The Challenge – Chap. 9

A/N: I hope you enjoy this chapter, but be warned: it's quite dark.

Warnings: dark; mild lemon; heavy-duty angst.

(Originally posted 2/19/2011.)

XxXxXxX

Aizen rose as Orihime entered the room. "My dear Orihime. Such a pleasure to see you again." He took her face in his hands, kissed her gently full on the lips. "Please, have a seat." He gestured to the table, already set with a sumptuous dinner. Her nostrils flared unconsciously at the delicious odors rising from the covered dishes.

She hesitated, and he tilted his head. "Would you prefer, perhaps, to relax on the couch for a few minutes?"

She flushed at his gesture to where the events of the previous evening had transpired. "No. No, thank you. I'm ready for dinner."

He smirked. As he took her hand to lead her to the table, he paused. Scanning her reiatsu as he always did when others entered his presence, he had noticed something different. Her energy field… was disturbed. It had somehow transformed. The shape… no, the texture… of her energy was altered. He focused his attention and probed her more deeply.

There was a foreign substance within her. His eyes narrowed. Had one of his enemies planted some type of reiatsu device within her, perhaps a bomb set to detonate in his presence? Rapidly, he created a reiatsu shield around her, a barrier that would keep him safe in the event of an attack. He was nothing if not cautious.

She felt the shield appear around her and her head came up in surprise. She stretched out one arm to feel the barrier, her fingers spread.

He gave a reassuring smile to calm her. "Don't worry. I've simply created a reiatsu shield around you. I detected a change in your energy field and I am examining it."

"Oh! Okay, then. Thank you." She sat down at the table and quietly folded her hands in her lap.

"My dear, I'm afraid I have to ask you to wait for a moment before beginning dinner." She was clearly ignorant of any schemes, he realized as he continued to probe. The reiatsu frequencies that comprised her mental activities were clear and untainted with deceit. As always, her mind was open to him. If anything had been done to her, it had been without her consent.

She appeared puzzled, but sat without complaint. Her face was guileless and trusting, and he felt a pang of something odd. Not at the danger to himself, which he was used to and had dealt with many times. A man in his position always had many enemies. No, the feeling was about her, and the danger to her life. Surprised at his own reaction, he told himself that of course she would be vulnerable to being used by his enemies. He laughed inwardly. He couldn't be feeling protective of her. That would be a weakness, and he had none.

He continued to examine her reiatsu carefully. After a moment he stopped. "My dear. This is a surprise." He arched an eyebrow. "Do you realize you're pregnant?"

Her eyes widened with shock. "Pregnant?" Her voice cracked on the second syllable. "You mean, with a baby?"

He laughed as he continued to inspect the entire frequency domain of her reiatsu. "That is how it usually works for humans." His eyes narrowed. "And it appears to be my child."

"Well, who else's would it be?" asked Orihime with a hint of belligerence. "You're the only one who's ever… I mean I haven't…" She trailed off, blushing.

Aizen leaned back, relaxed as always, taking this new development in stride. He smiled. "I suppose congratulations are in order, my dear."

"Thank you," said Orihime. "But does this mean I'll need to take care of a baby? Because I'm really kind of young for that. And I'm supposed to finish high school…" Her voice died out.

"I'm sure we can find you a nursemaid among the Arrancar. Your schooling would not need to be interrupted." Aizen was distracted, still running his hands over her body, thoughts turned inward, as he started to realize the complications that could ensue from this event.

Yet he had to admit to himself that he felt oddly proud. He had never fathered a child before. Shinigami almost never produced offspring. Orihime, worried, cupped her hands protectively over her belly. He needed to reassure her, first of all. He could decide what to do later. First, he dropped the reiatsu shield so he could touch her. There was no danger now.

"My dear Orihime. You should be happy. This is a joyous occasion." He leaned over and kissed her gently. "This is a tangible expression of our love."

She felt confused and anxious. "Are you happy about it?" She had heard of too many men who didn't want children, who dumped their girlfriends when they got pregnant. Would Aizen be so irresponsible? She was surprised to find that she cared what he thought. She wanted him to want her child, she realized with sudden shock.

"Of course I'm happy. As a matter of fact, I'm ecstatic. This means we have a future together. We're bound together by this child." His gaze locked on hers. "A fact that pleases me very much."

She smiled up at him tentatively, her mind whirling. This was too confusing. She had to sort through her own feelings while trying to sift truth from lies in Aizen's words. Then she shook her head mentally. Strong. She needed to be strong. Aizen was playing the role of the proud father. She would follow his lead. She would keep her emotions under control. She took a calming breath and allowed her smile to widen slightly.

He returned the smile. "Now, since you'll be eating for two…" he said as he took one of the silver covers off a serving dish and ladled food onto her plate, "you'll need to get started on dinner." Her confusion remained visible on her face. His own expression betrayed nothing of the complex thoughts running through his own mind. This was merely another interesting and unexpected situation he would turn to his own advantage. Nothing more.

In the meantime, he had quite an enjoyable evening planned, and he did not intend to let any distractions interfere with his plans or his pleasure. He smiled warmly at her and sent out calming vibrations through his reiatsu, including a few tendrils that caressed her body gently with long, lingering strokes. He ran one hand lightly through her hair. He felt her tremble underneath his touch, and his smile turned slightly dark.

XxXxXxX

The slender white candles on the maroon tablecloth had burned down almost to stubs by the time the last course of the elegant dinner was served.

Orihime leaned back and sighed. Each course had been more delicious than the last, and she could not remember feeling so full after a meal. She had tucked away a prodigious amount of food, but Aizen had refrained from commenting on it. Of course, she always ate enough for about five people, but he probably didn't know that.

She was feeling comfortable and relaxed. Aizen had continued to reassure her that he was pleased with her pregnancy, but then had turned the conversation to other topics, expressing such interest in her rather ordinary life that she had at first been puzzled, then engaged and flattered by his attention and apparent fascination with her stories. She knew she had gone a bit overboard with a few fanciful stories, but he hadn't seemed to mind.

She had been worried that he would try to get her to drink more alcohol, and had firmly resolved to say no to even a sip after last night's debacle. However, he had not even offered any this evening, instead sipping himself from a single glass of blood-red wine. She had helped herself from a large flagon of water on the table. Everything was going well, and she congratulated herself on keeping up with Aizen's clever wit as they shared the perfectly prepared meal.

He sat close to her, large dark eyes fixed on hers, taking in her every word as though it was the most appealing thing he had ever heard. Even though she knew he must be lying to her, tricking her, she could not keep herself from being pleased by his attention. With mingled shame and rueful amusement, she thought to herself that it was exciting even to be lied to by Aizen Sousuke.

And once again she felt her treacherous body responding to his nearness, his warm thigh pressed against hers, his fingers stroking her hair or trailing across her throat. He did not miss an opportunity to touch her, and each time he did, her body thrilled to the contact. She could almost not bear how attracted she was to him. She knew what was going to happen again tonight, and even though she told herself she should remain aloof, she could not help herself. She found herself leaning into him on the narrow loveseat, turning her face into his hand, leaving her hand out on the table where he could play with her fingertips. She wanted him to touch her, stroke her, take her under his control again. She shivered under his touch, and the shiver was intensely pleasurable.

Even though her mind was unclouded by alcohol tonight, it was hazed with desire. And he was acting pleased with her, pleased that she would have his child… didn't that make her special, precious? She would be the mother of Aizen Sousuke's child. She could not help thinking that it changed everything. He had told her he had never fathered a child before, that this would be his first, his only. He gazed at her with his large, expressive, deep brown eyes, took her hands in his, and told her how much it meant to him.

She had no idea if he was telling the truth or not.

His hands were on her, all over her, and his mouth reached for hers. She leaned into him eagerly, feeling the deep thrumming in her blood, the excitement of lust that had already become familiar to her, and her heart quickened. He unbuttoned her robes, slipped his fingers and then his mouth and tongue underneath the fabric. She arched on the seat, bared her breasts to him. Her skin sparked at every touch of his long and beautiful fingers, of his flickering tongue. She felt the need rise in her, and her mouth became greedy, her hands avid on his firm, well-muscled body. She became someone else under Aizen's hands, and for a time it seemed that it did not matter.

He kissed her, nipped at her lower lip, licked the insides of her ears until she quivered and moaned. And when he slid his hands deep under her dress and cupped her between her thighs, she was ready for him. He made a pleased noise in his throat and scooped her up from the seat, stood with her in his arms. She closed her eyes and clung to him, laying her cheek against his chest and hearing his heart beat fast beneath his white robe.

He shunpoed into his dimly lit bedroom and laid her carefully on the large bed, murmuring to her. Slowly and with infinite tenderness, he undressed her, pausing every now and then to trail his fingers across her skin or lay a line of kisses across her throat or belly.

He undressed himself swiftly and crawled onto the bed, those large, liquid eyes gazing at her until she felt she could drown in them. He undid her, made her helpless with desire, until all she wanted was to please him and be pleased by him. She locked her legs around his waist, and she gasped at how he filled her, completed her. She was lost, lost in his eyes and his hands; he had captured her, taken her body and soul, and as he brought her to the cliff of pleasure and dropped her over it, she felt him shudder against her, and together they fell into the darkness.

XxXxXxX

Sometime later, Orihime woke in the dark in the large bedroom, coming awake abruptly, her heart racing as though she had just received a shock. She glanced around in confusion. Aizen's tower bedroom had two windows that faced into the Las Noches dome, where the artificial sun rose at six a.m. every morning and lit the interior of the room with its brilliant, cloudless glare.

But it was still dark now, so it must still be the middle of the night. The two windows with open curtains showed only the eternal night sky, the slowly wheeling stars forming a backdrop for the reversed crescent moon, its pale light showing Aizen asleep in bed beside her. His breathing was deep and slow, one arm draped in casual possessiveness over her naked body. She curled up against his chest and felt his arm tighten around her in his sleep. But she was abruptly too alert to sleep. She stared at the high, dim ceiling. In the darkness, she could not see the many luxuries of the beautiful, high-ceilinged room, but she knew they were there. Aizen slept in a room fit for a king, under an arched ceiling covered with frescoes. Gilded sconces encased delicate blown-glass light globes scattered across the walls, and intricately carved teak doors alternated with tall, arched windows on all four sides.

What did it mean for her to be the mother of this man's child? It was a terrifying, huge thought. She still did not really understand or believe it. She turned her attention inward, trying to sense the reiatsu of the tiny life within, but her untrained perceptions were rudimentary and she could detect nothing clearly. Was Aizen was telling the truth about her pregnancy?

But why would he lie? It did not seem that he would have anything to gain by it. And she did feel… different. As though her own reiatsu had a new, rougher, almost pebbled texture to it. Her body had clearly changed; a new set of hormones must be coursing through her system. She laid her palms on her still-flat belly. Somewhere deep within her, she remembered from her health classes, new organs were beginning to grow, new sets of blood vessels extending to nurture the tiny spark of life. Her body was metamorphosing into something wholly other.

She drew in her breath, frightened at the changes within. And not just to her body, but also her mind. She found that she could no longer think of the father of her child as an enemy. Her plans to destroy the Hougyoku winked and disappeared into thin air. As Aizen had said, she was now bound to him.

But she did not feel happy about it. She felt the deep link almost as though she had a chain wound into her womb, a shackle that bound her to the Lord of Las Noches with divine strength. Ichigo and her friends had never been so far away. She reached out with her reiatsu and felt nothing. Had they given up on rescuing her? Had they been killed? She could feel nothing.

Her eyes brimmed with tears, warm salty wetness seeped onto her cheeks, and she felt herself sinking into guilt and sorrow. What had she become?

Then she stopped, listening. Far below her, on the long stairway leading up to Aizen's bedroom, she heard pounding feet.

Beside her, Aizen stirred and sat up, instantly alert. He glanced at the sword stand beside his bed, but he did not move for his zanpakutou. Instead, he propped himself up against the pillows and curled an arm around Orihime. With his other hand he gestured, and light flooded the room. Orihime blinked in the sudden brightness.

The door of Aizen's bedroom flew open and banged against the wall. Orihime looked up in shock as an orange-haired youth with a fierce scowl ran in, brandishing his huge zanpakutou.

"Aizen, you bastard, I'm going to kill you!" Ichigo shouted, skidding to a stop.

Aizen relaxed against the pillows and smiled. He didn't even raise his spiritual pressure.

"Kurosaki Ichigo," he said softly. "It's rude to interrupt lovers in their bed."

Ichigo's grip on his sword wavered. He had noticed Orihime and his face blanched. "Inoue?" he squeaked, his voice breaking and his sword arm dropping to his side. He stared at her, his weapon completely forgotten.

"Kurosaki-kun," Orihime whispered. Her face burned with embarrassment. She wanted to sink into the floor and die. This was the worst possible scenario. Ichigo had risked his life to rescue her, only to find her in his enemy's bed. She hung her head, hoping that he would kill her and at last bring her relief from her guilt.

"What— what are you doing?" he asked, his voice faint.

Aizen put an arm around Orihime and smirked. He was clearly enjoying the situation. "What does it look like, Ichigo? Orihime is my lover now."

"Your— lover?"

"I suggest you gather up your rag-tag band of friends and go home. I'll allow you to keep your lives if you refrain from further violence against my subjects."

"Inoue…" Ichigo glanced at Orihime with agony written all over his face. "This can't be true." His face cleared and he scowled angrily at Aizen. "This is Kyouka Suigetsu, isn't it? You've created an illusion to fool me."

Aizen chuckled. "You know as well as I do that I've never released my shikai in front of you, Ichigo. Much as you would like it to be an illusion, I'm afraid that you are seeing reality. Orihime has chosen me."

"You must have tricked her, or trapped her somehow," Ichigo cried. "Inoue, I know he's forced you into this." He glared at Aizen and pointed his sword at him again. "Release her and let her come back with me, and I'll allow you to live."

This time Aizen laughed out loud. "Kurosaki-sama is generous," he replied in a mocking tone. "You are in the heart of my territory, and you offer me my life?" His expression calmed. "Why don't you ask Orihime to give you her own answer?"

"I won't believe anything she says in front of you. You've got her under control somehow. I came to rescue her and I will." He raised his sword.

Aizen leaned back into the pillows. "If you believe this is an illusion, how do you know that when you attack me with that oversized sword, that you won't be stabbing your own… friend? If I were using Kyouka Suigetsu, I could control your five senses and make you believe that I was in front of you when it was actually Orihime."

Ichigo's face darkened. "Well, what is it now, Aizen? First you say you haven't released your shikai before me, now you say you're using it. What is the truth?"

"There is no truth, Ichigo. And you will never know around me."

Scowling, Ichigo advanced, zanpakutou held high. Aizen didn't move; he stayed relaxed against the pillows, utterly still as Ichigo placed the tip of his sword at Aizen's naked chest. There was a tense silence.

Abruptly, Ichigo's face fell and he pulled his sword away. "Damn you, Aizen. You've got me. I can't take the chance. Sorry, Inoue."

"Tell Ichigo you'd like him to leave, Orihime," Aizen said, lips curling in triumph.

Orihime whispered, not daring to look Ichigo in the eyes, "He's right, Kurosaki-kun. Please— leave here. Don't think about rescuing me anymore. Please."

"Inoue—" he said, reaching out to her. "I don't believe that's what you really want."

She glared up at him. "Believe it! I've promised myself to Aizen-sama. There's nothing you can do about it, so—" Her resolve suddenly broke and she dropped her eyes. "So please leave, Kurosaki-kun. I want you to be safe. Goodbye, Kurosaki-kun. Please… don't think too harshly of me."

"No." He shook his head.

At that, Aizen raised his spiritual pressure. Orihime noticed he was directing it exclusively at Ichigo, for it did not affect her, but the youth gasped and fell to his knees on the floor, his sword clattering to his side.

"Be grateful I don't kill you." Aizen's voice was cold. "You have invaded my home, killed my people, and threatened me and my loved one in my bed. It is only because I wish to spare Orihime pain that I am allowing you to leave unscathed. Don't try my patience any longer."

There was a pounding on the stairs outside, and two Arrancar guards rushed into the room, swords drawn. They stopped short at the sight of Ichigo crumpled on the floor.

Aizen's voice was soft. "Take him and his friends and send them back to the world of the living. They are to be allowed to depart unharmed if they cooperate and agree to leave immediately, without further fighting. However, should they resist in any way, you have my permission to kill them."

"Hai, Aizen-sama," said one of the guards. They grabbed Ichigo's arms and hustled him out of the room.

Orihime felt cold, as cold as though her whole body had turned to ice. Aizen slipped his arms around her. "Ssh," he whispered into her hair, kissing the top of her head. "Hush, it's all right now, you're safe with me."

Orihime thought to herself, blocks of ice can't be hurt. They can't feel anything. They're always safe. She stared sightlessly out the window at the unchanging night sky.

"Don't worry," Aizen said softly, a calm smile on his face once more. "I'll protect you, Orihime." He passed his hand over her eyes and she felt herself slipping into sleep.

XxXxXxX

Orihime woke up that morning back in her own room. She sat up abruptly and looked around. She did not remember coming back. The memories of the night before surged into her consciousness. The dinner with Aizen. Him telling her she was pregnant. Once again, she stopped and checked her own reiatsu, felt that strange, mottled texture, so different from normal.

They had made love. She felt a blush rise on her cheeks. Then… Ichigo had burst in…

She felt cold, ice at her heart, a frozen dagger piercing her soul. She had believed last night that surely she had lost him forever, had lost her true love, her soul mate, the one she had believed she would love for five lifetimes and beyond. But what had really happened? It had been strange, she thought, that she, who could always sense Ichigo's reiatsu from anywhere, had been unable to sense him on the stairs as he approached.

More… she couldn't remember feeling his reiatsu anywhere in the room last night. She took a sharp breath as her heart began to thud.

Had it really been him? She reached out with her senses.

There. She could feel him. Ichigo was somewhere in Hueco Mundo, still fighting. He had not been escorted out by Aizen's guards. It must have all been an illusion; Aizen had been using Kyouka Suigetsu on her.

But why?

Angrily, she wiped the tears away and got out of bed. She went into the bathroom and took a hot shower, but it did not warm her. Instead, cold anger encased her, and she welcomed it. Anger would nurture her; it would give her strength.

And she would need strength now, to sustain herself against Aizen's games. He said he loved her, acted like he cherished her, but then he amused himself by playing games with her mind and body. By tormenting her. She dressed herself with fury, jabbed her arms through her sleeves, tied the obi of her dress with a sharp tug, and shoved a brush through her hair.

Then she sat at her table and stared at the wall.

The door opened and she glanced up, scowling. Gin had entered her room without knocking again. She beetled her eyebrows, emboldened by her rage. "I would appreciate it if you would knock before entering."

Gin laughed and set one hip on her table. "I'm second-in-command here. I don't need permission to enter one of our prisoners' cells." His accent, and his friendly attitude from yesterday, had disappeared.

Frowning, she turned her face away.

Gin took her chin in his long fingers and forced her to face him. "You look troubled," he mused, studying her face. "Is anything wrong?"

She flushed. "Nothing's wrong." Her eyes fired with anger. "Unless you call being kidnapped and kept prisoner wrong. But I suppose such criminal acts don't bother you."

He laughed. "My dear young girl, we are at war. As such, our actions are not to be considered criminal, but strategic." He gestured at the room. "And can you deny that we have treated you well? We have given you more physical comforts than most prisoners. Indeed, even more than we ourselves would be given, should Soul Society capture us."

"I don't like being held here against my will."

"Ah, but is it really against your will?" He smiled more widely at her. "I have kept track of your movements, my dear. The nights you've spent in Aizen-sama's personal quarters? I know, for instance, that you were there again last night." He traced her cheek with his fingers. "And as a matter of fact, I can detect his reiatsu signature on you. In you. You carry his seed now, don't you?"

She blushed bright red, and he regarded her with amusement. "You're really one of us now, aren't you. Soul Society, you know, would condemn you as a traitor for sure." He brought his face close to hers and lowered his voice to a whisper. "They'll never forgive Aizen-sama for making a fool out of them. Even if he proves that all he did was to benefit the three worlds, they'll still brand him as evil. And now that you have gone to Aizen-sama's bed, you will be tarred with the same brush."

She turned away, fiddling with the fastenings of her uniform.

"You've betrayed your friends, allied with Soul Society's worst enemy," he said. "And what's more, there's no way to hide it from them." He gestured at her belly. "You carry the reiatsu signature of the enemy within you."

She flushed again.

"Do you know," he mused, "that Soul Society believes that allies of a traitor are also traitors? Have you realized what that means for your friends who have come here to rescue you?"

"What? They surely can't be blamed for my actions."

"Oh, but they can." His smile widened. "Soul Society doesn't believe in that pathetically soft human ideology, 'innocent until proven guilty.' The child you carry irrevocably links both you and your friends to Soul Society's enemies." He opened his eyes. His blue-green gaze was intense. "Unless, of course, you can convince them that you were impregnated unwillingly."

"But… how could they believe that? You've already told me they think I came here of my own free will. What more will they think when I give birth to the child of their enemy?"

He leaned closer, his smile disappearing. "What if the child no longer existed?"

Orihime gasped and laid her hands protectively over her belly. "What are you saying?"

He said softly, "Just so you know, the surveillance cameras in this room are off. They have been off each time I visited you. No one will know I've been here."

Fear flooded her. "Are you saying you're going to kill my child?"

He smirked. "Of course not. I would never do such a terrible thing."

She sat back, took a breath she didn't realize she had been holding.

"But I must point out that fetus isn't really a child yet. It's an amorphous cluster of cells. An interloper within your body."

"No. I see where you're going with this. I would never agree to an abortion."

He leaned back, scrutinized her from under closed lids. "Then let's consider what possibilities the future holds. Let's say your friends are successful in rescuing you. Perhaps you could persuade Aizen-sama to… shall we say, be a little less vigorous in pursuing them." He paused to eye her. "So you return to the world of the living with your friends. A few months from now, it becomes clear that you have a little surprise. Of course, the question that will inevitably arise will be, 'who is the father?'

"Of course, once Aizen-sama wins his little game with Soul Society, it might not matter. But that might take a while. In the meantime, Soul Society will examine you and the baby's reiatsu. They will determine paternity. They will conclude that you are a traitor, and what's more, your friends are all traitors for helping to rescue you and the child of their greatest enemy.

"Soul Society doesn't bother with tedious human legalities like trials. You will be executed before you have a chance to give birth to the abomination. And your friends will be executed as accessories to your crime."

"No. That can't be," she whispered.

"I've been an officer in the Soul Society for a hundred years. I've seen this type of travesty of justice many times. Why do you think I agreed to join Aizen-sama in his rebellion? Was it merely for more power?" He smiled. "As a captain in the Soul Society, I had nearly absolute power. I held the lives of everyone in my division in my hands. If I so chose, I could execute anyone, and no questions were asked. Indeed, I have exercised that prerogative many times." His smile turned dark. "By going back to the human world, carrying your child, you will sign your friends' death warrants. Not to mention yours and your child's."

She clutched the table, tendons standing out on the back of her hands. "Then I'll stay here. I'll ask Aizen-sama if I can stay."

"And— perhaps— he would grant your wish. But consider what would happen then. Your friends are here. They are not going to leave without you. Aizen-sama might choose not to send his strongest forces against them. They would then batter their way into the palace, and would find you in your room."

She squeezed her eyes shut.

"Do you think they would listen to your protests? If you tell them you are carrying Aizen-sama's child, you've condemned them to death for knowingly aiding and abetting the enemy. If you make up a story as to why you have to stay, do you think Kurosaki Ichigo will listen? They will believe you have been brainwashed and will carry you out by force."

She put her fists against her forehead. Yes. It was all true.

"So what is the other option?" the silky voice went on smoothly. "The only way your friends will fail to rescue you is if they are killed. Undoubtedly, we could accomplish this, by sending our strongest Espada against the upstarts. But that would defeat your entire purpose, wouldn't it."

He moved closer, lowered his voice. "The only way to save your friends is to allow them to rescue you, and to return to the human world untainted. Your desire to save your friends is a shackle that restricts your behavior and allows you only one choice."

"No," Orihime cried, her eyes squeezed shut in agony. She took a deep breath. "What would Aizen-sama say if I… asked him about ending this pregnancy?"

His smile twisted. "Once you tell him, you will have abdicated your ability to make the decision. Aizen-sama will choose the path that suits him the best. He doesn't care about your friends' lives."

Orihime dropped her face into her hands. "But… if I do it, then he'll find out. And then… what will become of me, and my friends?"

He shrugged. "Aizen-sama is a very practical man. Once the deed is done, he will accept reality. And… did he want this child? Did he plan it?"

"I don't know. No. He was surprised."

"As I would have thought. Human-shinigami hybrids are very rare, you know," he added. "Kurosaki Ichigo's birth was quite an event." His eyes grew misty with memory. "And they have… unusual abilities. As you are no doubt familiar with. They are usually targets for hollows, and most don't survive long. That Kurosaki Ichigo still exists is a tribute to Kurosaki Isshin's power and determination. And training."

His voice became low and intense. "You may also be basing your assumptions about Aizen-sama's reaction... on human behavior upon producing offspring. That would be a tactical error. Aizen-sama has become immortal. An immortal has no need of an heir. A shinigami-human hybrid with Aizen Sousuke's blood would be a powerful being… perhaps even the most powerful being in existence. If Aizen-sama holds the spirit throne, the child would be the only competitor. The only rival." He glanced at her. "Do I need to tell you how Aizen Sousuke treats rivals?"

She shook her head, trembling, and wrapped her arms around her body.

"If this is all true," she whispered, "then I will need to think about… ending the pregnancy."

"Take your time. Think about it all you like." He stood up. "Until your friends get here, which I estimate will be within 24 hours." He grinned. "I would think fast if I were you."

"How would I even get an abortion here?" She shuddered. "I don't want to go to Szayel."

"Don't you realize? You don't need anyone." He opened his eyes wide. "You have the power to reject events, to make things as they were before. You don't even need an abortion. You don't need to worry about taking a life. All you have to do... is undo the event that happened within your own body." His bright, blue-green eyes were intense. "Use your powers to simply make yourself as you were before. Your conscience will be clear, as there will never have been a life there at all."

With that, he left the room. She did not see his smile return as he walked back to his chambers.

XxXxXxX

Orihime stared at the wall blankly. Gin's words echoed in her head, and she folded her hands protectively about her belly, considered the terrible choice she had in front of her. To unmake her child… as though he or she never had been… how could she do that?

And yet, if she did not, she was condemning all her friends to death. She could not allow that. Not after she had betrayed them by sleeping with Aizen. How could she live with that, if Ichigo were ever to really find out? She shuddered at the memory of the image of him walking in on the two of them in Aizen's bed.

Orihime trembled at the nightmare that played itself out again in her mind. Ichigo would resist, she knew. And be killed. And that was even without her pregnancy coming into the picture. Who knew how much worse that would make things?

She bent her head. Oh, what should she do?