A/N: I'm back in the game...I think. Hopefully I didn't just jinxed it ^^; Thank you once again for all your fanta-bulous thoughts/comments/speculations :)
To those who have been wondering who the other speaker is in last chapter's flashback, you'll find out in this one. Also, Kubo-drawn oranges to those who've guessed right about a certain character's identity (blink and you'll miss it :P ). Rangiku and Isshin are doing the can-can as kudos to you :D
Flashback order: 2, 3, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4.
The emboldened number is the current chapter. They're not written chronologically because I make this fic up as I go ^^;
Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo Tite.
Chapter 8: Within
Back and forth through the grandeur of the quarters granted to her, she paced.
She felt suffocated.
The house of the God of Death seemed to her to be a giant mausoleum, the empty halls devoid of anything living in contrast to the burst of life and colour beyond its walls.
She stared out the balcony doors and felt a pang of jealousy at the camaraderie between the house's other tenants. She knew they would have welcomed her if she hadn't incited the Death God in her vendetta against the village of Karakura. They were, in their own way, protective of their friend, and she found it an admirable trait.
All gods knew the rule of the game: never meddle in another god's punishment of a mortal unless that god asked for it. Calling on the God of Death was always the last resort, and that last resort entailed the end of the object of the punishment's life.
But that village and that girl had done something that she just could not forgive, and her power and capacity as the Goddess of Autumn limited her as it would only allow her to withhold and spoil their fall harvest. And even then, it wouldn't be a guarantee of their deaths, only hardship and starvation.
The Death God wasn't the only option, however. She had the God of Destruction to approach as the penultimate alternative should the former have declined her. But now, she was beginning to wonder if going to the God of Destruction first would have been the wiser and better choice.
Of their own volition, she found her feet leading her out and down the balcony steps, towards the gazebo by the lake where the God of Archery as well as the Goddess of Snow and her husband dined under the crepuscular sky. The high sculptured hedges at the edge of the labyrinth garden hid her as she approached them, her steps slowing as she heard their voices.
"I'll talk to him about it," said the lone female.
"I don't really think that would make any difference," answered the bespectacled god dubiously.
"It's a man thing," added the newly-made god. "We know when we're being used, especially if it's by women."
"Nonetheless," decreed Rukia, "I think it bears pointing out to him. It may be a 'man' thing, but I know how stupid you guys can be when it comes to women. So I'll tell him how she's only using him, and maybe he'll finally wake up or somethi―ow!" She rubbed the leg that the God of Archery had kicked under the table, frowning at the head tilts and eye rolls he was sending her, turning her head only to spy one of the objects of their conversation.
"Good evening," greeted the Goddess of Autumn civilly, not letting on that she had heard them.
They chorused the greeting back to her in varying states of enthusiasm and interest, mostly the lack of.
"Mind if I join you?"
There was a pregnant pause, and it gave birth to a silence more loaded with tension as they looked at each other, before the red-haired god by an unspoken vote acquiesced, "Go ahead." And with a wave of a hand, a chair and an extra set of dinnerware appeared.
She gave him a smile as she sat, and served herself. The uncomfortable silence suffused through the air as everyone ate their meal, none of them seeming to want to get a conversation going.
After minutes that seemed like hours flew, she cleared her throat. "Ichigo seems to be coming home much later in the last little while."
The three before her all stopped midway through what they were doing and stared at her. The Goddess of Snow set down her fork rather carefully, leaned back in her seat and shrugged.
"It shouldn't be that surprising," replied she. "His workload has suddenly increased. Sending out a plague does that."
The Goddess of Autumn's cup halted near her mouth, and she looked over the rim and into the indigo eyes of the Snow Goddess across from her, not at all missing the jab directed at her. Frost started seeping in through the table and its accoutrements as autumn leaves began to fly through the air.
"Should you be so territorial of the Death God, Rukia? With your husband sitting right beside you?"
"Is that the best you can come up with, Senna? It seems to me that you don't really have much to offer. At all."
The table split from beneath, throwing the men and dishes to the side as both goddesses sprang up, each of their katana at the ready.
"Whoa! Um, ladies, we should all calm down―" began Renji.
"This isn't really the place for this―" said Uryu at the same time.
"Stay out of this!" Both the goddesses barked in unison.
A weight descended upon their blades as the God of Death enclosed his clawed hands upon each, fearsome and formidable in his white form, expression unreadable beneath the mask.
"Not in my domain," uttered he in a quiet voice edged with danger, looking at each of them from the corner of his eyes as he lifted his hold from their weapons.
The goddesses slowly retracted, dematerializing their blades, their eyes not leaving the other's.
"I need to speak to you," directed Rukia to the Death God, even as her stare bore into the Goddess of Autumn's gaze. "It's about an important matter."
The Death God eyed her, and then at the other. "Inside." He turned, white hair waving in the air as he began to transform.
"I'm sure what you have to tell me will be very enlightening."
The day, when it finally arrived, saw the God of Life and the Fertility Goddess solemnly and not quite soberly having breakfast together. The rest of the gods were in varying states of somnolence upon the table amid goblets and jugs of wine, as well as the feast of the morning meal laid out on its surface.
Their dining was disturbed by the presence of the God of Death, in his regalia reserved for special occasions, long orange hair flowing behind him with his white mask perched on top of his head.
"Two weeks, and that's all," said Ichigo.
The two not-fully-awake occupants turned to him in confusion. His father, who seemed to have retained his propensity for sober thought, gave the intelligent reply, "Huh?"
"We're extending our visit for a fortnight only," elaborated the Death God. "No more and no le―" He stopped and thought for a moment. "It will be less if you piss me off."
The two gods looked at him and then at each other, repeating the action thrice more before rising in unison, screaming, jumping, and hugging each other.
"It worked! It worked!" exclaimed Rangiku, face flushing with joy.
"It worked! It worked!" repeated Isshin. "...Wait―what worked?"
"The mead! I gave Orihime something to drink and she must have performed really well and now we get to keep her!"
"Haha!" hollered Isshin as he twirled Rangiku in the air.
"So it's you!" bellowed the Death God, pulling his mask over his face, and the sight of him stopped the two mid-joy. "You're the one who drugged her."
The Fertility Goddess cowered behind his father and peeked over his shoulder. "You enjoyed it, didn't you? I made sure to instruct her how to do them magnificently, and from the way the walls had been ringing out your pleasure―"
"Shut up!"
"―Oh, you can't deny it! Is that why you're hiding beneath the mask? Because you're too embarrassed? I, as the Goddess of Love, am very proud that the mead is very effective in making her an expert―"
"Shut Up!"
"―No need to be coy! It's a natural reaction, especially given your wife's assets―"
"SHUT UP, AND STOP TEACHING HER STUFF LIKE THAT! ACTUALLY, DON'T EVER COME NEAR HER. AT ALL. EVER."
The goddess laughed. "You're so cute, acting like you didn't like it."
"Wait, wait," called out Isshin, holding his hands out. "You mean...don't tell me...this means that...in due time...I will have my first grandchild? Haha!" He grabbed Rangiku once more and danced a jig with her, both of them prancing around in their excitement, having entirely forgotten about the God of Death.
Ichigo growled, but no matter how much he glowered the elder gods continued to ignore him. Shaking his head, knowing how futile an attempt to further a serious confrontation with them would be, he left to fulfil the day's duties, transforming into his white form as he went. It's only a fortnight, he thought as he stomped off, taking comfort in the fact that it wouldn't be the whole month his father originally asked of him.
Arms hooked together as they kicked their legs in the air, Isshin said, "We must summon the Scribes. This is a momentous event and they should be here to chronicle it."
"Definitely," answered Rangiku. "We should hold another banquet. I can't remember how long fertilization usually takes place in humans, but the seed shouldn't take too long to take root."
Isshin stopped, a frown wiping the joy from his features, cupping his chin as he thoughtfully said, "Her being a human is a bit problematic…"
"What do you mean?" asked the Goddess of Fertility as she crossed her arms, displeased at the sudden shift in mood.
He turned to face her. "We really should call on the Scribes. I'm pretty sure no human had ever been successful in bearing a god's offspring. But I know they'll be able to tell us with certainty."
"Oh, that is so," remembered Rangiku, sobering at the thought. And then, eyes widening as she grabbed Isshin's shoulders, she said, "Why don't we grant her godhood? That should work, right? If we made her a god, she would be able to succeed? And besides, her marriage to a god automatically entitles her to it."
"Hmm, you've got me there," replied Isshin, disappointment clouding his face as he muttered, "Damn, I wish I'd thought of that first." He shrugged, and then smiling once more, he took a hold of Rangiku's waist and led her to waltz around the dining room. "It's time to make preparations. I'm sure my son wouldn't mind our meddling."
The hall rang with their joyful laughter.
Orihime stirred, eyes blearily opening, the last words the Death God spoke to her before he left for the day tickling the edge of her mind. A deep exhale deflated her chest as she remembered that he'd asked whether she wouldn't mind extending their visit for a couple of weeks. Her heart swelled at his thoughtfulness of even asking her, even though she could tell he would rather cut the visit short.
She turned to her side and burrowed deeper beneath the covers, the pillow her head laid in awashed with the Death God's scent. It was the first such morning that she awoke alone since she came to him as a sacrifice. Stroking the indentation made by his head, she closed her eyes tightly at the memory of last night.
She didn't know how she should feel about him. She had been relieved that he had remained silent, that what ever it was he felt had been left unspoken. Because with a look, at a touch, she felt herself ever more falling deeper and falling faster. Always yearning when he was away, always wanting when he was near. She didn't think she'd ever grow accustomed to the way her heart palpitated at the thought of him. And she didn't yet want to succumb to these feelings, for what else would be left of her? For now, even though she was only willing to relinquish her body and not her full heart, that ought to be enough...right?
She released a stilted, shuddering exhale. She must bury her feelings deep; she mustn't show an ounce or an inkling of it. Despite her lack of emotional control, she had to be strong. He must never know how much she loved him.
Because the outcome of her loving someone was to lose them.
Orihime finally left the chamber past the lunch hour. As she wandered down the vast corridors in search of the other occupants and guests, arrows formed out of the mosaic tiles on the walls and the floor, directing her to the dining room where some of the sober-by-this-hour gods mingled.
Rukia saw her first and made her way to greet her. "You're finally up. Come." The Goddess of Snow took her by the arm and led her to the large table. "Help yourself," she invited as she bit into an apple, looking around as Orihime took a plate and began to fill it.
"Is that all you're having?" asked the young woman as she took a bite from a piece of bread.
"Oh, I already ate earlier. But thanks for asking." Rukia sidled close to her and informed her in a hushed voice, "There's been talk of granting you godhood."
Orihime sprayed crumbs of half-chewed bread out of surprise, patting her chest as she choked and tapped around for a drink. Her hand encountered a goblet and she pulled it up to her lips, downing the liquid in one gulp.
"What? Why?" asked she when she could finally manage, her heart pulsating in what seemed to be a million beats per minute.
"For the simple reason that you married a god. It comes with the territory, as it were. It was the same with Renji."
"A god…" mumbled Orihime, still quite disbelieving of what she had heard. That sounded too preposterous. Her, to be made a goddess? It was one thing for her to be the bride of the Death God, but…for her to…? She just couldn't fathom it. "Would I be a god of anything?"
"No," answered Rukia. "You don't have to preside over anything. It's really just an honourary title. You'll be a goddess by association."
"I-I-I think I need to sit." The floor rippled and a chair materialized right behind Orihime just when her legs gave underneath her. Surprised, she looked down, and was grateful that it was there. She slid her hands back and forth along the armrests, starting to pant with panic. "I-I don't think I'm ready for this."
"It's okay," comforted Rukia, rubbing her back. "Just breathe. In. Out. That's good. In. Out. It's alright to be nervous. And I know there's also talk of you being expectant soon."
"Expectant?"
"With child."
Orihime stared at her, blinking numbly as her breathing seemed to stop. Of course it had passed through her mind that she would soon find herself pregnant; it only stood to reason having a seemingly insatiable husband. Yet thinking about it was different from having to face the actuality of it. And she had to wonder if the gods really were omniscient as they seemed to be in the know of any happenings regarding her. Not for the first time, she was hit with the reality that she was merely a pawn in these gods' game; a lone figure in an empty chessboard that everyone strove to control.
And if she were to be made a god, would she then regain control of her own life? Twice now she had been held under an uncontrollable compulsion to obey the goddesses' commands and requests: the first time with the Goddess of Snow asking her to pour more wine into her cup and the other just last night when the Goddess of Love and Fertility commanded her to drink the mead. She had felt helpless in the absolute need to obey. Maybe accepting their offer of godhood wouldn't be such a terrible idea if it would stop her from feeling like she'd suddenly lost her will when a god ordered her to do something.
Most important of all: was the Death God aware of this matter of granting her godhood? Why hadn't he said anything about it?
She felt really faint. Everything seemed to be piling on her, and she didn't know if she could take any more surprises. She was starting to wonder if agreeing to stay here among the other gods for another couple of weeks was a good idea. A pang of longing for the Death God began to consume her.
"Are you alright, Orihime? You've spaced out..."
She blinked. She opened her mouth to reply but nothing came out. She cleared her throat. "Yes, yes, I'm fine, thank you. I'm going to go lie down, I think. Yes, that would be good."
"But you've barely eaten."
"Oh no, it's alright, it's fine, it's okay, really." She rubbed the back of head, chuckling, as she rose from the chair. She left, the Snow Goddess watching her with a puzzled expression.
Orihime really had no idea what was in store for her when she agreed to the sacrifice. It boggled her mind just thinking about how her life had drastically changed. Being the bride of the God of Death wasn't at all what she was expecting, and it wasn't even as though she was expecting anything at all. And all these things happening to her...they seemed too good to be true. As a mere pawn, she wondered what kind of end was in store for her.
APPENDIX
Ichigo - God of Death and the Moon
Isshin - God of Life
Rangiku - Goddess of Love and Fertility
Scribes - servants to the gods among whose duties include the recording of the gods' lives to distribute as stories to humans
Rukia - Goddess of Snow and the Arts
Mystery Woman - Goddess of Autumn
Thanks for reading :)
Jan/2011