#aeomg

He chuckles. “Once we embrace each other, our bodies will revert back to normal.”

Your distrust is blatant as you squint at him. “You expect me to believe that?”

“Do you have a better suggestion then?”

Obviously, you don’t.

With an annoyed huff, you step forward and close the distance between you.

Now standing directly in front of your own body, you realize the difference in your height. The top of your head barely reaches his shoulder. You are practically a gnome next to the man.

No wonder he never takes me seriously.

Hesitantly, you wrap his arms around your small shoulders. Then—

In a blink of an eye, you are back in your body. At the same time, the seals limiting both of your abilities dissolve in thin air.

Just as you begin to pull away, Aizen suddenly moves. His left arm slides around your waist, while his right hand presses your head against his chest.

“H-Hey—!”

“Although being inside you was delightful,” he says, unfazed by your attempts to escape, handling you as if you are but a temperamental cat, “I must admit that I prefer holding you like this.”

“Phrasing,” you mutter with a scowl.

Still, you eventually find yourself returning his embrace, albeit hesitantly. Touch-deprived as you are, you cannot deny the comfort that his warmth brings. After all, given the fatality of your Absorption ability, Aizen is the only one in the entire Three Realms who can hold you.

Pleased with your acquiescence, Aizen chuckles. He leisurely rests his chin atop your head and enjoys the intimacy that you two rarely share.

“You're unusually quiet,” he mutters against your hair with a smirk. “Are you enjoying this?” 

Grumbling, you respond with the most unhinged answer known to mankind:

Beside her stood Yadomaru Lisa, the target of the incident, wearing a hakama that resembled a pleated skirt from the Human World. And then there was you, an unfortunate passing-by introvert who had been dragged into the mess.

“What, jealous like this plain Jane over here?” The gorilla sneered, jerking his chin towards you. “C’mere. I’ll embrace all of you.”

Just earlier—

Walking directly behind Lisa, you had the misfortune of witnessing firsthand the blatant harassment of your senior. Shy you may have been, but your sense of justice could not allow such behavior to go unpunished.

You stood up for Lisa and confronted the man. However, as if smelling your fear, he cackled and insulted your appearance—calling your low twin tails and bare face miserable. It was then that Hiyori stepped in.

Lisa scoffed. “Ya seriously think you’re hot stuff? Give ‘yerself a reality check and take a good look in the mirror.”

“Whoa, those kids have guts!”

Nakano laughed before glancing at Kakyo. “Hey, that is the same guy who used to bother you back in second year, right?”

Kakyo nodded. The simple reminder of the man pestering her made her smile falter. “It honestly surprises me that he made it to sixth year, considering the number of complaints filed against him.”

Meanwhile, Aizen said nothing.

His attention had already shifted, drawn unflinchingly towards the quiet freshman lingering just behind her peers.

Small. Timid. On the verge of fainting like a startled squirrel.

And yet… steadfast on her stance.

“Ah, really? Then embrace this FIST!”

You gasped in horror when Hiyori launched herself into the air and punched the senior square in the face.

A deafening silence followed the sickening crack from his nose, before the corridor erupted in cheers.

“You crazy bitch!”

More students gathered around the four, encouraging the gorilla to retaliate and continue the spectacle.

“As satisfying as it is to see justice served,” Kakyo started with a small tremble in her voice, desperately fighting the urge to chuckle at the predicament of another, “violence is hardly the answer, ahem. Shall we step in—”

She was about to interfere when a teacher came rushing down from the opposite side of the hallway.

“Oh, shit. We’re running!”

Before you could react, Lisa grabbed your wrist then Hiyori's.

”Why would I run?” Hiyori protested, but not before blocking a hit from the man then returning it fourfold. “This bastard is the one who—hey!”

You glanced around in panic. “What do we do? The teacher saw—ah!”

Ignoring your protests, Lisa dragged the two of you away from the pandemonium that had ensued as frenzied students started fleeing from what you assumed to be a notoriously dangerous teacher.

The corridor dissolved into a blur of footsteps and noise.

And just as you had emerged from the crowd—

“Hana.”

You instinctively turned, your heart racing.

. . .

Aizen was momentarily surprised that he almost laughed.

No, he hadn't forgotten. Your blatant accusation of him reminded him of the amusement he felt a hundred years ago. You had always been earnest to a fault. So transparent, so naive.

So much so that you caused your own downfall.

“I see. You have heard the rumors as well.” He smiles meekly, appearing wounded for being wrongfully suspected. “I was burning the midnight oil in my quarters. Several squad members can attest to that.” 

Aizen awaited your response with anticipation. If his memory served him right, you would apologize and chastise yourself for doubting him. When, in truth, you were correct in your deduction that he framed Urahara.

However, your apology never came. Instead, silence descended once more—but, this time, it consumed everything. 

The evening breeze had vanished, the sound of life disappearing alongside it. The distant chatter from the barracks faded into a suffocating silence that Aizen could suddenly hear the dull pounding of his own heartbeat. 

His instincts sharpened instantly. Something was wrong.

He looked at you and found your face now obscured by a shadow.

“Why do you… lie?” 

Your voice sounded distorted. Like a Hollow. 

Oh.

Aizen finally understood. This was no dream.

It was a nightmare.

He opened his mouth to respond, intending to regain control, but no sound emerged. He instinctively gazed down and reached for his throat, when you suddenly appeared before him and wrapped your fingers around his neck.

“Why do you always lie? Is it amusing… making a fool out of me?”

The next instant, Aizen was slammed violently against the ground. 

“You framed Kisuke. Turned Lisa and Hiyori into Hollows.”

Your soft brown hair spilled across his visage as he stared up at you. Given your close proximity, Aizen could finally see you clearly.

“You feigned affection to infiltrate my family... And, once I fell for your trap, you intended to sacrifice me. Just like everyone else.”

At that moment, your expression was unsettingly... empty.

No grief, no fury.

No pain, no disappointment.

Nothing. You were like... a doll mimicking emotions it could not truly feel. 

With your fingers slowly but surely tightening around his airway, panix exploded through his body.

Dream or not, it had been a long time since Aizen last experienced primitive and unbridled fear. His lungs burned. Darkness slowly invaded his vision. 

Instinctively, he clawed at your wrists.

“Han—”

“I despise you.”

His blood turned cold. Not from the fear of death, but the simple realization that he could actually hear you saying those words. 

“Pet?” he repeats with an eyebrow raised, “I believe you meant an artificial creature specifically created to nullify your Absorption ability, yes?” The two of you then engage in a ridiculous peekaboo, with the captain persistently peeping side to side while you move to cover Aizen determinedly. “I can sense that it possesses spiritual energy… Was it made by Urahara Kisuke?"

As if offended, the raccoon growls.

“Oh!” Kurotsuchi lightens up at its reaction. “It seems to have a thought process of its own. Fascinating!”

Meanwhile, you use Kyōka Suigetsu to covertly reprimand Aizen. “Stop scoffing every time Kisuke is mentioned. People might catch on.”

“You say that as if there is a shortage of people who despise that man,” he retorts. As if proving his point, Kurotsuchi proceeds to ramble on how he will eventually surpass his former captain—and that, for some bizarre reason, he seems to believe that dissecting your pet is the key to achieving his goal. 

When he reaches for the raccoon again, you slap his hand away. 

“Please stop. I already told you, he is not for observation.”

Having had enough, you grab Aizen by his wrist and walk past Kurotsuchi. However, not one to be dismissed easily, he yanks the raccoon by its scuff—which, in reality, is him snatching Aizen by the back of his collar.

“Wha—?! Captain Kurotsuchi!”

You immediately wrestle against his hold but fail miserably. As expected of a captain, he's incredibly strong!

You then nervously glance at Aizen, who now looks like he is one second away from erasing the entire Twelfth Division from the map. In your desperation to stop him, you embrace his trunk to directly absorb his spiritual energy and avoid the worst case scenario. But Kurotsuchi, mistaking your action for resistance, contests by pulling the raccoon by its arms. 

“Get... your... hands... off him!” you grumble.

A group of researchers soon gathers at the entrance, watching their captain engage in an absurd standoff with a noblewoman. For those under Complete Hypnosis, the poor creature is now being stretched like rubber between you two—the scene undeniably comical, like fresh out of a sitcom. However, for you who is not hypnotized, the exchange is nothing but horrifying. After all, the man subjected to this ridiculous tug of war is no other than the War Criminal, Aizen Sousuke, himself. 

Intrigued by your aggression—something Kurotsuchi deems out of character for the infamous Rose Princess of the Hirasaka clan—he tightens his grip on your beloved pet.

“Your suspicious resistance only fuels my determination to study this creature!”

“If you have a death wish, go ahead!”

Growing annoyed at his unreasonable persistence, you absorb the spiritual particles of the floor beneath his right foot, causing him to lose balance and lean backwards. Taking advantage of the opportunity, you remove his hold on Aizen and rush past him—even harshly shoving the mad scientist to the side of the road in an act of pettiness.

The Twelfth Division gasps as Kurotsuchi Mayuri pathetically rolls on the ground and slams on the wall. 

"HIRASAKA HANA! You little—” His face twists in outrage as he scrambles to get up. The nerve of you to push him aside like garbage!

“—the rumored Yoshiwara Executioner.”

“I heard she orchestrated the Tsunayashiro massacre. They claimed it was a plague, but everyone knows it was an assassination. She was probably the one who—”

“Watch your mouth. Do you want to end up in the Maggots Nest for making reckless accusations?”

Despite hearing every whispered gossip with painful clarity, you continue walking as if none of it reaches you. 

Aizen observes you quietly from the corner of his eye and finds your impassive expression unchanging. No hurt, annoyance, or guilt crosses your face. Your composure is unperturbed—too perfect, in fact, that he immediately realizes that it is a front.

Once inside the hospital, healers instinctively move aside to clear your path. A sight which Aizen finds ironic.

The Fourth Division condemned you for tarnishing their reputation, yet the most diabolical criminal in Soul Society had once stood at the very summit of their division.

Under different circumstances, he might have found the hypocrisy amusing. But the thought fades the moment your footsteps slows down.

Your golden eyes settle upon a familiar office—your former office—before it shifts towards the busy ward filled with patients (probably from the rowdy Eleventh Division), then to the bustling nurse station drowning in charts and unfinished paperwork, to the small pantry where healers slip in and out for fleeting moments of rest.

Without realizing it, your gaze turns into one of… longing. 

“Does it bother you?” The question escapes Aizen before he can stop it.

For the first time since entering the barracks, your facade visibly wavers. 

You almost pretend not to understand his question out of habit, but Aizen rarely concerns himself with others. The mere fact that he asked at all is already significant. Hence, instead of deflecting, you answer honestly.

“A little. I did spend the past few centuries here.”

Your response settles uncomfortably within his chest. Perhaps, he sympathizes more than he cares to admit.

“If you desire it,” he says after a brief silence, “I can cast Kyōka Suigetsu and make you look… like…” His words trail off as he examines you with misplaced focus, thoroughly contemplating which animal would suit you best.

“Like what?” you ask with a chuckle.

Aizen considers the matter with far more gravity than necessary. Eventually, he answers.

“A white stoat.”

“. . .”