"This is session one of the counseling of Grimmjow Jaegerjacques, as performed by Dr. Aizen, on the recommendation of his commanding officer. Reports indicate that since return from a classified mission approximately three months ago, wherein Lieutenant Jaegerjacques shot and killed two men, his accuracy with a gun has decreased dramatically. My original theory is a lack of confidence, doubt in his own ability, brought on by something that occurred during that mission. My primary objective is to return Jaegerjacques to the field as quickly as possible, as usual."

"Lieutenant Jaegerjacques, please, have a seat. My name is Dr. Aizen, you may call me Sousuke if you like."

"Doctor my ass, you're a shrink."

"I am a psychologist, true. Is there something you have against my line of work, lieutenant?"

"Yeah, it's fucking useless. I'm not holding hands, or singing songs, or any of that other hippie shit, you understand?"

"I hadn't considered making you. Please, lieutenant, have a seat."

"How long do I have to stay and do this shit?"

"You'll be meeting with me every other day, and each day you will stay until I am satisfied with the progress we've made. You'll be confined to base, and off duty, until I decide to clear you to return to it. Which will only happen when I am sure we've resolved whatever is troubling you."

"This is fucking bullshit! I'm fine, I don't need a god damn shrink to try and fucking psycho analyze me!"

"On the contrary, you do. A seventy-five percent drop in accuracy, lieutenant? Your medical records check out fine, there's nothing physically wrong with you, so your sudden inability to hit anything must be psychological. If-"

"No, fuck you. I can hit a target just fine, you piece of-"

"Lieutenant. If you step outside of that door I will have you dismissed and escorted off base before you can make it back to the barracks."

"... You're bluffing."

"Feel free to test me. If you will not cooperate, and take steps to handle whatever trauma has decreased your performance, my official recommendation will be to discharge you, and my word holds quite a bit of weight. A sniper that can't hit his target is worthless to the military, Jaegerjacques, surely even you know that. Close the door, sit back down."

"You're a bastard, doctor."

"Yes, I've been called that before. You're welcome to feel whatever you like towards me, lieutenant, but I am the only one who can clear you for return to the field. Despise me if you wish to, I don't mind. The door, lieutenant, and then you may as well get comfortable. We'll be here for a while."

"There, are you fucking happy now?"

"Immeasurably, I assure you. Now, the reports of your falling accuracy start almost immediately after your last classified mission, care to tell me what happened?"

"No, it's fucking classified. What's your clearance?"

"Mmm, much higher than yours, lieutenant, I promise you."

"Then you've already read my report. What the fuck more do you want me to say?"

"True, I have, but I'd like to hear it in your words."

"My report is my words, jackass. Go fucking read it again if you want to hear it."

"Humor me, lieutenant. Outline what occurred for me."

"This is fucking retarded. Fine. I got sent off, I set up, I shot the family that I was supposed to, and I packed up and left. That's it, that's fucking all that happened. What more do you want from me?"

"That's rather impressive. As I recall, their were four members of that family. Yet upon returning you were only missing a single bullet from your rifle, and one more from your handgun. I think that tells a rather different story than what you'd like me to believe, doesn't it, Jaegerjacques?

"Shall we try that again? This time, without the lies?"

"... It got fucking complicated, alright? They're dead, and I wasn't seen. What else matters?"

"Whatever it is that shook you, Jaegerjacques, clearly. You're a military approved sniper, you kill all the time. Was this a case of one too many, or did something else happen?"

"Are you going to fucking string me up in front of the commanders for lying on an official report?"

"Like me or not, lieutenant, nothing leaves this room. Unless you compromised national security-"

"I didn't!"

"Then I am legally required to keep anything you tell me private. Does that ease your mind, Jaegerjacques?"

"Yeah right. I can hit a target, alright? This is fucking pointless!"

"I'll make a deal with you, Jaegerjacques. All of your scores in the shooting range are on file. If you match or exceed the average of your scores, not including those you've logged since you returned from this mission, then I will step aside and allow you to return to duty."

"And if I can't?"

"Then allow me to do my job, Jaegerjacques. Join me here, in this room, until I can fix whatever trauma has affected your work. Deal, lieutenant?"

"... Fine. Let's get this shit over with, alright?"

"I escorted Lieutenant Jaegerjacques to the shooting range. His performance was, in a word, dismal. I included only the scores of his performance reviews, to not skew the results with any anxiety from my presence, but his scores were well below the average. I am now certain that something in that mission went awry, and has affected his ability to shoot with any kind of real accuracy. As a sniper, I imagine that's a point of some pride for him. Certainly it was a rather difficult problem for him to admit that he had. I will recount, with as much accuracy as I am capable, our short interaction inside the shooting range. I cleared the area beforehand, so it was just the two of us.

"Jaegerjacques was quiet for quite some time after he was finished, but after a time he straightened up, and the first thing he said was, 'Not even fucking close, right?'. It was clearly rhetorical, but I confirmed his statement anyway. He was clearly angry, but I would guess that the anger was directed at his own failure, and not truly at me. He also seemed quite resigned. It has become my theory, that Lieutenant Jaegerjacques is fully aware of whatever it is that has caused his reduced performance.

"I dismissed him for the day, mostly because he seemed too withdrawn to be of any further use, after securing his promise to return the day after tomorrow for another session. He still seems to despise the idea of me analyzing him, so I have been quite careful not to call it therapy. I imagine that once Jaegerjacques decides to speak with me, this will go fairly quickly.

"End of session one."

"This is session two of the counseling of Grimmjow Jaegerjacques, as performed by Dr. Aizen, on the recommendation of his commanding officer. Today, I will be attempting to get Jaegerjacques to tell me the accurate story of what occurred during his last classified mission, as I believe it is the root of the problems he is having."

"Lieutenant, welcome back."

"Yeah, whatever, doctor."

"You seem rather less aggressive today, at least in comparison to last time. Have you accepted the need for this, as a solution to your problems?"

"I didn't sleep well, don't read anything else into it, bastard."

"Not something I'm capable of, I'm afraid. Bad dreams, Jaegerjacques?"

"... What the fuck does that matter?"

"Do I really have to answer that, lieutenant?"

"... Yeah, alright? Bad fucking dreams. Can we move on?"

"Very well. Let's revisit some of the subject matter from our last meeting. Would you like to take me through what actually happened in the mission that started this?"

"No."

"Will you?"

"Do I fucking have to?"

"Would you rather talk about your dreams?"

"You're a bastard."

"So you've said. What would you like to talk about then, lieutenant? If you can provide a viable source of conversation, by all means, please do."

"It's not like you're going to fucking get anything out of my dreams, anyway. Why the fuck do you want to know about them?"

"Call it a quirk of being a psychologist, if you like. If your dreams truly have no relation to your trauma, then it wouldn't do any harm to tell me them, would it? ... Yes, it is rather vexing when I make sense, isn't it, Jaegerjacques? Do you not like your excuses being revealed as precisely what they are?"

"Bastard."

"Do you always resort to name calling when backed into corners, Jaegerjacques?"

"Son of a bitch. I could put a fucking bullet in your head in a second, or break your fucking jaw! Would that shut you the hell up?!"

"Yes, aggression is the typical military response to a perceived threat. Sit back down, Jaegerjacques. Attempting to intimidate me by emphasizing your height, relative to my being seated, is not only ineffective, but almost laughable. We are both fully aware that, even if you had a gun on you, you'd be hard pressed to do any serious damage to me with it, unless of course it was by accident. Besides, whatever image you may have of me in your mind, I promise you that I am not nearly as helpless as you likely see me to be."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I am a military psychologist, Jaegerjacques. I admit, I can't match your rate of accuracy when you're at your best, but I am well above what you are capable of right now. I have been through all of the same training you have, lieutenant, and from what I know of your skill level in hand to hand combat, it is likely we are rather evenly matched. How I choose to portray myself has no bearing on what I am capable of, lieutenant."

"So, what? You're saying you're some kind of badass?"

"Depends on your definition, I suppose. The easiest way to phrase it would perhaps be, 'don't judge a book by its cover'. Does knowing that make it easier for you to consider me as some sort of ally?"

"... No. All it fucking means is that you're not talking out of your ass, I guess."

"Mmm, hardly."

"... Fine, bastard. The family I was sent to kill, you know who they were, right?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"They were all up on this stage, I'd been in position in a nearby building for hours. The dad gets up to make a speech, and I put a bullet in his head. Wasn't hard, one of the easiest shots I've ever made, really. The security moved faster than I thought they would, they dragged the sisters off the stage and threw the oldest kid down behind the podium before I could get a clean shot at any of them. Didn't matter to me. They'd have to move them eventually, and it's not like their home was particularly well guarded, or secure. Knew I'd get them. The crowd freaked out, scattered."

"... And then?"

"The kid gets up from behind the podium, and he looks right fucking at me. One of the security tried to drag him away, but he wouldn't go. He just stood there and looked at me, totally unafraid even with his dad's blood on his face. I had him, I fucking had him, but I couldn't pull the trigger. I just couldn't."

"But that's not how things ended, is it?"

"Fuck, I wish."

"Tell me."

"He gets off the stage and heads right for the building I'm in, security doesn't follow him, but I pack my rifle anyway. I'm ready for him when he opens the door to the room I'm in - no idea how the fucking bastard knew I was there - with my handgun trained on him. He steps in, closes the door behind him, and... fuck, he's just a kid. Maybe seventeen, probably younger, but there's not a trace of fear on him. A loaded gun trained on his fucking chest and he doesn't even look worried. There's just this look in his eyes, like steel and fire, and he asks me if I'm only here for his dad, or if it's all of them."

"And?"

"And I fucking tell him. I should've just fucking shot him, it's not like he was going to run from me. He wouldn't even have fucking ducked. He's quiet for a few seconds, and then he asks me why. They didn't fucking tell me everything, but I knew enough to know it was something about getting someone else to rule the country, and I told him that. Christ, I don't know why I did it. He fucking asks me to shoot him. He says that succession, in their country, descends through the male half of the family. He says that if he's dead, there's no point in killing his sisters, they won't have any claim, not even through marriage. He asks me to kill him.

"What kind of fucking selfless bullshit courage did the kid have to have to do something like that?! To fucking ask me to shoot him, without even flinching?! How the fuck could anyone do that?!"

"It's a rather remarkable feat of bravery, true."

"Bravery?! It's fucking insanity! He was just a stupid fucking kid! Why the fuck does it bother me this much?!"

"Did you shoot him?"

"... Yes. Fuck, yes."

"And his sisters?"

"... I let them go. I don't know if they survived or not."

"Did anything else of note happen?"

"The security finally caught up, had to bail fast, but otherwise, no."

"... You can go, Jaegerjacques."

"What?"

"You're free to leave, we're done for the day. I expect you back in two days, as usual."

"... Am I going to wake up in handcuffs, or a cell?"

"No, Jaegerjacques. As I said before, everything you tell me will be kept between the two of us, barring matters of national security. The boy you killed was right. With his father and him dead, and by the laws of their country, his two sisters have no claim to power. In the parameters of the mission you were given, they're no threat. I'll see you in two days, lieutenant."

"Yeah, alright."

"Lieutenant Jaegerjacques' report of events is rather interesting. But still, I am quite certain he is holding something back from me. The bravery of the boy, the younger son of the country's former ruler, first name: Ichigo, is certainly admirable, even astonishing, but it doesn't seem enough to affect a soldier of Jaegerjacques' expertise and seniority. However, I imagine having a target look him in the eyes, as the boy did, was probably something rather unfamiliar to him, given his skill. It seems unlikely that very many have come close enough to Jaegerjacques to even be within the range they would need to attempt killing him in return. Still, I doubt that was enough to affect his performance this badly. After all, Jaegerjacques has been involved in quite a few close combat fights, with no previous record of any drop in performance.

"I'll have to learn whatever it is that Jaegerjacques is still hiding from me."

"End session two."

"This is session three of the counseling of Grimmjow Jaegerjacques, as performed by Dr. Aizen, on the recommendation of his commanding officer. After entering my office, and exchanging basic greetings, Lieutenant Jaegerjacques was silent for nearly fifteen minutes. I have excluded the period of silence, this recording begins when he began to speak. During his silence, Jaegerjacques seemed visibly disturbed, and the closest to nervous I have seen him thus far. He sat across from me, on my couch, staring at the floor and repeatedly running his right hand through his hair."

"I missed."

"Missed what, Jaegerjacques?"

"The fucking kid. He asked me to shoot him, and I did, but... Someone shouted for the kid as I was pulling the trigger, probably the security outside and I... Fuck, I flinched. It was supposed to hit the kid's heart, make it fast for him, but I fucking missed. The impact slammed him back against the wall, next to the door, and he slid to the floor. All I could do was fucking stare at him, a fucking seventeen year old kid sitting against the wall, one hand clutching this hole in his chest, blood all over his shirt. He could barely fucking breathe, and there was that bloody froth on his lips, the kind you get from punctured lungs, but the kid still managed to look up at me. He fucking thanked me.

"The little bastard is sitting there dying, drowning on his own fucking blood because I fucked up the shot, and he fucking thanks me for it! I should have-! I, I... FUCK!"

"At this point Lieutenant Jaegerjacques drove a rather neat hole into my wall with a fist, which when we were done I sent him to receive medical attention for, as he'd broken at least two fingers. He returned to stand behind the couch, gripping the back of it nearly tight enough to rip the fabric apart. He had a rather menacing snarl on his face, and he was faintly trembling from what I am certain was a rather volatile mix of emotions. Including, but not limited to, rage, guilt, fear, and a certain level of self-loathing. After quite a bit of time - editing of this disk reveals a period of almost twenty minutes - he once again spoke."

"It should have been a clean death. A fucking sacrifice like the one that bastard kid was giving, that deserves an end with fucking honor, but I fucked it up. The kid suffered, died in agony, because of me. It was my fault."

"Everyone misses occasionally, Jaegerjacques."

"I didn't. My track record was fucking flawless, I'd never missed a target before that fucking kid."

"He haunts you."

"... Yeah. Every time I pick up a gun I see his face, see those fucking eyes looking up at me, see the pain in them. If I can't hit one kid's heart at ten feet, how the fuck am I supposed to hit anything else? A target, a fucking person?"

"Do you believe he considered that your fault?"

"I should have been able to make that shot with my fucking eyes closed, I didn't. It doesn't matter if he didn't blame me, I fucked up."

"So you don't actually believe that he blamed you for your misplaced shot?"

"I doubt he knew enough to. How the fuck was he supposed to know what I could do? What I fucking should've done? He was just a kid."

"Is it the fact that he was so young - sixteen, actually, not seventeen - that shakes you, Jaegerjacques?"

"No! ... Fuck, maybe?"

"If you feel capable of it, lieutenant, sit down? ... Thank you. You seem to be the only person that blames you for the accident, Jaegerjacques."

"Don't fucking call it that."

"What would you prefer I call it? You didn't intend to make the boy suffer, did you?"

"Of course not!"

"Then it was an accident by the very definition of the word, wasn't it? Though I am curious, when you realized what had happened, why didn't you take a second shot to fix it? Injured as he was, he would have been an even easier target than before. Why not end things, if you considered it such a mistake?"

"Fucking told you, didn't I? I did think about it, but by the time I came out of shock the kid's security was on its way up. I didn't have time for a second shot, I had to leave or get caught there. Nearly got snagged anyway, had to duck into a closet to avoid the bastards."

"If you'd had the opportunity, would you have taken that second shot to kill him?"

"Yes, fucking obviously. If there had been a few seconds more I would have put a bullet in his head, finished things cleanly."

"Then why blame yourself, lieutenant? You weren't afforded the opportunity to fix your mistake, but you would have if you were able. In this particular case, I'd say it's the thought that counts."

"Nice try. I fucked up the shot, I froze, both of those were my fault. Just because I didn't get the chance to fix it doesn't mean I shouldn't have, or that it fucking clears me of being responsible for it."

"The boy didn't bear you any ill will, lieutenant, as far as you've described. I'd even say he was grateful, in a certain way. Everything related to your drop in performance stems purely from your own mind, including this notion that you are to blame for the boy's death."

"What, are you going to try and convince me I didn't kill the kid?"

"No, you absolutely did. It was what you were ordered to do, what you were sent there for. Your commanders sent you there, the boy, rather foolishly, sought you out, it was the security that caused your aim to falter, and it was the security that interrupted before you could finish him off. None of that was under your control, Jaegerjacques."

"Is that what truly shook you? It was very disconcerting to have something not go the way you intended, wasn't it? ... You don't have to answer. We're done for the day, lieutenant."

"I released Lieutenant Jaegerjacques earlier than intended today. I don't believe I would have gotten any further information from him, not anything that would have been helpful, anyway. I do, at least, now have the full story of what occurred on his mission. Jaegerjacques' reaction is not quite so plain as it appears on first glance. He certainly feels guilty about his role in the boy's death, but that is only the surface layer.

"I believe that Jaegerjacques is suffering a rather deeper litany of doubt, and fear. That was the first time in his service record that his targets weren't taken down quickly, and cleanly, and the boy was already a rather controversial target to begin with. Not because of his age, or standing, but because of his reaction to the death of his father. The jump could have happened with any target, and I doubt that the Lieutenant would have done much more than attempted to fix a perceived decrease in his ability. However, since this boy acted as he did, the incident was severely more traumatic than it should have been.

"To put it quite simply, Jaegerjacques was not expecting to be confronted, or asked for help in such a manner. Even if things had ended there, without the mistake, it is likely he would have dwelled on the encounter for quite some time. Since things ended as they did, it has stuck in his mind. Getting him to release this self-doubt will likely be a rather difficult proposal, but one thing Lieutenant Jaegerjacques and I certainly have, is time."

"End session three."