Disclaimer & Introduction

Writing this was never my initial intention. In fact, it's sort of Rose's fault that I wrote it at all, though whether anything else will come of it I don't know. I'm not a particular fan of Aizen, but I've long been fixed on one thing that he said during his rebellion. That moment when he said that he tried to be himself but nobody understood the real him. Those words have stuck with me throughout the whole of the events that have followed and still they puzzle me now. And because of them, and because of Rose and the ideas I had surrounding his past, this story came to be.

If you have read Meifu's Gate's Prequel, you'll be familiar with the style I've chosen for this story, too. Instead of being a proper chaptered story, this is a collection of scenes from a possible childhood Aizen Sousuke may have experienced. We know very little about him, and what we do know may be somewhat illusionary in itself...making it hard to be certain of anything. But even so, I've tried to render him in as convincing a way as possible. It hasn't been my intention to excuse his later behaviour, nor to fully vilify him, either. Just to try and depict him in a way that makes sense to me.

Writing it has probably not made me any more a fan of Aizen overall, but trying to follow how he might think and how those thought processes might have come to be have made him all the more enigmatic, somehow, in my mind. That the lines between reality and fantasy have been blurred on many occasions - and may still remain blurred, right up to the final act.

As for the prophesy, it is somewhat explained but not fully explained in this story. People who have read Meifu's Gate will have some vague idea of the connection, but I've deliberately left this aspect of the story vague. Whether or not I'll elaborate on it at a future point I'm not sure...I guess we'll see.

Aizen Sousuke's actual history and character design is always the property of Kubo Tite and everything in this story may come to be contradicted in canon.

Mirror, Flower, Water, Moon
Aizen Sousuke's Prequel

"The end will begin with a brightness – a light will surround one who above all others will shine and give joy to those who encircle him. He will be loved, yet those who love will not understand him. Dragons are the prophets of the danger that lies ahead."
~The Black Prophesy

The hills stretched out before him, barren, looping peaks and valleys almost colliding into each other to form rolling hills and gaping chasms all around. In the heart of one, there was the faintest glint of light and then a roar as the dragon forced its scaly nose through into the daylight, snorting brimstone and letting out a challenging bellow as it raised its head into the air. Two grey puffs of smoke coloured the clear, crisp morning air, and the dragon-slayer clasped his fingers more tightly around the hilt of his weapon, a look of resolve in his pale brown eyes.

"Sousuke-sama! Sousuke-sama!"

The voice of his nurse broke the illusion, and the young boy turned, a frown on his features as he raised his head to meet her gaze.

"I was fighting." He said reproachfully, tapping his wooden stick against the ground as if to illustrate his point. "Now the dragon's got away. You scared him an' now I can't fight him an' win the whole battle."

"Sousuke-sama…" The young maidservant paused, then grinned, reaching across to tap him gently on the nose. "I'm sorry. But if the dragon's gone now, surely all the people are saved? You should be glad that the danger's over – and besides, it's almost time for your afternoon meal."

The child – a boy of no more than four years eyed her solemnly for a moment, then he sighed, shaking his head wearily.

"But I wanted to fight it, Keiko." He said sadly. "An' beat it an' win an' be the hero. Cos that's what happens in the stories…but now it's gone away an' I can't see where it is. So I can't fight any more…an' it's boring."

Keiko eyed him fondly, holding out her hand towards him.

"If I know you, you'll quickly find another one to fight with." She said gently, amusement in her dark eyes. "They're sneaky things, those dragons. They come back when you least expect it. So I'm sure you'll get to be the hero again later, Sousuke-sama. But right now your food will become cold – and then we'll all be scolded for keeping you out here too long."

Sousuke let out another heavy sigh, but saw that he was beaten, for he set aside the stick, reaching dusty fingers up to take Keiko's proffered hand. She didn't understand about the dragons or the monsters or any of the other strange creatures that inhabited the grounds of the Aizen manor, and she never had – but even at four, Sousuke had become used to this. He was the only one who could see them, and therefore he was the only one who could fight them. It was a long and endless war between him and these curious beings – a war that relied on him to be the hero and keep his home and his family safe.

But Keiko was just a nursemaid, and she didn't see them. Therefore she didn't understand. And Sousuke was fond of Keiko, even though she wasn't able to see the dragons.

Even at four years old, Sousuke understood that if he lingered now, Keiko would be the one who would be blamed. He had seen it once before, when he had insisted on crawling into an old tree trunk after a three headed serpent that had tried to escape from his justice, and had become stuck between the edges of the wood. The family's gardener had had to come with something sharp and dangerous – Sousuke still did not know what it was, but he felt sure it would be effective against the slithering snake-creatures that lived behind the pond on the east lawn – and had had to cut him free. He had been splintered and grimy and late back to the house – and although his father's chief retainer had taken Keiko out of the boy's sight, Sousuke had heard his yells and the sound of hand against skin, followed by her crying.

In Sousuke's mind, this retainer was an ogre, not a person – but when he'd told his father, the older man had simply laughed and patted him on the head, whilst his brother had overheard and had persisted in mocking him about it for a whole two weeks together. Sousuke did not like his brother much either – a heavy, overbearing youth four years his elder, who liked to cause him pain when neither of their parents were looking. But there was not much to be done about this either – so Sousuke had focused his energy on the things he could do. And that amounted to patrolling the house and grounds, taking care of any demons or strange beasts that might threaten the security of their home.

As they entered the nursery – although Sousuke didn't like that word, because it implied he was still a baby and he knew he was not – a second nurse was already beginning to lay out the small corner table for his afternoon meal. Sousuke ate all his meals here, alone except for the companionship of the servants that attended to him. His brother, at eight, now ate his meals with their parents in the main dining hall – a fact Sousuke fiercely resented, but when he had raised the point, Keiko had gently reminded him that he still had times when he dropped his chopsticks and used his fingers – and on odd occasions had stabbed at the balls of rice with the narrow wooden implements instead of eating with the neat elegance a young lord was expected to do. Sousuke had not been able to convince her that if he hadn't acted, the rice would have bitten his fingers – she had simply ruffled his hair affectionately and told him that finger-biting rice wasn't allowed in the main dining hall, and so he would have to continue eating here.

As he settled himself on his cushion, waiting impatiently for the maid in charge to pour his miso soup into its little ceramic bowl and lay out all of the necessary implements that even a four year old apparently needed to take his food, he heard voices coming from the next room. It was his parents, talking among themselves as they sat in the day parlour, and Sousuke was not really interested in listening – but then he heard his name, and despite himself, curiosity began to take hold.

"It seems that Sousuke's going to surpass all expectations if he continues at this rate." That was his father, a note of pride in the man's voice as he spoke about his son. "His tutor tells me that he's already beginning to pick up kanji and can even write his name, although he's only been taking lessons since the winter. A boy of four, Sayume. Yet there's no doubt. I've seen it for myself – how fast he's starting to read and write. It seems he has a photographic memory – he sees something once and then he remembers it as clearly as if he'd studied it for years."

"If only he'd apply all the time he spends dreaming up fantasy games to his studies, I'm sure he'd move ahead even more quickly." That was his mother. "You know, it's fine enough for a four year old to have an active imagination, but even so…"

"Ah, he's still young. He'll outgrow it. Kids do." His father was dismissive. "Besides, if he started to surpass his brother, that would look bad. He's gifted and clever enough – people might start seeing competition between the two. No, best leave him to have his games. They are harmless, after all – a boy's way of learning about the world around him."

"I suppose that's true." His mother acknowledged. "You're right. Children's games are children's games. It's just disconcerting sometimes when he looks at you with such serious eyes and tells you that he's going to kill the nue in the arbour and that I should stay well back until he's defeated it. I'm really not sure how to respond to it – Junsuke was never like that."

"All children are different." His father reflected. "We have a bright, healthy boy who's learning fast…we have much to be grateful for. After all…"

There was a pause here, and Sousuke was startled back to the present by the sudden clatter of a dish against his tray. He glanced around him, half expecting it to be the work of a sneaky kitsune, but it was just the maid finishing in the laying out of his food, and at his startled glance she smiled apologetically, bowing her head and then withdrawing from his side. Cautiously Sousuke picked up his chopsticks, making one more examination of the scene for any sign of a malingering mischief-maker, but his father's next words made him stop.

"After all, when he was born, they were worried about the portents he carried." The man said, his tones suddenly more serious than Sousuke had ever heard him before. "I've never believed in superstition, but…in this case…"

"A baby born into this family with spirit power is normally a case for concern, not joy." His mother spoke sadly, and Sousuke was surprised to hear it, for he had only ever heard that note in her voice when his grandmother had died six months earlier and they had all worn black to bury her in the family vault. "In this day and age, sealing such power is no longer as easy or as acceptable as it was in generations gone by – but even so, when they first told us…"

"What Sousuke doesn't know doesn't need to hurt him." His father spoke as though trying to convince himself as much as he was his wife. "He's strong, healthy, happy – if overly imaginitive at times. He's shown no signs of anything troublesome. If you listened to the family hysteria, you'd think the world was coming to an end…but no animals have died, no people have fallen sick – I almost wonder if we've been too fearful of an ancient superstition and its time we left that past prejudice behind. Now it's not uncommon for a child to have spirit power and yet go on to be accepted and loved. And there's no need to even talk about it. Sousuke is Sousuke – our son and that is all. What he doesn't need to know we won't tell him. That way he'll never learn to use it…and no harm can ever come of it."

"You're right." His mother sounded relieved. "Sousuke is Sousuke. He's our son and there's no need to see him as anything else. He's a normal, healthy four year old and that's all that counts. There's no need for us to worry. Everything's fine."