Hey boyos.

First off, I know the last chapter sucked, and I know that this chapter is boring. I'm sorry, but it has to be done. It'll get interesting, I promise.

I should point out as well that this story has a lot of inconsistencies within itself. This is intentional—if you noticed these inconsistencies, good for you, try and remember them. Also, as the chapters go on, it might become inconsistent with the manga. For now, though, it is consistent through the current place in the manga, which is chapter 387. I'll make notes about the significance of the cannon to the manga as it becomes important.

I know this took a while, the house is being remodeled, and I've been doing my homework that I had procrastinated on before.

And thank you to Alice Hattercandy (I think that's what it is, I'm not looking at it at this second) for the one and only review. All sarcasm aside, I appreciate it a lot, and I intent to continue.

Thanks,

Emmy

It was him.

But it couldn't be him. He shouldn't have become a Shinigami, he had died as a Shinigami, the power was supposed to have died with him. He should have been reborn and died by now, living as a normal soul in Soul Society, without Soul Powers. Why was he here?

It couldn't be him, she decided. Not only had he died as a Shinigami, but he had no manners or respect for authority. Ichigo would never say something like "reporting for duty." Ichigo was not the kind of person to be made into a captain—he wasn't a good person for the position. Paperwork didn't suit him, and neither did dealing with those people who had governmental authority. And nobody was ever recruited without having first being made a captain, the one and only exception being Orihime herself, and that was only because of her particular situation. It wasn't him. It couldn't be him.

Reassured by this conclusion, Orihime finally brought herself to look up, as she had been staring at the ground for a few seconds in thought. She gasped.

It was him.

It was undeniable. He was older that he had been since she had seen him, and there were premature grays moving in from his temples, but the color was the same vibrant orange as she saw in her dreams every night. His eyes were the same, the warm brown that they had always been. He was still tall, but now he was so much taller that she could almost see the underside of his chin. His body was muscled, as it had always been, and his mouth... his frown was gone, replaced instead by a tight-lipped line. When she was it, Orihime's heart missed a beat—she knew that expression. She knew what it meant.

He didn't seem to recognize her, at least. That was good, she told herself. That was as it should be. He continued to look down at her as if he was sizing her up, the way he always looked at people he was just meeting and potentially going to be in conflict with. She wanted to sigh, but she restrained herself. If he didn't know her, that she was not going to know him, and there was no point burdening someone who knows you as a stranger.

"Kurosaki Ichigo, you said?" he nodded. "Hello, Ichigo, I am Orihime, chief Caregiver of Royal Realm."

He looked surprised. "Caregiver?"

"Yes," she replied. "I'll explain on the way, we have a great deal of distance to cover." She began running, jumping up to the trees that she was so fond of to begin on her way. He began after her.

"A Caregiver," she began after they had been running for few minutes, "is one of the highest ranking positions in the Royal Realm. We have one of the more difficult jobs that there are."

There was no pride in her voice, no smile to be found. If Ichigo noticed, he didn't say anything. As far as Orihime could tell, he was looking ahead, focused on where he was running, and listening to the words, not the emotions behind them.

She allowed herself to sigh. She was doing that a lot, she noted. Sighing. "It is the job or caregivers to find out as much as we can about Soul Powers and how to manipulate them."

He looked surprised. "So, what are you, a researcher? Like Mayuri?"

She laughed. "Do not compare me to that man. He is a sadist, and I'm amazed that he's still alive, or that you know him." She paused, still chuckling at the idea of Mayuri being a Caregiver. The picture simply did not work. "Is he still the head of research and development, captain of squad 13?"

"Yes," he said. "Though he has a new daughter now. Nemu ran away from him, to the land of the living."

"Nemu ran away?" This was news indeed. "She was a mod, wasn't she? How did she do that?"

"Nobody really knows how she did it, Mayuri included. I know that she went to live with someone, a Quincy. I heard that they got married. He must have had something to do with it."

A Quincy. There were no Quincies. Rather, Orihime corrected herself, there was only one family left of that race, which meant...

Uryuu. He had fallen in love, had gotten married. Orihime thanked the Gods—Uryuu deserved happiness and love, more than Orihime did. And he had gotten it. She glanced up to the sky and flashed it a grin before again concentrating on the path in front of her.

Ichigo continued without noticing her pensive moment. "Actually, Mayuri tried to go and kill her (you know how he is), but I guess the Quincy had almost killed him before, so he backed off. It's something none of us had ever heard of happening before, Mayuri backing down."

She laughed again, and there was silence. For a long while, they were just running. It wasn't until the sun was fading fast that Ichigo returned to their previous topic. "So, what do you spend your time doing, then, Inoue? If you're not a researcher, how do you find these things out?"

"Just because I am not like Mayuri does not mean that I do not research things, I am simply... kinder about how I do it. I, along with my subordinates, spend my time meditating."

"Meditating?"

"For lack of a better term, I admit. Meditating is not the best word to use. I spend my time feeling. The Royal Realm is a very different place than people suspect, very different than any of the other four realms. The Royal Realm is devoted to peace, which is how we select our recruits—not how much they fight, but how much they like to fight, which is why Kenpachi Zaraki will never be recruited. We have no need here for a warmonger.

"Caregivers have the most important job here in the Royal Realm—it is our job to understand everything. In that way, we are researchers. However, we spend our time observing and understanding the environment around us rather than offending and contaminating it as the Gotei 13 Captains do.

"The other part of out duties is to understand how to manipulate the things we observe. For example, I am the most skilled person in the Royal Realm at manipulating souls. Not Soul Powers, but Souls themselves. Each person who is labeled as a caregiver, and, as such, each caregiver has a rank based on what they have the best control over. I am the Chief Caregiver, meaning that I am only one rank below the rank of the Royal Family—if the family was to adopt any time soon, the main candidates would be myself and the other four Chief Caregivers. The current king was a Caregiver, a long time before I came here."

She stopped. She hoped he understood, because there was no better way that she could explain it. The circumstances had changed; She had rank and power. In a straight out fight, Orihime would win, hands down. She could crush him.

"Why was I recruited, then?" He asked. "It's not as if I am and good at thinking and manipulating, only fighting. And it's not like I get along with people particularly well."

She sighed. Now came the hard part, where she had to maintain the facade that the two of them had never met. "I have no idea, Kurosaki. I am not the one who recruited you, that was the Head Captain. He must have seen what we need here in you.

"I should tell you, as well, Kurosaki, that there are positions here in the Royal Realm besides that of being a Caregiver; Caregivers are simply the most important. There are many things that you may become besides the position that I have. Please do not feel any drive to become something that you are not in your own mind—I am a Caregiver because it is something that I am naturally able to do better than most. If you have other natural talents, then that it where you will be needed."

There, she thought. That sounded cold enough, detached. She still sounded like a superior to him, and he would not suspect any familiarity between the two of them.

It was sad that she had to do this. Usually, the recruits loved her. She hated having to be so cold to somebody who, as far as he was aware, had never met her. Had it been any other person, she would have described her actions as heartbreaking. With Ichigo, though, the word didn't even begin the road of accuracy to describe her feelings on the matter.

They continued on in silence, stopping only to rest when the night was too dark for the larger dinosaurs to come out. She refused to allow herself to fall asleep, insisting on staying awake and keeping guard. She didn't want to wake up to find this a dream, nor did she want him to hear her talking in her sleep, one of the few habits that had not left her since she had been alive. She could say some things that were incriminating, to say the least.

She was confused. She was scared. There were another two days of travel before the two of them would be back at the palace, and she could not go that long without sleep. She would have to get some shut-eye in, or else she would collapse, and she could not allow that to happen. And she could not count on her Nakama to help her, they could not cure exhaustion.

She sighed and looked over at his sleeping form. In sleep, his expression was changed, gone from the line that she had seen him wear earlier, and instead changed to an expression that was completely devoid of his mind's influence—something that Orihime could only describe as the epitome of peace. He still liked to sleep on his back, she noticed. She had only seen him asleep twice before. The second time had been in Soul Society, a long time ago. The two of them had been there to be witnesses to Rukia's promotion to the rank of vice-captain. It was a big deal, for Byakuya at least, to let her take the responsibility, but the truth of the matter was that everybody else was gone, dead. There was nobody left to take the position, and Rukia was brave and capable. Soul Society was still not a happy place, by any means, and there was a lot of fear.

The two of them had, before entering the Seireitei, stayed a night with Kukaku Shiba, and had been given a single room. Ichigo had tried to sleep outside, but Orihime hadn't let him, saying that she should sleep outside. The whole situation had simply become ridiculous to the point where Ganju had come into to tell them to just shut up and go to sleep, which Ichigo had done. Orihime, however, found herself unable to sleep the entire night, and instead found herself staring at him despite herself. She had thought the same thing them, that he was beautiful and peaceful.

Back in the forrest, Orihime's eyes were burning. Coming back to her senses, she realized why—she had been staring, her eyes open for a long time, simply watching him breath in and out. He was so... beautiful. It was a strange thing to say about man, but it was true about him; he was beautiful. He was a work of art, a marble stature that had been carved by masters, painted by artisans, and brought to life through the very breath of the Gods. He was art, in mind, body, and soul. In every way, he was beautiful.

He always had been.

Another hour went by like this, Orihime sinking into memories of the past and dreams that were no longer possible, all revolving around the man before her, before he woke up. He gave very little warning that he was about to move, leaving her with only a few moments to look away before his stirring gave way to his opening eye. He looked around, confused as to where he was for the moment, before he saw her, apparently looking towards the sky as it began to lighten—they would have to start moving soon, she knew.

Never looking over at Ichigo, Orihime spoke. "We'll have to leave soon. It's good you woke up on your own, I hate waking up people who are asleep."

He got to his feet, stretching out his hamstrings. He called out his readiness, and the two of them continued on their way, running through the treetops.

The second night was difficult. She nearly fell asleep that night, only keeping awake through physical workouts. She was able to keep herself active until he woke himself up again, and they were on their way.

It wasn't until that afternoon that any significant conversation was restarted. "Why are we running, Inoue? Shouldn't we be using Shunpo? I thought it was faster."

Shit.

She had no idea what to say. What could she say? The truth? No, at least not all of it. What lie would seem plausible? Something about the world that he wouldn't know yet, something about the affects of Shunpo... She could tell him that it was a health risk, but if he could run like this and talk in the meanwhile, he wouldn't but the excuse of being physically unable.

She was out of time, she had to say something.

"I prefer to go without Shunpo," she said. "I try to humble myself by not showing off in that way. Shunpo is not necessary in this place, and I prefer to run. It is also more physically challenging to run for three days than to Shunpo for two. We are not expected for another two days, and we will be there tomorrow, a day early. There is no point in getting there so early, and I do not get to go outside of the palace very often. Any objections?"

There were none. Orihime was relieved.

A truthful answer. Not entirely truthful, she thought, but close enough to be able to get away with. She did want to stay humble, in comparison to him. She did want the workout, to make herself stronger. And they weren't expected for another two days, and they would be there at around noon tomorrow.

They kept running, running beyond the lengths of human endurance. But then, they weren't humans, were they? Not anymore. No, they would never be human again, Orihime mused. It was sad that even in death, she was unable to be free, to rest in peace.

She found herself wishing, as she had so often in the past, that this was not true. She wished that she had been allowed to just succumb to blackness when she died, to be senseless and oblivious, to not exist, just to avoid this pain, of being to close to him, but farther than anybody would ever understand. He didn't remember her, not even a little bit. It was a good thing for him, and she knew that, and was thankful.

Nevertheless, she still found herself trying to run faster than him, just so that he wouldn't be able to see her face and the tears threatening to force themselves to be seen for the first time in two hundred years.