The Challenge – Chap. 15

A/N: In this story line, Aizen faced the Gotei 13 as in canon, but there are some small but crucial differences that will be revealed in this chapter. This story deviates from canon after chapter 314.

(Originally posted 9/13/11.)

XxXxXxX

Sensory deprivation. It might have driven a lesser man insane.

He was bound hand and foot to a chair infused with reiatsu-deadening material; even his eyes and mouth were bound. In the dark cavern of his mind, locked away in a dark cell, all his senses deadened, he waited.

What was the passage of time to an immortal?

He had always been a patient man, but what he was being forced to endure now was one of the most difficult trials he had faced. Still, it was merely another setback. In the silence of his cell, he was calm and serene.

There were even advantages to his situation. Fewer distractions, for one. He could focus on his thoughts, and re-engineer his plans with extraordinary clarity. He could see the minor errors and miscalculations he had made, and recompute the possibilities. It was a marvelous opportunity for thinking and contemplation, what he had always done best, now taken to the nth degree. And in the meantime, he slowly worked at the weaknesses in the bindings that held him.

For there were always weak spots… in anything. With the heightened sensitivity his mind derived from sensory deprivation, he carefully, painstakingly sought out the tiniest of flaws in the bindings and delicately nudged them further apart. His powers were sealed away, but the Hougyoku still pulsed sluggishly beneath all the bindings. They had been unable to take it away from him, although they had tried.

It was only a matter of time until he was free, and then he would resume his drive toward the throne. And this time, there would be no mistakes. All his enemies would fall before him.

Behind his bonds, Aizen smirked.

XxXxXxX

As the silent months passed, he spent time going over the last few minutes of his victories and his final defeat, over and over again. He spread out the memories dispassionately in his mind like sheets of paper on a desk. It was important to view them neutrally, from an objective perspective. He had always prided himself on his clear and dispassionate vision, his awareness of others' superiority to him in certain areas, his lack of a falsely inflated ego. Yamamoto was stronger than him. Urahara was more intelligent. Now, it seemed, the "substitute shinigami," Kurosaki Ichigo, had become a transcendent being ahead of him.

He had made mistakes, especially in his plans for Kurosaki. He had badly underestimated him.

Just as Tousen had fallen prey to the intoxication of his sudden power and had become distracted and careless, so had he. He faced his mistake head on. He had failed not due to lack of ability, but due to carelessness and arrogance. The rush of power from the Hougyoku had been intoxicating, exhilarating. He had thought he was so powerful that he no longer needed to plan.

That had obviously been wrong.

He would not make that mistake again. Here, in the quiet darkness, he had nothing to do but plan. This time, his plans would be flawless, and his execution of them would be precise and careful.

XxXxXxX

He had been so confident.

He had stood in the replica of Karakura Town in the world of the living, all his enemies cut down before him, facing the "substitute shinigami," Kurosaki Ichigo, who still featured in his plans. He had laughed as he told the boy triumphantly that he had lost interest in him. It was a lie, but it would serve his purposes well. He told him he would leave him alive, despairing and powerless. Perhaps he could feature in the punishment he envisioned for the human girl when he returned to Las Noches in triumph, Aizen had mused.

As he stood amidst the wreckage of the replica city the shinigami had been at such pains to build, he considered with satisfaction how the course of the war had not merely gone as he expected, but far better. He had cut down all the captains and even the Vizards single-handedly. He had planned for the worst, had devised a stratagem for every contingency, had built an army to fight at his side, to protect him, to serve him, but it turned out that they all were unnecessary. He alone, with the power of the Hougyoku within him, could wipe out the most powerful beings Soul Society had to offer.

It had been amusing to see them all rail at him. Especially Hitsugaya. It was so satisfying to goad the youth, to fertilize and cultivate his hatred until the small shinigami captain was stupid with rage and so predictable. It was only fitting. The youthful shinigami had had such an easy life, such a smooth road to captainhood. He was all the senior captains' favorite; he had never had to prove himself in the Shinigami Academy the way Aizen had had to. Everybody spoke of him with admiration as the child prodigy. He had been groomed for captainhood, rushed into bankai training early.

So unlike the treatment Aizen had received. He had been overlooked time and again at the Academy, told over and over again that he "wasn't ready" for bankai training, when it was clear the only reason for that was that the old boys' network, the nobles and favorites, competent or not, were plugging up all the available captain slots, and they simply didn't want more candidates.

That had all changed, of course, a hundred years ago, when there had suddenly been many captain and lieutenant vacancies after that one night. Aizen smirked. After that night, they had finally realized how much they needed strong captain candidates. It had been so amusing to pretend to be reluctant, to humbly murmur that he was not worthy for command, to hear Yamamoto, Ukitake, Kyoraku, all the old guard trying to jolly him into taking the captain's exam. The same old guard who had earlier marked "not ready" on his record.

How they had all fallen at his feet in the end. How satisfying was revenge, revenge at last on the corrupt Soul Society that had tried, and failed, to grind him down and spit him out. He had triumphed over them after all.

He was unstoppable. His power truly approached that of the gods'. He had no need to kill any of the members of the opposing army. They were simply irrelevant; so far beneath his notice as to be unworthy of his sword.

He ordered Gin to open a senkaimon, so he could walk at his leisure to Soul Society and complete the last phase of his plan. He left all the shinigami alive so that they could hear once more that he planned to destroy one hundred thousand human souls.

Of course, that had nothing to do with his real plan. Still, it served his purposes, for them all to fear him, for the ryoka boy to despair.

He walked into the dimensional passage and was struck by how familiar it felt, how mundane and normal, a reminder of the life he had had before. Gin walked by his side, every now and then shooting a sidelong glance at him from under lowered lids. He felt Gin's fear of him and was amused.

He could even, beyond all reason, destroy Koutotsu, the construct that all shinigami feared. How pleasant it was to play with his vast powers.

Gin waited at his side, afraid. He could sense the man's imminent betrayal and he laughed inwardly. If Gin struck against him now, he would be easy to destroy.

He walked through the true Karakura Town that had been transported to Soul Society, Gin at his side and behind him, as always. He could feel the trivial humans all around, put to sleep by Soul Society's spells.

Victory had been all but assured. He had been so certain of that. Where had he gone wrong?

XxXxXxX

Despite all his careful plans, despite all his power, he had underestimated the souls around him. He had become overly arrogant. He could admit it now.

He had underestimated Gin. He should have known that whatever Gin was planning would be far more devastating than a physical attack. He should have known that Gin would strike at him both physically and emotionally, that Gin would find and focus on each of his weaknesses.

Orihime had become a weakness, and Gin had used Aizen's own emotions against him in the same way Aizen had used Gin's emotions and love against him. A caustic smile tugged at Aizen's lips under the bindings. It was quite ironic. But not unexpected that his protégé would be so deadly at the end.

He remembered it all so clearly, details from all five senses vivid in his mind from that day. Gin had turned to him in triumph. He had put his hand on Kyouka Suigetsu, thereby nullifying Aizen's core power. Aizen had known what was coming next, but—in another shocking failure of his— had not realized that Gin had lied about his bankai.

Gin had touched his sword almost casually. "Well, then I'll be the one ta kill those kids."

Aizen glanced down at Gin's hand on his sword and stiffened. Here it came. The man walked past him so that his bell sleeves hid his motions, his favorite trick. Aizen waited for the blow.

Shinsou extended, pierced Aizen in the heart. Even expecting it, he gasped at the sudden shock of pain, and his hand went to his chest in reflex.

Gin turned to him, eyes slitted shut, his habitual grin on his face. "I lied about my bankai," he explained casually. "You see, I left a tiny shard of my blade in your body. On it is a deadly poison which will dissolve your body's cells from the inside. You'll die with a hole in your chest." His subordinate's grin widened in triumph at his final blow.

"Gin!" gasped Aizen. He was surprised… surprised that Gin would have lied to him, surprised and chagrined that he hadn't known… and in the end, he realized that the reason he was taken off guard was that after one hundred years, he somehow hadn't believed that Gin would finally do it, would finally betray his master. He realized that in some irrational part of his heart, he had wished that Gin was truly loyal, had somehow hoped that his love for him would have overcome his hatred. In the end, Aizen had not been able to eradicate that last weakness from his soul, that last spark of emotion and affection, that last bit of irrationality that tied him to the human world.

He fell to his knees, emotion swamping him even as his physical body faltered.

Gin looked at him, finally opening his eyes so Aizen could see the hatred in them. "And what's more, I outsmarted ya in the end too. I want ya ta know. That girl never used her powers to destroy yer child. I suggested it ta her, but she didn't do it. Instead, I let Loly an' Menoly know that I'd disabled the cameras in her room."

Aizen choked, his body falling backwards even as Gin's words continued to assault his ears.

Gin chuckled. "I knew I wouldn't have to tell them ta do anythin'. Loly hated that human girl so much because of what you did ta her; all I hadda do was give her an openin'. But ya know— ya brought it on yerself. Ya made sure so many people around ya hated ya. Didn't ya realize how unstable an environment that created?"

Aizen was lying on the ground now, his eyes staring blankly upward, most of his chest gone.

Gin looked down at him. "It was so easy ta make the girl believe you were the one who had killed yer own child. She could see ya were a heartless bastard. It was visible everywhere around her in Hueco Mundo. Yer court was a court of hatred and despair. Ya weren't aware of how different it was from Soul Society, 'cause ya didn't realize how much yer façade of kindness kept people around ya supportin' ya, keepin' things runnin'. Squad Five ran smoothly 'cause so many people loved ya." He shook his head. "But all ya could see was that it was a lie. Ya thought you'd run things differently in Hueco Mundo. That you'd let yer true self come out. That you'd rule through fear."

He grinned at the man lying at his feet. "I think ya can see now how wrong ya were. Ya destroyed everythin' around ya. That girl's love, yer subjects' admiration, even yer own child. All in pursuit of—what? Meaningless power." Gin's face became serious as he watched the death of the man who had once been his beloved captain. "Ya threw away everything worthwhile for nothin'. I served ya for a hundred years and in the end, I was worth nothin' ta ya too. Well, it's all over now."

He stooped and his fingers closed around the Hougyoku, now floating in midair where Aizen's heart had been. "With this… it's all over." He looked at the gleaming jewel in his hand. "Now… what am I gonna do with this?"

Aizen's mind and body were overwhelmed with pain. Pain and despair. It couldn't be over. Not this way. Not now. Not after everything he had worked for.

He opened his mouth and screamed.

No! He would not die. He would not end. There was still too much he had to do. As his physical body began to shut down, he gathered his resolve, his will to live. He would not be destroyed. He would live. He felt his consciousness slip away from the spiritual world around him, but it did not disappear. Rather, he gathered his ferocious power together, turning his physical body into pure energy.

From the physics lectures he himself had given at the Academy he remembered the equation they had learned from scientists in the human world: E equals mc squared. What remained of his corporeal body was transmuting into pure energy, the atoms breaking down, splitting, the overwhelming transformation taking place not due to any physical laws but solely according to his will… proof that the soul's desire was greater than anything else in the universe.

He was transforming into a vast column of energy, a fountainhead of pure power… evolving into the next stage of being, the stage he had been seeking for centuries. And with it came another rush of power, a new intoxication, an overwhelming power as he felt himself become a being of pure energy. The energy settled into the shape of a tall, glowing man in robes of white, long hair swirling about his face, his sword fused to his hand. But the shape meant nothing. Physical location no longer meant anything.

He spoke, and the words no longer issued from his mouth, but vibrated the very air around him by his will.

"Gin. The Hougyoku you stole is still mine." At the speed of light, his energy form appeared in an eyeblink in front of Gin, who was still standing, staring at him, barely moving… so slow. With one slash, he had cut down the body of the man who had dared to betray him, and recaptured the Hougyoku.

He looked at the man slumping before him, now dying, the man who had betrayed him, the one who had been by his side for a century, who had served him and carried out his every order. His mind flashed over how he had met Gin, how he had won him to his side, how he had involved him in his plans… how he had seduced him. How he had told Gin he was incapable of love. His eyes narrowed. Again the emotion threatened to swamp him, but he held it back by force of will.

What need had he for emotion, for love, for sorrow? He was a god now. He needed nothing and no one, not now and not ever. He looked down at the man at his feet, gasping, his blood pouring out of his physical being. "Thank you, Gin," he said, twisting the knife as always. "Fear is necessary for evolution. Thanks to your efforts, I have at last become a being that transcends both hollow and shinigami."

XxXxXxX

He had survived even Gin's deadly attack. But he had still failed in the end, failed not just because of the ryoka boy's unexpected power. Because Gin's other blow had had far-reaching consequences.

In the dimness of his cell, Aizen remembered. He had destroyed Gin, had destroyed his lover and companion… but not before the man had struck a truly devastating blow.

Now that he had time and quiet, he could see it all, the way he couldn't when the raw power of the Hougyoku and of transcendence was blasting through his soul. He had given up his intelligence, his thinking, the abilities that made him who he was. He had exchanged it all for primal, inhuman power… he had thought that was his most heartfelt desire. To become powerful enough so that nobody could hurt him any more. To change the world so that it was no longer possible for him to suffer, for him to be humiliated, to lie broken at the will of another, assaulted, violated and bleeding, merely because of weakness. To expunge all weakness from his soul and to control everything, simply everything around him. So that no matter what Soul Society did, no matter what brutes they allowed to exist and to attack children, that he would be safe.

To become other than human, to transcend human pain and human weakness.

But was it not his human soul that was his most precious possession?

In the quiet of his cell, as he laid out the memories again one by one, he faced his next painful mistake. His last and most devastating false assumption. Orihime… had not destroyed his child. Gin had arranged it… because he had driven Gin to hatred and distraction over a century of callous manipulation. And what was more, Orihime believed that he had done it.

In the moment of the ryoka's attack, of Urahara's kidou smashing into his body, he had been filled with an alien emotion. His control over the powerful Hougyoku, like that of a rider over a wild stallion, required unrelenting will and singleness of purpose. A pure and unblemished desire. But instead, his mind had been filled with the vision of Orihime's horrified face, with his final understanding of what she had been thinking of him. The awareness had flooded him, and his grip on the Hougyoku had loosened. He had grasped the import of his actions, and he had comprehended, at last, why his seed had planted a child in Orihime's body when it had not done so in any other partner for hundreds of years.

His body, his head could barely move in the restraints that held him now. But what he was feeling in this moment was something Aizen Sousuke had not felt in centuries: regret. He sagged in the bindings and his head bowed; his eyes closed behind the bandages. Gin had spoken the truth. Aizen had brought it on himself. He had driven everyone away, had severed every relationship he had ever had in his drive for power.

He had tamped the feelings down, had refused to admit the truth of Gin's words as he continued to fight, as he faced Kurosaki. But even Kurosaki could see it. The ryoka was surrounded by friends and allies. He was apparently a mere human, but somehow he had gathered so many people around him. Orihime… Orihime had loved the ryoka. She could have loved Aizen. She could have had his child. But now all that was gone.

In his dark cell, Aizen at last faced the bitter truth, and in his mind, for the first time, despaired not at his failure in battle, but at all he had had… and had lost.

XxXxXxX

Orihime opened her eyes in the early morning dimness of her apartment bedroom and lay for a minute getting her bearings. She had had a particularly vivid nightmare of her time in Las Noches once again.

It was more than a year since Ichigo and Urahara had defeated and imprisoned Aizen, since she had returned to the world of the living with no apparent scars from her kidnapping. She had been able to heal herself so that her body was the same as it had been before the traumatic events of her captivity.

She had always been good at keeping a cheerful face over feelings of deep pain, and this time had been no different. She had resolutely put aside everything that had happened to her and had gone back to school as though nothing had happened.

Ichigo, she could tell, also harbored emotional scars from that time period, but he refused to talk about it. He had lost his powers and claimed to be happy about it, that he could now return to the normal life he had always wished for, unburdened by even the sight of ghosts around Karakura Town.

But she could see in his quick glances when Uryuu or Chad mentioned their experiences, or in the pensive frowns she sometimes surprised on him during a moment of reflection, that he hadn't forgotten either. That he also had unresolved issues, unlanced wounds from that period of their lives.

Instead of turning to his friends, he had withdrawn in on himself. He had become surly and uncommunicative. He was polite to Orihime, neutral. They were friends, still, if nothing more.

What she hadn't counted on were her own dreams and nightmares. She woke screaming from them sometimes, only glad that she lived alone, so that no one would know. In the dreams she saw again Ichigo's face turn to the mask of a monster, saw Ulquiorra turn to ash, saw Aizen walk away from her, threatening to destroy her home.

But worse than the nightmares were the pleasant-seeming dreams. The dreams where Aizen came to her and told her once again that he had feelings for her, that he wanted her to be by his side, where he looked at her with his huge and expressive eyes and told her of his loneliness, and said that she was the only one who could cure it. Where he handed a small bundle to her and smiled, and when she pulled back the blanket, a tiny face was revealed, eyes tightly shut. Then the eyes would open, large, deep brown eyes that somehow seemed too knowing for such a tiny one. She would feel her heart pierced with joy at the thought of her child. Of their child.

Then she awoke to the harshness of reality and her daily life, and the memories would come flooding back, and she would remember it was all a lie.

And she was so lonely now… Ichigo was distant, brooding. She caught shreds of his bitterness over being abandoned by Soul Society, over being ignored by Rukia for so long. She caught him more than once moodily staring at the seat in their classroom Rukia used to occupy.

Her life felt so empty now, so devoid of meaning. She had been involved in a grand and glorious quest to save the world, had somehow found herself on what was deemed the wrong side, and had gotten away with being a traitor and a deceiver.

Perhaps the worst was that no one knew, that there was no one she could ask forgiveness of.

And these days the most important decision she was counted on to make was how much butter to spread on her sweet potatoes.

Her life had become trivial and unimportant. She had once been the pawn over which armies fought, the Helen of Troy that led half of Soul Society to what was planned to be its doom. And now she was nothing. She was nobody. And she deserved to be nobody. In the darkness of her bedroom at night, with the myriad city noises and leaky plumbing running, that was brought home over and over. When Ichigo ignored her yet again, despite her attempts to be cheerful, it was brought home.

She heard a faint noise in the darkness of her bedroom, and for a moment thought it was another nightmare. She opened her eyes to a faint blue light in the room, something she shouldn't have seen, as the blackout shades over the window normally sealed out all street lights.

The light increased in intensity, until she saw there was a human figure standing in her bedroom. It was a man, a man with shaggy black hair. The light continued to intensify, and she realized who it was, looking down at her with expressionless eyes once again.

Ulquiorra.

She gasped, and sat up in bed, certain it was another nightmare.

"You must dress yourself, woman, and come with me," said the man, his green eyes expressionless as always. She stared at him; he was unchanged, from the tear streaks on his face to the half-mask, to the white uniform he had always worn.

"Ul- Ulquiorra?" she squeaked. "What- what are you doing here? I- I thought you were…" Her voice trailed off.

"Dead?" he asked in his monotone voice. "Obviously, that is incorrect, as you can see." He gazed at her for a long moment, and when he spoke again, his emotionless voice sounded almost resigned. "I expect, as a human, you will wish explanations. I am permitted to say this: Aizen-sama left a spell in place in Las Noches to resurrect his most loyal Espada should we die there or elsewhere. I was reconstituted shortly after your friend destroyed me."

"Why… why are you here then?" she asked.

He looked at her. "Did you not think that Aizen-sama would have contingency plans? Did he not tell you that he would need your power?" He moved forward, and she saw he held her clothing in his hand. "Dress yourself, woman. There are important tasks for you to perform."