High Tea

Ichigo awoke some time later. His eyes blinked open a tad, but there was only faint moonlight to be seen. It must have still been late. Wow, when was the last time he was allowed to enjoy just being comfortable? Usually there was a squealing badge or stuffed animal whining in his ear. Grumbling he shifted to his side burying himself in the soft embrace of tons of downy pillows and sheets now saturated with his body heat. Ichigo huffed a sigh then cringed as the ache in his muscles and sharp pain in his lower back became very apparent.

His eyes snapped open and he bolted upright when it all flooded back. Ichigo scrambled out of the bed and whipped his head around trying to figure out his surroundings or find the lights. The room was small, not much bigger than his back home. He blinded groped for some sort of switch in the stone walls but found he was out of luck. Ichigo strained his eyes through the weak moonlight and saw it only had a small, yet lavish bed and a desk. Ugh. Gotta get out of here and find the others. How long have I been here?

Scampering to the door Ichigo forced it open and found himself almost stumbling into the hall. He had expected it would have been locked at least. Sliding back inside, the door barely cracked open, Ichigo looked down to see he had been left in his white juban and nothing else. Scanning the room he spotted only a pair of white hakama. Hesitantly he picked it up by the waist and let them unfold, dropping a black obi at his feet. Ichigo grimaced. He'd look way too much like Hichigo in these. Still better than searching pantless. Hurriedly he dressed, not happy that he'd have to run around barefoot and weaponless, but he preferred that to waiting around here while Aizen did whatever he damn well pleased with his friends. Just as he was about to leave he noticed Zangetsu resting next to the door. Ichigo blinked for a second, he hadn't noticed his sword before because he wasn't really expecting to see it ready to go.

"Lookin' sharp there," Hichigo chuckled in the back of his mind. "Can it, I don't need any grief from you right now." Ichigo grumbled internally as he ran through the white hallways trying to find any hint of a his friends, a prison, anything. It was strange. They hadn't locked him up, Zangetsu was waiting for him and the room hadn't even been made of soul-sucking stone or whatever.

`````

"Eh?"

Gin tilted his head backwards and upside down as a the small, orange, pulsing dot started giving off a low bleep as it darted across the map. Unpropping his legs off the console he pushed off and rolled across the room and swerved to a stop before he hit the opposite panel. With a flourish he rolled back his voluminous sleeves and started flicking switches, pressing buttons and sliding his fingers across the screen. The little lines and blocks on the screen shifted so that the orange dot only had one path past all the spectrum of other indicators straight to the burgundy one.

"I bet this is what them vidiya games are like."

`````

Nothing about the halls of Las Noches made any sense. After taking four right turns and coming back a new path that had opened where the first turn had been. That wasn't a good sign. Ichigo rubbed his face in aggravation and finally started hurrying down the new path, his feet starting to sting after endless stone corridors against bare feet.

Ichigo turned another corner and saw a long corridor that glowed with silver light at the end. If it led outside maybe he could get a better idea of where he was. Making his way to the end he suddenly found himself in a large moonlight balcony that overlooked the lower towers and the expanse of desert beyond. And towards the railing a small table sat between a throne and a stool.

Ichigo skidded to a stop and rested Zangetsu's tip on the ground, a pained look spreading across his face.

Of course.

Aizen peered round the edge of the throne and smiled innocently. An expression that might have suited him better about a year ago "I'm pleased to see you decided to join me, Kurosaki. The tea was starting to get cold."

Ichigo glanced at the table. He'd set up a traditional japanese tea set and a plate of mochi.

Of freakin' course.

"So...is this gonna happen every time I try to do anything on my own?" Ichigo gritted his teeth, the memory of the last tea party came flooding back and he was trying his best to suppress it. But his current setting was far too similar to allow it.

"Depends. Won't you have a seat?"

"I don't think I need to tell you why that's not happening," Ichigo turned to try to find his back.

"Then maybe I should remind you why it is. The corridors will simply keep leading you back here. Even if you manage to keep your distance my reiatsu can reach through these walls and beyond. In addition I'm willing to make a deal in exchange for the well-being of your friends."

There was a pause until Aizen lifted the pot by the handle and secured the lid letting the liquid pour into a tall, black clay mug, filling the silence with a cheerful gurgle.

Ichgio hesitated and turned back to face the moonlit balcony. "We talk first then we'll negotiate the tea part."

Aizen chuckled and wrapped his hands around his mug, disappearing behind the back of his throne, "Believe it or not this batch is free of any...impurities. However your conditions are fair."

Ichigo slowly made his way to the stool, slinging his sword over his shoulder. He now understood why they left it for him. He could fight all he wanted, but to even come close to harming the lord of Las Noches he would need to suffer first. Letting Ichigo keep his Zangetsu was like letting giving a rabbit a stick to defend itself in the company of a wolf.

Eying the mochi cakes Ichigo sat gingerly on the edge of the stool. He hadn't eaten since the party had left Karakura town and the spirit particles of Hueco Mundo weren't enough to keep him constantly satiated. He would have to tell his gut to ignore them for now. While Aizen claimed the tea was fine hadn't said anything about the cakes.

"First of all I would like to apologize for some of the vulgar things I said last night. I wasn't...in an entirely sound mindset at the time," Aizen smirked slightly and took a long sip from his mug.

"That's all you wanna apologize for?" Ichigo grumbled, leaning his elbows on his knees. "Just cut to the chase an tell me what you've done with my friends."

"They are perfectly safe. A couple hours after our last meeting Gin tired of leading them in a circle and closed off their paths. Now they are confined somewhere in the west of the dome. What happens to them next depends on you."

Ichigo deepened his scowl at the man, making sure the tea really wasn't doing anything to him or if he was simply skilled at concealing it.

"Your first choice is that all your comrades can be returned to where they belong. Whether it be Soul Society or the human world."

Ichigo narrowed his eyes. "And what about Inoue. You can't expect me to fight the whole way here and simply forget why I came."

Aizen paused and took another long sip, diverting his gaze out towards the desert. "Orihime will be returned as well. And in return you must remain here in Hueco Mundo. As you already know you're different than other shinigami. I can help you refine your raw power to its true potential. I can even show you how to fully control that hollow that feeds off of you."

"And then what? I have to agree to fight for you or something?" Ichigo glared, knowing that anything this man did always had ulterior motives.

"That will be left up to you to decide ultimately." Another sip.

As far as he could tell the older shinigami wasn't effected in anyway similar to the last cup of tea he shared with him. Ichigo supposed that he could tell the truth now and then. Probably when it was most convenient for himself.

"And the other option?"

"Ah. Well if that were the case then everyone, including yourself will have your powers stripped or sealed and myself and my subordinates can decide upon another purpose for you," the sensuous smile that suddenly crossed his lips made Ichigo snap his head away and gulp away a sudden dryness in his throat. His fingers fiddled with the folds in his hakama nervously.

Irritated, he pondered the first option, the second obviously not as appealing. If he were to agree Orihime would go free, and that was his goal after all. And he didn't want the others to suffer some horrible fate just because of him. Plus, he was a bit tempted by the idea of finally getting Hichigo to shut up. Either way though, it looked like he was stuck.

"Fine. I'll go through with it," Ichigo muttered finally.

"Shall we drink on it?" Aizen gestured to the other mug and begrudgingly Ichigo picked it up staring at the contents. The black glaze of the ceramic make it hard to tell exactly what he was drinking. He glanced back at Aizen, whose smug expression honestly wasn't much different than it usually was. But it was nowhere near what he had looked like high on aphrodisiac.

Bottoms up, Ichigo thought as he supported it with both hands and took a small sip. He blinked for a bit. It definitely wasn't a tea he had before. Kinda like green tea but it had a strangely earthy and savory edge to it.

"Genmaicha," Aizen stated amused at the boy's quizzical expression. "It was first brewed when Japanese commoners had little tea leaves to spare so they added brown rice to enhance the weak green tea. The result was that delightful robust edge."

Ichigo sat and waited for the worst. But the only change he was feeling was a pleasant warmth in his empty stomach. Carefully he took another, longer sip.

"I personally enjoy genmaicha with some savory mochi. It renews the palette so that the next sip as enjoyable as the first. The sweet kind has its place, but is really distracting from the subtle flavor of the tea."

Rolling a pinch off the stretchy rice cake Ichigo mashed it idly between his thumb and forefinger. It seemed fairy normal compared to any he'd had in the past and was secretly thankful it wasn't the sweet kind. Back home it came in a flavored set which usually included strawberry and he wasn't in the mood for any possible puns. He reluctantly sucked the morsel off his fingers.

Ichigo took another drink, and could appreciate now what Aizen was trying to describe. Still, compared to the last tea it was rather plain. And as far as he could tell, drug-free. Goddamit why couldn't he get the memory of that tea out of his head?

"In a few hours your friends will be escorted back to where they belong unharmed, you may even see them off to be assured that I've kept my promise. Afterward your training will begin."

Already? Ichigo thought. Whatever as long as the guys are safe and as far away from these people as possible.

There was a rustling of fabric and Ichigo looked up to see that Aizen was now standing barely feet away, casting a shadow over him. His expression was dead serious, almost completely masked by darkness save a couple shreds of moonlight that shone against one side of his face and glinted in his amber eyes.

"There is just one thing you must understand, Kurosaki. I don't offer my guidance to just anyone who seeks power and great as mine. You will not attempt to escape, question me or try anything remotely foolish. This isn't a request or even an order. It is simply how it shall be. Otherwise I won't hesitate to put you in your place. Do we have an understanding?"

Ichigo's grip tightened around his mug until he felt it could crack. He scowled and tried not to flinch at his ominous presence and the slight, sudden rise in the pressure around him. "Whatever you say," he muttered finally.

Aizen didn't say anything as his eyes narrowed slightly. The spirit pressure in the air suddenly increased just enough to make Ichigo feel as if it would crush him through his stool, "Whatever you say...Aizen-sama," Ichigo suddenly grunted through clenched teeth.

The pressure let up and Aizen's expression returned to his default smirk. If not mockingly softer than normal. "Very well then. One of my subordinates will fetch you when the time comes. Meanwhile feel free to finish your tea and familiarize yourself with the grounds. I have other matters to attend to."

With that he made his way past Ichigo with a sharp rustle of his coattails. Ichigo lowered his gaze to the thin layer of liquid in the dark depths of the mug. What exactly had he gotten himself into? And why did Aizen offer to train him? What would that even entail? "Probably involves more pointless lectures on tea," he thought. "That's one thing I can be sure of."

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A few hours later, or by whatever time unit a place with a permanently fixed moon went by, Ichigo stood at the entrance of Las Noches with his friends facing him. Rukia and Renji had already gone back with Ulquiorra a little while ago. Something about spirit frequency between worlds etc etc. Grimmjow stood bored and waiting by Chad, Ishida and Orihime. She had been given the school uniform she had came with. Her eyes were dark, hands folded in front of her, unable to work up the courage to look at him.

They had already opened the garganta and were waiting for someone to say something. His friends already knew about the bargain and wanted to object and chastise him for agreeing to stay. But at the same time they knew that he was only doing it to spare them and didn't want to be ungrateful.

Finally Grimmjow scratched his neck and sighed. He grabbed Orihime by the shoulder and grumbled "Alright all this goddamn tension is gonna kill me. Let's get moving."

"No, wait!" Orihime wrenched herself away and stumbled forward, burying her face in Ichigo's chest. "Th-thank you Kurosaki-kun. If I tried to say all the things I want to right now they'd just come out all wrong and jumbled so just...thank you."

Ichigo sighed and embraced her gently. "It's alright Inoue. Just promise me you'll do your best to help the others protect Karakura while I'm gone."

She looked up at him, still fighting back tears. He relaxed his stern expression and tried to give her the most hopeful smile he could.

Finally she nodded, smiling and ran back to join Chad and Ishida. "We'll clean your room and plan a big celebration dinner for when you get back!"

Grimmjow rolled his eyes and nudged her through the gaping hole in reality. Orihime jumped through while Chad gave him a stoic glance and a nod before joining her. Ishida pushed back his glasses and muttered "Don't worry Kurosaki. I've been taking care of Karakura's hollows long before you were," before turning to take his leave.

He disappeared into the hole and Grimmjow followed, giving him a wave before the gap sealed back up.

Ichigo sighed and turned back towards the entrance to Las Noches. He had told them that Aizen was going to let him return home after a while and reassured that he only agreed to it so that he could figure out Aizen and the espada's weaknesses. He actually didn't know, or even discuss when he could go free. But the others had already started planing how they could teach Kon how to be a more convincing Ichigo in his stead.

He was glad it went over well, but still was a bit worried that it had all smoothed out so easily.

`````

That night he sat on his bed picking at his bowl of rice and bonito tuna flakes. He'd expected that all the arrancar and the traitor shinigami ate together at that large hall where he'd first encountered Aizen. But apparently everyone preferred to eat in their own quarters. It made sense when he thought about it. None seemed the type to want to join together for meals like one large semi-functional family.

Ichigo's stomach still churned even when he'd picked out the last grain of rice. He had only had that one small mochi cake earlier and had lost his appetite for more after almost getting himself crushed. But this was all he was going to get until he'd proven that he was willing to cooperate.

There was a small knock at his door and a weak arrancar maid entered. She set a small stack of books down on his desk and placed a fresh pile of stark white clothes on the shelf. Taking Ichigo's bowl she left silently, leaving his door open. Ichigo grumbled and got up to close it and almost ran into Aizen as he made his way in.

Ichigo stumbled back a few steps and grabbed the edge of his chair. "What the hell do you want?" he spat.

"My my, I let all of your comrades go free and let the lovely Orihime fly from her cage and this is how you speak to me? I didn't have to give you a private room or even a bed or food for that matter either," Aizen chided, watching the teen attempt to hide his look of embarrassment.

"Sorry...Aizen-sama" Ichigo muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"You will be forgiven this time," Aizen took the chair from the desk and sat upon it as if it were another one one of his thrones. He grinned as Ichigo gripped the edge of the mattress and diverted as eyes as far as he could without turning his head. The boy had no idea how subtly amusing he could be without even trying.

"Here's how things are going to work from this point forward. Simply put you are an extremely crude shinigami. Powerful yes, but you lack any sense of strategy or knowledge of how to control or utilize your power. Most have to study at the academy for decades before they can even hope to become even a lower seated member of Gotei 13. And yet you can already take out lieutenants and captains with just enough effort. And this is without much more training than a crash course in using your sword's two main abilities."

"So to start we are going to see how much your ability grows once you've learned to utilize all four shinigami abilities from the ground up. Swordsmanship, hand-to-hand combat, shunpo and kido are all areas you lack any real training in. You've simply been very lucky so far throwing around bursts of your reiatsu and catching your opponent off guard."

Ichigo grumbled inside his head. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he knew Aizen was right. Still, why would he take the time to do this? Why improve a kid who was more than likely turn against him later?

"When you're not training you can do as you please as long as it's within the limits of your agreement. However, I can assure you there's not a great deal that could keep you entertained in Hueco Mundo. I've lent you these from my personal collection," Aizen placed a hand upon the stack of books. "You will read each day and we will discuss what you have read over tea."

Ichigo scanned the titles in the dim light. He could only make out Sun Tsu's Art of War and The Book of Five Rings, by their metallic lettering on the spine.

"How am I supposed to read in this light?"

"You will learn enough kido tomorrow to be able to make your own light. If you fail to do so it will make tea time...unpleasant," Aizen smirked a tad more than usual and stood. "Any questions?"

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Everyday from then on out was the same. Ichigo would wake up, get dressed, grab Zangetsu, and dash out into the halls of Las Noches for the most ridiculous speed training he'd ever heard of. Each morning Gin would have set up a new path for him. He'd have to proceed to try and find his way down each hall as quickly as possible before the walls shifted so that he'd be back at his room where he started. He wasn't allowed to use his bankai just yet for Aizen wanted him to build his base speed, claiming with that his bankai and hollow speed would augment as well. After a few weeks of his Ichigo might be ready to move onto proper shunpo training.

Ichigo could never actually tell where the end of the line was, since it changed everyday, he just kept moving past the shifting doors as fast as possible. Whenever he did reach it would become apparent as Tousen would be waiting silently for him to arrive. Blindness had given him a particularly refined sense of reiatsu and was apparently the most suited to teach him kido. After the first few days he was able to do small tricks with his reiatsu like creating a small portable light (thankfully), dancing orbs of energy and the ability to fling small objects across the room. Once that was done Ichigo was moved onto the first set of Hado.

Afterward he had to spar with Grimmjow or Ulquiorra in bare handed combat. This was one of the few areas where Ichigo had some decent experience from his school life. However, he still felt himself exhausted after having to try and dodge every blow they delivered while trying to find just one small opening to land a hit. He went whole sessions without finding one. Both reminded him of this as condescendingly as possible in a pseudo-lecture afterward.

Then he was given a little recovery time before he had to move onto swordsmanship. Everyday he had a new opponent and each wielded something different from Barragan's executioner's axe to Sun Sun's tiny trident. Each proved to be deadly and Ichigo realized he had to learn how to use what he had against an array of weapons. He was at least grateful that Zangetsu fought the way he liked in battle. Not to large to maneuver quickly, but large enough to deliver a serious blow when it struck. It was the extension of his soul after all, he shouldn't have been surprised it suited his style.

Fairly beaten and thoroughly exhausted Ichigo would then collapse back in his room. He wanted nothing more than to just go back to sleep, but he knew he had to read. Begrudgingly he'd take one of the tomes from his desk and pick up from where he was. Military stuff had never appealed to him too much, not much more than your average teenage boy anyways. But still he found interest in the dry text. Most of his focus had been on The Art of War. He'd picked it up first only because it was on top, but now found himself engrossed.

Then sometime later an arrancar maid would arrive with a cart for tea. Ichigo would grumble and sit up, marking his page before Aizen arrived. He'd have Ichigo reiterate what he'd read while he poured whatever tea was there that day. It ranged anywhere from Turkish tea in a double pot to earl grey to pu-erh. Ichigo was beginning to wonder if he had servants specifically assigned to take care of what seemed like a ridiculously extensive obsession with the stuff.

He'd been at this for more than a week and nothing he'd consumed seemed to be tainted like that first pot of tea. And yet Ichigo still hesitated before finally taking the first sip. He never felt any side effects. If anything the different teas left him with disappointment and he loathed himself deeply for it. Disappointment that Aizen didn't want anything more from him than to become a more powerful shinigami who would have to fight for him eventually from the way it looked.

As they drank Aizen would ask him his thoughts on what he'd read and how he could apply it to different situations. Ichigo had found it surprising, but he so far had been fairly good at interpreting and analyzing whatever tidbits of military strategy he'd picked up on. And he started feeling a twinge of pride every time Aizen gave him an approving, non-malicious smile and praise for his thought process.

Eventually Aizen would tell him he had other things to attend to and take his leave. Ichigo then spent the rest of the day soothing his aches in the private bath that was right across the hall from his room. Fairly refreshed he'd then collapse in his bed and try to recover for the next day to repeat the whole damn thing over again.

`````

A couple months later Ichigo ran into is room and slammed the door shut. Dropping Zangetsu in the corner he fell onto his bed and lay there trying to catch his breath. He had to fight Gin for sparring practice and he'd easily been the most annoying he'd dealt with so far. It was one thing to fight an enemy with large weapon, it was another thing to fight someone who could slash at anything in a radius of 30 feet while just standing there grinning.

He scowled and ran a hand through his orange hair trying to get the sweaty bangs out of his face. Sliding to the edge of the bed he sat up and undid the obi of his hakama and loosened them enough to strip off his soaked juban. He sat there for a moment and let the air cool him off. Ichigo spotted a small cut Gin had left on his upper arm and grimaced. Holding his hand over it he tried to concentrate a bit of reiatsu on the area. Finally his palm glowed green and the wound began to close up like a zipper. It managed to shrink to a mere scab, but he hadn't totally figured out how to make it disappear completely. Ichigo flexed his arm a bit to see if it would start to open again. So far it seemed pretty well intact. His build hadn't changed much since he started. His muscle had grown a bit in size, but more than anything his body had become harder. leaner and more defined after daily struggles against relentless opponents.

Ichigo sighed and rested back on the bed, not sure what to do next.

Training had gone as usual that day, but he was getting irritated. About a week ago Aizen had informed him that he wouldn't be joining him after sparring for tea for a little while. At first Ichigo didn't think much of it, glad he could have a break from the tension the man's very presence gave him. But after the first few days he admitted to himself that tea was one of the few times of the day he looked forward to. He didn't want to ask Gin, Tousen or the arrancar what kept Aizen so busy that he couldn't spare some time for him anymore. The last thing he wanted was for any of them to realize how much the visits meant to him. Ichigo felt like a kid again, waiting for his favorite anime to come out of filler episodes.

Ichigo turned on his side and stared out the window. How many afternoons had he shared with him? Just talking, praising and giving lectures on the qualities of whatever tea was present? Tea. Oh god tea. Every time he thought about it the memory of that flowering tea in the glass pot eventually followed.

He glanced around and slid under the sheets. Just a hunch or maybe an educated guess, but he was pretty sure that Gin had the room under surveillance. "I'm not gonna fight it tonight." Ichigo thought as he hugged a pillow close to his bare chest. His body warmed gently as he went through ever detail in his head. Aizen's warm relentlessness mouth at his neck and lips. The rough, lustful words he growled into his ear. How his hands had drawn out the most wonderful sensations he'd ever felt with only the lightest touch of his fingertips.

Ichigo swallowed, trying to wet his dry throat and slid his hand cautiously until he reached his hardening erection. Running his fingers up the length he shivered and closed his eyes. He visualized the passionate, evil smirk Aizen looked at him before he stole his first kiss with a hungry mouth, pressing his body down into the cold, hard table. Taking his other hand Ichigo slid a few fingers into his mouth trying to remember what it was like. He gave himself a few strokes, rubbing his trickles of precum around the smooth head. The pillow fell over forgotten as he rolled onto his back imagining the older man running his hands along Ichigo's thighs appraisingly, his whole body unclothed for his enjoyment.

Clenching his eyes Ichigo gasped as he tightened the grip on his fully hard member and pulled the saliva soaked fingers from his mouth, letting them trail down his torso to fondle his tense sac. He was slick with fluid now and started hurrying his movements, glad the sheet barrier muffled the wet sounds. Ichigo spread his legs further and turned his head to the side, letting his warm cheeks cool against the pillow. His lips parted as his breathing quickened, the grip on his cock speeding up imaging Aizen laying warm, wet kisses along his chest, his hard on sliding teasingly against his.

"No...please Aizen-sama..." he whispered as he felt himself peaking. The Aizen in his head only chuckled mockingly and grabbed him, roughly forcing him onto his stomach. Ichigo turned over in his bed so his rear was propping up the sheet and whined, shifting his pace to slower, harder strokes.

"Don't worry Ichigo. All you need to do is lay there and take it like the whore you are..." the imaginary Aizen growled into his ear before gripping his hips and forcing himself into Ichigo's tight passage.

"Please I'm begging you! Sto-agh! Ern..." Ichigo whispered harshly into his pillow. He picked up his speed and rocked his body with the pace of his imagination. "Aizen-sama I'm gonna...ahhhhhhhhhhhhh" he hissed as he suddenly shot his load into his loose hakama. He panted and groaned as he stroked out a few more spurts and pushed the flaps of the pants aside, letting himself collapse back down to the mattress.

There was a knock at the door.