Chapter 174: I Killed Him
"…Am I not Sosuke Aizen?"
In this run down park, washed in the slanting red of sunset, Aizen's expression turned briefly blank, almost puzzled.
"Is it that, to you, I am not Sosuke Aizen? Or that I was never Sosuke Aizen to begin with? Or that my life only truly began the moment I became certain of myself?"
"That's hard to answer," Kisuke said, folding his fan with a soft snap. "There are plenty of strange cases like that. But you're definitely not the Sosuke Aizen we remember. That man wouldn't treat us like equals. He would only do things his way."
Kisuke's eyes narrowed beneath the brim of his striped hat.
"Your words also gave you away. You're dissatisfied with Aizen's actions. The Aizen we know does not reflect, and he does not regret, not until he tastes failure. So I'll ask again. Who are you? Some experiment Aizen made? Or something else, something even I can't pin down?"
Yoruichi's tail flicked once, her yellow eyes steady.
"If you want a real conversation," Kisuke continued, "then show sincerity, Mr. Aizen."
Silence.
No sudden clash. No explosive escalation.
That, in itself, was a difference. People like Kisuke Urahara and Yoruichi Shihouin had survived Seireitei, and the price of survival was caution. They still maintained certain channels back to Soul Society. They did not rush into judgment like reckless idealists, and they did not gamble lives for curiosity the way some researchers did.
So Kisuke found the crack quickly.
This man called himself Aizen, yet he had been friendly to Kurosaki's daughters. He had deliberately provoked Isshin into talking about ideals instead of simply crushing him with superiority. And now, with his flaws exposed, he did not sneer, did not condemn them as fools, did not speak from a cold height.
Instead, he lowered his head, and thought, like a researcher examining a result that did not match the hypothesis.
After a long moment, Aizen lifted his gaze. He smiled, gentle, almost apologetic.
"In a way… I am indeed no longer him. As much as I dislike admitting it, it is an objective fact."
He adjusted his glasses and looked from Kisuke to Isshin.
"A person's spirit changes as time and events pass. Yet I am still him, because what he experienced is also what I experienced."
He spoke calmly, as though explaining a simple principle.
"Compared to an immature self, someone who has lived longer will always appear different. Growth is overcoming what you once were. I believe that makes sense."
Then his smile sharpened, not cruel, but clear.
"So you may think of me as Sosuke Aizen. The difference is this, I am not the Sosuke Aizen who would stop at nothing to reach the Soul King Palace and overturn the world for the Hogyoku. I am simply Sosuke Aizen who found a new path, and who wants to find like minded partners."
The park fell quiet.
Not because he still insisted he was Aizen, but because of what he casually revealed. Kisuke and the others had long known Aizen pursued transcendence, yet hearing him state it so plainly, overthrow the Soul King, reshape the world, carried weight in a way speculation never did.
"…I'll admit," Kisuke said after a pause, voice lighter than his eyes, "this is the first time I've heard you admit ambitions like that."
"It is also the first time I've said it to anyone."
Aizen glanced around, still composed.
"And speaking of propriety, perhaps it is not ideal to discuss this in a children's park. Should we move somewhere more normal?"
Kisuke's fan opened again with a soft flutter.
"Oh? Then how about my shop? It doesn't look grand, but there's plenty of space inside. We can eat while we talk. Sound good?"
"Of course."
Aizen accepted without hesitation.
Kisuke did not miss it. Neither did Isshin.
The original Aizen would not have walked into the enemy's den on an invitation dressed up as dinner. He never gambled. He could be arrogant and unruly, but he never bet himself on uncertainty.
Yet this Aizen stepped forward as though it were natural, and that single choice loosened the tension in the air more than any argument could.
Isshin stood, baffled, and stared at him.
"Hey… are you really Aizen? If you were really Aizen, you wouldn't go along with Urahara's nonsense like this."
"An excuse?" Aizen replied mildly. "I see it as the first step toward mutual understanding."
Yoruichi sprang up to the wall and paced along it, tail swaying, only to slip the moment Aizen's tone turned almost conversational. She caught herself, landed, and shot him a sharp look.
Aizen only stroked his chin, calm as ever.
"I am not the same as I was. But I believe you are still the same people. For example, those you now call the Visored, are they still spending their days in that small warehouse under your guidance, Kisuke Urahara?"
Kisuke's smile held, but his eyes shifted.
"…Your information is more current than I expected, sir."
"It is nothing," Aizen said. "I simply know what I know."
Behind them, Isshin's face tightened like a man trying to do arithmetic with a concussion. He started counting on his fingers, then stopped, then started again, as though the numbers might eventually confess.
This afternoon had become absurd.
First, Aizen appeared and demanded to speak about Ichigo. Then, after a few exchanges, Isshin realized the man in front of him was not the Aizen he knew. Then the man claimed he was Aizen, but not that Aizen. Then he spoke as if he knew things Isshin did not even know existed.
For a moment, Isshin almost wished he could borrow Ishida Ryuken's brain.
Unfortunately, Quincy and Shinigami did not share spare parts.
The strange group, three men and one cat, slipped down an unremarkable street toward a quieter corner of Karakura Town.
Before long, a shabby shop came into view.
A red haired boy and a girl with black pigtails stood outside, bored out of their minds, while a tall dark skinned man with glasses checked inventory with methodical focus.
This was Urahara Shop, Kisuke's base in the human world, a storefront for things that should not exist under normal human rules.
The man with glasses turned at the shift of air, and immediately saw Aizen following behind Kisuke, smiling.
"Manager Urahara, alert."
"Oh, it's fine, it's fine," Kisuke said, waving his fan as though calming a startled pet. "He looks like Aizen, but he doesn't seem to be that Aizen. Don't be too tense."
The man froze.
Kisuke kept talking, cheerful on the surface, sharp underneath.
"He's not an enemy right now. Just a passerby with a slightly complicated situation. I can handle it. And if things go wrong, we still have Yoruichi and Kurosaki. It'll be fine."
"…Ah? Ah??"
Tessai Tsukabishi, once the captain of the Kidō Corps, now standing here as a shop assistant, felt his mind stutter.
He had seen the Hollowfication incident with his own eyes. He knew the real Aizen. He knew what Kyoka Suigetsu meant. Seeing a man who looked exactly the same, wore the same gentle smile, and stood in the same calm posture was like watching the past crawl back out of its grave.
Yet at the same time, Tessai could not deny Kisuke's logic. If Aizen wanted to kill them, he did not need dinner invitations. He would simply do it.
Aizen's gaze slid to Tessai, still polite.
"Captain of the Kidō Corps, do not worry," he said. "At least, I am not your enemy right now. If you have questions, I will answer them one by one, when I truly become your enemy someday."
Tessai's back prickled with sweat.
Aizen stepped inside with Kisuke, the air around him calm as a closed book.
At the very back, Isshin patted Tessai's shoulder with a grave sympathy, the look of a man who also understood nothing, but refused to miss dinner out of stubborn pride.
Despite the store's worn exterior, the inside unfolded like a maze, underground structures and strange facilities woven together to support secret tunnels and hidden connections that brushed against Seireitei and Hueco Mundo.
Yet the meal itself was almost insulting in its simplicity.
Kisuke found a table, produced an induction cooker, and set a small hot pot bubbling as if this were a perfectly ordinary evening.
He beckoned happily.
"Come, come, try it. You'll like it."
Even Aizen seemed briefly amused.
Kisuke sat cross legged, fanning himself, and dropped meat into his bowl as if he were hosting harmless guests.
"Hm? Sir, you're not eating?" Kisuke asked, tone light. "It's delicious. Karakura food is hot and lively. You'd be missing out."
"That is not the issue," Aizen said, taking a seat. "Did you not want to know my identity?"
"Haha, of course," Kisuke replied. "But eating together eases tension, doesn't it? You haven't shown hostility."
Then, like it was no more than a casual question between bites, Kisuke asked again.
"So, who exactly are you? Or is there some problem in Seireitei that needs our help?"
Aizen picked up his bowl and chopsticks. He dipped a piece of meat into the bubbling pot, then into sauce, and only then answered.
"Strictly speaking, I am Sosuke Aizen. But I am different from the Sosuke Aizen you usually know."
Kisuke's fan slowed.
"To be precise, I am a mixture of three people. A large part of me is Sosuke Aizen. The other two are entirely different. So I am Sosuke Aizen, and yet I am not the original him."
"Is it a fusion of souls," Kisuke asked quietly, "or something more fundamental?"
"More fundamental," Aizen said.
He watched the hot pot's surface roll and churn, as if the boiling could help him find the right words.
"Even if I kill him, the spiritual particles and power would only flow forward into me. They would not return cleanly without resistance the way you might expect. I am Sosuke Aizen, but I am not the Sosuke Aizen of this world."
Kisuke's smile finally thinned.
Isshin slammed his hands on the table, frustration spilling out.
"What's wrong with you two? What are you even talking about? I can't understand a single word. Can you explain it in a way I can actually follow?"
Kisuke slowly removed his hat. Without it, his face looked frailer, almost harmless, which only made his eyes more dangerous.
"Captain Kurosaki," he said softly, "I think I understand what he means. I just… can't quite believe it."
His gaze returned to Aizen, sharp and steady.
"Sir. You killed the Aizen we knew, didn't you?"
Aizen did not flinch.
"Ah. I killed him," he said calmly. "Two hours ago."
He lifted his cup, steam curling upward, and his tone stayed almost gentle.
"Does that earn me a little basic trust now?"
Under Isshin's stunned stare, Aizen drank the tea in one smooth gulp, tea stems and all.
<><><><><>
[Check Out My Patreon For +40 Advance Chapters On All My Fanfics!]
[[email protected]/FanficLord03]
[Join Our Discord Community For Updates & Events]
[https://discord.gg/MntqcdpRZ9]