Agito sat in her cell like she would a thrown.

She was dressed in a standard white yukata, the billowing fabric doing nothing to disguise the corded muscle in her shoulders or legs. Despite the red suppressant collar around her neck she gave off the impression that she only stayed in her cell because she wanted to. That at any given moment, she could simply choose to be free. The impression caused many a rookie shinigami to shirk their duties from sweeping her cell and delivering meals. Even with not a drop of reiatsu, she still had shinigami running for their lives.

The coy smile on her face didn’t escape Yamamoto or Shunsui as they stood before her to deliver her sentence personally.

“You are to be sentenced to death,” Yamamoto said his cane stomping on the ground like a gavel ringing in court, “The aftermath of the Winter War has absorbed most of our resources, time, and energy. Your execution shall commence in a weeks time upon the Soukyoku Hill.”

“A week,” she questioned, a teasing tone of her voice that spoke like the rattle of a rattlesnake, “So soon? Didn’t you all learn how ill fitting it was for a hasty execution upon the effects of Kuchiki Rukia?”

“You are charged,” Yamamoto steam rolled ahead, his voice portraying just how fed up he was with her, “With the murder of a Kuchiki Elder, resisting arrest, the teasonous plot against Soul Society, premeditated plans of terrorist actions, abetting with a megalomaniac madman-”

Agito opened her mouth to interrupt, believing Yamamoto to be done but he wasn’t.

“-and the murder of belated Kubo-taichou and Tristan Akatani.” Her mouth snapped shut and her face froze from giving any expression. She didn’t even twitch at the last charge, only closed up like a clam.

“Central Yon-Juu-Roku would charge her with the murder of her son?” questioned Shunsui at Yamamoto’s back.

“The happenings of exactly what happened that day are currently under question, seeing as how all three survivors coincidently happen to be traitors of Soul Society. Witnesses at the site have testified that Agito Diabolos was found at the scene of the crime hovering over a ‘Smite’ grave.

“What do you plead?”

A secret smile overtook her face, one full of mystery as if she held all the answers to questions never even perceived. The knowing gleam in her eyes was just as disturbing as Aizen’s existence.

“Guilty as you want it.”

It was the final seal.

Shunsui slumped behind Yamamoto, a sad turn of his brow telegraphing how upset he was. Agito used to be a student of his. She was both of their students. To see such a shining talent turn against them and even claim her wickedness … it was a tragedy.

“Surely,” Yamamoto suddenly spat, “You didn’t try to destroy the three dimensions for your perceived ills against me.”

Agito gave a mocking laugh, “‘Perceived ills’? I like how you said that. Completely discredited your fault within my creation. No, I didn’t join Aizen because of you. You are too small of a thing to join a cult over. I didn’t join Aizen to destroy the three worlds though.”

“Then why did you betray us?” Shunsui asked.

She lied, “Who wouldn’t want power? Who wouldn’t want change? Here, in this place, everything is set in stone. Everything is either go with the grain or be crushed by the mill. But Aizen was going to give me Hueco Mundo. A land of such vast potential. I trained his entire army. I recruited his Espada. I would have made an empire greater than Soul Society where no one went hungry. I didn’t know he was going to destroy all three worlds with his plans. I only thought he was going to give me Hueco Mundo once he conquered Soul Society. That’s why I killed him.”

“You are not so ruthless to suggest that you only killed Aizen because he was going to destroy what was supposed to be yours,” Shunsui said.

“What version of me do you believe in?” Agito questioned, “Do you still see the little girl with no control of her temper? Do you see the obedient soldier you raised so diligently?”

Her head tilted to the side, her golden eyes shining from an unnatural light.

“Would you ever see me as la Reina de Las Noches? Would you ever see me tearing through Aizen’s throat with my teeth, reaching my hand into his ribs to squeeze the last beat of his heart?” The cruelty in her voice was immistakible. A shiver ran up Shunsui’s spine and even Yamamoto felt a chill in the air. Agito had no crown, no thrown, no zanpakuto, and yet still she still gave off power like an unmistakable fact of life.

“It matters not,” Yamamoto proclaimed, “Whether you are a monarch or a savage. Within a week’s time you shall face certain eradication. Though you would have been moved to the Senzaikyuu, this privilege has been revoked in favor that you may use this one moment for an escape attempt.”

With a sweep of his coat, Yamamoto-soutaichou left the cell and his once young apprentice to her consequences. Shunsui was slower to follow.

Agito was never someone he would have sought to be friends with. Even as his student, he found her too hard, too serious, and too much to ever consider her a friend. But he still grew fond of her, having the tiny ounce of pride every mentor has over their student once they achieve greatness. Still, even after her traitorous actions and twist of personality, he still had hope his pride wasn’t wrong.

In addition, something felt off about the whole thing.

“I’m so sorry,” he said before leaving the cell.

Agito sat in silence as the outer door closed, the room naturally muffling all sound from the outside world. With no one to see, her entire act fell, leaving behind a soul that was slowly losing color.

She rested a hand upon her abdomen, bit her lip and promised to herself, ‘Soon.’

...

The door to her cell slide open and the two shinigami officers that came to visit surprised Agito.

“Toshiro,” she acknowledged, “Hinamori.”

Never would she have thought that she would see them both here, the two children Aizen to thoroughly tried to tarnish. The madman had made a mockery out of their bond and so she thought them both to avoid her entirely. But here they were.

Toshiro looked well, a few centuries older about the eyes and certainly a little taller from her vivid memory of back when she was last in a jail cell. Aizen had cut him down during the battle but clearly he was healed up and looked as if nothing was wrong. Beside’s the dark shadows under his eyes from sleepless nights, the boy looked to be completely untouched by the war. Agito knew that was a lie. Beneath his shinigami robes would be a vicious scar that bisected down his torso where no one else would see.

Toshiro was aiding Hinamori to stand and walk. Her wounds were much more grievous, having taken a sword through the heart and a crushed rib cage. The lady was awashed white with haunting shadows about her eyes, her lips a pale blue. She shouldn’t be up from her hospital bed.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” Agito asked, coy and dangerous, playing the part of murderess and manipulator. Hinamori flinched from her tone and trembled.

“You’re going to answer Hinamori-fukutaichou’s questions,” Toshiro said, “And you’re not going to pull any mind games.”

“Oh honey, if I were playing mind games, you wouldn’t know,” Agio teased. God, she hated this role but she had tailored it perfectly.

“Don’t-” Toshiro hissed, barely holding himself back from lashing out in anger. It wouldn’t do to attack someone behind bars, no matter if they are slated to die. Agito looked in between Toshiro's encouraging stance of support, and Hinamori’s fearful tremble but still standing presence. She crossed her arms over her chest.

“What do you want to know?”

Hinamori gulped and took one shaky step forward. She visibly gathered all of her courage before asking, “W-Well, I mean to ask … that is-”

“Spit it out girl,” Agito scolded through narrow eyes.

“Diabolos-san!” Toshiro rebuked.

“She’s the fukutaichou of the Fifth Company. Either she has the balls to demand some answers out of me, or Aizen chose a useless doll to play pretend with.” Hinamori flushed red.

“Diabolos-san!” she squeaked out, “I’m not useless!”

“You didn’t deny the ‘doll’ part.”

“No mind games,” Toshiro hissed.

“You bore me,” Agito said, tilting herself back in her chair in a dramatic show of luxury, “Hurry up and make my time worth it. I’m still waiting for a question.”

“I-” Hinamori’s flushed face returned back to it’s pale pallor. She ducked her head down, bangs moving to cover her eyes. She said in a quiet voice, “I am a doll.”

“Hinamori,” Toshiro tried to comfort but Agito steam rolled over him.

“Don’t coddle her,” she snapped at the boy, glaring at his hands still clutching onto Hinamori’s arm, “Let her stand on her own two feet.”

Toshiro didn’t move to obey but Hinamori was the one who took her own stand, stepping away from him and standing tall to look at the intimidating woman in the eye.

“I was a doll,” she said, stronger this time but still soft, “I was Aizen’s doll. But I don’t want to be anymore.”

“So the Hina-ningyo wants to be a real girl?”

“Yes.” Hinamori finally looked up with fire in her eyes and a real desperate want burning in her heart, “Please, tell me how to help myself.”

Agito was silent, studying the tiny girl before her. It was strange. This girl had the nerve, balls, and spine to look directly into her eyes and trust that she had an answer. It was strange that she didn’t ask anyone else. Maybe she did. Maybe Hinamori asked a few dozen people but no one answered her question. Because no one knows how it really it.

No one can relate to Hinamori’s brainwashing. No one can see just how deep Aizen’s poison runs. But Agito knew. Agito knew and though she was on death row, this tiny fukutaichou dared to enter the dragon’s cave to demand answers. It was admirable.

“It’s going to be hard,” Agito admitted, her facade now changed to something a little more softer because this wasn’t the time to act like the traitorous backstabbing shinigami everyone thought she was. Now was the time to be a woman.

“It was … an abusive relationship, what you and I went through,” Agito said, ignoring the strange looks Toshiro was sending. He didn’t matter. What mattered was the bright light in Hinamori’s eyes, understanding. “We had two totally different relationships with that man, you were manipulated and lied to love him since the beginning. I was forced to be with him and he never hid his ugly self to me. I loathed him, you love him. But now he’s gone and you have to move on.

“You’ll never be rid of the abuse. It’s a never ending discovery of fractures within your psyche. You will heal slowly because you don’t know how far the wound lies rotten within you. Grieve. Grieving will release you from your emotional bonds from that man. He’s dead and he hurt you, grieve. There’s no simple way of moving on other than putting one foot in front of the other. Learn to live alone, live for yourself. Get some hobbies, make new friends. Rebuild relationships that might have tarnished along the way. Learn to be a better person than what you once were.

“More importantly, you have to say to yourself, ‘I was abused. They were my abuser. I won’t be a victim anymore.’ Acknowledge the pain you went through. Give a name to the evil you survived from. And plan for a future where you are never hurt the same way again.

“You’re going to be triggered. It’s all apart of the PTSD gig. Learn to recognize them and then you can heal. Talk to Unohana-taichou if you want to talk to someone about therapy, but mostly … it’s learning how to accept your wounds as yours. Not denying them, or celebrating them. Pain is pain and should never be worshipped. Recognize your mental wounds as part of yourself and move on.

“Some days will be harder than others. But that’s why you have friends and people who love you, to keep you buoyant. Rely on them. Don’t shut them out. You were hurt by Aizen’s “love”. Let your friends heal you with theirs.”

Mid-way through Agito’s speech, Hinamori had started to cry. Silent tears with an unhappy frown. Her hand had lifted to cover her mouth and through her eyes were closed now to stifle the hot streaming tears, Agito trusted that the young woman heard every word she said.

With a gasping cry, Hinamori turned and fled, pushing herself into shunpo to escape faster.

“Hinamori!”

“Leave her,” Agito said with more understanding than what anyone was comfortable with, “Let her mourn on her own for a bit.”

“How would you know?!” Toushiro snapped, angry at his old sensei. She’s never done anything but destroy!

“I wonder,” Agito challenged before turning her back. Toushiro studied the strong expanse of her shoulders, questioning where it all went wrong.

Who was she, if she were not his sensei? Who was she, if she were not one of the greatest evils that betrayed the Gotei Juu-san? Who was she, if she was nothing he could comprehend?

A problem, he decided. One that he should shelve for now so that he could help Hinamori. Later, he will ponder the mystery.

He won’t make any headway and in the end he’ll give up.

Agito Diabolos is going to die anyway.

~~~

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