TO BE KING
by: Riseha

Chapter 3

Not two weeks after my existence was revealed – and it still made me want to wilt into the ground because whenever I wandered around Seireitei, everyone found it prudent to stare – I joined the Shin'o Academy. I figured it was pointless to wait any longer. The only reason I'd continuously declined admittance was because I didn't feel ready to face the world as Seireitei's soon-to-be most hated enemy.

The entrance exam couldn't even be called that. It was clear everyone loved my father and was absolutely smitten with him.

"Ah, Aizen-taichō's daughter," the bearded instructor noted, smiling vaguely at me. His eyes twinkled with curiosity.

My face was impassive, lacking the smile my father so often wore. I had nothing to hide. "… Yes." I finally spoke when it seem as if they wanted a response from me.

The examination room was similar to what I imagined where scholarship application interviews took place: a spacious room built out of wood and a scroll hanging form walls, written in perfect calligraphy writing. There was a clothed desk before the three interviewers. I stood a few feet away from them, eyeing the scrolls critically.

Noticing where I was looking, the bespectacled interviewer said, "Your father wrote that. Impressive writing."

I refrained from rolling my eyes. Did he think I was blind? I had enough calligraphy lessons from Aizen to know his handwriting. I grunted in affirmation. "Can we start now?"

The three of them exchanged blinks. What, they wanted pleasantries? Fat chance. My dad got that covered, I gotta cover rudeness and evilness for him. "Very well," acquiesced the bearded man – the woman with her hair tied into a bun had yet to speak as she analyzed me deeply – steepling his fingers. "We only require you to demonstrate reiryoku. Seeing who your father is, I doubt you will have trouble."

"Hado #33: Sōkatsui!"

In retrospect, unleashing a huge torrent of blue energy to destroy the interview room was done out of spite instead of the urge to impress the instructors.

Whatever I accomplished here would only reflect on my father: Of course Suou is awesome! She's Aizen-taichō's daughter, remember?

Tch.

~$uou~

The weekend couldn't have come quickly enough. I was looking forward to the reprieve of getting out of campus grounds – students who actually have a home to return to are free to return during the weekends – and visit Retsu-san.

Ikebana still wasn't my most favorite thing to do but Retsu-san's company was one of my favorites. She taught me the various types of herbs and how to recognize them though I was a bit slow to pick things up. I was more proficient in the violent aspects of the Shinigami arts than what she actively promoted in her squad.

Why was I so eager to leave?

Well, clearly everyone in school already knew how I blew up the interview. It painted me as a rebel. There were a lot of rumors going on – having a famous dad did that to you, put pressure on you I mean – and the teachers were pretty wary of me.

I regretted acting rashly.

My father didn't reprimand me because he most likely knew I'd regret it.

We both knew I didn't like attention. Aizen probably thought I was shy due to the years of isolation from souls such as myself. My reasoning was because how I'd be targeted. If Aizen was defeated – and he would, unless I killed Ichigo as soon as I could go to the Human World – what would happen to me for conspiring with him? I did not look forward to spending the rest of my life in prison with him.

I'd be driven insane – so many thousand years underground and enshrouded in darkness. Thinking about it made me go weak-kneed.

… Was I thinking too far into the future? Maybe.

After all, I had homework to do and classes to pay attention in.

If I made an appeal to the headmaster – or get my father or Tōsen – to write a letter of recommendation, I could probably skip a few grades but graduating didn't seem appealing to me either. Retsu-san's words made me think very carefully.

A life of eternal servitude. If you chose to retire, into the Maggot's Nest you go.

"What's with the heavy sigh, Su-tan?"

I cringed out of habit from the hideous nickname I'd been saddled with. Only someone could make my skin crawl by simply speaking: Uncle Gin. I bit back a grimace – it wouldn't do me any favors to let him know he'd successfully intimidated me – and turned to nod politely at him.

"It's nothing," I assured him, quickening my pace to the 4th Division. I was still dressed in my Academy uniform and it probably made me stand out – I had, however, gotten quite used to the staring and whispering.

"How's school?" Gin asked, loping after me, falling into step with me, an arm thrown over my shoulder.

I had a petite build and my head barely brushed his hipbone. He was that tall. "Not bad," I answered quickly, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. In the general vicinity of so many people, I doubted he would actually harm me but Gin's unpredictability was what unnerved me. I had to bring up Gin's loyalty with my father someday.

"Made any friends?" he persisted.

"… No. The girls and I have nothing in common to talk about; the boys don't approach me." Most likely because of how young I looked. My body was somewhere between the ages of nine to ten, the others were significantly older and taller. They didn't respect my maturity and thought I'd only gotten in due to my father's influence over the whole school.

Furthermore, animosity was raging when I could beat older kids in spars.

Gin hummed. "Must've been 'ery lone'y"

"I'm used to it."

"Eh?" he drawled. "Su-tan, ya make us 'ound 'ike we dun' take 'ood care of ya."

"There's no one my age," I reasoned. "That what makes me feel isolated."

Gin patted his chest then he ruffled my hair roughly – not out of fondness, he just wanted to mess with me. "Unc'e Gin knows who ter' brin' ya ter'."

"Can it wait? I want to see Retsu-san – Unohana-taichō."

Gin's lips curved even higher. "'eah, 'ave fun wit' 'er – girl time, so preci'os." He cackled.

… Even after years of knowing him, he still crept me out. No matter. All I cared was that he had already Shunpo'ed off and I was getting closer to the 4th Division's barracks.

Retsu-san – I smiled.

~$uou~

There were four seasons in Soul Society. Well, if Soul Society was based off ancient Japan, I shouldn't be surprised to realize it the first time. Japan did have four seasons after all. Japan's spring had been interpreted into Seireitei. The one thing I could agree with the girls in my class was the beauty of the sakura trees – even though the best view would've been in the Kuchiki grounds.

"Aizen-san!"

"Un?" I turned to see who had addressed me, absentmindedly brushing off the petals that had drifted onto my head. I, like many of the students, had came out to have lunch beneath the sakura trees even though I was self-conscious about having no one else to sit with.

The students here were divided: the nobility and those from the Rukongai. The former group scorned me because of how I was, technically, a Rukongai-born as was my father, no matter how popular he was. Either that or they thought I was too kiddy to be associated with – this was an opinion shared with the majority of the Rukongai students. Also, they were under the misconception I was snobbish.

That and I had a room all to myself. No thanks to Aizen: "My daughter's young, very young – I fear she might be hazed by older students. So, a favor if I may…"

Yeah right, this special treatment only served to up the hazing. While I knew Aizen wouldn't physically threaten my life, he wasn't above to deteriorating my mental health and general opinion of others. If I had no friends, I wouldn't have been influenced by them, essentially leaving me loyal only to Aizen and his goals.

Rather than not wanting to have friends, I can't have friends.

Even if by some off-chance I did make friends, I knew I'd treasure them which would only lead Aizen to somehow take them away – pull strings, send Hollows, get them killed. I didn't dare risk it. Disobeying Aizen was a big no-no.

I'd turned my nose up at the last person who'd wanted to make friends.

So, it came as a surprise that anyone would address me. I blinked at the taller student, needing to crane my neck to look up at him. His reason for approaching me was clear not a moment too soon: "Katsuie-sensei was asking for you."

"Thank you."

That left me one thing to ponder about … what did my homeroom teacher want with me?

I gathered reishi beneath my feet and flash-stepped. The novelty of it had worn out – as had the frustration at slamming into walls, trees and face-planting on the ground – but it always thrilled me. I loved running around but had refrained from doing such ever since I joined the Academy, in case I came off as a lunatic.

I knocked on the faculty room – Retsu-san had said always to be polite – and I slipped in. I located Katsuie-sensei very quickly, if only because of his crazy, rainbow-colored Mohawk. I always felt the strange urge to snort when I saw him – his hairstyle did not suit his gray beard and thick full-moon glasses.

"You summoned me, Katsuie-sensei?" I prompted, popping up beside his desk. He was grading papers – definitely not my class's papers.

Katsuie looked up, adjusting his glasses and squinting through them. "Ah, Aizen. I did summon you." He nodded. "Do you find classes to your liking?"

Who cared if a student liked the class? All that mattered was that they learned something. Figuring this was another case of favoritism – since it was in my favor, I did not criticize the teachers – I nodded. "Is it dull?" Katsuie wondered.

My eyelid twitched – a sure sign I was about to lie, I was lying or I had lied. "No."

Katsuie smiled down at me like a doting uncle seeing his favorite, precocious niece. "You are rather advanced in comparison to your classmates, don't lie."

"Well," I began, trying not to offend, "I've been learning every since I could walk. It's to be expected."

Katsuie hummed in acknowledgement. "See? What's so hard about telling the truth?" I plastered on an abashed smile and pinkened cheeks – I still wasn't seeing the point of this conversation. "As you've clearly went through all that was taught – or will be taught – how about graduating altogether?"

"You're kicking me out?"

Katsuie snorted softly. "After graduation comes the rank of a Shinigami. There's a test at the end of this week. I've signed you up for it along with this year's graduating class. Classroom 107, Aizen, and remember – punctuality is key to getting into your superiors' good graces."

And he winked like it was a smart joke.

~$uou~

I had trouble sleeping.

No, it wasn't because of how dark, how lonely being in a room by myself was. I doubt there were ghosts to worry about—technically, I was one. What kept me wide awake was the awareness of what I'd done: I'd flunked the graduation exam.

Katsuie had looked shocked. He'd pulled me aside and demanded an explanation for passing up blank test papers.

I couldn't explain it to him. He wouldn't understand my reluctance to go into service for the Gotei 13. It was like slaving away until how many decades more before Aizen finally unveiled his plot. I estimated decades because Hirako was no longer a captain and Aizen was.

Such a pointless existence… why must I subject myself to it?

Great, now I sounded like the Espada of Emo, Ulquiorra.

I was sure my father would want to have a word with me—and so would Retsu-san. The woman had a motherly role in my life that I had to admit, I needed it. She gave me genuine comfort when I needed it. I was technically an adult but in this world, I could've been a hundred years old and I'd still be counted as a ten-year-old. It was humbling to realize, even with two lives under my belt, there were thousands of citizens here with centuries of experience and wisdom ahead of me. I felt young and exactly my age when I stood and talked to them.

Retsu-san had high expectations of me. Aizen probably expected a whole lot more from me. Yet, I'd followed my impulsive heart and flunked out of spite. I can't say I regret doing that if it meant more less-stressful halcyon days for me.

Maybe I should explain to Retsu-san why I did it… and see if my father was angry with me … I couldn't recall a time I had pissed him off the point of being punished. I might as well find out now. And … I sorta miss him.

There, I admitted it. I was in a glum mood because I wasn't used to not seeing him on a daily basis—be it in reality or it was an illusion borne of Kyōka Suigetsu. I was angry: his brainwash was working very well. I depended on him and I wasn't doing anything to stop myself.

I sulked—skulked—out of the campus.

It was technically against the rules to be leaving without permission, especially since it wasn't a weekend. But I got into the official division buildings no problem. There were guard patrols but I was swifter and sneakier than they were, slipping through their guards though guards from Division 2 had always been a pain to deal with—they weren't the fastest squad for nothing.

The 4th Division wasn't that far from the 5th Division and since I came from the east, the 4th Division barracks was closer to reach.

My reservations grew when I came closer to where Retsu-san would be resting. It was a little over midnight, would she appreciate me popping up?

… Maybe I should—

"Suou-chan?"

I stiffened from where I perched on the roof. I sidled over to the edge, peering down to see the porch: Retsu-san was sitting seiza style, admiring the moon or something, and I hadn't noticed! I spared a moment to be awed by her before swinging down to join her, feeling mildly apprehensive.

"I heard about what happened," Retsu-san began calmly. She was smiling, eyes closed, lips closed—I nearly pissed my pants in fear. "You failed your graduation test—on purpose. Care to elaborate?" It was not a question: it was an order I was expected to obey.

I wanted to be tight-lipped about it but with Retsu-san, it was impossible to say no. Feeling distinctly awkward – as I was not used to expressing myself, verbally at that – I tried my best to convey my worries anyway. Retsu-san's smile diminished to be replaced by a thoughtful look of serenity. "I suppose a child such as yourself expect more of the world other than working and shouldering a responsibility such as balancing the dimensions."

"I just thought – I think – there's got to be more than my life to this." At least Retsu-san didn't seem angry anymore. It was hard to tell with her but the intimidation behind her smile was missing. "Why did you become a Shinigami – if I may know?" I tagged on the last part quickly, hesitantly – was I overstepping my boundaries?

"Becoming a Shinigami was the only way for me to find more in life – so to speak," Retsu-san, unexpectedly, answered readily. "Were you imagining something else?"

"The Human World," I revealed longingly. I know, I know – it was too much to hope that my old family, my previous life, were within reach but I wanted to try. Karakura Town was the only place shown in Bleach. Were there other countries and cities? The number of inhabitants in Soul Society was nothing compared to the true number of how many people inhabited the living world. It got me curious.

Retsu-san chuckled. "Curiosity. I know that feeling – the thirst for more and more to fulfill the emptiness inside." Her eyelids fluttered, as opposed to how my eyes had widened. I knew a bit of her bloody past and how she was the first Kenpachi but to imply it so openly? "Come closer, Suou." I did, coming to sit beside her. Her palm cupped my cheek. She reopened her eyes – as if seeing me in a new light – and the blue of her eyes ignited a fiery longing within me. This tranquility wouldn't last and her imminent death, my inevitable desertion – it struck me our time was limited. If all else fails, I want to save her. "So precious, Suou-chan."

I blushed.

"You should do what you feel inclined to, Suou."

"Er, really?"

"Just remember that if you're hurt, you can always come back – I'll patch you up until you're good as new again."

I smiled. "Okay."

~$uou~

Retsu-san offered me a place to stay the night in her division but it made me recall I still haven't seen my father yet. With Aizen, I had figured that if I let something dangle, it'd just give him more time to be creative about whatever mental torture he had in store for me.

Besides, I wanted to fulfill a part of my curiosity.

Did Aizen ever sleep? If so, did he sleep on his back? I got this absurd notion that he slept standing or sitting, so that no one else would ever be higher than he was.

… Ridiculous? Yeah, but totally Aizen.

I knew my father's quarters well enough. There were no guards patrolling the area – Aizen must've been very confident in his own safety – and I slid the shōji doors to his room without hindrance. I could sense the mild pressure of his ever-present reiatsu – fortunately for me, giving me an idea of his location, as the room was darkened.

"… Suou?"

"Dad," I let him know it was me.

Do what you feel inclined to.

I want to see reactions. I want to know my father. I want to see what I was to him – a toy? An experiment? Where had it begun? Why did I exist? What can I do for you? How can I help you from that hell you're about to set up for yourself? Why did you even want the throne in the sky?

"You're getting awfully clingy," Aizen's self-control was so immaculate that he didn't even stiffen when I sidled beneath the covers and curled around his back, "Suou," he said my name as if he wanted to remind himself – and me – of who I was and what sort of personality I actually had.

"I missed you," I said with no little amount of melodrama. I added a sigh to up the effect of my longing.

There was the sound of him exhaling – or snorting. "Flunking for my attention?"

"In a way," I mumbled vaguely, curling my fingers in the fabric of his yukata. Aizen was like a freaking heater – he was warm and I wondered if it was because of his vast reiryoku, because there was no way his big, golden heart did that. "I didn't feel like becoming a Shinigami so soon. Once I start, I'd die a Shinigami."

"Too inglorious for you?" Aizen asked, sounding amused.

"Pointless," I offered.

"You do know that if you'd served the Gotei 13 for five centuries, you can officially retire? Without being thrown into Maggot's Nest."

I was pleasantly surprised by this bit of information. "Really?" That was daunting. "Five centuries … that's so long. Are you even that old?"

"Yes, it's the truth; no, but I'm reaching that age." He chortled in dark amusement. "Suou, drawing out your graduation is only going to be a setback. Your years in the Academy are not counted."

Damn.

"I'll definitely pass the next time," I mumbled, starting to get drowsy. The night had been cold and here my father was, warm and not being particularly … mean. "Def… initely…"

I was asleep before I even realized it.

~$uou~

Author's Corner: First things first: sorry for the late update. I can't seem to keep up a regular update schedule since life's pretty demanding – and FF is my only reprieve. TnT

I've covered a bit of character and relationship development - Suou's a bit bratty, eh, well, we're afraid of growing up and shouldering adult responsibilities at one point.

At any rate, anyone curious about what Unohana and Aizen were thinking when they were interacting with Suou? Review and you'll get a special omake for it through PM – thanks for the idea, GaleSynch! :)

Next chapter: expect the manifestation of her Zanpakutō.

Q: Would you like to see Suou in her father's division or under someone else?

Read & Review

:)