The Challenge – Chap. 19

A/N: One of my contest winners, El3v3n, chose as her prize that I continue this story.

So here is your chapter, El3v3n! I hope you enjoy it. :D And thank you for participating in my contest.

(Originally posted 6/3/12, edited 8/13/12.)

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He was holding her, pinning her against the seat, as she stared back at him, furious, unmoving, her gaze trapped by his as he moved closer. His eyes were intense; she was losing herself in their darkness, that beautiful deep dark rich brown… As her body was pinned by his careless strength, so were her eyes, unable to look away from the depth and power of his, as they came closer and closer...

Then his lips were on hers and her body exploded with sensation. Every cell of her body was tingling as though an electric current were flowing through her flesh from the tips of her fingers to the ends of her toes. She could feel her heart pounding against the man pressed against her, chest to chest, warm, warm and alive. She breathed in his unique scent, and it stirred up memories she had long suppressed, memories of the time she spent as this man's captive, the old mingled excitement, fear, shame, and secret thrill...

She should be pushing him away… She should be…

In a rush, all her longing from the past, empty months came pouring back into her body, all the loneliness, all the sorrow that she had been pushing away… it rose up in her throat to choke her. She felt her flesh molding to the man pinning her against the seat, felt an inexplicable solace at being held in the arms of her enemy; oddly, even though she knew he was powerless, she felt wholly in his power and yet utterly protected… she realized it felt as though she had been dehydrated and was finally having her thirst quenched. As though she had been deficient in some essential nutrient and now, now it was finally flooding her body after months of deprivation.

She opened her mouth and allowed him to deepen the kiss.

He hummed deep in his throat as he pressed against her. His lips moved against her, his tongue teased her, not dominating and possessive as she might have expected, but soft and sweet and gentle, their lips and tongues dancing together, caressing, meeting, giving and taking, and she was hungry, hungry for more…

Suddenly, she realized what she was doing. Again.

Angrily, she pushed him away, panting, and glared at him ferociously. He was fooling her again with his marvelous acting, lying to her with his body as well as his words, making her believe that he might have changed. But she was not so foolish as to fall for him a second time. No, she had learned her lesson.

He returned her gaze with a faint smirk twisting his mouth, his lips ever so slightly swollen from the kiss. She could not tear her eyes away from his full lips; all she wanted was to lean into them again.

"No!" she cried. "You said no unwanted advances."

Aizen straightened, the amused half-smile still on his face. "Indeed. Your actions appeared to indicate my advances were… not unwanted."

Her eyes narrowed. "You're playing games with me again."

Aizen sighed. "Is there no hope for reconciliation between us?" He held her eyes. "Is there nothing I can say or do to convince you that I have indeed changed?"

She shook her head, stubbornly looking away.

"Nothing whatsoever could change your mind?" Now there was a hint of sadness in his voice, and he trailed off into a long, deep sigh. "But can you not see that in the event I am telling you the truth, you are giving me no chance to prove myself? That's somewhat unjust, you must admit," he said softly.

Orihime stared at him, chagrined. He did have a point, a small voice deep within her murmured. Agony twisted inside her and she felt herself weakening. Again she cursed herself. She was weak, vacillating, foolish, overly trusting. How could she do this? What hold did he have over her? She had her powers back, and he had nothing. She could destroy him in a single blow. All she had to do was call on her fairies, attack him. At the very least she should push him away, get away from him, and run…

As the silence stretched between them, she made no move to escape, and her eyes could not turn away from his.

He was studying her face, his eyes pensive. Slowly, he took her hand in his. It was warm, and again she was unable to pull away. When his lips parted one more time, she found herself focused on every movement of that expressive mouth.

"Sensory deprivation, Orihime. Do you know what that means?"

She shook her head, a little bewildered by the change in subject.

"They have sensory deprivation tanks in the world of the living," he continued, his eyes on her. "There have been studies showing that more than 24 hours under such conditions can damage the human mind. As a matter of fact, placing prisoners in a sensory deprivation tank is forbidden by your Geneva Convention as well as by most governments in your world. It is considered a form of torture."

She stared at him, wondering where he was going with this. His voice remained utterly calm and placid. "When a person is placed in a sensory deprivation tank, after about a day, the breakdown of their mind begins as they start to experience hallucinations. Vivid, extreme, often disturbing sensory imagery across all five of the senses. These hallucinations are the first sign that a primal need of the human brain is not being met."

Her eyes widened, puzzled and distressed.

He continued, "Then comes the panic, abject fear rising from the most primitive centers of the brain. A warning sign that something is seriously wrong. The panic spreads until it swamps the brain. Until there is no recourse, no turning back, no way out. After some time of this type of uninterrupted emotional overload, the very structure of the mind begins to degenerate, until all the neural circuits are permanently scrambled."

"That's terrible, but…" she began, but he squeezed her hand briefly to indicate that he was not yet finished.

"When Soul Society placed me in prison," he continued, his eyes locked on hers, "they bound me not only with reiatsu limiters, but with sensory seals. They locked me away from all five of my physical senses as well as from my reiatsu sensing abilities." He held her eyes. "I could not even move within the bindings in my cell." He paused, searching her face.

"They kept me in a state of sensory deprivation, not for 24 hours, not for 24 days, but for seventeen months."

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped slightly open. "But—" she whispered.

"I survived," he overrode her faint murmur, "because I have spent decades disciplining my mind. I have long practiced a number of meditation techniques each day, and I used that discipline to keep structure within my mind." He nodded slightly. "Sensory deprivation becomes painful and damaging for most people very rapidly, within no more than a few days at most." He raised an eyebrow at her and a hint of arrogance washed across his face. "But in my case, for a long period of time I was able to keep the mental degeneration at bay, and to utilize the time for more deep thinking and useful contemplation." His smile faded. "But after some period of time, likely a few months, the nothingness, pure, absolute emptiness and darkness, began to affect me. You cannot imagine what it is like, to be in such a void, sensing nothing, absolutely nothing, for so long."

"…Nothing?" she faltered. "They kept you in prison without letting you sense anything?" Surely he must be lying, she told herself. "You could at least taste the food you ate," she accused.

"Orihime," Aizen said gently, "When they realized I was immortal, they decided they would not bother to trouble themselves with feeding me. Every part of me was bound, and I was not even visited in my cell by the guards for months on end."

Her mouth had dropped open as she stared at him. "But that's… that's… horrible," she cried.

Aizen merely raised one eyebrow at her. "Soul Society is not known for keeping its prisoners under humane conditions. As an organization, they have long believed in the preservation of their culture and 'balance' over any one individual's needs." There was a faint bitterness in his voice. "This sensory deprivation technique has been used before by Soul Society," he continued relentlessly, "on those they deem too dangerous to live. I have seen prisoners being released from such confinements." He raised his eyebrows. "After thirty days, none of them could speak. One man I encountered could only drool… and scream."

She stared at him. She was trying hard to keep up a barrier against her native compassion for him, but the horror of the prison sentence was shocking and upsetting. She could feel her resolve crumbling. Suddenly, pity overwhelmed her. "Oh, my god, I'm so sorry." She shook her head. "That's just so wrong."

Aizen's face was expressionless now. "But surely I deserve such treatment for my crimes?" he inquired.

A frown creased Orihime's forehead. "Nobody deserves such treatment," she declared. "It goes against basic human rights. Even in the world of the living we don't do that to criminals. Torture is wrong."

"As I have long believed," said Aizen with a level gaze at Orihime. "Among everything I have done, all the crimes I have committed, torture has never been something I condoned." Gone was the banter of his earlier remarks. His tone was completely serious now, almost colorless.

Orihime stared at him. She could not have been mistaken about his nature. She still did not trust him. But the thought of him going through such a terrible experience… even as evil as he might be… she felt the floodgates of her soul open, and with them the treacherous feelings of her body swirled into her. Part of her wanted to forgive him, wanted to find an excuse to fall into his arms again… to her distress, she felt heat rising in her body once more, and she wanted nothing more than to curl into his heat.

She realized she had been slowly inching toward where he sat. She took a deep breath and held still.

He continued to look at her, his face completely neutral. How could he do that, she wondered again, be so calm when they were discussing such a terrible, emotional subject? A frightening thought struck her.

"Did you…" she whispered, "I mean, was your mind…?"

"Did I go insane?" he inquired placidly, both eyebrows lifting slightly. There was absolutely no expression on his face. "Am I out of control now?"

She stared at him, suddenly frightened again.

Then his old smirk was back. "You mean, even more than I already was?" The humor was back in his voice. He shifted in his seat, and now his expression was open, laughing.

Orihime essayed a tentative smile in return, her body still tense.

He exhaled. "No. No, Orihime, I retained my sanity by means of… a new development. Believe it or not, I actually developed a new power while bound in that prison." He smiled again at her, a smirk full of his old utter confidence. "I have long had an unusual ability to retain memories of sensory impressions," he explained, "an ability necessary for me to wield Kyouka Suigetsu. In order to take control of another's sensory inputs, I need to be able to generate a sufficiently rich tapestry of sensory information to make the illusion convincing.

"I have long worked on improving that skill, as it seemed to be forever outside my grasp to create a fully-convincing illusion. There were always little details that eluded me, small clues that would make it obvious to my opponents that something was not quite right."

His smile broadened. "It was," he murmured, "an annoying weakness." His voice gained strength. "But by imprisoning me in conditions of sensory deprivation, Soul Society enabled me to evolve my powers further. Driven by extreme conditions of privation, my brain found that in order to survive, it had become essential to perfect that one ability that had evaded me for so long." He leaned back, stretched one arm out along the edge of the platform languidly. "After a while, I found that I could return to any memory I had acquired at any point during my life, and generate a complete set of sensory impressions, richly detailed in all aspects of all the five senses. In short, I now had the ability to create a perfect illusion." The arrogance had returned to his voice in full force as his gaze was no longer on her, but far beyond her. "And by mentally visiting these perfect illusions I satisfied my mind's need for sensory input." He paused.

Orihime stared at him. He looked handsome, charismatic, and dangerous once again, as he focused on the far distance, his eyes on a vision only he could see. What did he intend to do now with this new power? Was he still intent on overthrowing all of Soul Society, on becoming a god? She shivered, realizing she could not help but admire him for somehow being able to turn even imprisonment and torture to his own advantage. She wondered again at the complexity of her emotions for this man. Did she fear him, hate him, love him, admire him, pity him…? Or all of the above?

His eyes dropped to hers and he focused on her, smiling. He lowered his voice, and it vibrated along her bones, rich, deep, and thrilling. "But along the way… I discovered something even more important." His smile was focused exclusively on her, and she was helpless before it. "I revisited the memories of my youth, of times of importance in my life…" He picked up both her hands again and cradled them in his, but this time, she scarcely noticed, so intent was she on his words. "Most especially, I revisited the times I spent with you."

His gaze slowly traveled over her face, his expression open and reflective now. She was transfixed, her eyes wide. "I realized, Orihime, for the first time in my life, that I was experiencing regret. Regret," he whispered, bringing the back of one of her hands to his cheek, stroking it gently, "that I did not fully understand what I felt about you."

He sighed and glanced away for a moment, not releasing her hands. "I had no idea that it was only seventeen months that I was imprisoned, Orihime. In the darkness of that cell, it felt like I lived my entire life over again multiple times." He paused and returned his intense gaze to her. "And I have lived more than two centuries, Orihime."

She took in a ragged breath.

His gaze burned into her. "I am telling you this because in subjective time it has been nearly a millennium since we last met, Orihime. Surely… surely it is possible for a man to change over a thousand years, would you not agree?" His eyes bored into hers as he clasped her fingers, and she swallowed.

"I—" she began, then faltered. Her eyes searched his face, and deep within his eyes, she saw something she had never seen before. "I—" she tried again.

A daylight slash appeared in the air in front of them and the platform tipped them out onto a sidewalk in a busy downtown street in Karakura Town. They had appeared in front of a huge skyscraper, the name of one of the largest hotels in the city on the awning before them.

Startled, Orihime looked back at her companion. "I thought you said we were going to a house?" she squeaked before she could fully think about what she was saying.

"A safe house, my dear, is simply the language for a secure place to rest while, as you might say in the human world, 'on the lam.'" He smiled at her serenely. "I own this hotel, and have installed multiple safeguards on the premises. We will be safe here."

She gaped at the huge building. "But—"

But Aizen was no longer listening. He leaned forward to address Ulquiorra. "Let's go around the corner. There is a locked and armored garage where we can enter securely and get out of public view." He glanced back at Orihime. "And a private elevator to my personal suite." His lips curled. "I believe you will find it to your liking."