of Las Noches like a sashaying wave, and the escalation of moody arrancar had not displeased him…rather, settled him into a pleasant mood as well. Not that he was never in a pleasant mood, of course. In fact, his mood had been explicitly genuine since he'd taken his leave of the girl.

His lips overlapped the lacquered rim of his teacup, and he remembered, with minty satisfaction, the engagement that he had just incurred not half a night ago. His features rippled softly as he contemplated the extent of his advances.

The remarkable sensation of it melted into a rich lukewarmth, settling fluidly throughout the spread of his abdomen...it was not an unpleasant sensuality, though thoroughly curious, and it intensified as his mind's eye roamed the pronounced feminine landscape of her soft features. Baffling, indeed, that he should want to shiver at the lightest thought of her purity…baffling indeed, because Aizen did not engage in such things as "shivering".

Intrigued still was he with the sincerity of her innocence, mellifluous, which seemed to ripple out of recognition at the slightest indulgence of his touch. She was inexperienced. She was young. But that made the process all the more delicate, and the lightest tinge of pink on her cheeks was definitely a sign of that fluctuation. But that did not mean that he should tread delicately…oh no…however, a slovenly pace often made such a process all the more savory.

And perhaps she was unaware of the surrealism in which she lived...because the thought that a gentleman such as Aizen-sama was a monster was rather…interesting.

His lips quirked quietly, portraying a hint of his internal satisfaction.

Her companions had been disposed of and the Soul Society had withdrawn their troops…with of course, the exceptions of Kuchiki Rukia and Abarai Renji, who were both gone for good, unlike their human comrades. Pity.

Now there was no reason for them to save the girl. Their realization of her frank uselessness had turned them away from her in that neither was she a valuable alley or a deadly war tool. So she was not worth the risk of saving any longer, further proving that their rescue attempts were far more strategically geared towards war than were the intentions of Orihime's companions. And that was why Kurosaki Ichigo and the others were dead; intellectual defeciencies.

He had not known in the beginning whether he'd truly keep the girl or not. Her powers were of no relevance now. Therefore, she was without reason. However…Aizen always did as he pleased, and opted to keep her…

After all, what one could not do with boredom one could negate into a rather useful composition. And thus, Aizen Sousuke surmised, boredom was nothing but an illusion, a cusp between the nexus of that and is.

It took a great amount of distortion to twist fire into water, if water was that which is truly coveted, that is. He found the task of the entire process not extraneous, but highly satisfying in a way only he could understand.

But she was a bit different, this girl. She'd had the potential create a staggering conflagration, but not enough courage to light the kindling. Therefore…it would not be as hard to, quite blatantly, manipulate her.

"Ai-Aizen-sama…is the tea not to your liking?"

A small voice ascended to him from where Aizen was sitting and his eyes moved fractionally to gaze down at Yevgeny Ybarra.

His temporary lapse in silence had sent the arrancar into spasm of paranoia, and Yevgeny's retracted expression, displaying such worry, did not very well compliment his sharply pale features.

Yevgeny Ybarra was a rather frail looking hollow that rose to a pitying height of three foot and a half. Aizen had never truly forgotten his presence. But so unoriginal was this boy that his cognition had taken precedence, making him temporarily inconspicuous.

The boy squirmed uncomfortably under the supremacy of his master's passive gaze, nearly tipping out some of the bronze liquid in the jug that he was clutching.

"It is greatly to my liking. However," Yevgeny flinched, his heart tinkering against his ribcage. "You have yet to deliver sustenance to Inoue Orihime."

Yevgeny trembled, shrinking under his horned helmet ."A-a-ano, please forgive me, I am t-terribly sorry." He wheezed, swallowing a thick jet of air before blabbering out another fit of massacred excuses. "I-I it's just—"

"Hn." Aizen said reflectively, cutting off the arrancar's rambling. Yevgeny flinched doubly, his wide blue eyes radiating incandescent fear.

"That is quite convenient."

Yevgeny blinked fervently, baffled at the cryptic statement. "Su-sumimasen…I-I do not understand Aizen-sama."

Aizen moved his arm in one acute motion and Yevgeny felt his heart shatter…However, Aizen had merely reached into his robes, gracefully sporting a small square of folded parchment between his fore and middle fingers. He held it out before his subordinate, feigning pleasant ignorance towards the sudden bought of fright.

"Yevgeny," Aizen said mildly, "please be so kind as to deliver this to our guest."

"H-hai, Aizen-sama!!" Yevgeny breathed exasperatedly, relieved at a chance of repentance. "I'll get her breakfast right away!"

Switching pitcher hands, Yevgeny reached out and grasped the letter with trembling fingers. Bowing multiple times and managing to only spill a modicum of tea upon his uniform, Yevgeny Ybarra scampered from the room like a frightened puppy that was intent on his mission.

Aizen smiled.

Mourning and crying were natural responses to difficult situations.

But then again,

So was dying.

)-(

The door to the room opened brusquely, and in flooded a contagion of blinding halogen light that caused her to blink fervently. In the threshold stood the still silhouette of a familiar figure; Ulquiorra.

"Ulquiorra…?" Inoue inquired hoarsely, her whisper draped with that infectious sadness. She nudged herself awake, feeling a sense of sickly disorientation washing over as she sat up.

Orihime licked her ashen lips, but the taste she acquired was not hers. In reality, she had not truly tasted anything at all. It was the veracity that had slipped through the pores of her consciousness, seeping into that moment, externalizing into the taste that she knew was him. There was an unnamed feeling that flowed freely with this, but she daren't try it.

She felt as if she was going to vomit.

"Pity. He will never have had you as I."

"What is it?" She croaked, her voice trembling. Her lungs ached with the first dilations of awakening. Her heart ached. Her entire cardiovascular system hurt, swelled, tainted, searing hot…

Ulquiorra never averted his gaze from her as he sidestepped a cart of food being wheeled in.

"Eat." He commanded, his lips barely moving. He shut the door behind him loudly and pocketed his hoary white hands.

"I don't...I don't want to." She said thickly.

Ulquiorra's wide eyes seemed to obtain a layer of gleaming moisture...of opportunity. "So ka…" He started forward, the gentle clacking of his boats reverberating ominously off of the walls. "You wish for a more forceful approach."

Orihime pulled her bottom lip into her quivering mouth, suppressing the illusion of a depthless, unreasonable panic. Her hands began to shake. "Please…do not come any closer…"

"I believe that we have discussed this before." He countered solemnly. "If you do not eat, I can prepare alternative ways for you to gain your nutrients."

"I'm not hungry."

"That is unfortunate. I believe I will say it once more. Eat."

Orihime wobbled as she stood, then she lumbered over to the cart. She neatly uncovered the silver top from the dish and gazed down at the rations; a bowl of steaming, colorless broth, an assortment of deep, green vegetables covered in a pungent smelling sauce, two chopsticks, a sweet rice cake, and a small cup of tea.

Picking the chopsticks up in her shaking fingers, she downed the vegetables first, then gobbled up the rice cake. She wiped the crumbs from her mouth in a rather uncouth fashion before gulping down the tea in just one sitting. The broth came last, and she consumed it with slovenly intervals, her belly churning radically under the weight of unwanted food.

Once she was finished she stood motionless; bloated and sickly as if she had just conceived a writhing batch of fat tentacles.

"You are ordered to bathe."

"Bathe?" She repeated quietly, frowning at her abdominal contractions.

"Matte kudasai!!" Interjected a small, pleading voice.

A small arrancar dissolved from around the backside of the food cart, features screwed up in fretful anxiety.

"Inoue-sama!! Ohayogozaimasu!" He bowed with ridiculous enthusiasm and waved a piece of paper before her. "Aizen-sama wanted me to give you this! My name is Yevgeny Ybarra by the way, I'm so happy to meet Inoue-sama!"

Orihime managed to smile faintly at him before retrieving the letter from his hands. "Thank you, Yevgeny-kun."

A wet blush splashed over his narrow cheeks. "I-it's m-my d-duty, Inoue-sa-sama!"

He grasped hold of the massive cart at once, wheeled it away, and left her and Ulquiorra alone once more.

Orihime stared plaintively down at the letter…and quietly…laboriously…feeling her consciousness taper off into slight vertigo…she unfolded it. A cooling sensation prickled the skin of her heart as she began to read.

Inoue Orihime,

The calligraphy in which her name was formed was simple, but graceful; fluid, and elegant.

Regretfully, I will be quite busy in the coming two days. I will be unable to visit you in your quarters. However, your endurance of my absence will not have been in vain… It is likely that you seek more appeasing surroundings…I will gladly cater to those deficiencies. Allow me to invite you to dine with me upon the night of my return. Your acceptance is required for such an engagement.

Until then, Orihime…

Aizen Sousuke