Chapter 2 – Precedent

It was laughably easy to access Kisuke Urahara's archives. A detachment of Menos Grande had been sent to the approximate location of the Kurosaki household and Urahara and company had gone running to assist Isshin Kurosaki. Aizen had subsequently slipped in through the front door and quietly made his way through the shop to the vault of information concealed in the back. Treading carefully, he stepped around a pile of discarded materials. Pausing for a moment, he observed a jar filled with Quincy arrows with a raised eyebrow. Elsewhere, a plain white material sat pushed to a side of a workbench in a partially carved block. Crates of intermingled candy and Gigai spilled onto the floor, as though they'd been haphazardly launched into storage rather than placed with any care. One particular dummy had been shoved upside down into a crate marked with a large skull and crossbones with "IF YOU WANT TO DIE THEN PLEASE STICK YOUR SWORD INTO IT ^^" scrawled across in utterly abysmal handwriting. Without pausing any further, he reached his destination.

A few taps at a console later revealed that Urahara too was at a loss as to what had happened to the Quincy. Months of copious input from experiments conducted with the Quincy Heilig Pfeil was present. Every instance of testing with other substances to create a binding effect had resulted in abject failure. No mention had been made of contacting any of the remaining Quincy for further information. Ichigo Kurosaki was deemed beyond help by any means that Urahara or his associates could offer. Urahara had recommended that Isshin's son be "taken off any life sustaining means and be left to pass naturally" and that the same should be done for Ishida's wife. Fortunately, it was advice that had been ignored as the entry had been made but a month into Ichigo Kurosaki's catatonic state. Fool.

A week of lost time through the Dangai for precisely as little information as he had before on the Quincy specifics. It was a shame Aizen didn't have more time to peruse the offerings of the database, but such a task was for another day. The detachment of Hollows was rapidly disappearing from his sensory awareness so Aizen left to complete the other reason for his visit.

His observations prior to travel indicated that Ichigo Kurosaki would not be leaving Karakura Hospital in anything remotely resembling a timely manner. Tracing his whereabouts through conventional sensory methods would alert Urahara and the others of his presence, as would hastily wielding Kyōka Suigetsu to cover any such attempts. Sensory perceptions relating to Reiatsu such as the faint traces left behind by his zanpakutō were not concealed by his natural abilities.

Indeed, his suspicions were confirmed as he flickered into view and found the boy in question sitting on same bench where the boy's father and cousin sat arguing only weeks prior. Browning leaves were dropping in the autumn air. Leaning against a nearby tree, Aizen simply watched. While a great deal less thin than his bedridden state, Ichigo's movements were still hampered. With slow and deliberate motions reminiscent of an old man, the boy rolled his shoulders. Arms and legs were extended with care before being retracted. A scowl across the child's face indicated that it was not being done in a state of comfort.

After the fifth repetition, Ichigo extended a hand and held it aloft. Aizen could feel the air itself shift as the Reishi in courtyard dislodged. Ichigo's arm trembled, a softly glowing ball of blue light forming in that single hand. The boy experimentally tossed it upwards, where it grew dense, faded edge lines becoming solid. It fell back into his hands with a gentle smack. Another toss, this time it landed in his other hand and wobbled as Ichigo stabilised it, refining edges back to a solid. Another toss, this time caught with both hands. Ichigo stretched the ball outwards and it ballooned into a size equivalent to a soccer ball.

Aizen watched the proto-Kidō with interest as it pulsated wildly. Ichigo forced it back into the size of a tennis ball and it glowed a blinding white. Without further ado, Ichigo turned to face Aizen's general direction and threw it. It left the boy's hand at speed. Aizen angled himself slightly, and it blew past, expanding as it travelled. Missing his cloak's hem by an inch, it impacted. Behind him, a tree's remaining leaves were blasted off in a halo of light, curling and burning in the air. Aizen himself was pushed against the bark of his own tree. In the cover of the rush of wind he exhaled quietly, lips twisting upwards. "Clever boy," he murmured into the gale.

Yet Ichigo had not turned his head from Aizen, nor had he summoned another orb. Instead he squinted directly at Aizen, brown eyes narrowing with suspicion. A coincidence or does he know I'm here? Aizen wondered. Between the Reiatsu suppressing properties and the weaved in Kidō, the cloak should have rendered him just about invisible.

Aizen, in a decision he would later reflect back on, waited. The urge to unseal Kyōka Suigetsu was absent as the orange mop of hair slowly made its way over. He could have pulled the blade and, in an instant, erased himself from all means of common perception. It lacked appeal for this was the first time anyone had taken note of him while cloaked. Whatever impulse had prompted his visit also stayed his hand for he could only watch, transfixed, as Ichigo made it to the tree and outstretched a pale hand. Groping generally in Aizen's direction, the boy edged forward until Aizen felt a gentle tug on the garment. As though reeling in a fish, the boy continued to pull along the invisible folds of cloth and Aizen felt a vice-like grip close around his arm. His limp arm was lifted and prodded by another finger, as though to confirm that it was real.

"How did you make yourself invisible?" The little boy asked, still holding on. Perhaps he had expected Aizen to vanish. It would have been a reasonable option, but it was not the option Aizen had taken.

Closing his entrapped hand around his captor's wrist, Aizen pulled Ichigo into the confines of his illusion. "I used Kidō," he said simply while holding Ichigo to one side. "I wrapped light around me to create the illusion of empty space. Mitigation of sound can done similarly by creating a barrier preventing its travel through the air. The same for preventing particles can be used to prevent scents from escaping."

Ichigo blinked, seemingly unaffected by the appearance of someone from thin air. "Is that the only way you can do it?" Aizen raised an eyebrow, he had been expecting a "why".

"You're a curious one, aren't you? There are other methods, but those tend to rely strongly upon direct alterations of sensory functions." A surreptitious scan of the surroundings reminded Aizen that perhaps this wasn't the most ideal location for such a conversation. "Perhaps we should discuss this elsewhere?" Aizen queried, and with a nod of Ichigo's head, he lifted Ichigo's far too light form into his arms and vanished again before the squawk of protest could register .

The unlikely pair came to a rest within a thick wooded area just beyond the outskirts of Karakura Town. Aizen placed Ichigo back onto the ground and watched him blink at the radically altered surroundings. Ichigo ambled to the lip of pond at the centre of Aizen's chosen clearing and sat without ceremony. Audible relief could be heard when Ichigo settled into the soft grass.

"So," Ichigo said, as though they hadn't crossed to the other side of the town in a single step, "other methods?"

"Are you not curious as to why I'm here?" Aizen prodded, as he took a seat opposite, shedding the hood of his cloak.

"Not really. Lots of weird people visit Karakura Town. The illusions are different though. I haven't seen those before."

"What have you seen before?"

"Hollows, Quincy, some blond guy who dresses like he came from the Fifties, random spirits, dad trying to be human and sucking at it, a weirdo that wears a haori and clogs everywhere, some spirit medium who's accidentally been making Hollows and you," Ichigo gestured apathetically. "None of them hide though. I don't think they know how to hide. You're the only one that's bothered to hide at all. Well, hidden and not tried to eat me," he added as an afterthought, "though the random watching is pretty weird in its own right too".

"Admittedly, that's not the reasoning I expected. I expected a human to be more unaware of the affairs of spirits."

"Sōken Ishida filled me in about a week ago after I woke up. He was kinda outraged that no one did it sooner and said that I should know about everyone who comes and goes. I wish I met him sooner." The week that Aizen had unfortunately missed while within the Dangai.

"Did his instructions extend to asking for names of those passing by?"

"I can't tell anyone that you were here if I don't know your name. You're hiding for a reason, right?"

"My designation, then?" Aizen asked with humour, electing to skip the confirmation that he was hiding from anyone.

"Some guy." An impatient shrug. "So yeah, you were saying before? I don't think we have too long before someone notices me missing." Ichigo pressed with an undercurrent of urgency. On the other side of town, the diminishing amount of Hollow Reiatsu reinforced those concerns.

"True enough, but I can cover for you for a little while at the very least." Even if the little while in question exposed him to discovery. "The latter illusions to which you expressed an interest do more than simply create an external reference point projection to deceive your target. This particular type of illusion more readily interferes with the brain of the victim to simulate or adjust various sensory distortions."

"So, you directly mess with their brain signals to change what they perceive?" He certainly was a smart boy.

"Indeed. In order to have an effect on such a delicate organ you must gain access to it through some means. The eyes of most creatures, Shinigami, Hollow, Quincy or otherwise are particularly vulnerable to penetration by Reiatsu in such an area as well as the eyes being an extension of the brain itself. For my purposes, it's highly convenient." Aizen smiled widely, showing numerous teeth.

"But the eyes aren't a necessity, they just make it easier?" Ichigo nodded.

"Correct again. Time is of the essence as vital opportunities may be lost while establishing your access point, hence the eyes are the simplest form of access."

"Do you ever need to re-establish it or does it just stay open?"

Stretching briefly, Aizen dedicated a moment of consideration towards the question. "An interesting question." Not one that Aizen ever had to contemplate or explain before either, so it went in the Sereitei. "With sufficient Reiatsu the first exposure is generally permanent or as close to permanent as is reasonably possible. Humans may function differently to spirits who vary quite substantially with their anatomy, so perhaps not for them. You would have to test it, something plausible enough to attract attention but not something so obvious so as to immediately alert them of the illusion."

"Like a fly."

"Yes, like a fly." It was somewhat amusing that Aizen hadn't thought of it first given his preoccupation for the past three months. Then again, with Kyōka Suigetsu he never really had a need to test the effectiveness of his hypnosis. His zanpakutō never forgot those subject to the release. Aizen himself seldom forgot them either for less flattering reasons. "I doubt you will have any issues saturating your opponent to create such an access point." Indeed, the result of his experiment sitting opposite had already deluged Aizen under a dense yet comfortable Reiatsu of an almost indiscernible nature. A lesser being would have been crushed.

"What are the risks of using too much?"

"With the nature of your Reiatsu, I would suspect an unpleasant cessation of existence." Unsurprisingly, the child cringed.

"Yeah, that'd be bad."

"Illusions in and of themselves require delicate balance, not just to prevent unwanted harm, but to prevent the discovery of the illusion. It would be best to start with a more common type of projection, then move to the subtler methodology," Aizen coaxed.

Coaxing that apparently hadn't been needed, for Ichigo shrugged and -"sure, you're the expert. You tell me."

"You're not worried about the quality of the information?" Probing.

"Not really. If you aren't as good as you think you are then I can try to remake whatever you showed me to work it out myself. Every lie has a grain of truth. That's what I have to do with everyone around here anyway from what Sōkken said. I don't think there's an honest spirit in this town."

"You seem somewhat resigned to it."

"Well, it's either that or beating everyone senseless. I don't think that'd go well for me in the long run." With the the child boasting a size smaller than Sarugaki, Aizen could believe it.

"Fair enough. Now, I suppose sight would be the way to start?"

There were few users of the illusionary arts. Fewer still were available for notes on technique to be exchanged and the art of deception was one that was fading rapidly from the realm of the common arts. Had it been more common, Aizen doubted that he would have remained undiscovered for over two centuries. Someone would have seen the signs. Signs, that as it turned out, his impromptu student was remarkably adept at reading and implementing.

Sight had hardly been an obstacle at all, with Ichigo handily shaping a lily as Aizen walked him through the steps of laying an illusion. Starting with a simple white shape, depth and colour were weaved in as more and more body was added to the form. Before long, a convincing flower sat in the boy's hands after much nit-picking of details. Unusually, there was little argument or snappiness as would be the usual response to any of teaching, but a prompt, if tired, obedience.

The next was feeling, as "an illusion that does not sit convincingly within its environment is useless".

"If someone blows on it then it should move?"

"Precisely."

As a more abstract concept, it was one that took Ichigo slightly longer to achieve, but with a helping of Reiatsu the flower became tangible. Or at least provided the impression of it for there was no flower at all, but a highly convincing selection of air registering within his mind as being a flower. With a breath, Ichigo blew on it, sending it floating into Aizen's own grip.

"What am I missing?"

Aizen stroked the construct, his fingers coming into contract with a non-quite smooth obstruction that flexed inwards as pressure was placed on it. "Some finer points of texture, but it will come with practice. A worthy first attempt."

Lulled, Aizen directed Ichigo through the projection of the remaining areas of hearing, taste and smell. By the end of his instruction Aizen helded a remarkably realistic replication of a lily of the valley. It sat delicately in his hand, an insubstantial construction of Reiatsu tethered to a few tiny threads which gave it form only in his mind. Had he not been completely enveloped in the boy's energies, he would have simply held air.

"I wasn't expecting this degree of success," Aizen admitted to his experiment. "Most first attempts aren't so convincing. Do you have any prior instruction?"

"Nope, nothing. Everyone assumes I'm an idiot and don't bother trying to teach me anything properly. I ask for some help, but I get laughed off. Doesn't matter what it's for either. These illusions are fairly similar to the ball I made earlier, only less Reiatsu, more design. Kinda like art class, but without the teacher calling me a punk every five minutes. I'm slow making them because everything I seem to do wants to explode."

"Yes, that is rather unfortunate if no one is willing to provide adequate teaching. Control is also a common problem given the delicacy required for competent crafting of such a nuanced Kidō." And with such a large portion of the Sereitei's most incompetent Shinigami and obfuscating Quincy it was little wonder that his experiment was making a solo effort. "The more illusions you craft the more familiar you will become with the amount of energy they require and, just as importantly, the amount of energy that other people expect."

"Basically, I need to keep trying until I can hold it in my sleep," Ichigo sighed.

"If you can manage that then you will be the second who has managed such a thing."

"Is that because it's hard or because you can count the illusionists around one hand?"

"You are a shrewd one, aren't you? Both are correct."

"Not as shrewd as I'd like." A closed expression ended the line of enquiry before there was a chance to pursue it further.

"Do you want this back?" Aizen asked instead, holding out the lily.

"Want what? There's nothing there," the boy said bluntly. "You can keep it if you want. Probably better if I make more for practice."

"Why the interest in such an area? Interest in my field of expertise is rather uncommon, regardless of species. You're the first person to so much as question the techniques themselves let alone the specifics that go towards their application." Pieces of the puzzle that were just beyond his reach. Aizen himself was a candidate for the Maggot's Nest long before any of his extra-curricular activities, purely on the basis of Kyōka Suigetsu's powers. He had never met anyone with abilities similar to his own for good reason. The amount of naïve souls locked below the 2nd Division were probably too numerous to count.

"It's because of Uryū's grandpa," Ichigo said gloomily. "After I found out about what happened to mum, he came in to talk to me. Told me about where Quincies get their powers from." Abruptly, the petals in Aizen's hands began to wilt.

"Oh?" Aizen asked, willing the petals back into life.

"Quincies get their powers from the Quincy King," Ichigo began to explain, a dark expression crossing his already grim face. "He infects people with his soul to give them powers and then takes it back to feed himself. Not just what he gave them, but all of their soul and it kills them," he grimaced. "When Quincies, uh, destroy a soul with their powers then that soul goes straight to the King. He's like a giant blood sucking leech, you know, if leeches gave you the ability to see dead people and shoot arrows at them." Ichigo leaned in towards Aizen. "The guy's a huge bastard."

"Language," Aizen chided, but failed to prevent the smirk from forming on his face. "You wish to deny him those souls. What better way than to do so then through misdirection?" Aizen said, almost to himself. An oddly poetic reason. "Yes," he whispered, "I believe I can assist you in that endeavour. You aren't bothered by the effects of such techniques upon other people?" Aizen asked lightly.

"Not really. People don't need illusions to misdirect people. Illusions help with it, but it's not like they're the root of everything bad in themselves," Ichigo shrugged. "Like, it'd be a bit of a stretch for, say, my dad to have a go at illusionists after he lied to me for nine years about the spirits I was seeing. We have plenty of magicians over here who use sleight of hand and trick people for entertainment. Part of the fun is working out how the magician did the illusion. It's pretty popular in America. People pay good money for it." Oblivious to the dumbfounding affect the information had on Aizen, Ichigo carried on. "The problem isn't the illusions, it's the intent of the person carrying out the illusion. I'm tired of people doing things because it supposedly helps me. They do it because it helps themselves." Aizen found himself being pointedly looked up and down with the utterance of the last sentence.

"It's a sensitive topic for you. My apologies for raising it." Not that Aizen truly was sorry, for if he hadn't he doubt he ever would have learnt of humans misleading each other for profit and pleasure.

"You're not sorry for raising it. No one really is, it's not like their mum died when it happened," came the bitter response, blazing through Aizen's platitudes with a refreshing quality. "Yeah, mum died because I couldn't tell the difference between the living and the dead. All because they wanted to pretend that nothing happened before I was born," Ichigo looked upwards. "He wasn't protecting me, only himself. That Hollow could've turned up at school and mum wouldn't have been there to save me. No one would have been there. I'd have been eaten and they probably would've carried on like nothing happened. If dad did that for mum, it probably would've been worse for me." Disconcerting was Ichigo speaking of his father's indifference towards him. Something that was accepted as a given rather than a childish assumption. "He'd care more if my sisters were involved." A pause, "I hope".

Mechanically, Aizen gently patted the boy on the shoulder. Uncertainty was a factor in all experiments. Factoring in a father's disregard for his son was one he had perhaps overlooked too quickly. "I've always found it best to view the world as it should be, rather than tolerate its flaws as present. In an ideal world, you would have been told and your mother might still be alive today. While you cannot change what has happened, there's always the potential of preventing its reoccurrence."

"In an ideal world, the Quincy King would be a puddle being scraped off the floor."

"That too," Aizen allowed with a smirk. "A change of topic, if you wouldn't mind as our time is running out."

"Go for it."

"I explained how the illusions worked, now there's something that's eating away at my curiosity. How did you know that I was there? The properties of my cloak should leave me well beyond detection." Aizen asked, caressing the white flower he'd been given. Tiny threads of black and red Reiatsu clung to his fingers as he pulled away.

A small frown, then – "I felt you standing there. Not real you, but the space you should have been in. I felt the missing space and decided to have a look," Ichigo shrugged. "I figured that if anything was going to eat me then it would have done it already."

"You're the only person who's ever noticed there being an absence."

Ichigo raised an eyebrow, "is everyone else blind?"

Aizen inclined his head. "Probably. It's a lean towards wilful blindness. To give you the equivalence, sensing of Reiatsu to such a degree for a Shinigami is the equivalent to a human using their arm hair to detect airflow within a room. It simply isn't something even contemplated by the average Shinigami. Positive phenomena tend to be more highly regarded of than an absence of something."

A snort. "You just nailed how my old man works."

"It's not something that surprises me. Shinigami are notorious for their… dismissal of those with views differing to the decreed norm of the Sereitei. Their method of disposing of these differing ideas is rather extreme," Aizen said delicately.

"What, do they toss you into a prison or something? You tell them to do something differently then just vanish in the middle of the night and nobody asks questions because they don't want to end up in the cell next to you," came the casual reply. It was all Aizen could do to force down a struggling eyebrow that threatened to lift. "It's how every dictatorship works over here. Lots of humans have written books about it happening for real and talk about it in fiction."

"I see that humans have already mastered that particular technique."

"If you want to read about it, I can give you some recommendations. We've been running and overthrowing them for twenty-thousand odd years. Probably longer, but written history doesn't go back that far."

"The Sereitei hasn't had a change in government for thousands of years," Aizen commented idly. "It's rather traditionalistic in that regard."

"Someone should probably do something about that if it's causing problems," Ichigo said bluntly. "Over here we vote out people we don't like. Other countries have riots."

"Revolutionaries are hunted down and killed by the Onmitsukidō at the behest of the Central 46. If only dealing with the nobles was as simple as a matter of voting. A… colleague of mine has frequently expressed dissatisfaction with the behaviour of the nobles, but having it acknowledged as a problem is beyond the abilities of most. Too many benefit from their own noble heritage to truly want to see the system undone."

"Oh well, if it's not fixed in eighty years I'll see if I can do something about it," the nine-year old said rather seriously. "Explosions fix everything," he nodded.

Aizen leaned forward and ruffled Ichigo's hair, not for any reason other than to prevent an open display of surprise. "I wouldn't tell them that if I were you."

"Is that because you'll be in the cell next to me?"

"No, no," Aizen dismissed casually, "they will simply grant me a public execution."

"Well, there's a reason to reach old age if there was ever one… Can't imagine a place where we aren't allowed to even make fun of those sorts people."

Coughing, Aizen noticed a shadow creep towards them as the sun began to set. "I think I have overstayed my welcome. Would you like me to take you back to your bed before your family notices your absence?"

"My dad wouldn't notice me dying. I'll point you to the corridor."

Picking up the hybrid for a second time that day, Aizen vanished. As he did so, the illusionary lily was slipped into a pocket.

Aizen paused in the hospital corridor as per Ichigo's directions.

"Which room is yours?"

"The one on the left – hey!"

Fighting the half-hearted struggles of the boy in his arms, Aizen leisurely made his away across the threshold of Ichigo Kurosaki's sterile hospital room. With exaggerated care, Aizen deposited Ichigo between the sheets and tucked him in.

"This is weird. Even dad hasn't tucked me in ages," Ichigo grumbled, but not resisting.

"His loss. He should be more considerate of such things when it comes to raising children." Considerate enough to realise that his son regarded him with irritation at the best of times.

All he heard was snort in response and something that sounded suspiciously close to a "not likely". "Oh well, I'm going to sleep. Thanks for answering my questions," the boy mumbled. "Don't get caught and you should've brought a teapot." And he rolled over, snuggling into his sheets.

"It was my privilege. Good night." And Aizen was gone.

In the confines of his inner wold, Ichigo looked at his zanpakutō spirits.

"You know, Your Majesty, when I told you to ask Aizen for help I wasn't being serious," Zangetsu said in an awestruck voice. "What possessed you to actually go over to him?"

"Oh shut up." Ichigo crossed his arms. "I was curious to see if he'd bail or not. I didn't think he'd just wait for me. I'm pretty sure he never visited in person last time."

"He didn't really have much of a reason to until he sent Short Stuff in as bait. He probably got bored. Or maybe he just thought you were pathetic and needed real problems to worry about. Like me!" Zangetsu cackled.

"Your skills have changed. Before you wouldn't have been able to sense the absence of his presence," the Quincy spoke from behind the Hollow.

"But now that I'm not totally hopeless, I can?" Ichigo hazarded a guess.

"That and you're showing signs of having some weird ass abilities a lot earlier now. Three months in a coma then seemingly cheating death and giving Arrow Lad's mother her powers back? Let's be honest, it's Aizen. The guy was probably drooling before you even saw him."

"Can you stop with the food imagery and Aizen? It's creepy as hell."

"If only you knew. But hey, now we don't completely suck for at least one part of Shinigami magic."

"Yeah, a highly illegal part. None of this stuff was even in any of the recommended reading materials I saw for Kidō. Those have names and incantations, but what he showed me isn't like that at all. It's like this stuff was all about instinct, like…" Ichigo fumbled.

"Like using a zanpakutō," Zangetsu helpfully finished. "We exerted Reiatsu and moulded it until it felt, smelt, looked, sounded and tasted real. We even put of coat of concealer to hide our Reiatsu on it. How much do you wanna bet that it's the same approach Aizen takes with Kyōka Suigetsu?" Zangetsu leaned back, exposing a shark-like smile.

"It's not the same application, though. Aizen needs to have people see his release for them to be vulnerable to the illusions. It's sight based. Ours are more…"

"Come into contact with our Reiatsu and you're screwed, which is a notch more on the effectiveness scale," the sword finished. "His powers work the same subject to Kyōka Suigetsu's rules of sighting the release. Ours has a bigger downside though. If you get distracted it screws with the illusions. That ain't the case for Aizen with Kyōka Suigetsu doing all the heavy lifting for him as far as the actual illusions are concerned. He can get knocked out and his spirit takes care of maintenance by default. Neither me or the old man know anything about that crap. The most we can do is amplify whatever you make so it lasts."

"So it's the same methodology, but a modified application."

"The weave of the Kidō feels similar to the one surrounding his cloak," the Quincy remarked. "Presumably he has lesser need of it given the convenience of his inherent powers. Maintaining realism will simply be a matter of practice. Perhaps you can develop some exercises to manage the weakness in your technique."

"We have to pass whatever test he puts us through when he comes back, as well," Zangetsu groaned. "This is gonna suck."

"Oh crap, he is coming back, isn't he?" Ichigo paled.

"After the impression you just left, I'm surprised that he didn't just pick you up and abscond the moment you gave him that flower. Hell, he might even bring the teapot next time and you two can whinge about how much Soul Society sucks even more."

"It didn't go that well," Ichigo tried to deny, a thrill of dread shooting down his spine.

"Kingo, I don't think he's willingly had skin contact with anyone let alone tucked someone into bed for the entire length of his life. But hey, on the bright we're learning Kidō from the best of them!"

"Shit."

"Pretty much. The other bright side is that so long as Aizen's here he'll cover us from Urahara."

A pained groan was the only response.

Within the Sereitei, Aizen stepped out of the Dangai. An odd feeling wove its way through him, smoothing the edge of his contempt. Perhaps for a moment he could disregard the inhabitants of this place given the productivity of his excursion. Gin's almost immediate presence was of little deterrence to his mood as Aizen stashed his cloak and made his way back to the 5th Division barracks. All that remained from his outing was the delicate fold of cloth and the illusion of Ichigo's lily of the valley held within.

"Evening, Taichō, you've been real busy lately. Neither me or Tōusen have seen you properly months. Maybe your shadow," a leer, "but nothing else. What's that you're holding?"

Aizen smiled faintly, revealing the lifelike lily. "Something that requires a somewhat different approach."

"Ah, pretty, smells nice too. Highly poisonous to boot, gives people heart failure," Gin commented brightly as he looked over Aizen's shoulder as the flower was placed in a vase on a desk. If only Gin knew.

Reigning in a far too telling response, Aizen replied truthfully, "indeed, it's part of a project I'm working on. It's coming along beautifully."