Risou Eien

Risou Eien:

Chapter Two

by: Ryoko (Naraku's Dark Soul)

Szayel Aporro’s fingertips flew across the keyboard. Onscreen, several molecules rearranged themselves and he smiled, a slow spreading of the lips. If his calculations were correct, he had finally identified the exact chemical composition of the drug the Shinigami Captain had used on him. It was something that had troubled him since he had awoken. His old body was not hard to find, but the poison contained within it had proven to be quite the challenge to disassemble. Szayel had to grudgingly admit his fellow scientist was quite the brilliant man despite his obvious disadvantage being a member of an inferior species. He never would have thought the reagents involved would be quite so unique.

With a click, Szayel had the solution forever saved, forever his.

He may not have been able to change the past, but he could make sure it repeated itself. This time everything was in Szayel’s favor, and would remain that way. He would make sure of it. The circumstances were different. There would be no unnecessary battle, no disappointing outcome. Instead, everything would be an experiment on tolerance. How long would the Shinigami Captain last infected by his own creation? For that matter, how long could Szayel tolerate being in the other man’s disgusting presence before killing him?

Under ordinary circumstances, Szayel did not think he would be able to stand the smug face of his counterpart for longer than was necessary, but somehow he knew this would be the exception.

Szayel had already analyzed the Shinigami’s structural composition and was well aware of how unique the other man had made himself. The next step would be to create and administer the poison. Then the fun could truly begin. Szayel had the most brutal regiment of tests and experiments he could think of planned for the Shinigami. Nothing could be more enjoyable than returning the favor of thousands of years’ worth of painful contemplation. Perhaps he would even be so generous as to allow the other man brief periods of lucidity as well. These would, no doubt, prove to be a useful study on the progression of insanity.

Lips curling into a smirk, Szayel programmed his computer to produce the poison. Naturally, it would have been child’s play for him to create, but he wanted to test the limits of his new hardware. His palace had been rebuilt, all the computers replaced. Although he was sure the equipment was more than sufficient, he had not had a chance to fully test its capabilities; Szayel never left anything untested.

Swiveling in his seat, Szayel summoned one of his faithful Fraccion. “I trust the room is prepared,” he postulated, standing before the insect-like thing finished its assenting nod.

Strides swift, Szayel exited the room and moved into the darkness of his scientific labyrinth. Within minutes, he reached his destination. Although the door looked the same as all the rest, Szayel did not hesitate in opening it. His domain might have been confusing to others, but Szayel Aporro knew it like his own DNA.

Although Szayel’s expression did not change from the usual amused apathy, the sight of the Shinigami tied to his laboratory table sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine. The man’s arms spread out directly to the side and feet together, he looked like the victim of a crucifixion. While this was certainly within the realm of delightful possibility, Szayel had something far more intrusive planned for this first experiment.

Szayel stepped closer to his newest specimen, his expression carefully maintained. It was, however, impossible to keep the excited timbre out of his voice. “I trust you find your accommodations pleasing,” he said, caressing the metal of his perfectly manufactured laboratory table. Mayuri opened his eyes, gaze rolling to meet Szayel’s own. He opened his mouth to speak, but Szayel cut him off. “I do not believe I gave you leave to respond. Or am I quite mistaken?” Mayuri almost managed a rebuttal this time, but Szayel cheerfully shoved a wad of cloth into his mouth before sealing his lips with medical tape.

“There, now. That repulsive voice of yours has finally been silenced,” he said, his features melting into a maniacal grin. “Were the world a sentient entity, I have no doubt commendations would be in order.”

Chuckling, Szayel ran his fingers over all the instruments he had lined up and ready for use before selecting a scalpel. He approached the wonderfully prone Shinigami, already anticipating the feeling of the other man’s flesh parting beneath his blade.

Before he could decide on a ‘Y’ or ‘T’ incision, one of his Fraccion appeared and handed him a syringe full of the Shinigami Captain’s drug. That he had all but forgotten about such was truly a testament to his excitement.

The Shinigami’s relaxed expression became strained as Szayel flicked the syringe a few times. Pushing in the plunger to remove any excess air, Szayel watched with delight as the other man’s eyes widened and he began to struggle. Leaning in over his counterpart, Szayel trailed a gloved hand over the other man’s bare chest.

“My, my, why so nervous? I would think you‘d be overjoyed knowing you’ll soon make a valuable contribution to science.” Szayel’s lilting voice filled the chamber as he inserted the needle directly into the other man’s chest, right above his heart. He pushed the plunger in slowly, savoring the Shinigami Captain’s renewed, vigorous struggles.

Something like a moan escaped Szayel’s lips as he administered the last of the drug. This simple act brought him more pleasure than he had ever thought possible. Revenge was, indeed, sweet and addicting. Szayel was already hooked.