The Challenge – Chap. 24

(Originally posted 8/4/12.)

XxXxXxX

Aizen stood tall above the woman, declaring she was no longer of any use, telling himself that it was time to purge himself of all weaknesses…

But he found himself faltering.

He, who had never once hesitated to make a lightning-fast decision in battle or in secret, to destroy or grant life to other souls based solely on their utility to his own goals… found that some part of him did not wish to kill this frail human woman.

It was completely irrational. Surely he would overcome this illogical notion and come to his senses in a moment.

But something in the deepest part of his core had taken hold of him; some power within him that rose from the very depths of his soul had inundated him. Some part of him would not let her go.

She might be a weakness, but he was a god; surely he could afford one small weakness.

Or was she truly a weakness? Could she be… something else? Could she be…

It was a lovely late spring day when the small child finally chewed apart the rope that encircled his ankle and crept out of the dingy hut. His mother had passed out in a drunken stupor so she did not notice as he unlatched the ill-fitting door and snuck out into the fields. Yellow flowers were blooming all around him in the tall grass, bees were buzzing, and fragrances far more pleasant than he usually encountered filled his nostrils. The brown-haired boy looked around him in delight. He ran for the joy of running, ran away on thin, bruised legs, breathing deeply of the fresh air and taking delight in the sun and wind. After a while, his legs began hurting and he started to limp, but he did not stop.

At the edge of the field, in a sandy depression, he saw a flash of bright color. Curious, he limped over to the object. To his astonishment, he saw it was a brightly painted wooden ball. Cautiously, he looked around, but there was no one claiming this amazing toy. Hardly daring to believe his luck, he picked it up and tossed it in the air, caught it. Watching it spin and twirl in the air, catching it again, he felt joy bubble up in his heart.

He had never had a toy before.

He spent a good half hour playing with his new ball, running around the field, even laughing out loud.

"Who are you?" asked a voice and he spun around in shock.

At the edge of the field stood a small girl, perhaps his age, wearing threadbare rags like his own. But her hair was a brilliant flame, crowning her head in apricot-colored curls, falling halfway to his waist. He shrank back from her in shock.

"My name is Hime," she said, smiling. "What's yours?"

"S-Sousuke," he stammered, unable to tear his eyes away from her.

"Do you want to play?" she asked.

He stared at her for a moment without speaking. He rarely saw other children, for his mother kept him away from the other village kids. Indeed, she almost always kept him tied up in the hut, telling him it was to keep him out of trouble. He had never seen another child up close.

She had beautiful blue eyes above a thin, pale face. He had never seen such a vision. Hesitantly, he nodded.

They dug in the dirt together, and she giggled when his hand brushed hers. Then she had shown him a game they could play with the ball. They began laughing and shrieking as they tossed it back and forth.

She had just made a difficult overhand catch and he had grinned at her. There was a crashing in the brush and three larger children emerged. They stared at the two little ones playing, and the eyes of the biggest one narrowed.

"Hime!" he said sharply, and the little girl froze.

"Nii-san," she murmured.

"We've been looking all over for you," he scolded. "Come here at once!"

She looked back shyly at Sousuke, hesitant to leave. The older boy scowled. "Don't you know who that is?" he demanded, his eyes hard as marbles. "That's the whore's bastard. You don't want to be seen with him." He sneered. "He's probably got all sorts of diseases, the dirty scum."

The girl's eyes widened as she cast a quick, frightened glance back at Sousuke. Then she scrambled to the side of her brother. The four children closed ranks in solidarity against the small boy.

"Get out of here, brat!" hissed the oldest boy. "Don't you dare bother us again. Stay on your side of town!"

Sousuke took one hesitant step backward and stood unmoving. The group glared at him, then the oldest boy spun and indicated the others should follow him. The girl with the apricot hair did not meet Sousuke's eyes, looking down as she clung to the side of her older brother. The brown-haired boy watched them go in silence for a moment. Then his eyes went to the bright blue ball that the little girl was still holding. "That's my ball," he called. "I want it back."

The girl shrank back and clutched the ball. Sneering, the oldest boy spun to face Sousuke. "Oh yeah? Well, try and get it!" he taunted.

Then he picked up a stone and threw it hard at the boy. It struck him in the cheek and he put his hand up in surprise. It came away with blood on his fingers. As he stared at his bloodstained fingers, suddenly a barrage of rocks came at him, several striking him in the face, one right in the eye. He screamed in pain and began running away, back to the hut, liquid pouring down his face and his eye burning, burning… in anguish, he held his hand to his eye but the pain did not stop. He could barely see out of the other eye as tears poured out of it.

He made it back to the hut where he hid in the corner, sobbing.

Both eyes became infected, and for many days he lay, unable to see, in a filthy corner of the hut. His mother cursed him over and over again, calling him useless, bastard, dirty. He heard voices as he lay in a feverish daze.

"He's blind," said a male voice. "It's probably better to put him out of his misery."

His mother's voice came whining back, "How can I do that?"

"Take him to the midwife. For a small fee, she'll take care of it, and bury him for you."

"But I have no money!" she whined.

"Hmph. Then I suppose you can wait till he dies on his own, and then bury him yourself."

"Noooo," she shrieked. "Help me!"

There was the sound of a slap, followed by a scuffle, then the door slammed and there was only whimpering.

The boy lay in his corner, wondering what would happen to him, and almost not caring. What would it mean to never see again? Never to see those yellow flowers, the bright sunlight? Or bright blue eyes… he thought once again of the little girl with the beautiful hair… the girl who liked him until she understood who he truly was…

He closed his useless eyes and slept.

Days passed, and painful nights. But despite all expectations, he did not die. He healed, and his sight returned. His eyes, though, had become weak after that episode, overly sensitive to light, unable to see very far away.

XxXxXxX

As he gazed upon Orihime, his eyes tracing her curves, returning to her grey eyes, falling into their depths, he recalled how it had felt when she released the bindings, not once but twice, and how he had felt her soul encompass his, enfold all his darkness… and accept him. She understood him. She knew exactly what he was… and she still loved him.

Despite her kindness and her morality, she loved him. Loved him even though he had long ago forsaken morality, although he had embraced darkness willingly, even avidly.

She loved him.

And in that moment, it suddenly meant more than another victory, another soul falling under his control.

Many years later, some rich shinigami had started a charity school in the village. They had sent in a teacher, stated that they were going to teach everyone to read. The villagers had snorted; charity came and went, and food was preferable to books. But Sousuke, now a tall, thin eight-year-old, had gone. He had been desperate to learn, to understand more of the world around him so that he could somehow gain a foothold, could pull himself up out of the muck and scum of the bottom.

The other boys had whispered and pointed, but he had ignored them. The school was for everyone.

The teacher had smiled at him that first day, and he had returned the young man's gaze unsmiling. But he listened avidly as the man explained what they were to learn, looked at his books with reverence. At last, he might discover some of the secrets of the world around him.

But during the afternoon break, one of the village elders had visited the school. His eye had lighted on Sousuke, and his brows had lowered. He had gone to the teacher and spoken to him in a low voice. The boy saw the man's face close. Later that day he had told him not to come back. Once it was known who he was, there was no room for him at the school.

XxXxXxX

Every day of his long life, everyone he had encountered had despised him if they knew who he truly was. Even his most loyal companions, like Gin and Kaname. Those who had loved him, like Hinamori, had admired only the illusion. Those who knew the truth had detested him.

He had been alone. He had always been alone.

Always, ever since he could remember, he had wondered, deep in his soul, so deep he had buried it below his consciousness, if he could ever find a companion, an equal. He had thought it would never happen. He was too powerful to have an equal, and he could never trust another whose power might approach his.

But Ichigo Kurosaki had felt it in his sword during their last battle. In his heart, what Aizen had always wanted more than anything else… was to no longer be alone.

He had been maybe fourteen years old. Just come into his power, he had traveled on his own, through the far districts of Rukongai, making his way toward the center of all things: the Seireitei, and the Shinigami Academy. Tall and thin, with dark eyes and hair, he had at last come to the outskirts of the capital, where in the next few weeks the annual testing for shinigami student applicants would take place.

He had a few stolen coins, and had approached a vendor in a marketplace stall for food. The assistant to the vendor was a young girl. She had peered up at him from beneath long lashes, meeting and holding his eyes. She was about his age, but with a lush, curvy body and a thick fall of golden hair. When she made change for him, she touched his hand just a little too long.

They had met at the side of the river that night, and many nights afterwards. He had talked, for the first time, of his plans and his ambitions. She had looked at him in eager admiration, for she had never dared to dream of attending the Shinigami Academy.

It occurred to him that here, at last, was someone who did not know his past; someone to whom he could be anything he wanted. He could let her know who he really was inside, not the labels that had been attached to him.

One night, after she had begged him, he showed her some of his power. A heavy-set man had come out of a tavern, stumbling with drink. With a wave of his hand, he had cut off the man's air, made him collapse, and then rifled through his pockets. As he held up the man's wallet to show to his new friend, a grin stretching his lips, he was stunned to see the girl's face twisting with outrage and fear.

"That's dark magic!" she had cried. "How can you do that? No, I don't want to see you again!" She had spun and ran away, leaving him alone in the dimming street, now empty except for the unconscious man at his feet.

That night, he had finally grasped that once anyone knew who he really was, they would detest him. He had chosen darkness, and most others chose light. His soul was black and if ever others understood that, they would attempt to destroy him. In that moment he had sworn to always hide his true self, to never allow anyone to see what he was like again. It was imperative that no one truly understand him. No one was like him; he had no equals. He could never find a companion, a peer. He was alone. He would always be alone.

XxXxXxX

And as he stood over this frail woman with the power of a god and the vulnerability of glass, he wondered if at last, after two centuries, that which he thought would never happen… had indeed come to pass.

Orihime was powerful in her own right, but her power was completely different from and complementary to his. She was light to his darkness; compassion to his selfishness; boundless love to his soul which had never known love in all its long life.

It was a herculean task, to accept and love a man with a soul of such stygian darkness. And yet, as he gazed upon her, he knew she was strong. She stared back at him, terrified and yet refusing to bow. If he raised his hand to strike her down, he knew, she would fight back with all her might. Yet she would never strike the first blow, even if he stood over her and threatened her.

As he just had.

And finally, the true understanding of his time in sensory deprivation came to him, and he remembered the regret he had felt, not for his tactical errors in the final battle, not for the loneliness of his long life, not for the cruelties and murders he had committed… but for his abysmal behavior toward a single soul.

He had never considered the feelings or thoughts of another except as a means of manipulation before. But now… with a sudden blaze of emotion, he realized the devastating cruelty he had imposed upon Orihime, not just at this moment but throughout his encounters with her… and how her response had always been simply to love him. How she had forgiven every one of his transgressions. How she had known the bitterness it was to love a man such as himself.

How her body had united with his to create a child, an act of ultimate creation that had never happened to him before, not in two full centuries.

Like a lightning bolt to the heart, the regret he had felt only once before returned to him. She had grieved over their lost child… How could he think of destroying her? No, he had made a mistake… he had to let her know that he would never turn on her, that he would care for her for an eternity, that he would raise her to the throne of heaven beside him, that he would wait for her to trust him as he trusted her.

A strange and novel feeling of humility bloomed in his chest, eclipsing the colossal sensation of vast power he had so recently reacquired. And in that humility… could there be something of value after all? Could there be wisdom and balance; the balance of light and dark, as day followed night? The balance of the Universe, which the king was tasked to control.

Could one even hold the spirit throne without this balance? Alone, where had all his raw power led him? He had been arrogant, and that arrogance had led to failure.

Perhaps it was time to make the lies he had told truth. The entire time he had been speaking to her… he had assumed that he was lying, the way he always lied. But he had been unusually eloquent and persuasive, even for him.

He had outdone himself with her.

When he told her she had the powers of a god, that he needed her as his companion, that he loved her, he had been pleased with the surprising elegance and effectiveness of his lies.

But it had all been true.

This woman held the power of the divine… in her infinite compassion, her love, her kindness, the blinding light she had brought into his darkness. As he stood there, caught between one moment and the next, he could see the world expanding before him, the dark and threatening nature of existence suddenly inverted.

In his frozen soul he felt an outpouring of feeling, of utter joy, of an ecstasy he had never even dreamed of feeling, not in his entire blighted life.

XxXxXxX

Aizen stood tall before her, his eyes dark and deadly beautiful, his face carved in marble, his words echoing in the room. His eyes glittered as he held her at arms' length; he held her, boneless, in his powerful arms, his fingers curving around her forearms .

"I have no further use for you."

She gasped as he moved closer. How long did it take a shinigami to draw their sword and stab their opponent?

He gazed at her steadily, and then enfolded her in a warm embrace. So, she imagined, might Momo have felt when he had embraced her.

His voice was at her ear, soft, sweeter and darker than any honey. "You are no longer of any use to me; yet I wish you to stay at my side. Is that not sufficient proof that I have genuine feelings for you?"

She drew back and stared at him in astonishment. He held her tightly and stroked the hair away from her face. "I know that you do not trust me. I would like to begin today, the first of many days, an eternity of days to earn your trust. Come with me, stay by my side, and be my Goddess, Orihime."

Then, before she could react or think, he had taken her lips in his. His kiss… oh, how could she have thought his kiss was wonderful before, when his reiatsu had been sealed away; how could it compare with this, where … he was a sun, no, a star, no, a supernova, exploding, sparking, coruscating, winding his energy around hers, curling into her mouth with his tongue, a solar flare, burning with the primal rage of the early Universe, searing her, burning her… but she was no longer a woman but a being of flame, a soaring energy sprite in free space, in the unfettered, timeless space beyond the physical world. She could meet him without flinching. His tongue caressed her and she bent, she folded, she accepted, she submitted to him, allowing him to deepen the kiss and take her, possess her to her inmost core. She was his. He owned her body and soul and she opened to him, her mouth soft and yielding as he took her, his tongue exploring her mouth, his teeth nipping at her lips and then moving down her throat. She bared her neck to him and knew he could kill her with a single slash through her jugular, but instead he gently nibbled on her throat and moved on, the magnetic pulse of his mouth radiating across the field of her skin.

He was her God; despite all he had done, she accepted him. She stood in his radiance and allowed the petals of her heart to open to his dark brilliance.

She gasped and felt weak at the knees; she could no longer stand and she collapsed into his waiting arms.

XxXxXxX

She stood before him, clad in the unfamiliar, weighty garments. His eyes traveled over her body and his lips curled with satisfaction. She was wearing a heavy, cream-colored satin gown, elaborate with embroidery and tracings. A low-cut yet modest bodice covered her bosom; above it he had placed with his own hands a sapphire of approximately forty carats around her throat; the heavy gold links lay warm against her skin. A royal blue sash bound her narrow waist, and the rich pale cloth draped over her arms in wide, sweeping sleeves and was gathered at her waist to fall in long folds to the floor. Finally, he lifted the filigreed gold diadem into which he had set her hairpins and placed it on her head, stroking her hair back with his long fingers and then kissing her chastely on the forehead.

He stood back to admire the effect. She looked back at him, her eyes wide. "Do I really need all this?" she asked, gesturing at the robe and jewelry.

He smiled. He was wearing a similar outfit with an even more heavily embroidered robe and a wide royal blue sash with flowing ends. He wore no jewelry, but his skin appeared to glow from within with his power, and she could sense the Hougyoku pulsing within his chest. She had to admit he looked the part of a god with his chiseled features above the sweeping elegance of his clothing.

Very gently he said, "I want them all to see that you are my Empress, Orihime. It is true that clothing should not matter, but for a group as traditional and conservative as Soul Society, appearances are unfortunately vital. I wish them to give you the respect and obeisance you are due."

She looked down. "But I don't want worship…" she whispered.

His fingers stroked her chin and one finger tipped her face up to face his. "My dear, think of it this way. There is still plenty of opportunity for them to betray us. The war is far from over, and this is your uniform for battle." His eyes studied her face. "If they perceive you as merely a human girl whom I've kidnapped, they might try to attack, to split us. What this shows," he gestured at the robe, "is that you are my ally and partner, my Goddess. They will think twice before attempting to strike against our united front." His eyes lifted to Ulquiorra, standing silently beside them, arrayed in a similar outfit. "And as you remember from your previous stay in Las Noches, there are many even in my own army who need to be forcibly reminded of your status. So additionally, I wish to avoid having to punish my own people for any foolish actions."

Remembering Loly and Menoly, she nodded slowly.

"Now, my dear," he murmured, "be strong. There is so much that can still go wrong. But if you stand beside me, I am certain we will triumph. Are you ready?"

Eyes wide, she finally nodded.

He had spent much of the last hour or two making battle preparations. He had used human and Soul Society technology to issue many rapid-fire commands to various members of his army (she had been surprised at how many agents he still had), including Szayel, Grimmjow, humans, even shinigami who had remained secretly loyal to him, deploying all of them according to some elaborate, pre-arranged strategy. A quick call to a local tailor and the new outfits had been delivered only twenty minutes ago.

Orihime still felt shell-shocked. The odd sincerity of his words had compelled her to finally think he might be telling the truth, but the sudden change in her status from prisoner to Queen was alarming. And his serene but intense series of commands to his far-flung army had wiped out the intimacy of the previous couple of days, as she suddenly realized she had once again been thinking of her relationship with him as one individual to another.

But he was a lord and ruler, perhaps about to become a king and god… or to go down in battle.

She was only a simple girl from the wrong side of Karakura Town, and all of this was overwhelming.

He saw her distress in her face, and kissed her again. "Orihime, soon we will win this war, and then the two of us will have more time together." He smiled at her. "We shall sit on the Spirit Throne before too long, and nothing shall keep us from whatever we wish for." He stroked her brow lightly. "Will you bear with me, Orihime, for at least a little while longer?"

She met his eyes and nodded again. His arm tightened around her. "Excellent." He raised his eyes to Ulquiorra. "It's time for us to go."