I don't own Bleach or its chars but my own
And this story's not something to clone
That disclaimer was quick
Now on to the fic
And please don't forget to review!

Now that that abomination unto literature is out of my head, please enjoy the chapter and disregard the fact that it took ages to update.

I raced through the crowd, shoving unwary citizens out of the way. Surprised and puzzled cries followed in my wake; I wasn't in the mood to be polite.

My target had stopped and was speaking to a merchant. A pleasant smile had taken residence on his face. Obviously he was in a gigai. Even so, why couldn't I sense him...?

As I neared, I swear he saw me coming edgewise. Anxiety passed over his features though he continued to converse with the merchant.

There was a point when I raced closer that he knew I knew what he was, knew I was coming straight for him. He had no time to react. When I caught up with him I slammed him through the booth, against the wall. Scattered screams assaulted my ears, but I paid them no mind; I was oblivious to all but the man in front of me, the man that was a central figure in my pain, both past and present.

I held his collar in a choking grip. He struggled briefly, but in a gigai, he stood no chance against me. Finally he calmed.

He straightened his glasses with two fingers. “What is your business, shinigami?” He shot me a condescending look. “Since when have you been at liberty to assault innocent souls?”

“Szayel,” I spat. “I thought you were dead.”

He gazed back impassively. “What, didn't they tell you?” He chuckled. “Count on the shinigami to cover up their own mistakes. I escaped.”

I growled, deep in my throat. “All the better for me to get some answers before crushing you.”

“Answers?” He reached up and adjusted his glasses. “You seem to have a personal grudge against me, shinigami. You look familiar. Have we met?”

I let out a bark of laughter. Lifting my wavy brown hair from around my face, I said, “Met? We've met. Do you recognize this face?”

He peered down at me. “I'm afraid not.”

I drew back my fist and struck him across the face. The sickening sound of flesh on flesh rang across my hearing, sweeping through my senses and leaving a throbbing red tattoo spattered across my knuckles. “Lost interest in your latest science project so quickly, Szayel?” I snarled. “Is life so meaningless to you?”

He blinked slightly, momentarily stunned by the blow. He looked down at me once again, eyes narrowed; eventually something seemed to click with him. His eyes widened. “You...”

I gave a depraved grin. “Yes, me. Do you remember the darkened cell? Aizen-taichō? Whatever you did to me?” I drew back my fist again. “Spill it, Szayel. How have you remained undetected down here on Earth so long?”

He reached down, that scrutinizing expression still plastered on. His fingers lightly brushed my face. “You're still alive...” he murmured, seemingly ignoring my question.

That was it. I let fly my fist again; unexpectedly, his own, larger hand caught it, holding it in place as I struggled. Otherwise his attention never left me, his eyes never straying from my own. Abruptly he snapped back into reality, his hand lowering to his side. The one holding my fist moved to my wrist and forced it down out of the way. I yanked my arm back.

He scowled down at me. “Don't struggle, girl. Yes, I have managed to stave off any impending capture under the cover of this gigai that I myself designed to mask my reiatsu. It's also stronger than you.

“Forgive me. It's just that you wouldn't be familiar with the pride that I feel in a successful experiment. No doubt you have never undergone such an endeavor. Your name is Satsuki, correct? Aida Satsuki?”

I stared back. “That's right. And what do you mean by 'successful experiment'?”

“Well, Satsuki-san, that's you. Aizen-sama and I worked on you and a number of other insignificant shinigami; you're simply the singularly successful trial of said experiment, the last before I escaped from Las Noches.”

I shook with anger; I was faintly surprised it didn't burn him. “How?” was the only word I could choke out.

He sighed, irritated. “After I defeated both the red-haired shinigami and the Quincy brat, Aizen-sama ordered me away from the battles involving the invading captains. I witnessed both him and my fellow Espada overrun; many had come, including the mismatched crew of shinigami and human, captains, even the vizard—also known as the former leaders of Seireitei. One of them was quite a shock for our poor Aizen-sama.”

Szayel smiled. “I don't know why I still refer to him as that. He lost the battle for us, after all. Our dear leader.” He chuckled. “I'm actually quite disgusted with him.”

I was only lost. “What the hell's a vizard?”

“A shinigami who has trespassed into hollow territory.” He looked at me levelly. “The brat who killed Aizen-sama is one. Kurosaki Ichigo. I heard that he is captain of the Fifth now; quite the achievement.

“I'm not surprised you didn't know that one, either. Imagine the unrest if one of the leaders, the figureheads of Soul Society was part Hollow, the very abomination they had sworn to eradicate.”

“What does this have to do with me?” I demanded. Right then I didn't care what the hell my captain was or did; I was only concerned with squeezing the shit out of the arrancar who had fucked up something inside me.

He gazed back at me, almost pityingly. “You are one, too. A vizard. Part hollow. Halfbreed. Whatever you wish to name it.”

Incomprehension must have shown on my face, because he sighed and said, “We're here because you wanted to know exactly what Aizen-sama and I had done to you that night, correct? Not to exchange chitchat like the old acquaintances we are?” He leaned closer. “I'm sure you can recall the device Aizen-sama used on you.”

A bright light descending, flashing, pain, stars—

He nodded at my expression. “That was called the Hougyoku. It could be activated for infinitesimal periods of time by fusing temporarily with someone in possession of twice the reiatsu of the average captain. Aizen-sama had such qualities; he used the Hougyoku not only to create us arrancar, but to create you, Satsuki-san. You, a vizard.

“You see, the Hougyoku has the ability to dissolve the boundary that separates shinigami and Hollow. Aizen-sama drew upon the Hougyoku, and we were born. Former hollows, then acquiring shinigami powers via the Hougyoku and becoming the arrancar.

“Then we used it in reverse. We captured potential subjects, modified them in various ways and degrees. Most of these subjects—shinigami—perished in the initial rounds: the modifications. The rest died during the second phase when Aizen-sama activated the Hougyoku and directed its energies towards them. Only one survived.”

Szayel reached up and gently removed my hands from his collar. I stared straight ahead, shocked, unable to resist.

He cupped my chin and turned me up to face him. “You, Satsuki-san. You alone survived the brutal rounds of testing, the trials, the Hougyoku. You also have far more potential than any of the previous vizard, which may prove to be more of a curse than a blessing. I believe I know the reason.

“We'd expanded and sterilized your mind, tempered your reiatsu to make you more susceptible to extraspiritual flows—namely that of the Hougyoku. All of these factors built towards potentially explosive amounts of spiritual energy. It was on a completely different level than that of an ordinary vizard.

“It was all very volatile, enough so that I was nervous of the outcome. You could have acquired enough reiatsu that your limited body exploded, taking a quarter of Las Noches with it; decomposed; or simply dropped dead from the strain.

“It was neither. A new, completely unexpected outcome developed. You see, as far as we know in our expansive knowledge on the dynamics of the body, mind and spirit, the bonds sealing the inner world of a shinigami can never be broken. Unlocked, yes, by the shinigami in question upon entering or exiting it, or in the materialization of their zanpakutou. It can be breached by a spirit-transfer shell from the outside. In actuality, each time a shinigami releases their zanpakutou, they create a controlled gateway between worlds.

“But never dissolved. The inner world of a shinigami is the most secure location known, so to speak. With the exception of a zanpakutou nothing can get out if it does not want to.

“This is precisely what occurred within you. Your Hollow sealed itself and its abundant quantities of reiryoku inside your inner world the moment it came into existence. There it waited, occasionally projecting minute amounts of power whenever the situation called for it.”

“Minute...?” I croaked.

Szayel nodded. “As I mentioned, your spiritual body could not normally sustain an entity such as that hollow without breaking down. The strain is too great. Its presence, over time, strengthened and conserved your body; eventually, someday, you may be capable of fully unlocking your inner hollow.”

He looked down at me pityingly. “When that day comes, I pray for the poor souls nearby; the uncontrollable powers are still capable of destroying you and those around you. Just because your body might take it doesn't mean the atmosphere can.”

I shook. I was terrified. Who wouldn't be, after practically having their death clock hung around their neck. “And you aren't sorry? At all?”

Szayel snorted. “Sorry? You were the test subject, I the scientist. Sacrifice is necessary in technological and scientific advancement.” He began to walk off. “Farewell, Satsuki-san; I hope you survive. For a shinigami, you were truly interesting.”

I could only stare at his retreating back.

I'm sure you're wondering how they managed to chat for so long without anyone confronting Szayel, the man who magically flew through a booth. To be frank, I don't know either.

Please review! I want to know whether the story is good, bad, bleh, or whether it's getting too boring. I want to know whether I kept Szayel suitably in character. I want to know how I handled the writing. Things will heat up soon; next chapter, in fact.