“If you forget others because you have power, and become arrogant and egotistical, you’ll eventually become just like Madara.” — Itachi Uchiha.
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What is right and wrong? How do you see this concept, and how do you expect others to see it?
It was a very confusing yet profound question, and that was what Aizen had asked Itachi when the latter finally confronted him.
“At the end of those grandiose words, what you seek is simply power. Not understanding, lesser reasoning – just power.”
His fellow Lieutenant laughed listlessly, his posture the epitome of calm and confident, before regarding Itachi with slightly droopy eyes.
“We are more alike than you would care to admit. A fact that I find both repulsive and happy for.” Aizen started, sending down a brief glance at his sword sheathed to his waist. “Even the nature of our Zanpakutō are similar. A coincidence? One of the many I’d reckon.”
“And rebelling? Where are the similarities there? Or is that where it conveniently ends?” Itachi couldn’t help but ask sarcastically.
Aizen looked at him with a particular knowing smile, one Itachi was slowly growing to hate.
“Wouldn’t you have done the same if you didn’t accept the bare compromise in the standards of the Shinigami? Unfortunately, that is where the similarities stop.” Aizen stated once again, his eyes no longer smiling as he spoke to Itachi.
“Where you accepted the compromise and lowered yourself to accept their ideals, I refused and questioned it. My inquisitive mind sought new answers to my unending questions. And that was how I exceeded the perceived limits of the Shinigami.”
From the little narration so far, Itachi could more or less tell where this conversation was heading. “And then you got drunk on power and sought even more. Slowly losing your morality and conscience with every consequent decision for the greed of more power.”
Aizen sighed in a manner that felt close to disappointment. “Do you know the curse those filled with great strength are afflicted with?”
“Loneliness.” Itachi answered but Aizen shook his head.
“Close, but not quite.” He remarked with wistful words. “Understanding. No one understands them, no one can. Not when everyone else stands below among the weaker crowd.”
Itachi tried, he really did, but he couldn’t for the life of him understand the perspective of Aizen’s words. “You are wrong, Aizen. Understanding comes from dialogue – a personal wish to be mutually aware of not just yourself but also those around you. Did you really seek out someone to understand you? Or did your intelligence deceive you that no one could?”
Without yet drawing their blades, they had engaged in battles of wit, perspective, duty and morals – two souls so very similar, yet so starkly different.
“Let’s leave it at that for now.” Aizen, after a moment of silence, took off his glasses and said. “So tell me, Itachi Uchiha, why have you come alone to confront me? That was— is your intent, right?” The glasses dissolved into dust particles.
Aizen smiled faintly when he saw Itachi remained silent.
“Your resolve is uncertain – wavering and accepting of compromise. It would be an insult to draw my blade for the likes of you.” The coldness in his words made it clear that he was no longer in the mood to converse.
Itachi knew, has always known – more than instinctively – that Aizen was not an opponent he could face alone. Yoruichi’s warnings aside, his experience, his wit, his guts and even the fast beating of his heart told him that he wasn’t Aizen’s equal. Even now, he had a problem fully sensing the fullness of the man’s Reiatsu.
Knowing and acknowledging your weakness and seeking strength from your allies – this was one of the principles Itachi had built himself on.
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“Let me guess; you’re stalling for Head Captain, or maybe even Isshin Shiba.” Aizen stated. It was an obvious ploy, of the easier ones he’d made perfect contingencies for.
Aizen was right, Itachi knew. All this he knew, YET the thrumming in his sword never stopped.
He was unsure, resolved and determined yet wavering in his decision because he knew it would be an answer to the question he’d never asked himself.
Right here right now, would he, Itachi Uchiha, willingly give up his life to protect the Soul Society?
‘… Just like I had easily given it up for the Leaf?’
Aizen watched the imperceptible fluctuations in Itachi’s Reiatsu with vivid bore and slowly lost all interest in the young man.
“Haah,” Itachi exhaled softly and gripped his sword tighter. “I know who I am…”
“Hoh?” Aizen tilted his head to harmlessly evade Itachi’s passing sword, and sidestepped to dodge the one that came from behind before disappearing to appear a few meters behind Itachi.
“Your illusions are impressive but ultimately futile.” A barrier appeared in front of him to block another sword strike from another Itachi that had suddenly appeared in front of him. “Illusions like these— hmm?”
His eyes glinted in interest as he saw Itachi’s blade slowly cut through the barrier.
“An interesting phenomenon, those black flames of yours.” He calmly remarked, even as the sword cut halfway through the barrier before Itachi suddenly exploded into black flames.
“How interesting indeed.” He said with slight fascination as he looked at the flames that quickly ate at the green glow that covered his hands.
He looked at Itachi with a renewed light in his eyes. “I had my suspicions, but it looks like I was right after all.”
A disappointed sigh escaped his lips as his hand went to the hilt of his sword. “This is what you wanted all along, is it not? Now gaze at it in its fullness.”
‘He’s fast… not impossible to follow, but still fast enough.’ Itachi’s eyes glowed furiously as he followed all of Aizen’s movements.
‘Tsukuyomi… I’m ready to accept it. My death was a waste, but my life wasn’t.’
‘Black Sea Conflagration.’
‘It was, wasn’t it?’ Spoken like the true mirror soul he was, his reply was questioned to strengthen Itachi’s decisions as truths. ‘So, are you ready yet? Reject it, deny it, accept it – each is a right choice, but is it right by you?’
The trees and rocks around them turned to black flickering flames while still holding their form – a territory base for Itachi to exert himself as best he could.
The same instant Itachi’s Black Sea came alive, because it was an instantaneous effect, Aizen released his Shikai for the first time to Itachi’s eyes.
“Shatter, Kyōka Suigetsu.”
No fanfare, no flutter of Reiatsu —no, even if there was, how could one truly know?
“Since you already know the ability of my Kyōka Suigetsu, tell me, how do you expect to see through it? When is it activated?–” Aizen asked with curious casualness as he gazed into Itachi’s eyes while stabbing him through the chest.
He was standing in the middle of the Black Sea, or rather hovering inches above it, not at all bothered when the flames wrapped around his limbs and quartered him.
Itachi brought a hand to his chest to heal it but on a second thought left it alone. The three tomoe in his eyes were slowly spinning as they tried to see through Aizen’s illusions.
“Perfect Hypnosis. Your eyes facilitate a more efficient use of all your abilities, mostly with illusions. I find it somewhat ironic that those exact abilities are the reason why you won’t ever be able to see through Kyōka Suigetsu’s hypnosis.” Aizen stated.
Those words would have been despairing for most in Itachi’s shoes because both he and his Zanpakutō spirits knew how truthful those words were, but Itachi was not most people. His eyes were not so simple. His Zanpakutō spirits were not most spirits. He had his pride as well.
“Then why haven’t you killed me yet? A strike is all it would take.” Itachi said.
He slashed his sword without moving an inch and suddenly the space between him and Aizen disappeared but it only ended with a cut to the latter’s cheek.
‘Demonic Illusion: Binding Snare.’
A dark red world took Aizen’s vision and he found himself in a precious position being held against flaming stakes, but all he did was smirk.
He looked down at Itachi and spoke casually. “Do you think any of this is real? Am I in the illusion, or are you trapped in your own illusion?”
Itachi emerged unscathed with a frown on his face as the stakes melted into his body but he didn’t slow down and attacked Aizen who calmly received him.
“You have learned nothing. You refuse to.”
Thrust. Parry. Feint slash. Block. Stab. Parry. Lunge. Parry. Sweep. Block.
Aizen without absolutely any difficulty, overwhelmed Itachi to the extent where the former Shinobi refrained from using any exoteric technique as the only one he hurt was himself.
His body was full of cuts and holes while Aizen remained unscathed.
“Just like every other Shinigami, you arrogantly strive for futility.” A voice said behind Itachi moments before pain wracked his body rigid.
“Hadō 78: Zangerin.”
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