A/N: Thanks once again for letting me know you're still following this fic, my very best beloveds :)

Flashback order: 2, 9, 3, 11, 8, 7, 6, 5, 12, 4, 10.
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 12: Wherefore

The force of the Cero had blown the God of Destruction away, but he knew, even as he watched the panther-god disintegrate, that it was far from succumbing to death. For that, he would have to wait.

He panted, lowered to his knees, blood trickling from the cut that crumbled his mask. The only ounce of fear he felt was for his charge, and he turned, half-crawling over to the unconscious young woman.

He examined her, relieved to find nothing of note that indicated she had been hurt. At the most, she would blame her collapse on clumsiness caused by desperation as she sought out a way to alleviate the pain her brother was presently held by.

He rested his forehead by her shoulder with a sigh, feeling himself begin to heal, the scars and scratches made by the panther-god's claws closing up. Even through the relief, he felt prickled at the increased danger that now loomed over this human girl. He had been expecting the Goddess of Autumn to turn to another god and seek out their aid. And he was wise to keep vigil, but he couldn't stay watchful over Orihime like this forever, couldn't be everywhere at once. Soon the plague he sent would kill everyone in the village, and there were the rest of his duties to contend over.

As much as he was tempted to steal her away right now, he didn't want her to look at him as though he was a monster for doing so. He wanted it to be her choice, her own decision to come to him.

But how would he be able to manage that?

"Why?" Came a voice above him, even and emotionless despite the curiosity inherent in the question. "What is this?"

He sprung up, sword at the ready, and found despair staring back at him, blinking owlishly with its green gaze.

Tear tracks of jade and black furrowed brows belied the dispassionate expression on its marble countenance. "I, the God of Vision and Despair, see this, and I cannot fathom it. Are you not Death? Why do I sense that you want to claim this life for a purpose other than your function of death? Why save a life that is bound to die?"

"What are you doing here?" answered he instead with another question, wondering just how much of his actions of late had been noticed by the other gods. He would rather not have them spectating and speculating on his current interests, especially regarding this human girl. But knowing that he and the Goddess of Autumn parted on not so amiable terms, he couldn't help but be wary of whom else she would plead to aid her cause.

"To see. I followed the God of Destruction following this woman. Why do you follow her also?"

"Because," answered he without hesitance, "my heart told me to." An idea struck him. Unlike the other gods, he had never sought to strike a bargain with another; but facing Despair heightened the desperation that had been seeded in him. He could make use of its power over prescience and sight. For this, he was willing to pay any price.

"Your heart." It looked up at the sky. "Soon your heart will appear up there, and yet you can still feel it even when you're away from it. Up there, it told you to follow this woman. She is human."

"Yes."

"There is emptiness inside of me. You should be empty. That hole in your chest makes you empty, and yet you can still feel―"

"Ulquiorra."

At the sound of its name, the God of Despair directed its unblinking eyes back towards him.

"Would you, for me, send a vision to the remaining humans in the village beyond this forest?"

"A request from the God of Death?" The pale, winged god cocked its head to the side. "Its fulfilment will not be free, and it will be costly."

He lowered his eyes, nodding. "I know."

"Are you certain of this? Absolutely? Knowing the possibility of what it might take from you?"

"Yes. Yes, I am sure."

It blinked, green eyes watchful and exhibiting yet more questions. "'Why' becomes ever more loaded, and I am consumed by it. Why are you doing this? For what purpose? Is it because your heart is telling you to undertake these actions? Why is it incomprehensible to me?"

He raised his eyes once more to the god before him. Even as his own mind was entangled with the same questions, he couldn't help feeling a modicum of envy that the God of Despair was unable to be consumed by all the confusion and contradicting certainty that had taken hold of him since he'd first lain eyes upon the auburn-haired young woman called Orihime. How could one define something he himself had trouble rationalizing?

"Even your heart has no answer," it said at his prolonged silence. "What vision would you have me send?"

At the change in topic, he found himself grateful to have something more concrete to readily respond to. "An answer to their prayers: they have to know that there's hope for them, a way to free themselves from this death by plague. And like your vision, that hope itself has a price." He indicated to the woman at his feet. "A suggestion in a dream will be enough."

"The God of Despair giving hope? Absurd." It turned, hands in its pockets. The emotionless delivery of its words belied the affront it might have felt as its easy posture displayed its detachment from the matter they had been discussing. "For this request and the contradiction you'll have me perform, I will exact payment someday, God of Death. Know that I will collect before I will fall unto your dominion."

Alone now, the Death God's words rang inside her mind, incessant and echoing. Her heart had not stopped racing even as numbness settled over her. At the first fall of tears Orihime finally moved, pins and needles poking beneath the skin of the arm that she'd been leaning against during the span of several minutes from his impromptu confession and after his departure. She had not been expecting to hear those words; she'd frozen, wanting so much for him to retrieve them so that she could carry on with her denial.

Not for the first time, she wondered: why? Why her? They hardly knew each other, and there was a limit to how much she could accept. She'd never once imagined her married life to turn out this way. It was too surreal, and really, didn't these things happen only in stories? Maybe she was still on that boat, still asleep and trapped within this dream, living the absurdity of being the bride of death.

She collapsed upon the space where he had lain, still redolent with his scent, and she inhaled deeply, breaths heavy with the shuddering onslaught of yet more tears. Not knowing how else to proceed, she gave in and let them free, even as she tried to muffle her sobs on the rumpled sheet, curling her body tightly.

Despair encompassed her. Pain, acute and sharp, penetrated her heart. She wanted, more than anything, to believe. It surprised her how attuned she had become to his expressions and emotions. She could sense his feelings lurking, waiting to spring out, but still she wanted to stopper them...because if she accepted them, if she opened up her heart wholly, what would become of her? What would be left of her? How much of herself would be lost to love?

Orihime sprang from the bed and eroded a path from chamber door to balcony door, unable to clear his words from her mind. The silence of the room only served to amplify them. Stopping suddenly, she caught sight of the moon beyond the sheer curtains of the balcony. She bit her lip, reaching out a hand towards that sliver of silver in the sky, disbelief and denial warring for supremacy as she pondered the meaning of her own self-worth to be the one to have captured such a heart.

It was not easy to measure the Death God as a mere man, and one in love, at that. In shape and expression...these almost made it easy to overlook the Other in him, the aspect that was the moon and death.

Her hand lowered, and both clutched tightly at the fabric over her belly. Physically, she did not feel changed. All throughout the day she was told of the possibility that had started to grow within her, and she had been bombarded by all that it could entail. Foraying into the role of 'mother', a change that would bring about yet more change. Do this, they said, and this would happen. Do that, and that could happen. Choices that were easy for the gods to utter as the consequences would hardly touch them. It hammered home the fact the mettle of gods and humans were vastly different indeed.

"Orihime, I love you."

She closed her eyes as she beat her fists over her heart; yet again, she tasted salt at the corner of her mouth as fresh tracks trailed down her cheeks. Little by little over the last few weeks she had begun to open up her heart to the Death God. Those words that professed his feelings toward her...she had been dreading them, for it meant the surrender, wholly and unequivocally, of his entire being to her. As much as she willingly gave her body, she had not felt ready to give her entire self as readily and as easily as he had done.

With the knowledge that he was the cause of all the grievances that had befallen her, it was rather difficult. 'Why?' once more riddled her mind. What made him send the plague to her village? For all of her brother's preachings about the Death God's magnanimity, why had he caused death to almost everyone she knew so suddenly and out of the blue? What had they done to offend him? But she herself was afraid to voice these very questions, afraid to ask what became of Karakura after her departure, and could only hope that her sacrifice set them free from the plague.

And she mourned, as she had never allowed herself to before, for all the lives lost, seemingly from the capricious mood of the Death God.

She thought of her brother, of Tatsuki and the rest of her friends, of her neighbours, of the faces she used to greet and now would never again meet. Even through the sadness that encompassed her, Orihime was heartened to remember that their lives had been lived as fully as they could in their short time. There had not been too many grievances; and more importantly, there had been easy camaraderie and carefree laughter. As her tears began to subside, she could almost imagine Tatsuki gently patting her head as though to tell her there was nothing to fear, that it was fine for her to move on and cease to encumber herself with the past.

As much as she wished to reject the cessation of their lives, she had to live on for them. Death was change, and change was a natural part of life, however unexpected and unwelcome it might be. Love and motherhood were also parts of that cycle. And in the midst of all these changes, a new life had begun to form within her, a memorial to all the lives that had brightened her own when she was still in the mortal world. She and this new life gifted by the Death God would be the bearer of all of their memories.

As the last of the tears fell, she felt released, heart expanding at the realization of being requited. All these weeks, she had been bottling her feelings, taking everything that came her way in stride, never freeing her lamenting heart. Now, elation took root inside her and blossomed, and a small laughter escaped her as she directed a gaze full of hope towards the moon.

She was not quite ready yet, but she was getting there.

And now, more than anything, she wanted to bridge the chasm that grew so suddenly between them. She wanted to be with him. The Death God. Her Ichigo.

Orihime couldn't help giggling at the rush of silliness she felt. She sniffed, wiping her eyes, the skin beneath the dried tear tracks tight and taut. Clambering over to the adjacent bathroom, she decided to freshen herself before seeking out her husband.

She now had an answer to his question.

Resisting skipping down the corridor, Orihime peered through the doorway of one of the banquet halls where the gods have been sojourning for another long night. But finding no shock of orange hair amidst the crowd, she made ready to leave.

"Orihime! There you are. Come over here!" waved the Goddess of Love and Fertility. Rangiku seemed already inebriated, carousing among the cushions with the God of Invention and the Goddess of Cats.

Not for the first time, a compulsion to obey overcame her body, and she was hard-pressed to disregard it. Almost helplessly, she made her way over to their circle, settling herself down by the gods.

"A drink! A drink!" laughed the goddess, smiling brightly as the God of Invention handed a goblet over to Orihime.

"The merrier's the more! Hic!" exclaimed Yoruichi as she reached over to clink her cup against the newcomer's. "We were beginning to think that that boy won't be freeing you from his raging appetite any time soon. But I guess you've spent him, huh?" She gave her a wink while jabbing her with an elbow.

Orihime laughed nervously, wondering if she would ever get used to the teasing as she lifted the cup to her lips. A slight frown marred her brow as she caught sight of the green liquid inside, but she shrugged and took a sip. Despite its unappealing appearance, she found that it tasted sweet and crisp, like summer apples, and she couldn't help gulping down the rest.

"Woo, quite a drinker, eh?"

She felt a tingle down her spine, not at all unpleasant. While a headiness settled over her, she found that it brought with it a strange sensation. As she peered over her cup to roam her gaze through the crowd of gods, she was curious to find that they all seemed to emit some sort of pressure, unique to each of their individual spirit. The feeling was a kind of hyper-awareness, but not overwhelming in any manner, and if she concentrated she knew she could identify the gods in the next room or even find another in a different part of the house.

"Ah, that's the first time I've seen you drink without being commanded," said Rangiku as she reached over to refill Orihime's cup.

The latter was slightly disappointed to find it wasn't green, but thought better of it, afraid that her sudden heightened senses might get the better of her the more she drank the concoction that caused it.

"Well, go on, then, drink up. It's not what I gave you last night, if that's what you're worried about."

"Um," began the young woman after a small, careful sip, "I was just wondering if you've seen the Death God around?"

"Oh? I thought you were together since early this evening."

Orihime shook her head. "His father called him, and I haven't seen him since then."

"I met with him when he was summoned," Kisuke finally spoke, grey eyes veiled beneath the brim of his hat. Despite being hidden, she couldn't help but feel the weight of them upon her, seeming to observe her carefully. "But he had left the premises soon after."

"Oh." As the god uttered those words, she found herself easily and almost automatically reaching out with her mind, seeking out a tendril that would indicate where her husband might have gone.

"You're right," said Rangiku, head tilted to the side. "I don't feel him anywhere in here at all."

"Oh." The goddess's response, Orihime found, emphasized the lack of the Death God's presence inside the house of the God of Life. There was a void, gaping and hollow, within the house that had begun to mirror her within. Her earlier elation dissipated as she only now came to realize what his absence could mean.

After having been consumed by her own feelings, and recalling their time together earlier in their chamber, she began to see how hurt he must have been when she answered him in silence following his declaration. Comprehension dawned on her, of the notion that maybe gods and humans weren't so different after all, that it was only power that truly separated them. That they could suffer heartache just the same as a human, and that they could have a similar reaction to it. He must have left, wanting to get away from the merriment of the celebrations inside the house, away from her.

"Oh, do not be so disheartened, my dear. Come here." Rangiku, seeing her deflation, crawled over and enveloped Orihime in her arms, pulling the young woman's head to rest under her chin. "I'm sure he's around somewhere. Maybe some urgent business came up or something. No need to fret. But if you must, cry into my bosom."

Orihime released a sigh. Even though she could feel the telltale pinpricks of tears, they would not fall, frozen at the precipice of her lower lids. Numbly, she allowed herself to be coddled by the goddess, however unable to feel the comfort she provided, aware of the watchful gaze of the God of Invention but feeling detached when normally she would be self-conscious.

Inside her, there was only despair.

APPENDIX

Grimmjow - God of Destruction
Senna - Goddess of Autumn (filler character from Bleach: Memories of Nobody movie)
Ichigo - God of Death and the Moon
Ulquiorra - God of Despair and Visions
Rangiku - Goddess of Love and Fertility
Urahara - God Knowledge and Invention
Yoruichi - Goddess of Cats
Orihime - formerly a human

Thanks for reading :)
Feb/2011