Kaede was grateful for how empty the barracks were when she returned. She was giddy, unable to stop smiling no matter how many times she bit her lips. She kept replaying the kisses in her mind, each one leaving her weak-limbed and fuzzy-brained.

Back in her room, she took her time removing the obi and its supportive sashes, carefully folding each piece to be replaced in the box. Her fingers lightly traced her lips, then her cheek and neck - anywhere he'd touched her. Her skin tingled, her breath shuddered in her chest.

She trailed her fingers down her neck. She'd never imagined that someone's lips would feel so amazing on her skin, or that kissing alone could be so…much. Sure, the way novels made it sound, kissing was an act of pure euphoria, but she'd had her doubts.

Well, not anymore. If anything, she wished those novels had gone a little further, giving her a window into other intimate acts. Maybe those would have been accurately described, too.

Sousuke had only kissed partway down her neck…what if the collar of the kimono hadn't been in his way? Kaede slipped a hand inside the fabric, closing her eyes. Would he have continued across her collarbone? How would his lips feel on her shoulder, or trailing down her chest?

Her fingertips traced the areas, but she imagined it was his fingers leaving shivering trails along her skin, his hand cupping her small, rounded breast beneath the fabric. She pictured his defined jaw and wondered what it would be like to run her lips along the sinews of his throat. In her mind, it was his hands peeling away the kimono layers, slowly so that the silk whispered down her skin. She imagined opening his own robe and the mere thought of what his chest would feel like under her hands made her take in a shuddering breath.

What if they hadn't been out in the open? What if she hadn't panicked at the first twinge of pressure building up in her core, pressure that had nothing to do with reiatsu buildup? She tried to imagine the scene a little differently: the two of them alone in a private place, his larger, solid form covering her, his hand traveling from her hip to her thigh, the open robe of her kimono allowing him to settle securely between her legs.

She sank down onto her bedroll, relishing the feel of the cool fabric against her fevered skin. Her own hand drifted between her thighs as she tried to imagine how it would go next.

An image flashed in her mind's eye: a dark alcove, pitch-black but for the lone, dim bulb in the ceiling, making the shadows cast by the writhing figures on the ground dance against the walls.

Kaede's eyes snapped open, her breath caught in her chest. She withdrew her hand, curling onto her side, her body's mounting ecstasy abruptly dulled. That…she'd forgotten about that, or at least had tucked it away so well that she believed she had. She tried to push the memory away again, to return to the much more pleasant and heady state she'd been in just seconds ago - but she couldn't. Now, instead of Sousuke caressing her, he was grabbing her, pushing aside any inconvenient fabric. There was no more kissing in the scene, just a hand over a mouth to stifle the grunts and whimpers of pain and humiliation.

Kaede pulled her blanket around her body. How many times had she come across scenes like that in the Nest? She'd only ever caught glimpses, fleeting seconds of the acts before running away, but those few seconds would play out in her mind for hours afterward. They invaded her thoughts on the few occasions that she explored her own body, leaving her tense with disgust and shame.

How did anyone want that? She knew that, in theory, sex was meant to be an act of love, or at least of pleasure - but nothing she'd seen in reality reflected that. Sex was a commodity, an act of dominance and desperation.

But when she thought of Sousuke, of his deep wit, daring smile, of the parts he hid from most but allowed her to see…how he drove her to distraction with a mere look, stole her thoughts with a touch…how perfectly his mouth fit with hers, how right it felt to have his body against hers…

Maybe, with the right person, it was different.

Was Sousuke her "right person?" Did he even want her that way? Remembering how intense his kisses were, how he'd pulled her body into his…it seemed like he did. But his cold detachment immediately afterward confused her, worried her.

With a small groan, Kaede rolled off her bedroll and into a kneeling position. Before she could succumb to sleep, rumination, or anything else, she had to at least put this kimono away properly. She didn't want to ruin this gift…especially if it became the only reminder of this near-perfect day.

It wasn't part of the plan.

Leaving the Academy grounds felt eerily like escaping. He couldn't get away from that place, from her, quickly enough. After a few steps, he used shunpo to add more distance and - he hoped - let out a bit of this distracting energy that had been building in him all evening.

He achieved the physical distance, but the internal storm kept brewing.

Aizen had never been so affected before. Emotions were tools: he analyzed them in himself and in others, categorized and filed them away for future use. He didn't get caught up in them. Even when indulging in more pleasurable pursuits, there was always a dominant part of his mind that continued to analyze and calculate.

Yet with Kaede, he'd felt something: a powerful pull, a wiping away of all rational thought that left only a need to return to her lips and lay claim to her body and soul. It was so strong that he needed to force himself off of her just to stop his mind from becoming completely overtaken. Even after he'd done so, not realizing in the moment that she'd pushed him away as well, he kept feeling that imperative, that draw that clouded his mind.

That was unacceptable.

Walking her back to the Academy had helped him cool down physically and mentally, and by the time he was ready to leave her, he'd come to the conclusion that his reaction had been a fluke. He was perfectly capable of evolving their relationship into a more physical one without the distraction of…whatever that had been, because "whatever that had been" didn't matter in the end. All that mattered was that she was sympathetic to his cause, enough that when he finally did bring out that power of hers, she'd use it for him.

He sought to prove this to himself by kissing her once more. It would be, at most, a pleasant physical sensation this time, and he'd have no issue keeping control over her actions or his. Plus, doing so would, in her mind, cement his interest and give her something more to look forward to when they were together again.

The moment she was in his arms again, that delusion shattered. Her enthusiastic response spurred him on to deepen and prolong the kiss. He caught himself planning how he'd whisk her away to his room, unwrap her from that kimono like a well-dressed gift and make her moan his name. He was certain he could; his skills in bed were well-studied and well-practiced, and learning what the other person preferred was just another form of analysis.

What alarmed him was just how powerfully he wanted to do this - not as part of the plan, not as something to bring himself pleasure (he managed that far more efficiently with his own hand), but because he simply wanted her.

Perhaps if it was only sexual attraction, he wouldn't be so unsettled. Sex was a physical act, and he had excellent control over his own body. But now, with the benefit of hindsight, he began to see other signs that he couldn't so easily discard.

When he first heard of Sorano Kaede, the "Child of the Catastrophe," coming to the Academy, he'd been curious - not because he gave much credence to rumors, and not because of the talk among his fellow students, but because her arrival had the teachers wary. Seasoned Shinigami, some of them high-ranking officers in their own right, and they were afraid of one young Soul who hadn't been seen in decades?

Interesting.

So he learned what little there was to know about her, and after watching her for a few months, he approached her. If she was as powerful as people feared, she'd be a worthy investment. He even had his theories as to the origins of that power, and if there was any truth to them…well, then she'd be an indispensable asset that he needed to secure sooner rather than later, before other parties made moves to acquire her. He believed at the time that he knew exactly how best to win her over: she had no friends, was shunned by her peers…she'd appreciate a kind word and a bit of attention that wasn't doused in fear and contempt.

He'd been wrong.

It took a few tries to find the right combination of approachability, sympathy, and - surprisingly - true honesty on his part to reel her in. The challenge of it was invigorating, and her intelligence and perceptiveness came as a pleasant shock. She was surprisingly well-read; few Shinigami, even those working in Soul Society's archives, bothered with material from the Human World.

Then there was the trauma - the perfect storm of self-loathing, guilt, and misplaced trust that was so satisfying to break apart. He relished turning her guilt into pride, her self-hatred into resentment for those who'd inflicted it on her in the first place. Dismantling her worldview and rebuilding it piece by piece was intensely gratifying, and she took to his molding beautifully.

It was all an investment, of course - probably the most valuable one he'd made yet. He'd gathered connections from the top tiers of Soul Society to the lowest, situated himself in the perfect position to not only rise in the ranks, but build a whole network of his own, all with the powers-that-be remaining none the wiser of his true ambitions. Important pieces, yes, and well-calculated moves, but ultimately…expendable.

But she had real power - the kind of power that could potentially undo the bonds of reality itself, if his suspicions were correct. With that in his arsenal, he might not have to continue this slow trudge toward an eventual revolution. Instead of relying on the small movements of pawns, he'd have a queen with which to devastate the entire board.

If he was going to utilize that power sealed inside of her, he needed her to be willing to use it for herself first. He also had to rid her of those seals - and more importantly, he needed her to want that freedom. She was nearly ready for that - and thanks to months of meticulous planning and a few key moves on his part, so was he.

First, he'd needed more information on those seals. Kido being worked into a Soul's body like that was something only theorized about in books; she was the first living case he'd ever heard of. Given how badly affected she was by those checkups, it was plain to see why Kido was rarely used in that way.

He started by tailing Urahara Kisuke the next time he escorted Kaede to a checkup, confirming the location with his own eyes. A little disguise here, a little hypnosis there, and he'd been in the observation room for her next two check-ups.

Seeing her in pain during a "full work-up" had been…strange. Not because of what he was witnessing - he already knew the process took a lot out of her - but because it stirred something within him. People in pain didn't phase him, but Kaede's suffering made his own jaw clench. Knowing that the judges who'd ordered the creation of those seals, as well as their display now, were right beside him, easily within reach of his sword…he'd had to force himself to remain focused and collect what data he could. That was the whole point of this endeavor. He wrote off his reaction as an extension of his existing distaste for Soul Society's system.

It irked him that the bits of real power that wanted to come through the seals were quickly suppressed and neutralized by Unohana, so he couldn't get a good feel for it. However, he did learn the trigger for the Failsafe and some of the finer points of how her seals worked, so it was a worthwhile endeavor.

He knew from the time he saw it in action that the Failsafe needed to go first. Simply bearing it had the continuous effect of amplifying her shame, almost as a form of self-flagellation; that was entirely unbefitting of what would eventually become his most powerful piece on the board.

The plan for the Failsafe's removal had been a simple one: exploit its greatest weakness, the fact that anyone with the correct Kido incantation could trigger it. Central 46 would be forced to choose between keeping hold of that leash and risking any number of other, less worthy individuals grabbing it away from them.

Leaking the trigger was easy. Aizen had exposed several key members of both the faculty and student body to Kyoka Suigetsu already; all he had to do was pretend to be Honda-sensei and teach the trigger to a few select students. Each was failing most of their classes and believed that by helping "Honda-sensei" get rid of a particular problem student, they'd avoid flunking out. Those students gathered similar-minded friends, including a few full-fledged Shinigami, and waited obediently for their sensei's go-ahead.

With that set up for the morning of the Captains' visit, Aizen then focused on the next easiest obstacle: Kaede's travel restrictions.

Getting those lightened had been amusing. Central 46 actually had been considering allowing her on class trips the following term; she needn't have made the request at all. But he needed her to get her hopes up, only to be denied yet again. That way, she'd be in the right state of mind to engage in a brawl with strangers, the frustration and heartbreak of yet another denial making her reckless.

So when she gave her well-coached request to the judges, Aizen made sure that Urahara heard the judges say "no." He didn't even have to initiate the Kanzen Saimin on the man; Urahara had already been exposed when Aizen first had Kaede touch the blade. He'd suspected at the time that someone was tailing her, possibly Urahara himself, but being right on both counts was a happy coincidence. He'd have found another way to bring the man under hypnosis if necessary, but was delighted to find that it wasn't. He just had to be careful now not to garner Urahara's suspicion; his instincts told him that the man was far more than he seemed, from his intellect to his own raw power. Best to tread carefully around him.

In actuality, the judges had heard nothing of Kaede's request and said nothing in response. Nor did they hear Urahara regretfully tell Kaede that they'd refused her request yet again. The next morning they'd found a formally written request for lighter travel restrictions signed by several Academy instructors (who, of course, hadn't realized what they were signing at the time). They had no reason to deny such a well-supported petition from so many respected individuals.

The final piece of the puzzle had been finding the right Captain to witness the fight. It had to be someone who wouldn't step in right away to stop it (at least, not before the Failsafe had been triggered), but who wouldn't simply walk away either. The newly-appointed Hirako Shinji had been a gamble, but as soon as Aizen heard he was looking for Kaede's tiny monkey of a friend, he knew he'd found the right person. He could tell that Hirako didn't fall for his "model student" act, but he could make use of that as well.

Everything had gone without a hitch. The Failsafe was removed, Kaede's travel restrictions were loosened, she was even bumped up to the more advanced class for her year - a fact that would help her graduate on time despite the earlier setbacks. The expulsion of the students responsible for the fight, and the removal of Honda-sensei in particular, had the added benefit of sending a message to the rest of the Academy: Targeting Sorano Kaede was unacceptable. Aizen was quite certain she'd encounter fewer problems with her fellow students moving forward.

But then…Kaede surprised him, not once, but several times in succession. She hadn't reacted as he expected; instead of being ecstatic over her lighter restrictions, she was suspicious. He'd quickly realized that she wouldn't trust too many "good" things coming at once and resolved to pace them out more in the future.

Then came her assessment of his Zanpakuto. Not only did she prove herself to be far more perceptive and astute than he'd given her credit for (he really had to stop underestimating that brain of hers), she once again didn't react as expected of one who'd realized they'd been deceived.

For a few tense moments, he'd thought he might need to eliminate her. Her keen senses could become a problem for him, especially if he managed to unbind her full power; there was a chance that she'd be immune to his Kanzen Saimin after that. Not that he'd needed to use it on her yet, but it was nice to have the option. Then there was her connection to Urahara Kisuke, and by extension, the Stealth Corps' Detention Unit. One misstep with either of them, and Aizen could wind up in prison or on the run. Inconvenient, but not insurmountable, and if he were being honest, he relished the challenge of seeing just how much he could pull Kaede to his side right under the Stealth Corps' bloodhound-ish noses.

Then he'd surprised himself, because he realized that he didn't want to get rid of her. That had never been much of a factor before. When someone outlived their usefulness, he abandoned them; in the rare instance they became a threat…he got rid of them. It was nothing to do with his personal feelings, just how they fit into the grand scheme.

But the thought of having to strike her from his life actually bothered him a bit. He'd hidden it, of course, but he couldn't deny how conflicted he'd felt in those few seconds.

He'd shaken off the oddness of that realization, reminding himself that she was, currently at least, a key figure for his ambitions. Of course he didn't want to get rid of her just yet, not with all the work he'd put in already. That didn't erase the fact that he'd felt something for her that was…unfamiliar, something that went beyond the thrill of a challenge or the fascination of finding something new.

This place should burn for what they've done to you.

Why had he said that? He hadn't planned to. It wasn't part of the script, and he'd caught himself by surprise with how thoroughly he believed his own words. Seeing her enjoy the festival and its mundane delights so fully, the fact that she considered it to be the best day she'd ever had…knowing that he had made it all happen…it gave him a strange sense of pride, a satisfaction that he already craved more of. It also made him think of how long she'd been denied such simple experiences, and that realization had ignited in him a resentment for all those who'd had a part in that denial. He understood empathy intellectually and knew how to manipulate it in others, but this was the first time he could recall ever experiencing it for himself.

The words had slipped out before he could stop them - something that never happened to him. The surprise of it made him falter and doubt himself, another thing he was unaccustomed to. In hindsight, he needn't have tried to rephrase at all, but in the moment, he'd thought she would be disturbed by his blunt, violent admission.

Instead, she'd kissed him.

When her lips touched his, he'd felt every millimeter of contact - not just at his mouth, but coursing through his whole body, his nerves a cascade of dominoes. The kiss had been clumsy, quick, chaste; she clearly had no prior experience, yet it gave him stronger sensations than he'd ever felt before.

But it was more than the physical: It was a culmination of every time he'd unveiled a bit of his own darkness to her, of every time she could have - should have - run away from him but didn't. He'd told her how he viewed other people as pawns and investments, and she'd accepted it because it was his truth. She'd discovered his deception regarding his power and how he used it, and she'd been excited. Every time he revealed a bit of his true self to her, she'd embraced it and seemed to seek more.

You don't have to pretend with me, Sousuke.

Acceptance wasn't something he'd ever craved before, at least not consciously. He'd known from early on that there was something different about him, something aside from his unusually strong reiatsu. There was some fundamental piece missing, that part that made most people seek companionship and belonging, that allowed them to share in each other's experiences viscerally and empathetically. He'd never really missed that piece; by his observation, it was a hindrance more than anything else, a handicap that held people back from their true potential. He cared for the opinions of others insofar as they affected his whims and plans; he maintained a certain reputation because it was convenient and allowed him to act as he wished without drawing the ever-watchful, ever-paranoid eye of Soul Society's government.

But for reasons he couldn't fathom, Kaede's opinions were starting to matter beyond the scope of how cooperative she'd be. That could be dangerous. If he was preoccupied with how she might perceive his actions now, he'd be just as handicapped as every other insipid, community-obsessed weakling. That was the sort of thinking that led to stagnation and complacency.

As for the physical…he'd always planned to take their relationship in that direction eventually. She was so clearly starved for affection of any kind, so desperate for acceptance, it was only natural that she'd become attached if he bedded her. He hadn't anticipated how long it would take to wear her down to the point where she'd accept the simplest of touches, and he certainly hadn't expected her to make the first move.

Nor did he expect to be the one left aching for more - and oh, he ached. He still felt her soft, full lips against his, her slender, supple figure pressed to him, fitting like a puzzle piece he hadn't realized he'd been missing.

Perfect, now he was starting to think like some obsessed romantic. This was just physical desire getting mixed up with intellectual interest. There was nothing special about what he was feeling, it was simply a stronger set of sensations than he was accustomed to. He just had to take care of the immediate urge, and then he could think clearly again.

Aizen didn't often seek company for such things, unless doing so served an ulterior motive. He did get some satisfaction in it that couldn't be achieved by his hand alone - the challenge of breaking another person down in a variety of ways was something of a pastime. He chose his partners carefully, always wary of those who might become overly attached or compromise his reputation; getting rid of such people was an inconvenience he preferred to avoid.

Thankfully, festivals offered a multitude of opportunities for one-night stands, which was perfect: he had a theory he wanted to test. He took off his glasses, brushed his hair back a bit - he knew what he was working with - and re-entered the Rukongai, scanning the crowds.

It didn't take long for him to find the perfect subject. She was a slim, dark-haired young woman, pretty enough to catch eyes but not so striking as to be the center of attention. She had just separated from her friends, so she was alone. Aizen followed her through the crowd, positioning himself just in time so that she'd bump directly into him. Contact was made, smiles and empty words exchanged, punctuated with just the right amount of lingering gazes and light touches. A little bit of sake helped to dismantle the usual inhibitions, though not so much that she wasn't aware of her own actions.

Within an hour, she was leading him to her home - a single room above a shop run by her found-family. The seduction had been easy, as was making her believe she was the one making the calls - when in reality, the night's activities had been ordained the moment he'd decided to sleep with her.

Kaede would not have fallen so easily, he found himself thinking as he cupped the woman's face. He kissed her softly, just as he'd done with Kaede earlier that evening. She responded as predicted, melting into him with a soft moan.

Nothing.

He felt the usual sensation of lips touching, but that was it. He tried again - same result. He tried recreating the sequence he'd shared with Kaede, but that had been spontaneous, a perfect storm inspired by her own responses.

Now the act was empty. That spark, that something he'd experienced with Kaede just wasn't there. The woman clutched at his haori, but while he let his hands roam over her body, he just didn't care.

He tried coaxing her to the floor, climbing atop her like he had with Kaede under the sakura tree. His body did react to the feminine figure beneath him, but it was all muted and dull compared to the vibrant sparks and undeniable need he'd felt before.

He tried something else then, closing his eyes and pretending it was a different woman laid out on the floor. That the kimono was a rich maroon that perfectly complemented the light bronze skin it encased. That it wasn't dark brown hair coming out of an overly complicated updo, but deep burgundy, freed from its simple bun. He indulged in his earlier desire to peel away those layers, but mentally, he cataloged each exposed feature in comparison with another's.

Her breasts were too big. They needed to be smaller, still round, but higher-set. The hips were almost the right shape, but her overall figure was too soft. She should have been sharper around the edges, toned from a lifetime of constantly being in survival mode.

It was all wrong.

Aizen went through the motions of preparing her - it was easier to fuck when the other person was physically ready for it - but he couldn't care less if she was actually enjoying it. She seemed to be, going by the delighted squeals that grated on his nerves. He, however, had to continually stroke himself to stay hard.

Then he closed his eyes again, and it was Kaede's long, elegant legs that opened to welcome him, Kaede's pale amber eyes that looked up at him with such desire, Kaede's soft, full lips that parted in a gasp as he pushed inside. So long as he didn't look directly at this other girl, he could pretend, and so long as he did that, his body ardently chased its release.

You don't have to pretend with me, Sousuke…

Aizen groaned as he thrust into that tight heat, his eyes shut as he imagined not the forgettable girl beneath him, but the fascinating young woman at the festival. Her smile, so bright and open tonight as she took in the mundane delights around her for the first time; her eyes sparkling not with puppy-like adoration, but with genuine excitement and vitality. He'd done that, he'd made those expressions appear on her face.

Yes, he thought as he neared his peak. Soul Society should burn for denying her those things, for the shackles they forced upon her. He imagined what she would be like once those bindings were gone, how gloriously her power would shine, how free and uninhibited she could be. She was already so much more than this damn place allowed her to be - than she allowed herself to be.

But she was learning, and he couldn't wait to see how she bloomed.

His movements grew erratic. He kept replaying that moment in his head - You don't have to pretend with me - that kiss that sent such strong sparks of unexpected electricity throughout his whole body, into his very soul -

He grunted as he came harder than he ever had with another person. Sweat beaded his brow, his breath shallow as the last bits of his release shot into the body beneath him. He kept his eyes closed, trying to prolong the illusion for even a second more - but once the initial ecstasy of orgasm subsided, he couldn't keep it going.

He rolled off of the girl whose name he'd already forgotten, laying back to catch his breath. She nestled against his side, laying her head on his chest with a contented giggle.

He didn't care. His body had gotten its release, but it was far from satisfying. If anything, he simply felt…empty.

"Mmm…" the young woman purred, tracing little circles on his chest with her finger. "Well? Aren't you going to say something?"

He suppressed an eyeroll. "Yes…you're far more gifted than I had anticipated."

He didn't check to see if she found his pronouncement flattering or insulting; he merely slid away from her embrace, gathering his clothes. As he pulled on his kimono, he paused, pretending like he just recalled something. "Oh - what do I owe you?"

"Excuse me?"

"For tonight," Aizen clarified, tying the thin obi belt around his hips. "I apologize if I was meant to pay in advance - I'm not accustomed to doing this…"

She sat straight up, pulling her blanket up to her chest, an affronted expression on her face. "Wait - did you think I was - I'm not-"

Aizen let his eyes widen, bringing his hand up to the back of his head in a sheepish gesture. "Oh - I'm so sorry, I assumed because you were alone, and you were clearly experienced-"

Angrily, she stood, one hand holding up the blanket while the other reached for something to throw at him. Aizen ducked the object easily, her cries of asshole and I'm not a prostitute following him as he made his escape. A slight smirk played on his lips. Well, she wouldn't be pursuing him, at least.

The smirk faded as he headed back to the 5th Division. That had been amusing, and his body was sated for the time being, but his mind was still troubled. He'd never been much for fantasizing before. In all of his previous experience, he'd never had difficulty maintaining physical arousal until either he reached his peak or the other person had been adequately satisfied to suit his needs. His body simply did what he asked of it.

So why now did it only respond when he thought of her?

There was something different about Sorano Kaede - something besides the sealed power, something that brought out feelings and desires he didn't realize he was even capable of.

He had to be careful. Thoughts like these could become as much a handicap as the feelings that inspired them. They could also be used against him, and he could not allow that.

It was a new challenge, then, something to overcome. If he could reach his goals while managing these emotions, well, that just proved his point: he was superior to all those around him. He could still achieve heights never imagined before by others, and he would do so in spite of these distractions.

In the meantime…he saw no reason why he couldn't indulge a bit.

So…

…okay, don't hate me for not mentioning in the last preview that the citrus wasn't actually between our main pair. *please don't kill me*

Ahem. Anyway. How was that for a look into the head of our resident Magnificent Bastard? It seems like he might even have - gasp - feelings?! But yeah, he was also behind some pretty significant recent events. All according to cake…er, keikaku…

Memes aside, what do you think of what Aizen's thinking? I definitely see him as a sociopath, but like most things, sociopathy is a spectrum and how it presents tends to be unique to the individual. I also see him as a "trickster" archetype, not unlike Marvel's version of Loki in some ways…but enough from me.

Next Time: Hollow. Kaede worries that Sousuke is pulling away from her after their kiss…and a class trip goes horribly wrong, leading to death, injury, and maybe even an awakening…

Stay Tuned!