I no own Ao no Exorcist. :T

at the start of the path of sleep is a sign

"Welcome to the Garden of Amahara."

She's spent the longest time searching for it, only to find out that it's been slapping itself to her face since the moment she was conceived.

"Ahhh . . . "

It's getting a bit harder to breathe.

"Dammit, don't give up, Shiemi! Don't you dare let go!"

Honestly, she's a bit thankful that her vision has gone blurry. She can barely see the tears running down the softly curved planes of Rin's face anymore, and the expression of desperation he wore that was marvelously, spectacularly distorted.

At least she doesn't feel as guilty.

"Shiemi? Shiemi!"

The flowers start blooming.

One by one, like a set of wonderfully colored and breathtakingly beautiful dominoes falling over in rapid succession. They burst open like fireworks, showering her with the scent of fruit, clean and watery. There is a citrus tang to the aroma that clings onto her like a second skin, thinly veiled by a sort of impossibly fresh sweetness that latches on to the insides of her nostrils. It lodges itself in the back of her throat, and she feels like she cannot—should not—breath anymore. Her feet sink into the soft ground and the grass tickles her skin with the softness of a lover's caress.

She has found herself in a place that simply exudes sheer beauty that all her senses and brain processes are being overpowered and reduced to nil.

Saliva runs like an angry stream down her throat, and her tears are falling like waterfalls from her eyes, and she pretty much cries herself dry because she feels so impure right now.

She feels like a newborn lamb, and nothing can possibly compare to this experience.

She notes that the roses are an exceptionally brilliant red, like the familiar shade of blood staining white knuckles that press down to keep it inside a warm body.

But that's not important. What's important is that this place is—

"So . . . pretty . . . "

She wishes Rin and Yukio and everyone else could see this. That she could share the vision of this spectacular show with everyone else, and that they could be as happy as she was.

"Moriyama-san!"

(Except . . . maybe she doesn't.)

The vines start wrapping around her wrists. They pull her toward the brightest light show she has ever seen, and she does not even think about resisting. Everything is too fascinating and beautiful.

She really wishes she could watch this with her grandmother.

"Shiemi! Shiemi!"

Her feet are dragged along the soft earth, tiny blades of grass tickling her ankles with a loving caress. A rainbow collection of petals floats all around her. It's like everything in this garden is lathering her with attention.

(She doesn't deserve this.)

And then . . . she realizes that there is no one else here. This sparkling scenery is for her, and for only her to see. Its beauty blinds her and only her, and the smell of fruit wraps around her body and no one else's.

And as she approaches the brightest light show she has ever seen, she contemplates on a last act of selfishness.

"Moriyama-san!"

She burns this image to the back of her eyelids so she can watch it while she sleeps.

"Shiemi!"

She hears nothing else but the lull of the wind, brushing the petals onto her cheeks and staining her with their scent. She can almost hear the plants whispering the song of the angels into her ears, like the lullaby her grandmother used to sing to her.

"Shiemi . . . "

And she feels warm arms embrace her, and a familiar, earthen scent fills her with happy memories from a past as beautiful as this garden.

"Grandma . . . " She can share this garden with the person she loves the most.

Indeed, the Garden of Amahara truly was Heaven.

/fin

A/N: Response-ish fic to Empatheia's That Far Garden, where the Garden of Amahara was located in Hell/Gehenna. While it's something I've considered, the happy thought is that it could be the reverse—that the Garden of Amahara is in "Heaven" instead. But of course, being the depressing person I am, I managed to turn that idea into something a lot more twisted. I feel like the Garden of Amahara isn't really something that exists; it's more a place that its believers create for themselves than anything tangible. Hence, Shiemi's "Heaven"; here, it's less the Christian concept, and more a personal paradise. IDK how to explain this properly, really. :I I think my brain's just down from all the schoolwork I'm still procrastinating on, OTL. I really should get back to that. ._.