The Servant of the Fallen Angel

Summary: Aizen, years ago, began his prototypes of Arrancar. However, what he didn't realize was that the most powerful was never made with the Hougyoku. When Gin gets his hands on her, Aizen is too blinded by his own love to notice the growth of power.

Disclaimer: Arashi is owned by my good friend NiteVenom. She was gracious enough to let me use her since I loved the character so much. Also, I do not own BLEACH. That is Tite Kubo's. Okay, I do own Aizen, Gin, and Tou---CRAP, IT'S THE FEDS! Officers, I was kidding. I own nothing but my own characters!

A/N:

So, been a while, huh? Well, I got a random inspiration. After all, there isn't much that I could do for just the heck of it. Therefore, I went around reading fanfics a LONG time ago and discovered Arashi. Therefore, I asked to use her. However, it really sucked. I got the chapter done TWICE and my computer crashed. Therefore, I am trying once more.

Chapter 1

Darkest Guardian

"What I possess as if far off I'm seeing and what has vanished now comes into being…"

--Faust (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe)

A vision of purity crouched on a roof in the Soul Society. She was given a simple—then again, she hadn't completed it, so it might not be so simple—charge for today. Her dark gray eyes—the darkest color on her body other than the black trim on her jacket and the black tabi—scanned the many Shinigami rushing around. There was no steel gray hair. Shaking her head, she ran a pale hand through her silver hair. Her eyes searched. What were the features she was searching for? Ah, yes, a mental picture came into her mind. The figure of white lifted herself up to her full height and closed her eyes, searching for the reiatsu she needed to find. Soon, she did. Squad 11 barracks? She could get there. With a flash of Sonido, she was soon on the window sill, peeking in through the carelessly open window. Perhaps her target was still depressed over her lord's betrayal. That would make the mission a world easier. She stepped in, foot finding the wooden floor without difficulty. "Who are you?" A girl asked, sitting on the bed. She had her zanpakutou sitting on the bed next to her, and seemed ready to attack if needed. The arrancar looked at the girl, facing her fully.

"I am Mija Padmilla, Arrancar 13. I am here on a mission to take you to Hueco Mundo." Mija Padmilla looked at the girl dully. She was just as expressionless. She took her zanpakutou from its sheath, Mija staying still. Her hands were limply at her sides as she stood straight with pride. "You are Arashi Tanaka of Squad 11. You are my target to take back alive."

"And why would your master want me alive?" Arashi asked heatedly, brushing steel gray hair from her face and adding the curls to the ones behind it. She was getting up, taking a stance. Her green-gray eyes burned with defiance, and below that, pain. Mija stared at her blankly, making no move for the sword strapped to her back. Arashi brandished the sword skillfully. "Well?"

"It is not for me to question. My place is to bring you to him. Your place is to arrive there without too much trouble. It is apparent to me that the latter will be impossible, so I will have to keep you as uninjured as possible," Mija said monotonously. Arashi snorted.

"If you're an arrancar, how did you get in here?"

"That is not for you to know."

"Arrancar. I've heard about your kind before. You never really last long because your power turns back on you. You just rip off your masks to get the power you want."

"I've been around for three years. Will you put down the sword before I have to hurt you?"

"As if you—" Before she could finish the statement, Arashi viewed the arrancar nearly disappear. From the corner of her eyes, she saw a flutter of the white jacket before a sharp pain was on the back of her head, knocking her out soundly. Just before the black edging her vision completely closed in, Arashi was aware of being picked up, not too gently.

Mija made sure that Arashi was still breathing. After all, the hit to the young shinigami's head had made her bleed. That wasn't good, was it? She picked the shinigami up carefully. A soft ripping sound was evident behind her. Without looking back, Mija stepped into the Garganta. It pieced itself back together and Mija suffered a few minutes in the odd floating of the spot between worlds. It was useful for in the case of followers. They would be unable to escape without help, and that would put them where Aizen wanted them. Black, purples, reds all blended and merged around her, moving constantly. Just as the feeling became annoying, the other end opened into Aizen's throne room. It was a large room of white, and the sight was familiar to all intelligent (Grimmjow being the only exception) inhabitants of Hueco Mundo.

Bowing lowly and carefully to her lord (dropping Arashi would be a bad idea), Mija set Arashi on the ground. Aizen was looking at her seriously, and Mija could feel his eyes boring holes into her soul. She rose to her full height, but did not look up at Aizen. Instead, she looked at the man sitting on the arm of his throne. The silver-haired fox was, as usual, grinning at her. He nodded slightly, telling her that the mission was completed. Her ears picked up on Aizen speaking. "Mija, you must be tired. After all, you have been on seven missions straight. Gin, escort her to her room. Kanamei, place Arashi in my room and lock the door before you leave." The blind man moved first—or rather, walked down the stairs on the side first—and picked up the shinigami. He knew what was required, and the first thing he needed to do was send her to Szayel Aporro Granz. Szayel, the eighth Espada, to get her clothes and to make sure she hadn't gotten a concussion. Mija was notorious for her hard hits on the head.

However, the silver fox was having trouble. He had crossed his legs and—in the process of moving them—had fallen off the arm of the throne. Mija watched him silently, and Aizen watched him with both an expression of weariness and amusement at once. Gin lay on the ground, feet still on the arm of Aizen's throne. His mouth was open in the silent yelp that had escaped him. His arms were flailed awkwardly on either side of him. Aizen leaned to the left, away from the fox, and placed his elbow on the arm of the throne so that he could rest his cheek on his knuckles. He gazed at Mija boredly. "Mija, be a good girl and get me some tea as we wait for Gin to awaken." Mija bowed with a graceful flourish of one arm and swept out of the room to obey the command. She walked swiftly to the kitchens, avoiding the presence of Grimmjow as she passed a hall. She didn't need to have to beat the kitty up today.

Equipped with a silver tea service, Mija made her way back to the throne room, where Gin was sitting up on the dais and rubbing his head. He waved at Mija as she ascended the steps to set the tray on the free arm of his throne. Thankfully, the arm was wide enough that she could then pout the tea and offer it to him with a bow. Aizen rested a hand on Mija's head affectionately and waved her off. She looked to Gin, who was approaching quickly. He placed a hand on the small of her back, pushing her firmly to the stairs and then out the door. She matched his pace with ease, glancing at him. She only came up to his shoulder, so he was looking down at her with slanted eyes and a wide grin. Mija was used to this, of course. No matter how many declared him to be creepy, she would never be able to think this. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her from her thoughts. "Why're yo' starin'?" He drawled.

"Ichimaru-Sama—"

"Gin."

"Gin-Sama, I was thinking."

"'Eh? Bou' wha'?"

"Nothing important, sir."

"Mm. Mija-Chan, d'ya' like me?"

"Pardon, what?"

"D'ya like me?"

"I suppose. I have no choice but to."

"Nah. Yo' can hate me if yo' want."

"Right." Mija was quiet, successfully holding back a blush as he leaned closer to her. Her eyes were half-open, and she seemed ready to sleep. Arrancar didn't sleep unless necessary, but this didn't stop Mija from the occasional nap (nor did it stop Stark from the frequent nap, but that case didn't count). Gin tilted his head at her, gaze traveling over her body. Her uniform was showy, which he appreciated quite a bit. Her skin was very pale, probably from the lack of sunlight. The sunlight in Hueco Mundo was nonexistent, as the world was cast into eternal night. She wore a white tube top, along with a white jacket that appeared to be too large for her. The sleeves went to her shins, and the bottom of the jacket was just above the floor. It had black hems. She wore white hakama with a black obi, and her tabi were also black. Her sandals were silver instead of the gold of straw. A white strap crossed her front, and attached to it was her white zanpakutou. Her neck was adorned with white beads and a white cross hung from the beads. That was what he knew to be the remains of her hollow mask. Her eyes were dark gray and expressionless. She had learned of Aizen's abilities to detect emotion through the eyes, apparently, and learned to keep that controlled. Her hair was silver, and it fell to her waist freely in waves. It seemed neat and clean, so Gin experimentally sniffed. Evidently, she bathed often as her hair had a somewhat fruity smell. He tilted his head again and looked at her right hand. The silver outline of a circular scar, along with the faint outline of the number 1 signified that she had been the original Primera Espada. But that didn't matter to her anymore, he knew. Before he knew it, they were at Mija's room. He stopped, and Mija stopped with him. They gazed at the door, Gin with annoyance and Mija with no expression at all. Gin looked down at her again. "Mija-Chan, why dun yo' put yo' heels on the flo'?" He asked. Mija glanced down, where her heels didn't touch the ground. But only just above the floor. She looked at Gin. "It helps my balance, sir."

"Ah. Righ'. Well, I've gotta go back ta Aizen-Sama. Rest up. G'nigh~!" Gin sang before he half-skipped back to the throne room. Mija watched him go, feeling something tugging towards depression at her heart. She shook her head, hand slipping to her abdomen where the hole was. Arrancar have no heart. Arrancar can feel nothing. Do not worry yourself with a petty thought that you're in love.

Arashi slowly drifted to the top of her consciousness. Her curled hair was a slight mess, but she didn't care much. Her cream skin stood out against the crimson-colored sheets of a comfortable bed, but she didn't notice. Her eyes were still closed. She nuzzled her cheek against the bed and inhaled. Something was wrong…The bed smelled like musk and pinewood, and it felt weird. She had cotton sheets, and this felt like silk. It was also a lot larger than she remembered. She rolled onto her back—as she had been dropped onto her stomach—and opened her eyes. The ceiling, which was a cream color, was the same as the one that she had back at the Soul Society. Same with the walls, but the floor was an odd cream instead of the cherry wood that she was used to. A few seconds ticked by as she sat up to survey the room. From a skylight, the crescent moon was visible and the silver light streamed in. It was night? How long had she been unconscious? Shaking her head slowly, she resumed looking around. The bed she was on was sunken into a slight dais. It was circular with a shelf that served as the headboard—there were several books in the shelves, most complicated books on psychology and no fiction whatsoever—and a simple footboard. All of the linens were crimson, and the wood was all dark. In the dresser, the shelf, the wardrobe, the closet door, the table…Any upholstery was crimson, which made a rather chilling effect. It was like blood on skin, the way that the room was set up! She looked down at herself and paled slightly.

Instead of her shinigami robes, she wore a thin gown. Lightly blushing, she ducked under the blanket. Who had changed her? She tried to recall where she was, and suddenly it hit her. She had been resisting capture from an arrancar in her room, and she was knocked out. Maybe that girl changed her? Then where was she? An ornate prison? Some man's room? It wasn't going to be easy to figure out, she knew, but she could easily swear she would. She got up to her feet, smoothing the bed back to normal—not that she really needed to—before walking over to the door. She tried the handle and cursed. It was locked. Immediately, she flung herself on the bed. Then panic filled her. Where was her zanpakutou?! She looked around wildly and sighed. Her captor wouldn't be dumb enough to leave it with her. She shook her head and sank back into sleep. Could she do anything else? It was doubtful.

The shy blonde arrancar made her way down the hall. It was almost deserted. Except for the occasional servant, she was alone. Her blonde hair hung in front of her eyes, the rest on her shoulders. Her brown eyes were concealed behind glasses with a bit of a glare. The remnants of her hollow mask was all across her forehead, red marking of the moon right under the single spine. Her outfit wasn't overly revealing. It was a white version of the shinigami robes, oddly. Most tried to keep it as far from the uniform as possible, but not her. Her red zanpakutou was slipped into the second loop of her obi. It was very long, so it was wrapped around her thin waist five times. She was rather small with a mildly generous chest. Her name was Sato Zulima, which meant "Sugar Crystal." It was a bit suitable for her, as she was so shy, but it never mattered.

As her eyes were on the floor, Sato didn't notice that she was approaching the arrancar that had been in her thoughts a lot. From faint interest, he had stopped and looked at her. She bumped into him—quite literally—and looked up, blushing darkly. She bowed low. "I'm sorry, Ulquiorra-Sama!" She squeaked. The green-eyed espada looked down at her. "You are…" Sato was slightly hopeful that he knew her name. "…Trash." With that, he swept down the hallway. The arrancar stared after him sadly, frowning as she sulked the rest of the way back to her room.

In the Soul Society, the chosen replacement for Squad 3 Captain was standing in the room of a Squad 11 member. Squad 3 was in charge of internal investigations, as annoying as that was. Big things didn't happen often, so she was mostly stuck doing paperwork. She was rather chubby, but she was athletic when she needed to be. Her uniform was, for the most part, normal. She had her zanpakutou in her obi, of course. That was, after all, a classic. She wore bronze glasses with an ornate design of sakura on the sides. Of course, that was difficult to see as the glasses were well-worn. She would need a prescription soon, by all likeliness. Around her neck on a silver chain was a blue seahorse pendant. It was made by her twin sister, which many didn't know. How would they? Her twin was dead, after all. Her dark brown hair fell into her face, as it was chin-length. Shaking her head, she closed her hazel eyes.

"Yumichika, please calm down. Tell me what happened in detail," she said calmly, voice as soothing as possible. Yumichika had been panicked when he found her and pulled her along. However, this seemed serious so she followed. Her gaze turned to him as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

"She's never up before me. I normally wake her up so we can get ready for the day to sneak paperwork before we spend our time sparring, Ma'am. When I walked in, she wasn't here. I checked all over, and there's no sign of her or her reiatsu. She went missing, and she's not in the Soul Society!" By the end of his monologue, she had turned away so as to not see his hands emphasizing points of his speech while studying the room again. That was when she felt it. She passed a hand around the room and stopped where there seemed to be a rip in the atmosphere. "Yumichika, if you had been ten seconds later, she would have been declared dead." She looked at him as her awareness of it faded. "It seems like some sort of hollow came in and took her. After all, the rip in the atmosphere here is similar to what I have sensed on hollow missions in the Transient Realm. Therefore, it seems as though you friend has been taken to Hueco Mundo. What's curious is that there are no signs of a struggle…" This threw her off. She shook her head. "I shall inform Yamamoto-Soutaichou immediately. Be ready to tell him what you know and your procedures." Yumichika nodded slightly as the new captain passed. Her hair was flipping out, which was a measure of her concern. Oddly, when she was concerned about something, her hair began flipping out to the sides. What had her so concerned?

Aizen looked out the window. It was still day in the Transient Realm and the Soul Society. How did he know? The moon was a few degrees brighter than when shared by the three realms. His chocolate eyes smoldered with content. He had Arashi locked in his quarters. Szayel had locked away her zanpakutou. She was most likely in a thin sleeping gown…It was all that he wanted at the moment. Why did he want Arashi? It was simply that, in the Soul Society, she had caught his interest. He smirked slightly as he sipped his tea. No one was here to bother him. That was always a good thing. If everything went according to plan, he could get Arashi on his side again. His thoughts turned to his entire ambition for the world. He frowned slightly.

Yes, he would be God. He was quite certain of it, actually. All that remained was the destruction of the Soul Society, the awakening of the Hougyoku, and the gain of the King's Key. That was all he needed, and most were standing in his way to keep him from it. No matter. They would be taken care of soon enough. He looked at his reflection in the cup, smirking again. Mija really did make tea that he could think over. She seemed to notice that quality, his love of thinking. Again, he frowned. She was sharp. What else did she notice? Flaws that she dare not voice? Weaknesses? Improvements to his plans? It would be so much simpler to gain her insight if she was back in the Espada…However, she wasn't as she was too weak. Well, he hadn't really checked. But he was sure that she was weak. After all, she wasn't made by the Hougyoku. He looked at the sky again and finished the last sip of his tea. He set it on the tea service for a servant to collect later. A flap of his long jacket and he was on his way down the hall to go to his room.

Partly down the hallway, a grinning fox blocked his path innocently. "Aizen-Sama, whatcha doin'? Yo' seem ta be in a hurry."

"Not at all, Gin. What is it?"

"I wanted ta know if I can 'ave Mija when she's not on a mission."

"You wish for me to make her your slave?"

"Hai~!" Gin sang. Aizen appeared to ponder over it for a moment, looking at the man who was about his height, maybe a centimeter off. He sighed slightly. "Very well, Gin. You may have her. Just be careful. If she dies, you get no more pets." Gin squealed with happiness. He was rather happy that his plan had worked out well. He would have Mija all to himself soon. Aizen sighed at the man bounced down the hall. Shaking his head, he paused. He attempted to regain his composure.

Arashi had slept at least an hour before she heard sounds like the door handle being rattled. She blinked a few times, sitting up and looking at the door. The unmistakable click of a door unlocking sounded and Arashi felt her heart beginning to race. Who was coming in? She looked carefully and flinched back as the door opened, revealing who was on the other side.

A/N: 3, 498 words of story text. If anyone can guess who's coming in, they get a gift. Read and review!