A/N: Hello again! Hard to believe that a month or two hasn't passed yet and there's already an update, eh? LOL (although I can't promise the next one will come as quickly)
As always, thank you for your continued reading of this fanfic! I am really grateful for your support, and your comments and speculations do give me something to think over while writing.
For those wondering why Ulquiorra was following Grimmjow in chapter 12's flashback, I hope you'll have fun with the answer here as I had while writing it XD
Flashback order: 14, 2, 9, 13, 17, 3, 15, 11, 8, 7, 6, 5, 12, 4, 10, 16.
Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Kubo Tite.
Chapter 19: Missing
Side by side, the two boats traveled down the river as morning spread out against the sky. Blinking out their lights little by little, the stars disappeared, and only the gibbous moon was left, plump and still bright in the early morning light.
"So where are we headed to, if you don't mind my asking?" The God of Invention and Knowledge gave her a curious look.
"To Karakura," responded Orihime.
"The village where you came from?"
"Yes."
"How fascinating. I must admit that it's been a long time since I traveled into the mortal world. I'm sure it's seen a lot of changes. Are you thinking of visiting anyone in particular?"
"No." She shook her head. "My friends and my brother are dead."
"Ah, I'm sorry to hear that. So then, the purpose of this visit is?"
"I wanted to see how the rest of the villagers have been faring since the plague."
"How kind."
She peered at him puzzledly, wondering if beneath those words he was being sarcastic. But he only stared back, eyes wide and blinking innocently at her continued perusal. Turning away, she sighed, speculating on how much longer it would be before they would reach her village.
"If you don't mind my prying, how come you're going there by yourself? Is this a test of trust between husband and wife?"
She thought for a moment. Maybe it is, she answered in her head. Another sample of exchange in the series of exchanges that had become her life. Another notch to add to the bartering system.
"Is that all there is in the lives of gods?" mumbled Orihime.
"What is?"
She was shaken from her reverie, seeing the god's curious expression. But it was something that had been nagging at her as she tried to wrap her mind around all that she'd learned from the Death God earlier.
"Trading," answered she after a few seconds of gathering her thoughts. At the god's questioning look, she elaborated, "I just learned today the reason why I came to be the bride of the Death God. It was the product of a series of trades: first between him and the Goddess of Autumn, and then between him and the God of Despair. I have to admit that I never thought that gods would ever play with my life like that."
"I see," said Kisuke thoughtfully. "It's all symbiosis, really. Humans do it as well, though not quite to the same extent of affecting the macrocosm as our game-play."
"Game-play," parroted she derisively.
"You must understand that it's simply how we gods are. I make no apologies for how we spend our time, as callous as it may be to you. It is how we function; at least every god had played at some point in their lives. And—" he held up a finger to stop her interjection, "—it could have as dire a consequence for us as it is for humans.
"Take for example Mr Death himself. Once upon a time the Night God held a monopoly over the sky. But clouds covered the stars one time and it caused fear upon mortals, and so the Death God took it upon himself to sacrifice his heart so that the night wouldn't be so dark. You can just imagine how that had hurt the pride of the God of Night, and as exchange for such a trespass he asked the Death God to keep his heart for one night out of the month.
"The affairs of gods are much like those of humans, only we have a much broader effect over the world. It may be hard to accept, but it is your prerogative to do so or not. We simply are." He shrugged, a different glint gleaming in his eyes that made her instantly cautious. "You said that there had been a bargain between Ichigo and the God of Despair. May I ask what that bargain entailed?"
Orihime eyed him suspiciously as she chose her words. "The Death God asked him to send a vision to the elders of my village about sacrificing me."
"And what did the God of Despair get in return?"
She frowned, only now realizing the Death God hadn't given her that information. Did he purposefully omit it? Maybe he deemed that it wasn't that important, and had no bearing upon what was between him and her.
"I don't know," replied she after a fashion.
"Hmm." Kisuke began to fan himself. "I surmise that it should be something interesting."
"What is?" She couldn't help asking.
"What Ulquiorra wanted in return."
"How so?"
Kisuke smiled. "The God of Despair is a rather curious fellow. You will never find one more inquisitive than he, not even us Knowledge Gods. He lacks a heart, you see, and it's what prevents him from fully coming to understand what it is he wants to know. The feel of things, not just an intellectual comprehension of things.
"There is one instance wherein the God of Destruction went to him to ask for a vision. Grimmjow wanted to know how much of the mortal world will fall under his dominion. Ulquiorra gave him a vision of the world falling to war and natural disasters, destruction everywhere. Even so, this did not satisfy Grimmjow, but the vision was given and all that was left was for his end of the bargain."
"Well, what did the God of Despair ask for?"
Kisuke's smile grew. "His stomach."
Orihime blinked. "The God of Destruction's stomach?"
The God of Invention and Knowledge nodded eagerly. "You see, Ulquiorra came to the conclusion that this feeling of greed came from Grimmjow's belly. He wanted to understand whether this penchant for craving destruction would be whetted at its removal. Grimmjow, on the other hand, was against this idea and reneged on his payment. A fight broke out between them, lasting four days and four nights, with the God of Despair winning and purposely acquiring his due. Up to this day, if you should meet the God of Destruction, you will find a gaping hole where his stomach used to be, and the God of Despair occasionally following him to see if there had been any changes in his appetite for destruction."
She could only gape as the god finished his tale. "I've never heard of that story," she admitted.
"You will find that not all of the goings-on of gods' lives are chronicled by the Scribes for humans to read. We have to keep up a certain image, after all."
"I can see that."
The god unfolded his legs and pillowed his head in his arms as he laid down in the boat, pulling the hood over his eyes with a chuckle. A wry smile curled her lips as she pondered his words, and huddled herself deeper within the cloak.
She could attest to the fact that the Death God had not given his stomach to the God of Despair as payment, even as a blush permeated her cheeks. She couldn't even begin to wonder what her husband gave to the god in return for the service rendered, but it mustn't have been as controversial or extraordinary, for surely the other gods would have known about it. Ichigo seemed complete, with no parts missing, and if the transaction was dire, then he would have informed everyone about it, right?
The sun was overhead, bright and warm. There was a strangeness in the air, as though it had become heavy, and Orihime had come to realize that it had been a long while since she'd last seen a stone dock that led to the palace of a god. Had they already made their way from the realm of gods to the mortal world?
She still was not sure how it worked, but ahead, she could make out weeping willows that swept their leaves on the water. Already here? she thought, her throat suddenly dry as she recognized the familiar trees where she and her friends used to play around in when they were younger.
"Ara, I think we've reached our destination," said the god as he closed his fan.
Orihime looked around, apprehension suddenly filling her at the familiar sight and smell of her village nearby. The boats docked themselves at the bank of the river, and the God of Invention and Knowledge assisted her from hers. The woods adjacent to the river were sparse, a short walk taking them to the road leading into the heart of the village.
It seemed so long ago that last she was here, the atmosphere stuffed with the air of solemnity. The road was eroded with the tracks of carts that had come and gone, and little by little she was overcome by nostalgia.
A small herd of cattle grazed on the field to their right, and she stopped to lean on the fence. "There, just over those trees," she pointed as the god stood beside her, "is the Mizushima farm. Seeing this, I just remembered that my friend, Tatsuki, and I used to tend to the animals here until I was old enough to apprentice myself to the baker in the village square." She swallowed as her eyes misted, and she blinked her lids rapidly to keep the tears at bay even as her voice broke. "It looks the same, but it's so different." She shook her head as her lips trembled. "I don't know why I was expecting to hear her voice just now."
Urahara stood off to the side quietly, letting her have her moment.
She sniffed as she composed herself, wiping at the stray tear on the corner of her eye, gave him a tremulous smile as she began to proceed down the road once more.
"I suppose this used to be a very lively place once," said the god conversationally.
She nodded. "It wasn't big, but it was bustling. It was a happy place to live in, until..."
"Of course."
The fields began to make way to houses, clustering closer together as they neared the village square. Upon reaching it, she noticed that it had been cleaned, the decorations from several weeks ago that had been abandoned at the onset of the plague had been taken down.
Every step filled her with trepidation. How would they react when they saw her? What would she say to them?
There weren't many people out on the square; about five children played by the fountain, and she gave a small wave, frowning when they seemed to ignore her. I guess they're too busy, she thought.
Wafting from the open door of the bakery where she used to work was the smell of fresh bread, and she inhaled delightedly, skipping over to peer through the entrance, stopping herself from colliding against the figure that was stepping out, standing stiffly in surprise when that person walked right through her.
"Eh? EHH?" Orihime turned and eyed the figure's back, watching him kick at the ball that the children had been playing with. "H-he, th-that was Shishi-Sushigawara and, and, he w-walked—" she sputtered to the God of Knowledge and Invention as she pointed.
"Yes, he did," agreed Urahara nonchalantly.
She could only gape in wonder, frowning as a thought struck her. "Am I invisible?"
"We are, yes."
Her frown deepened. "Is it because of this cloak?"
"No, the cloaks only leave us undetectable to other gods."
"Then how—? Why—?"
"In the mortal's world, we gods lack corporeal substance. We are merely spirits. Some of these humans, those with a strong inclination, or what's called a 'sixth sense', would be able to sense our presence. Only the gods with the power of transformation are able to physically manifest themselves and interact with those who dwell here.
"The opposite is true for humans who are taken into the realm of gods, as I'm sure you know, having experienced it yourself."
A sigh of disappointment escaped her. "Why didn't you tell me about it before?"
"It's simple: you never asked me."
She stared at him in disbelief, shaking her head.
She started as laughter broke out from the inn next door, finding most of the remaining population gathered at the bar. On seeing this familiar sight, a sense of relief came over her. This was how it was back then: the villagers gathering for a meal and drink at any time of the day, spreading gossip and all kinds of goings-on within the village and the surrounding towns.
Fast footsteps on the cobblestones made her turn, and she recognized the plump woman as the baker she had been apprenticed to when she lived here. Joy filled Orihime, but she couldn't help the feeling of displacement that wracked her body when the running woman passed through her to burst through the open doorway.
"There you are, Misato!" she greeted after peering through the small crowd.
The bespectacled woman she addressed stood when her friend waved at her from the door. "What is it, Kyoko?"
"Have you heard about the Asano girl?"
Asano girl? wondered Orihime, unable to help feeling chagrined at being able to eavesdrop undetected. That's Keigo's older sister, she noted, hoping that there was nothing wrong with her. As with Orihime, Mizuho Asano was the only one of her family who had survived the plague and had been among the young women that the elders contemplated sacrificing before deciding on her through divine intervention.
"What about her?"
The baker waved her hands enthusiastically. "She's gone over to the next village to nab herself a husband."
"What?"
Kyoko nodded. "You remember that scary-looking bald man?"
Misato took off her glasses to wipe them at her sleeve, a bewildered look on her face. "The one with the elegant-looking male..." she cleared her throat and wiggled her eyebrows as she said the last word, "...companion?"
"Yes! Yes, that one."
Shaking her head as she put her glasses back on, Misato remarked, "Well, I wish that girl the best in putting herself between those two, if you know what I mean."
Orihime turned away, a small smile growing on her lips as the women's conversation continued. She knew that soon enough, this news would spread throughout what remained of the village, as other news like it had before.
Barring the fact that there were less people around, everything seemed to have gone back to how things used to be before the plague. Those who were spared had gradually been able to pick up the pieces of their lives, continuing on as was normal for them.
That's good, isn't it? she thought to herself. This is what I came for, what I wanted to see. To see them moving on with the rest of their lives, satisfied that the sacrifice had not been made in vain. That their hopes and their prayers were answered. Now they all lived for those who have passed on.
She closed her eyes as the children ran right through her with their ball, shouting and laughing as they chased each other around the square. Once upon a time, those children had been her and her friends, gallivanting through the square, through each other's houses, through the woods and fields.
And now, here she stood, a mere speck in the scenery, no longer a part of the place she had called home since her brother brought them to live here all those years ago.
I don't belong here anymore.
"'You will go beyond,'" she muttered.
"Pardon?"
She jumped as Urahara suddenly spoke up beside her, putting a hand over her chest as she eyed him warily. He raised his eyebrows at her in question, and she felt inclined to answer. "It's something a fortune teller once told me."
"'Go beyond?' Are those the very words this fortune teller said?"
"Yes. Why?"
"For gods, 'going beyond' is a very specific event. I myself have gone beyond when I was only a child." He looked up at the sky fondly, cupping his hand as though to capture the sun. "Alas, that was so very long ago, I hardly remember it."
She tucked her hair behind her ears as she pondered his words. More and more, she felt as though realization was being hammered upon her head. She felt as though she had gone so far beyond even what she was able to comprehend, and as she ran her gaze across the familiar buildings, loss filled her, her feet taking her down a side lane to leave the god to his own curiosities, passing by rows of squat houses with thatched roofs, stopping in front of one that even now still smelled of home to her. Her eyes stung as the scent hit her nostrils, and she couldn't help the cry that broke out of her when she found that she couldn't touch the handle of the door. She was about to stamp her fists on the wooden entrance when she found herself staggering in right through with the force of her frustration, the door remaining unbroken.
Orihime stared as she straightened herself. Inside was as she had left it: the kettle and pans in their shelves gathering dust in the kitchen, the plants by the windows that had begun to wilt, the hearth devoid of warmth or coals, and the armchairs in front of it cold and lonely. She used to sit with her brother there as she mended his clothes while he read her the same stories from his book. Two bedrooms were in the back, one for each of them, as homely and as empty as the rest of the house.
She entered her old bedroom, her hand running along the wall, at the small side table, and at the dusty bedspread. Her pink teddy bear, Enraku, occupied its usual special place by her pillow. It had been a gift from Sora the first time they saw the traveling market arrive at their village. She sniffed as she was overcome by the hopeless yearning to wrap her arms around it. Her hand passing through its soft, fuzzy fur showed her the futility of her wish.
Everything seemed so small now. She never thought she would ever be in this place again, and standing there, even as her senses were assaulted with memories, she felt as though they were all someone else's, a past she could never regain.
It settled deep in her heart as she turned, walking through the door as though it was not there barring her way to the outside, the fact that she truly was no longer part of this world.
APPENDIX
Orihime - formerly a human, now a goddess by association for marrying a god
Urahara - God of Knowledge and Invention
Ulquiorra - God of Despair and Visions
Grimmjow - God of Destruction
Thanks for reading :)
Oct/2011