The Challenge – Chap. 3

A/N: A much longer chapter. The first half is from Orihime's point of view, the second half from Aizen's.

Orihime stood quietly and allowed the two female Arrancar to drape the heavy white uniform around her and button the inner garment. They had refused to allow her to dress herself, insisting with voices chiming in unison that they were to serve her. At least the thick fabric was much warmer than her skimpy school outfit and more suitable for the cold air in Las Noches. The two girls were painfully polite, but she could sense raging anger in their reiatsu and was confused. What had she ever done to them? It made her feel off-balance. She was a prisoner here, and helpless. But the two, especially the black-haired girl, Loly, were filled with rage and… fear. She didn't understand.

She had been told she was "invited" to have dinner with Lord Aizen, and she understood that it was not really an invitation but a summons. It bewildered her. What did the powerful shinigami really want with her, a human? He had said those strange things about her power yesterday: "even better than temporal regression, the rejection of events." But she wasn't really that strong. She was useless in battle, a weak opponent. Surely he was not interested in the weak?

After dressing her, the girls led her through what felt like miles of long, white corridors, high-ceilinged, with wall sconces mounted at regular intervals. They were all alike, and Loly and Menoly took her through so many twists and turns that she was thoroughly lost by the time they arrived at a very wide and grand white corridor. She was brought to two huge double doors with brass fixtures. Menoly signaled by some means she could not see, and the doors swung open ponderously. Behind them lay a large antechamber with a white marble tile floor, lined with oversized carved wooden antique chairs upholstered in white satin. More wall sconces glowed at both sides of the room, but the light they cast was a warmer, yellowish tone.

The two Arrancar ushered her in through the antechamber to a vast, high-ceilinged sitting room beyond. Here a single huge Oriental carpet lay in the exact center of the room. At the far end, seated on a divan, was the Lord of Las Noches.

The two girls each dropped to one knee and bowed their heads. Orihime hastened to copy their actions.

"You may rise." She heard a note of warm amusement in his deep voice, and slowly got up. He had risen and approached the three of them. She raised her eyes to look directly into Aizen's deep brown ones. To her surprise, his expression was kindly and welcoming. He held out a hand to her.

"Come, my dear." Hesitantly, she took his hand. It was warm, and he clasped it over her fingers securely and comfortingly. "Let's get acquainted for a while before dinner is served, shall we?" He raised his eyebrows at Loly and Menoly, and they bowed their heads before scurrying out of the room.

He led her to the divan and settled her against one of the cushions before taking a seat beside her. There was a long, low white marble table in front of the couch. Upon it was placed an intricately wrought silver tray that held two decanters, one with red wine, and one water. An oval serving platter stacked with delicate canapés drew Orihime's attention. She was hungry. Aizen saw her looking and smiled. "Please," he said. "Help yourself."

She picked up a flaky pastry dotted with what looked like red pepper and stripes of mustard and popped it in her mouth. It was delicious, warm and almost melted in her mouth. She sighed without realizing it, and relaxed ever so slightly as the warm pastry reached her stomach. Aizen, watching her carefully, gave her another kindly smile. He handed her a wine glass full of ruby-colored liquid, and said, "How about a toast… to your new life among us here in Las Noches." He raised his own glass.

Orihime hesitated. She didn't want to be impolite, but she gathered her resolve to speak. "Um, I don't drink wine, because I'm not 21. I'm – I'm only 18."

Aizen lifted his eyebrows. "My dear Orihime, you are no longer a child. For the vast majority of human history, passage to womanhood was defined to occur at the onset of menarche." His eyes traveled over her well-developed body. At her blush, he continued, "It's merely an anomaly that current human laws set the definition of adulthood unusually late. In any event, the strictures of the world of the living no longer apply to you." His eyes crinkled. "You should enjoy life here to the fullest, as I have learned to since I arrived here."

When she continued to hesitate, he gently took the glass from her hand, brushing her fingers again, and poured water into it, creating a paler red mixture. "Very well; you can do as many cultures in the world of the living do, and water their wine." He handed her the glass. "There. Now it's perfectly acceptable for you to drink it. Half wine, half water. Come now. A toast: to the woman whose power trespasses into God's territory." He smiled at her over the rim of his glass, his eyes dark and compelling.

Obediently, she raised the glass to her lips and took a sip. It was not too strong, but she felt the liquid warming her deep inside, burning away the last of the cold of Las Noches. Aizen was watching her with that small smile on his lips, a smile with a hint of darkness that made her shiver. He was pushing her to violate her own limits, she knew, undoubtedly for his own purposes. It made her uncomfortable. How far could she defy him? But more importantly, why was he so interested in her?

She knew he was evil, had witnessed him casually order Rukia's death merely because she was no longer useful to him. His interest in her frightened her. What was his intent? What did he plan on making her do? And, would he order her killed when he lost interest?

He took her hand again. "Orihime," he said in a caressing voice, "do not fear me. You are far more valuable to me than Rukia ever was." She gasped. Could he read her mind?

"No, I am not reading your mind," he replied with a low chuckle. He reached out with his slender hand and touched her cheek. "Only your face." His voice dropped nearly to a whisper. "Such a beautiful, expressive face. So unappreciated. That foolish boy, not seeing the value of what he has in front of him…"

She turned away, her face burning. How could he know her innermost thoughts?

"How many times have you had to watch from the sidelines while he fawns over that shinigami woman? Has he ever once expressed an interest in you?"

Her face was on fire, Aizen's words blazing into her soul, as she refused to meet his eyes. "Yes, I know he was the one person you selected to say goodbye to in the world of the living… choosing him over your own best friend… but is he worthy of your devotion? Or has he chosen another?" Orihime's head whirled as his words pierced her heart. He moved closer to her on the couch, both her hands captured by his now. She could feel his body heat, the banked inferno of his reiatsu. He had reined in his spiritual pressure, but this close, she could feel tendrils of it intertwining with hers, curling around her body. It almost seemed to be vibrating against her skin, insinuating itself underneath her clothes, making every inch of her body tingle and vibrate in sympathy… was he doing this on purpose?

She looked up at him and wished she hadn't. This close, he was even more beautiful, his large, liquid-center brown eyes focused on hers, his faintly woodsy scent more pronounced, reminding her of a wild, dark forest at nighttime, feral, full of mystery, power, and danger. She sucked in her breath unevenly. She felt like she was drowning in his reiatsu, going under in a whirlpool of energy fueled by her own treacherous desires. Her chest heaved.

Aizen delicately slid one hand up the back of her neck and threaded his fingers into her hair. Then he leaned in closer and she realized with panic that he was going to kiss her. She froze, unable to decide what to do. She should push him away, but could she really refuse him? She was a prisoner here. Then his lips touched hers. They were soft and warm and tasted faintly of wine. A tingling began at her lips but spread with a rush throughout her body, making her feel boneless. His lips caressed hers gently.

She had never been kissed before, had always imagined that someday she and Ichigo would kiss, but she was unprepared for the intensity of this experience. In response to his touch, she felt her own reiatsu rise higher than it had ever gone before, swirling to meet his, which also rose, a vibrating storm of power, spiraling higher on the tide of her escalating energy. It was as though the world had narrowed to the touch between the two of them, as though an immense amount of energy was being channeled into the single physical contact. It was strange… strange and confusing and heady. She suddenly realized she did not want it to stop.

He finally pulled away and looked at her from inches away, an expression of awe on his face. "This is what happens when gods kiss," he whispered. "Orihime, you are a fitting partner for me… you and no one else."

Orihime stared at him, her heart racing. She did not want to have any feelings for this man, for he was evil, heartless and selfish… she knew he could not possibly care for her… he must surely be lying.

And yet… a part of her wished with all her might that what he was saying was true.

XxXxXxX

Aizen leaned back from the kiss and studied Orihime, even as he continued playing his part with none of his inner thoughts showing on his face. He could see she was confused and weakening already. His initial analysis of her personality had been correct. She was one of those who had not received enough love as a child, and as a result was desperate for attention and affection. She tried to hide it with that light-hearted, ditzy mask, but underneath she was starving. By stroking her ego, insisting that her powers rivaled that of a god, he was playing right into her insecurities.

That had always been his gift, the ability to almost instantly grasp the essential nature of an individual's personality, to unerringly locate their weak areas, the direct paths to control of their soul. He couldn't remember when he hadn't been able to effortlessly manipulate most people's emotions, ambitions, and fears. Orihime Inoue was as easy for him to read as anyone else.

She would conclude he wanted her for her power and her body and nothing else. But in reality… he had many other plans. He needed an agent in the human world. Orihime was intelligent enough to serve his purposes, if he could numb her conscience and essential compassion sufficiently to convince her to carry out his orders. He wanted her mind in his service as well. To do that, he had to make sure she believed that all parts of her – her mind, body, and soul – belonged to him utterly.

It would not do to use her in the same way he had used Hinamori. That had been only a partially successful experiment. The young shinigami had adored him, and he had been curious to see how far he could exploit her adoration without actually seducing her. She had clearly been desperate for him to notice her romantically; by showing her kindness, allowing her to get close to him, even visit him in his bedroom, all without a hint of romantic or sexual interest, he had fanned the flames of her desire and kept her just on the near edge of emotional collapse. She had been hopelessly drawn to him but constantly frustrated by his kindly, fatherly attitude toward her; a perfect state for keeping someone both sensitive to his whims and utterly obedient. He had been curious to see how effectively he could make use of her to carry out murder simply by relying on emotional driving factors.

Although the experiment had failed, it had yielded valuable knowledge. Pure, irrational emotion had its place, and was an extremely effective tool in the heat of battle; for example, to induce his opponents to take foolish risks due to their hatred of him. However, it was inconsistent, and could be at least partially derailed by reasoned arguments. Hinamori had failed at the tasks he had driven her to with his manipulations, in part because it went against her own nature and in part because her friends were able to bring her back to rationality. As a long-term method of control, he preferred more effectual means to secure his subordinates' loyalty. With Orihime, he would use a different technique.

For one thing, he had already decided to take her to bed. He found her physically more attractive than Hinamori, whose body type was still almost that of a child. He had never desired to bed a child. With Orihime, he suspected that waking her womanly passions would cement her loyalty to him. He needed her to be able to think rationally and clearly in the position he would place her in, to make reasoned decisions based on his own best interest.

It was unlikely that his original plan to make the Royal Key would fail. However, he had not gotten where he was by failing to make contingency plans. In the event that he was defeated by the Soul Society, his agents there would still serve him. But the rise of power of the Kurosaki boy made it clear that a new center of influence had developed in the human world. Urahara was interested in him as well. The girl was perfectly placed to be in the center of things. Her innocence and obvious compassion would make her extremely unlikely to be suspected of being his agent.

And as he had already observed, she was very easy to underestimate. He doubted that any of the humans or shinigami knew of the potential for ferocious inner passion and bravery she had evinced during her abduction. They had seen her often falter visibly in her resolve, but Aizen knew the change the Hougyoku had made in her demonstrated the power of her will. He had deduced that it was likely she would never manifest her resolve for herself, but only in service of another. If he could focus that passion and resolve on himself, in service of his will, she could become an extremely effective tool, a concealed and deadly weapon. He already had several ideas of how she could use her unique abilities to further his goals. She could become, in effect, an additional key to the spirit dimension.

A chime rang, indicating that dinner was ready. He rose and graciously offered his arm to Orihime, playing the part of an attentive gentleman with the ease of a century of practice. As she took it hesitantly, he gently caressed her body with reiatsu again. Having never had a lover who could manipulate spirit energy, she was unlikely to be aware of the effects it would have on her libido. It was even possible that he could seduce her tonight, if all went well.

That would advance his plans ahead of schedule. She would be afraid that a physical conquest was all he was after, that he did not really care about her personally. By following an evening of lovemaking with gentle attentiveness and continued ego-stroking, he would undermine that fear and ensure that she fell for him completely. Plus, he was quite familiar with making use of the delightful guilt most virgins felt after they had succumbed to his blandishments. It could easily be twisted to his own purposes.

They walked out to the spacious balcony overlooking the desert of Hueco Mundo. As always, the crescent moon hung in the velvet sky against a blaze of stars. The white sands of the desert were silent and still, but a slight breeze brought the scent of creosote from the desert floor far below.

A single table set for two stood in the middle of the balcony, draped with an elegant white linen tablecloth. Two tall candles had been lit at its center. He held one of the chairs for Orihime to seat herself, then slid it in smoothly. He could tell from her awkwardness that she had rarely, if ever, received even this small courtesy. She trembled as his hands brushed her skin. He felt a delicious tremor of anticipation in response.

She was already half under his spell. He could see it was going to be a very pleasurable evening.