Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Minutes to Midnight ❯ Bound by Nothing ( Chapter 3 )

Title: Bound by Nothing

Characters: Aizen, Ichigo, Ulquiorra, Gin

Rating: T

Warning: Language

Words: 3121

Description: The true history of Soul Society in all its horrifying glory.

 

 

He was in the library when Ulquiorra found him, a place that he often disappeared to when looking for some time to himself. He was still reeling from the sudden change in his life, the switch between sides, abandoning Soul Society. Ichigo had yet to really think further than that.

 

Still, Ichigo found solace in the library when he wasn't spending time with Gin. Strangely enough, the lithe man was a rather agreeable companion, easy to talk to and knowledgeable on all matter of things. More often than not, Nel joined the two of them, and it was easy for Ichigo to forget, in those instances, just why he had come to Las Noches in the first place.

 

“Kurosaki-san.”

 

Placing the book he had been debating over back on the shelf, Ichigo turned to find the emerald-eyed Arrancar just behind him. Appearing out of fucking nowhere like most of the residents of Las Noches seemed capable of doing. He arched one brow, knowing that Ulquiorra wouldn't have deigned to speak with him if it weren't for something important.

 

“Yeah?”

 

The Espada didn't even blink, which was rather creepy. “Aizen-sama requests your presence.”

 

To be honest, a part of Ichigo had been waiting for this. He still needed answers, and he was certain there was something Aizen wanted from him. After all, he wasn't that weak; he would be of use in the war. He wanted to believe that Aizen was different from the Shinigami, but he also wasn't willing to trust easily anymore. Soul Society had torn that ability from him.

 

Turning away from the bookshelf, Ichigo simply nodded. Ulquiorra whirled sharply on his heels, a silent command to follow. Ichigo was grateful since he was absolutely certain he wouldn't have been able to find Aizen in the maze of Las Noches. The compound was huge with many wings that were of no use to him. Like the research center, for instance.

 

He kept his gratitude to himself, however, and any further comments. Ulquiorra was not one for conversation, so Ichigo followed in silence, half-wondering what Aizen would say, what Aizen would demand of him. He was already planning what lines he would draw, what questions of his own he would ask.

 

The Espada didn't take him to one of Aizen's many meeting halls or the throne room or even the room they had met in when Ichigo arrived. In fact, the area they entered was one that Ichigo rarely ventured. He wouldn't have ever been able to find it on his own; that was certain.

 

The door opened, Ulquiorra pushing it inwards and gesturing him inside. Ichigo watched the Arrancar warily but went in anyway. The door closed behind him, and he heard the faint steps of Ulquiorra walking away to do whatever he did when he wasn't dispassionately staring at everyone with evident disdain. Or serving his dear Aizen-sama. Whichever came first.

 

Yeah, Ichigo was still a bit bitter with Ulquiorra. If not for Inoue, he would have a few scars to show reasons why.

 

He had been shown to what appeared to a balcony, overlooking the massive pale desert of Hueco Mundo, the expansive black sky stretching out above them. The moon was a pallid crescent in the distance, and in front of him, there was a throne, currently empty. Aizen stood just beyond it at the railing, turning only when he heard the sound of the door click shut.

 

“Ichigo-kun,” Aizen greeted in that same tone that often reminded Ichigo of Urahara-san. Half-placating and half-devious.

 

Ichigo remained where he stood. “You wanted to talk to me?”

 

The master of Hueco Mundo simply beckoned with one hand, a quiet request for Ichigo to join him. No harm or demand seemed imminent. Ichigo crossed the balcony, standing at the railing beside the former captain.

 

“It has been one week since you arrived here, yes?” Aizen asked him, as if he were suddenly unable to recall how long it had been.

 

Ichigo suspected that he was being led into something. “That sounds about right.”

 

“And what do you plan to do next?”

 

The teenager frowned. “Do?” he repeated.

 

Ichigo truly hadn't thought that far. He hadn't known if he would have the choice.

 

It was a valid question.

 

“Yes. This is a war we are in, after all.”

 

Ichigo shifted, eyes sliding to the side in thought. That it was a war had never left him. In fact, it had always stayed at the forefront of his thoughts. People he had once considered allies or friends would now be his enemies. Shinigami he had stood beside would now be his opponents. He hadn't liked the idea of that, but they had betrayed him first.

 

He had the feeling he would take some satisfaction out of beating up Hitsugaya. The teenager knew that if he saw the old man he would probably have no hesitation in attacking him. But there were others... he would waver. Even if only for an instant.

 

He wondered if he would be forced to kill, something he'd yet to do. It was easy for Ichigo to dismiss the destruction of a Hollow; they were being purified and sent to Soul Society, not truly killed. But a living person, another Shinigami, he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

 

However, he also wanted to fight. He wanted the chance to show Seireitei the mistake they had made in turning against him, in thinking they could use him. A part of him wanted to set fire to everything, which might have been the influence of Shirosaki's anger, a reflection of his own. There were many he was eager to take down, to make them feel his pain.

 

Ichigo firmed his lips. “Do you have someone you want me to fight or something?” he questioned, half-dreading the answer.

 

The former captain angled towards him. “No. You are not required to fight, if you do not wish to do so,” he responded, stunning Ichigo entirely. “It is entirely your choice.”

 

His choice. Something he hadn't expected to be given.

 

“I want to,” Ichigo blurted out, a bit more fiercely than he intended but effectively getting his point across. “I want Soul Society to have to face me. I want them to know.” He didn't explain what exactly, as one hand fisted at his side, but by the expression on Aizen's face, the older man understood.

 

“You're not a child, and I will not to treat you like one,” Aizen responded after a moment. “But you are still young. Think carefully.”

 

Ichigo fell silent, again conceding to the man's point. Somehow, Aizen had managed to see the inner debate without even trying.

 

Ichigo sighed, raking a hand through his hair in subtle defeat. “I want to fight, but...” He shook his head, grinding his teeth from sheer frustration. “I honestly don't know what to do.”

 

“Understandable. You still don't truly understand the circumstances behind the conflict,” Aizen inserted. “How can you choose to fight if you do not know what you are fighting for? Revenge is probably not the most suitable of reasons.”

 

Ichigo nodded, remembering that he had been waiting for some sort of explanation. He thought it would come in time; Aizen had no real reason to trust him either. He hadn't expected the man to offer it so freely. He supposed he ought to stop comparing the two, Soul Society and Aizen. They had already shown themselves to be vastly different.

 

Beside him, Aizen shifted his gaze out towards the cold desert of Hueco Mundo. “There has not been a true king of Soul Society for thousands of years,” he began. “Not even within the soutaichou's lifetime.”

 

He frowned in confusion. “What do you mean by `true' king?”

 

“The explanation is long and rather in depth, but suffice it to say, it is a position that must be earned, not given or taken.”

 

Ichigo peered at Aizen, blinking. “Isn't that what you're doing? Taking?”

 

“That is what Soul Society thinks I am doing,” the man responded with a scoff that clearly showed his consideration for his opponent's intelligence.

 

“I don't get it.”

 

Aizen laid one hand on the railing. “Being king is not solely the strength of one's reiatsu, though that does factor in. It also requires the world's acceptance, for lack of a better term.”

 

Ichigo's head was starting to hurt. “The world?” he repeated, half-wondering if Aizen really was off his rocker.

 

The former captain lifted a brow. “You have a sentient sword. The world being much the same is that unbelievable to you?”

 

It made a vague sort of sense but too little for him to wrap his mind around. “Rukia never mentioned it,” he countered, wondering why such a valuable piece of information had somehow been missed in her explanations.

 

“She likely doesn't know. It is not something taught at the Academy,” Aizen explained softly. “Most of the nobles and Shinigami do not even realize. The knowledge of this is kept under lock and key, limited to very few.”

 

“Why?”

 

Aizen frowned, his eyes taking on a hint of displeasure. “To preserve their own power,” he answered, his tone slightly flat as though proving how little he thought of Soul Society's methods. “Were this truth to emerge, then the soutaichou, the four noble houses, and Chamber 46 would all lose their own power.”

 

Ichigo absorbed this, a part of him uneasy with how much sense Aizen's words were actually making. “And how do you know?”

 

“I read. I looked. And I refused to blindly believe all that I had been taught.”

 

A sudden realization struck Ichigo as he considered the information. “Then... anyone could be king?”

 

Aizen inclined his head. “Everyone has the potential, and indeed, potentially anyone could be deemed worthy. You can see why such knowledge is dangerous.”

 

A scary vision of someone like Zaraki Kenpachi as the king of Soul Society suddenly invaded Ichigo's mind. There would be no escape from the man then. Ichigo would be forced to fight him for the rest of his life until someone stronger came along. The world would probably fall into complete chaos, though it would be beautiful. After all, even with Kenpachi as king, he would still let himself be ordered around by his flirtatious fifth-seat.

 

A cold shudder ran through Ichigo at the thought. “Kami help us if Kenpachi were to find out,” he muttered under his breath, unconsciously glad that this was not common knowledge.

 

He was gifted with the uncommon sound of Aizen chuckling in amusement beside him. “Let us hope it does not come to that.”

 

In total agreement, Ichigo barged right into his next question, the one that had really haunted him. “Okay, so you want to be king.”

 

“To put it succinctly.”

 

Ichigo fidgeted and then faced Aizen head on. “How are you going to do it?”

 

The elder male's lips twitched in an effort to restrain his amusement. “I'm not going to invade Seireitei and slash my way through, if that's what you think.”

 

“No,” Ichigo countered. “But I've been told you plan on destroying Karakura to make some key-thing,” he responded, remembering vaguely what the old man had told Hitsugaya and Matsumoto when they were sharing Orihime's apartment.

 

Aizen shook his head. “Either a misdirection or a misunderstanding on their part,” he replied with an ironic lilt to his voice. “A key does exist, but I might not require it. And if I do, I am currently working to obtain the existing one. What Soul Society did not tell you is the length of time needed to make such a key.”

 

“Time?”

 

Aizen completely angled his body away from the railing to face Ichigo. “True, I would need a thousand souls to create the key, but it would also take greater than a hundred years to cultivate it. Not even I am perfectly content with taking that many lives, utterly destroying that many souls for such a trivial thing.”

 

The teenager frowned, only to have this eyes suddenly widen in realization. “They already have a key,” he stated flatly, dread coiling in his belly.

 

“Yes.”

 

“They've done this before,” Ichigo added, the stones falling into place with an astoundingly final thud that made something inside of him roll with nausea.

 

“And that is not the original key.”

 

Ichigo ground his jaw, a righteous anger building. “How many of these fucking things have they made?” he demanded, his ire not directed towards Aizen but towards whomever thought it necessary to have these keys.

 

“At least three that I know of. But only the one is currently in existence,” Aizen said quietly, voice very soft.

 

Disappointment and disgust filled Ichigo, enough that he had half a mind to stroll into Seireitei and scream for answers. To grab Yamamoto and shove him against the nearest wall, demand to know what the old fart had been thinking, how he could have allowed something like this to happen.

 

Ichigo was even surer of his decision in that very moment. “You want to be king,” he said after a moment. “I get that. But there's gotta be something else.”

 

Aizen made a noncommittal sound in his throat before turning back towards his view, gesturing out at the desert. “What do you see out there?”

 

“Sand. And a tree.” The boy paused and clarified. “A dead tree.”

 

In short, what he saw was death and emptiness.

 

Aizen inclined his head. “Do you know what this place used to be?”

 

“Used to be?”

 

“Yes.” A flurry of emotions briefly flickered across the lord's face too quick to discern. “This was another heaven. Another Soul Society, to be more precise.”

 

Ichigo's jaw abruptly dropped, confusion beginning to war with the anger and revulsion that had been building. Everything he had ever thought about his new life as a Shinigami was being put into question. Everything that he had already fought for, what he risked his life against the Bounto to save.

 

“Once upon a time, there were no such things as Hollows,” Aizen continued very softly. “And once upon a time, the Shinigami were nothing more than ferriers of spirits.”

 

Ichigo fought to find some kind of rational words. “What the hell happened?”

 

“A war,” Aizen answered simply. “The details are lost, but the consequences are still visible in every Hollow that you see. Whatever taint was laid here has spread to the living world, allowing soul chains to erode.”

 

The boy shivered, remembering his own encounter with that very experience. It was a pain he never wanted to relive again and was still sore with Urahara for “forgetting” to mention.

 

“They somehow managed to prevent the spread to Soul Society but were unable to protect the living world,” Aizen finished, hands tightening ever-so-subtly on the railing.

 

Ichigo mused, still failing to make the connection. “So what does it all mean?” he asked, eyes locked on the desolate and barren wasteland that had become the home to Hollows.

 

“I want to prevent this from happening again, to both Soul Society and the living world. From the Bounto to the Vizard to the contention with the Quincy, we are already on the brink of another war. One that would leave both realms in ruins. Perhaps others as well.”

 

A part of Ichigo wasn't surprised. Based on treatment alone, there were many who wanted to strike back at Seireitei. He had recently joined that fold. Foolish decisions had been made. But regardless of Soul Society's misdeeds, the fact remained that its existence was necessary thanks to the prevalence of wayward souls and Hollows. It wasn't Soul Society that Ichigo wanted to topple, but the corrupt officials behind it.

 

Beside him, Aizen continued, voice spilling more and more facts. “The Hollows are growing in number larger than the Shinigami can defend,” he explained and then faced his newest and youngest comrade. “There are six billion people in the living world, Ichigo. And only ten thousand Shinigami. They are outnumbered and overworked. At least, the ones who actually do work.”

 

Ichigo digested this, exhaling quietly. “What do you expect from me then?”

 

“Nothing,” Aizen replied much to Ichigo's surprise. “Nothing at all. It is enough to know that you are not fighting for my enemies.”

 

He blinked. “I could just hang around here and do nothing?”

 

“If you so desire. Though your presence alone is rather entertaining.” A slight smirk curved Aizen's lips for a moment as though hiding his humor. “I believe Gin finds you charming.”

 

Ichigo gave him a skeptical look. “Charming?” he repeated dubiously. “I can't say I've ever heard that word in connection with me before.”

 

Amusement glinted in brown eyes before Aizen shifted his attention, glancing over his shoulder. “I do believe we have a visitor, Ichigo-kun.”

 

Blinking in surprise, Ichigo turned to find Gin in the doorway. He wondered how long the man had been standing there, popping out of the shadows like he seemed so fond of doing.

 

Seeming to realize he had been caught, Gin waved at the both of them. “Hiya!”

 

“Gin,” Ichigo greeted, half-wondering why the older man had suddenly appeared. The other half was still absorbing all that he had learned.

 

It made him feel as if he were suddenly teetering on the edge of a very high precipice, the deepest abyss gleaming darkly beneath him. There was a path behind him and above him, an invisible bridge before him. But he wasn't sure if he could find it, and there was an army approaching from all sides. He would have to choose somewhere to take his stand or be pushed into the darkness.

 

Aizen stirred next to him, diverting Ichigo's attention. “If you have any more questions, feel free to ask me. Or Gin, if you prefer. He knows as much as I do.”

 

Ichigo nodded, feeling like he had a million things to ask but no real questions.

 

The lord and master of Hueco Mundo smiled warmly. “Good. Then, I have other business I must attend to,” he said, stepping away from Ichigo. “Excuse me.”

 

Ichigo didn't respond, his eyes following Aizen's exit as Gin crossed the length of the balcony and approached him.

 

“Charming?” Ichigo repeated as his new friend drew nearer.

 

Gin grinned, a chuckle escaping him. “Aizen-taichou told you,” he chirped, seemingly unbothered by his personal comments being relayed to the object of the compliment.

 

Ichigo scowled. “Who the hell is charming?” he teased distractedly, still musing on the information.

 

Thoughts were flitting around his head as if they were powered by shunpo, knocking one against another and threatening to make his temples ache. His forehead had even wrinkled substantially.

 

Gin avoided the question, his smile widening. “Ya know, Ichigo-kun, ya'll break yer brain if ya keep thinkin' that hard.”

 

“It's not that easy to accept,” Ichigo admitted quietly. “It's a lot to absorb.”

 

“So maybe ya shouldn't think,” Gin replied, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. “Maybe ya should just... relax an' not absorb.”

 

Ichigo was immediately wary. “Relax?” he repeated suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

 

Gin smirked at the look on his face. “My, so wary, Ichigo-kun. I was just gonna suggest ya borrowin' my new Shounen Jump.”

 

“What? You have it?”

 

The former captain nodded. “Yep!”

 

“Learn something new every day,” Ichigo responded and rolled his shoulder. “Alright. Fine. Let's go.”

 

“Hai!”

 

*****