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Romance and Rivalries	By : Kinnikuman Category: Bleach > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2658 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Neither author owns or holds any rights to "Bleach". No profit is made from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
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Chapter Thirty
By Robin
Aizen stretched his legs and smiled as he gazed out of the limousine window.
It was certainly a luxurious vehicle, and customised to his liking. The windows were of course tinted to avoid casual glances or looks, and it was smaller than usual so as to accommodate perhaps around five or six comfortably, but no more. Aizen enjoyed riding in luxury, it was comfortable and allowed him to flaunt the wealth he had worked so hard to acquire, and he truly felt like the leader he was born to be.
He enjoyed the fact that he could ride in such lavishness, he enjoyed the fact that it was one more thing to separate him from his men, creating a visual border between the superiors and subordinates, reminding his men of their place beneath him both socially and financially. It was not gloating per se, as others had accused him of in the past, but merely a willingness to accept his role as the man in charge and act according to his position. Why should he, after all, drive in a sports car or a convertible or even a mini when he had worked hard to acquire the money needed for a limousine? Would a king ride by horse-and-cart? Would am emperor travel by taxicab? No, and neither would Aizen Sosuke. It was for that reason he had customised his travel to suit him in all ways.
There were two black cars following them, obviously security, one just ahead and one just behind, along with cars of regular and casual appearance so as to avoid looking like part of their entourage. The limousine was smaller to suit this. A larger vehicle would make security rather difficult, and besides there was an intimacy with smaller vehicles that large modes of transport lacked. Here he could look his men in the face and talk to them as individuals, he enjoyed that, and he enjoyed the power that came from it. These were his men and this was his car, and he was the director of the scene, the writer of the script, and he was in control.
Of course . . . he had not planned for his subordinates’ arrival.
That had been unexpected. He would not admit to the feeling of surprise though, simply because that would mean he had failed to plan accordingly and lost some of the control he had accumulated over the years. So instead he merely accepted the strange turn of events with an indifferent willingness, and tried to shape them to his liking, turning the surprise to his advantage. He had embraced his guests’ attendance, tried to steer the conversation, and welcomed any new changes as a way of learning new things and enhancing his current level of knowledge. It had merely been a shame that things never seemed to go according to plan as far as his two closest employees were concerned. He knew that Tousen was somewhat easy to manipulate, and that Gin was certainly one to watch out for, but that said events involving the two seemed to end in unexpected ways . . .
One could always expect the unexpected, but at the same time the unexpected by nature left one always with a minor element of surprise. He knew one day Tousen would leave him, that Gin would betray him, but he also knew he would still feel a minimal amount of shock nonetheless when these things occurred, until then he would simply have to endure their rather . . . unique surprises on an almost daily basis.
He had received a phone call from Tousen earlier that day. The blind man had confirmed arrangements for Aizen’s vehicle and chauffer, stating that Ulquiorra would not chauffer due to a conflicting schedule but that Nnoitra could assume the role easily enough. That was followed by how Jeagerjaques and Kurosaki had already arrived safely at the holiday home, how Komamura-san had kindly offered to baby-sit Nelliel for the duration of the weekend, and how Szayel seemed to be coping better in the work environment, and did Aizen-sama realise Ichimaru would be riding to the beach with Kira?
Aizen had immediately phoned Gin and told him to make alternate arrangements, it simply would not do to ride with Kira, if they were seen the consequences could be disastrous.
That had unfortunately resulted in being forced to share his limousine with Tousen and Gin, being that Gin had taken upon himself to invite himself along with Tousen, on the assumption that if Aizen had not wanted him to travel with Kira it was obviously because he wanted them to travel with him instead. Aizen had not been in any mood to argue with his friend and colleague, and so allowed him to ride in the limousine also. He very much regretted his decision.
Luckily the soundproof window had been rolled up between their seats and the driver, because he was certain he did not want a lowly employee such as Nnoitra hearing their inane conversations . . .
“Ah, look here, Aizen-sama!” Gin said, turning his mobile phone around to show the brunet. “Says that Ukitake-san has fully recovered! Ain’t that good news? Bet ya can use that in yer lawsuit right?”
“Perhaps, Gin,” Tousen said a little forcefully, his hands moving over the Braille of his book, “you should be texting Unohana-sensei as opposed to old colleagues, after all your personal health is much more important to us than any work commitments. You will be spending a weekend away without your therapy sessions, the condition of that was that you ring Unohana and talk to her on a regular basis.”
“Ah, ya too much of a worrywart, Tousen-san! Ya know full well I’m fine.”
“I see,” Tousen said a little coldly.
Aizen drew in a deep – but silent – breath and watched his two subordinates from the corner of his eye. Gin had dressed in smart, black, form-fitting trousers and a tight, white shirt, something that seemed to say the silver-haired man had nothing to hide, that he was perfectly content wearing such figure revealing clothing because he knew – or at least believed – he was back to full health.
It would have spoken volumes about Gin’s progress, however the coat he wore was long, white, far too large, and reached the backs of his knees, hiding his entire body from sight. He clearly sought to try and assure people he was fine, but at the same time knew he was not, forced to hide his body behind ridiculously large clothing. All the while he wore a bright smile and grinned almost manically, as if he thought a happy disposition automatically equalled a happy heart. It was possible that soon enough Kira would notice this behaviour, that he would help Gin in a way that Aizen himself could not, and he truly hoped this was the case, because – if things grew worse – he would lose Gin to Unohana as he became hospitalised, and he could not afford to lose his right-hand man.
Meanwhile Tousen sat to Gin’s left side, dressed in a highly fashionable ensemble that rivalled Gin’s permanent casual and somewhat shabby look. He had let his hair down and tied some beads into some of his locks, his glasses were semi-opaque and of the latest style, and his leather jacket was loose but still gave a shape to his form that made him seem highly attractive. He was calmly reading a book with one hand and reaching into his bag beside him with his other. There was a clacking sound followed by a sweet aroma, and Tousen retrieved a wrapped sandwich from his bag, handing it across to Gin without even deigning to glance in his direction.
“I am glad you are fine, Gin,” Tousen said indifferently. “Wonderweiss was helping Sajin this morning make my lunch, and he got a little carried away, it was his first time making something all on his own with minimal supervision.” His face sparkled with a faint smile. “It was very sweet, and he did an excellent job, sadly I do not think I can eat it all before it will go off. Please, allow me to share with you.”
Although Tousen could not see the look on Gin’s face, Aizen could. His ‘adoptive’ son was looking at the sandwich with an expression of complete contempt and disgust, his smile curling somewhat into a half-snarl, whilst his eyes glared holes into Tousen’s face. He was clearly pissed, and despite his wide smile he was not hiding it well from the older man.
“Nah,” Gin eventually replied, “Yer forgetting I’ve met that kid o’ yours. I don’t trust him not to drool over everything, ya know? I don’t wan’ t’ catch anythin’, kids today are just full o’ diseases, let alone ones that play with those two dogs –! Ah, sorry, my mistake, that one dog . . . I forget ya only got one. I wonder why I thought yer had two? The only other livin’ thing in ya house is Komamura-san . . . an’ he’s not remotely dog-like, is he?”
Tousen’s eye twitched and he smiled bitterly, putting the sandwich away. This time Gin’s smile was sincere and warm, although it was quickly replaced with a confused half-grin and half-frown when Tousen pulled out a large can . . .
“I understand; many people have a phobia of germs. Would you perhaps like some soup instead? I made it myself. There is no chance of there being drool or dog hairs in it, I assure you. I will even have some myself if it make you feel better, Gin.”
“Ja, I don’t like you.”
Ah, this would certainly be a long trip indeed . . .
Aizen bit the inside of his cheek as he kept up his eternal smile, watching the blurring landscape outside with a sense of detachment. It was indeed very clear that Gin had a problem, Tousen had certainly shown that, but he was not certain whether Tousen’s actions could be considered ethical or not. It seemed somewhat cruel to taint Gin with food merely to prove that something was very much amiss.
He could certainly understand why the darker man had done that, and he was pleased that his subordinate had such a strong sense of justice and equality that he would try to help Gin, despite the silver-haired man’s childish comments. It was merely that Gin was not a person to push. It was true that with some people pushing them and pushing them could work, such as with the Kurosaki boy who had the type of personality that when he was backed against a wall he would come out fighting, almost as if he had some innate instinct to prove himself and make things right, no matter what. He would see that the problem lay within and would change himself to fix things.
Gin, however, was a man that would let things fester and seethe inside him, he saw no desire to fight a problem or to fix it, instead he merely sought to get revenge against those who he saw as standing in his way. Gin did not see his eating disorder as a problem, and so – being backed against a wall – he merely saw Tousen as the problem and would seek revenge against him, which would escalate into yet another battle of practical jokes and snide insults. It would only add to Aizen’s stress.
He already had to endure what would be a frustrating attempt at fixing relations between Arrancar and Vizard, hence his reason for going to the beach-house also. It seemed that the two Arrancars at the beach had not alerted Shinji to this, knowing he would most certainly have refused to go if it involved trying to be civil to Sosuke and building bridges. At the same time Grimmjow had rented the use of the beach-house for some of his friends to use for his planned holiday, and that meant having to endure the presence of a multitude of teenagers. Of course Ishida, Yamada and Kuchiki would always be welcome, but there was a very deep-seated hate between the Shiba clan and the Aizen family, and he could only imagine what lies Shiba Ganju had told his sister in order to go to the beach. Kira had lied also.
He was allowed to stay at Aizen’s home as Aizen was most respectable, and Kira’s family adored Matsumoto and Hisagi . . . amusingly Kira had neglected to tell them his two friends would be staying at the Shihoin home, whilst Gin stayed in the same house as adorable Kira-kun. Gin had decided to ‘share’ his room with Tousen, and then sneak out each night to Kira’s room one floor below, meaning that – if questioned – Kira could lie and say that Gin and himself had separate rooms, something that only the two of them, Tousen and Aizen would know to be untrue.
“Ah, I got a text from Kuchiki-san! Ain’t that nice?” Gin said, breaking Aizen out of his thoughts. “Says he’s just came public about his relationship with Zaraki-san, but his grandpa ain’t keen on it at all, and Rukia-chan is fumin’!”
Tousen jerked his head upright and paused in his reading. “What is a man as refined as Kuchiki Byakuya doing with a brute like Zaraki-sensei?”
“Who knows? Ya know what they say about opposites attracting though.”
“I suppose that explains what an innocent boy like Kira-kun sees in a man like you.”
“Eh, yer think we’re that different? Nah! We’re perfect for one another! He’s so masochistic, ya know? He likes it when ya talk rough to him, and loves all these little games that even make me blush! Ya can do what ya want to him and he doesn’t even object! Ja . . . got t’ be careful though, he bruises like a peach, he’s still got the teeth marks on his stomach to prove it.”
Tousen frowned and closed his book with a solid bang.
He never had agreed with Gin’s relationship with Kira, and Aizen knew he despised hearing details. The blind man knew that their relationship was now legal, but he saw Kira as too young and naïve, blinded by first love and unable to see Gin for what he truly was. Even if Kira was more mature he did not believe for an instant that the blond boy could help Gin with his problems, and if anything he would merely make Gin’s eating disorder worse, as Gin fought to compete with Izuru’s naturally lower weight and look good for his lover. Gin was his teacher. He was merely using and abusing his old student, manipulating him and his feelings . . .
Tousen slipped his book into his bag and then removed his bento-box. The lacquered surface sat on his lap as he felt around the contents, the can of soup splashed a little in his bag beside his book, and he could hear a rattling of marbles that Wonderweiss had put in his side-pocket to keep his father from getting bored. He smiled at the thought of his son and then felt around for a small item.
They had been teaching Wonderweiss to cook for himself recently. They had reasoned that their son needed to learn valuable key life skills as early as possible, so that as he grew older he would be able to look after himself, after all he would not be a child forever. Luckily Wonderweiss had picked the skill up quickly, seemingly inheriting a talent for cookery from his blind father, perhaps from watching him cook huge and elaborate meals over the years. The blond boy needed silence to concentrate, but managed to follow instructions perfectly. He mostly made sandwiches, but they had taught him to make cakes, brownies and cookies too, hoping that fun and sweet recipes would ease him into an otherwise arduous task. Just last night he had made a wonderful chocolate-chip muffin for his father’s trip.
“This is for you, Gin,” Tousen said, handing over the foiled muffin to his colleague. “Do not worry. Wonderweiss made it, but I made sure it was healthy and low fat for you; we did not use milk, butter, sugar, wheat, gluten or real chocolate. It is no different to those tasteless muffins people buy when on a diet. It was made especially for you; we did add some vitamins to it to help you however.”
“Ja? Really? Thanks, Kaname!”
Tousen smiled warmly to himself. He reached into his lunchbox and began to eat upon one of the many, many sandwiches as he listened to the sounds of foil being unfolded and then the muffin being devoured.
It took Gin a very long time to eat, in which time Tousen had already consumed two cheese and tomato sandwiches, one rice-ball and some steamed fish, but when Gin was done he seemed very happy at finally being able to eat something so delicious but without the remotest sign of a calorie. This cemented the belief in Aizen’s mind that his colleague had a problem, especially if he would not eat anything otherwise. Eventually Tousen put his bento-box away and retrieved the soup, relishing in its steamy aroma as he poured two cups, one for himself and one for Aizen.
“I’m sorry, Gin,” he said after a long while.
“Eh, what for?”
“You are not the only one who can lie. That muffin had all the ingredients I mentioned, including full-fat milk, butter and extra sugar. You have just eaten what is essentially a very normal muffin.”
Aizen sipped his soup with a low sigh. It had a delicious taste but it was somewhat spoiled by how green Gin’s face had become, how his hands shook and how his smile had finally worked its way away from his face. He was clearly feeling extremely sick, and he looked so poorly that Aizen was sure they would need to stop the car. Tousen merely handed Gin a sick-bag with a dangerous smile, one that Gin accepted without so much as a glare or snide remark.
“I think I’m goin’ t’ throw up, Aizen-sama . . .”
Aizen winced at the sound that followed. This was going to be a very long trip . . .
* * *
“Aw, hey! I got a text!”
Kisuke watched as Renji fumbled around frantically for his phone.
He’d been edgy and jumpy for the entire ride so far; each time his phone made the slightest noise he seemed to dive for it in the same way Aizen dived towards the smell of a lawsuit, and each time he read a message he would smile manically or blush cutely. When Kisuke had asked the redhead about it he’d just stumbled with his words and became rather nervous, saying ‘ah, it’s nothing, really! Just Ichigo complaining again’, or weirder than that ‘just Tessai-Otousan making sure we’re okay’.
What Kisuke wanted to say in response was that if Renji was blushing and smiling at the thought of his taken friend, or his own father, that he needed serious counselling, but instead he kept quiet. Renji was pretty much an open-book with his emotions, and Kisuke had been young once. He knew what it was like to get hot and flustered over a new boyfriend, or how your stomach felt like it had butterflies at the very thought of your ‘soulmate’, and Renji was showing all the symptoms! He was such an obvious kid, but at the same time he was very guarded and easily embarrassed, if Kisuke were to mention his little crush then Renji would no doubt freak out and deny the whole thing, determined to make it seem like he wasn’t texting Uryu all day at all. It wasn’t that he thought Kisuke would mind, but he knew full well Ishida-san had forbidden Uryu from dating Renji, and he didn’t want Uryu to getting into any trouble, it was best to keep it secret until Uryu was ready to face his father.
That wasn’t to say Kisuke condoned the relationship, but he tolerated its existence nonetheless. He liked Uryu, he was a cute kid and highly intelligent too, he had the most amazing skills too, able to sew and craft in ways that had to be seen to be believed, and – honestly – he reminded Kisuke a lot of Tessai, which was probably why Kisuke found himself approving of Renji’s choice. The only reason he didn’t approve was because one of his best friend’s – Uryu’s dad – had forbidden the relationship, and he couldn’t exactly say to Renji ‘go ahead!’ in the face of things, which is probably why Renji was determined to keep it secret . . .
Renji flipped open his phone and a light blush graced his features as he rapidly clicked buttons then read his message, he didn’t even look up as Yoruichi’s phone beeped too. She was sitting next to Renji on the back passenger seat, with Kisuke opposite her, and Shinji in the front passenger seat next to Soi Fon – the driver. They’d opted for taking the mini-van in the end, much to Renji’s disgust.
“Oh, wow, it’s from . . . Yumichika!”
Kisuke rolled his eyes, in the course of an hour Renji had ‘texts’ from everyone he knew except from Uryu, and he was obviously running out of people to think of if Yumichika was the only person left he could think of.
Shinji’s phone suddenly went off at the front of the car. Aizen’s voice rang out of the device saying loudly as a ring-tone, so that the entire car could hear, ‘I have taken the opportunity to remove the vibrating feature from your phone, Hirako-san. I know you must miss me, but you’re unfortunate habit of wearing your phone in your front trouser pocket disconcerts me, please forgive my actions.’ Shinji went bright red and insisted that he had no idea how Aizen had been able to tamper with his phone, changed the settings at once, and then exclaimed in surprise he had a text message.
It was extremely frustrating that Shinji could be so naïve as to trust Aizen, and this was the perfect example of that. Yoruichi merely laughed loudly as Kisuke sighed and shook his head, Renji was red as a strawberry and stammering for something to say, and Soi Fon – in her prudish, virginal way – was so angry at the set text-tone that she grabbed the phone from Shinji and threw backwards. It hit the floor hard and skidded over to Yoruichi’s feet, where she picked it up and began to look through Shinji’s messages, at which point – even more annoyingly – Renji’s phone went off again.
Kisuke’s phone went off too, as did Soi Fon’s, but before he could check his phone Yoruichi was opposite him fiddling with her halter-top, her breasts jiggling right in front of his eyes almost hypnotically . . .
“Oh, don’t you just hate it when the knot comes loose?” she said, undoing the knot at the back of her neck. “Close your eyes, Renji-kun, will you? I need to redo the knot and if my hands slip I’ll end up flashing you.”
“That really worries you?” Kisuke said, fanning his face. “I mean they don’t call you ‘Flash Goddess’ Yoruichi for no reason . . .”
Renji laughed as Yoruichi lifted her well-shaped leg and booted his father hard in the face, not even deigning to look at him as she kept her foot there and tormented him with the rather foul odour. She merely kept looking directly at the driving mirror, using it to adjust her top, and after a few moments ‘accidentally’ let her hand slip, at which point her top fell and exposed two, large, firm, beautiful, drool-worthy breasts for all to see . . .
“Oops! Oh my, look what I’ve done!”
Renji was prevented from further staring as his father jumped one seat over and shoved his fan in front of Renji’s face, and – desperate for a peek – Renji fought with him to remove the damned fan. Then came the sound of ‘Yoruichi-sama!’ and Yoruichi’s insane laughing as the car swerved, Shinji swore, and after a three-sixty spin Kisuke and Renji were sent hurtling to the floor on top of one another, Yoruichi – by that point – having redone her top and looking as modest as ever.

Okay, he was really getting too old for this . . . Kisuke really wasn’t in the mood to get into near-death accidents just because Yoruichi was desperate to seduce her young bodyguard, and he certainly didn’t want to be subject to Shinji’s dangerous relationship with Aizen-sama, and he didn’t want to have to pretend like Renji’s bad acting was in anyway or form believable!
He winced as Renji jumped up onto his seat, with a yell of ‘he’s text me again . . . Zaraki-sensei I mean! Yeah, Zaraki!’ There was a harsh pain under his stomach as he realised he was lying on Shinji’s mobile phone, and he groaned and handed the device back to Shinji who began to read his messages. Kisuke simply sighed as he crawled back into his seat, and this time fastened his seatbelt, also making sure to reach across and fasten his son’s. Renji didn’t even object to being treated like a child as he rapidly began to read through his messaged, more absorbed in what Uryu was saying than what Kisuke was doing. When he was done he checked his own phone too, like everyone else he’d received a message earlier and was interested to read it, knowing it was probably just Tessai being overprotective and worrying about him.
“Ah, this is so sweet!” Renji exclaimed with a smile, ignoring Yoruichi as she genuinely fixed her outfit. “It’s – err – Hanataro! He just says it’s great that he’s my – err – friend, and that I really mean a lot to him, and that he can’t wait to suck . . . my . . . Err, wait, this isn’t right.” Renji scrolled down a little more and winced. “Gee, that’s just disgusting! Who the hell sent this?”
Shinji waved his phone in the air, then waved it for a whole new purpose as he tried to keep it out of the way of Soi Fon’s grabs and attempts to snatch it. In the end he threw it backwards, where he hadn’t noticed Kisuke change seats, and hit the shopkeeper on the head. Kisuke sighed and read the message, comparing it to the one on his phone and then signalling to Yoruichi who handed over her phone for comparison too.
“Looks like Gin pressed ‘send to all’ by mistake,” Kisuke said casually, handing the phones back and smiling innocently at Renji. “If you’ll look the text is addressed to Kira-kun, and it’s from Ichimaru-san.”
Yoruichi laughed and patted Renji hard on the back, “Don’t worry, kid, I’m sure Uryu will write you a text like that one day too!”
“I doubt it,” Kisuke replied. “Tessai never sends me texts like that, and it’s uncanny how similar Uryu is to Tessai too . . .”
Kisuke smiled behind his fan as he heard Renji groan loudly. Ah, it was always fun to torture the poor kid, and he hadn’t even mentioned the fact that Renji would be sharing a room with Kisuke and Shinji yet! No doubt he’d realise on his own when they arrived though, and no doubt he’d soon realise that Uryu would be sleeping in a separate building at Aizen-sama’s . . .
The only problem would be keeping Renji and Shinji away from Aizen’s.
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