Aizen Sousuke
Aizen was looking at the small parchment in front of him. The letters seemed to sway and then blur then sway again. He drew it away and closed his eyes, sighing.
Curse astigmatism.
Slowly he opened his eyes and fixed his bang, which, he swore by heaven, hell, Sereitei and Hueco Mundo that he did not imitate from Hitsugaya Toushirou. And, no, he was not a fan of Clark Kent or Superman!
Even if he looked very different when wearing his glasses and when he wasn’t!
He wasn’t wearing them because he wouldn’t look like a villain that he was. Besides, it was the director’s decision.
“Aizen, villains don’t wear frames as thick as those unless you want to look like Mandark.”
Who the hell was Mandark?
Whoever that guy was, Aizen Sousuke would only choose to look like himself — Aizen Sousuke and nobody else.
Aizen looked at the parchment he was reading. Hougyoku instructions. Okay, so you’re supposed to hold it out like this…
Aizen stretched out his arm whose hand was holding the Hougyoku above a Hollow.
So how do you access the next level of this thing again?
Think of something happy and fluffy and feel the energy run down from your head and to your shoulders as if a feather is tickling you to, well, um, make you laugh…
What?
With his opening jaw, his fingers loosened and the Hougyoku fell like a marble on the ground. Aizen gasped as the other Hollows scampered for it and he had to kick them off before any of them could grab the prized invention. Grunting, Aizen picked up the Hougyoku and reread the instructions.
Think of something happy and fluffy and feel the energy run down from your head and to your shoulders as if a feather is tickling you to, well, um, make you laugh…
He was sure it was that. There was no mistake.
What was to come next?
… And make your reiatsu climb from the soles of your feet and up to your knees until you feel the need to do the boogie.
What the hell?
Aizen cursed as he dropped the Hougyoku again from his disappointment. He fumbled for it as it bounced like it was going to break against the ground. The Hollows were after it as well and Aizen had to kick some of them off… again.
Dusting himself and making sure the Hougyoku was still fine, he went back to reading the instructions.
Where was he?
Right, the boogie.
And when you feel the need to do the boogie then don’t. Instead shake your hips to increase the climbing pace of your reiatsu.
What the hell was this instruction manual talking about?
By the time the reiatsu is up to your chest, you will feel like you will want to do the chicken dance.
“What the f—“
Aizen dropped the Hougyoku again and he stopped it with his foot from rolling farther. With an aggravated sigh, he picked it up.
This thing was going to break even before he could use it.
God damn it, Urahara. Chicken dance?
Aizen checked the manual again. Where did he stop reading?
Chicken dance.
Right.
… You will feel like you will want to do the chicken dance. By all means, do so and do so until you feel tired. And since you took time to read up to the end of the prologue then let me congratulate you.
Aizen blinked.
Say the incantation out loud: Ai-hem-han-hi-jot.
Ai-hem-han-hi-jot.
Aihem-hanhi-jot.
Aihemhanhijot.
I AM AN IDIOT!!
And in fine print: There’s a separate manual for the next level, smart a**.
“OH, GOD DAMN YOU, URAHARA!”
An annoyed Aizen stomped and threw the manual on the floor and the Hougyoku as well. He gasped as the round thing bounced and rolled off. Aizen found himself racing for it along with several Hollows. Yes, he had to resort to slashing some since Aizen was selfish and violent... right?
Right.
Landing chest first, Aizen caught the Hougyoku, caving around it with his hands as he slumped his head.
“Oh? What are you doing there? Catching frogs?”
That was Gin Ichimaru’s voice.
“Gin, would you just get Ulquiorra and tell her to get that Inoue Orihime here.”
“What for?”
“Just do it. The Hougyoku’s been worn out from being used.”
Gin shrugged and left. Aizen grunted.
“May fleas infest your armpits, Urahara.”
And in a shop somewhere in the human world was a “sexy shop keeper” who sneezed.
“Someone must be talking about me.” Urahara said.
“Just because you sneezed means someone’s actually talking about you.” Jinta replied lazily.
“No, my armpits itch.”
