They landed not half a second later in the center the Heavenly Gardens, transported just outside of the large maze she had spent many years hiding in as a young Goddess. She landed on top of him, her head bouncing three times off his shoulder as they skidded to a stop in the dirt. Around them, flowers and leaves rustled, as if agitated by the graceless landing.

No, it was not her finest landing in the slightest.

"What the fuck." Underneath her, Ichigo groaned, holding the back of his head.

Orihime pushed herself up to a sitting position and began batting dirt and grime off his clothing with her hands. Her own kimono, stained with dirt and grass, was the least of her concerns.

He is my responsibility, she scolded herself, at the same time noting his obvious bafflement. Again, the feeling of remorse overcame her. She had yet to explain what was going on, and from the growing glare on his face, she knew she only had a few moments to start.

"Where the fuck- "

His loud exclamation quickly halted as her hands slapped over his mouth. She glanced around, worried that they would be caught by the guards that frequented the Gardens. And after a moment of silence, where the guards didn't come thundering out of the bushes, her shoulders sagged with relief.

A large hand caught her wrists, wrenching them away from his mouth– which she now saw was set in a firm scowl - with surprising strength. She fought the very un-godly urge to squirm under his gaze.

"Where the fuck are, we?" He demanded, his grip tightening on her wrists, his eyes darted around the area. Cautious, yet she could see the awe hidden behind his eyes. And she knew why.

The Heavenly Gardens would be unlike anything he had ever seen, and more overwhelming than anything. It was a striking sight, even for many lesser Gods, with flowers the likes of which had never seen on Earth – and never would be. They ranged from all colors, all shapes, and all sizes. From tiny purple flowers the size of ones' thumb, to vibrant red ones well over the length of a man's arm. Many of the plants had been created by various Gods, either as a hobby or a pet project to ease boredom and were kept in the Gardens. The most beautiful and tame were closer to the Royal Palace, while the more dangerous specimens stayed safely tucked away beyond the maze. The grass underfoot was somehow too soft to feel like grass – at least in comparison to the grass on Earth. Trees of all shapes, sizes, and colors had been placed strategically throughout the gardens, varying just as much as the flowers. Some of them, her favorites, grew flowers of their own.

"Oi, I asked a question." His attention was on her again, unwavering.

She blinked owlishly at him for a moment, eyes then darting back and forth between his hands on her wrists and his firm gaze. And she wondered how she must look to him – ridiculous, as dirty as she was – certainly not at all like a Goddess. She scrambled for an explanation that would – hopefully – not shock him too severely.

"The Royal Realm?"

The look on his face told her that was not an acceptable answer, and she scrambled to come up a better answer that he would understand.

"Heaven?" She supplied, sounding equal parts sheepish as well as hopeful that he would accept this answer. Instead, he stared at her blankly, almost as if she had grown a second head, and she worried that she had chosen the worst conceivable way to answer.

"Heaven?" He repeated, his tone devoid of emotion.

She nodded rapidly, auburn hair bouncing around her face. And her concern grew as a play of expressions crossed his face. Disbelief, shock, anger, and finally…

His grip on her wrists loosened, a heavy look clouding his eyes. His shoulders slumped, and his head fell back to softly thump against the ground. He gazed up at the blue sky overhead through hooded eyelids.

"Then I'm… dead."

Acceptance.

Her newly freed hands folded together neatly on her lap, fingers intertwining as she bit the inside of her cheek. This was new to them both, and once more she felt a striking feeling of guilt for putting him in such a position. Her, a Goddess that was not supposed to ever have Shinki, and him – a new Shinki, nonetheless.

"Yes… you are no longer human."

His gaze remained locked on the sky, his lips twisted into a heavy frown.

"You… you have been given another chance; as my Sacred Treasure..." She supplied softly, watching his face for any sign of negative reaction and hoping some part of him might find solace in it. His brow furrowed in confusion, as there was no way he could know what being a Sacred Treasure was just yet, but she could also see he was taking her words seriously.

His cheeks darkened minutely after a minute, and he averted his gaze to the tall wall of the maze just a few yards away. And he stared at it for several long minutes, as if he were studying it.

"If that's true, and I really am dead… then who – what - are you then? What the hell is a Sacred Treasure and what does that mean exactly?"

She felt a small flicker of surprise at his clear acceptance of his situation.

She opened her mouth to reply, but before she could a sound rang out across the gardens. It was clear and held a single tone for several moments before fading slowly. It sounded much like a bell, but somehow more ethereal as it continued to roll through the realm. It rolled through her body, a familiar vibration right down to her bones. He sat upright, clearly startled by the feeling rolling through his muscles.

A small part of her marveled at the fact that someone aside from her – and her brother – could now feel it simply because he was connected to her. It was a sensation she had grown used to long ago, and no longer batted an eyelash toward, but surely it would have felt jarring to him. And they would continue to share so much more – if he wanted to stay with her, that is. She bit her lip thoughtfully, casting her gaze to the ground beside them – and then an idea struck her.

She faced him with a bright smile, her eyes crinkling into half-moons.

"Let me show you."

.

She knew it would be a task of its own, sneaking Ichigo into the Royal Palace – much less into her chambers. And she was very correct. It had taken far too long to sneak him through the long hallways, ducking around corners to avoid the guards patrolling.

His own confusion and utter bafflement at what was happening around him was only half the problem. The other half resided in the fact that he seemed completely unaware how much pure and raw power he exuded. It was like a waterfall the likes of which she had never seen, overflowing, and crashing without end. As a spirit it was like waving a beacon in the dark, beckoning other Gods to come and claim him. As a Shinki, he presented himself like a challenge. Something to overcome and overpower. Control. She would need to teach him how to control it properly, and soon.

Until then, she masked his presence with her own; something that took a surprising amount of effort to carry out. He absorbed her energy just by being in her presence, and it left her feeling strangely fatigued. And he didn't seem to be aware of it. It would be a constant struggle to keep him hidden until he could control himself.

She must have been making a dreadful expression because she caught Ichigo's gaze as they turned a corner. She hoped the smile she gave him was believable.

.

And yet, the struggle of stumbling through the Palace Hallways, from dragging his slack-jawed form away from grand portraits, statues, crossing the stone bridge unseen, and dodging patrolling guards; it was all well worth it. Particularly when he saw their destination; her favorite place in the Royal Realm. Her private Garden.

Located just outside of the Northern wing, her garden was not as extensive as the one surrounding the Palace. It did not have millions of species of plants, grasses, nor animals. It was a still quite a large area, square in shape, in the far back of the Northern wing. The grass was green, and soft. There were roses, bluebells, azaleas, and so many more earthen flowers organized into perfect placement. At the very center, lay a clear pool of water. It was easily several yards across and lined with smooth stones. Though no animals lived in her little pond, several lotus flowers had started to bloom on the surface. A tall tree stood two yards to its side, with long branches that wept with brilliant periwinkle blue flowers; something of her own creation.

Beside her, Ichigo stopped in his tracks at the sight, his jaw growing slack. And she felt no small amount of pride that he found her garden – her special place – stunning enough for him to stop walking and admire it. Or at least, she hoped that was the reason he stopped. A small part of her twisted with nerves; she wanted him to like it here.

She gazed back up at the skies, watching their hue slowly change as her brother prepared for her. There was little time for her to prepare. And so, she guided Ichigo over the grass by his wrist, urging him to sit down with little difficulty as he still seemed to be distracted by his surroundings.

Her hands fluttered over his shoulders for a moment or two of fretting before she scurried to the edge of the pool, rolling the long sleeves of her kimono up as she knelt. She felt a small amount of nervousness – just as strong as eagerness – to show him what she did. Although she was not as impressive as the other gods, who could conjure earthly elements into their palms and snap their fingers to halt a flood. She was good at weaving, better than her brother in fact. And she wanted to impress her Shinki; show him that she was a Goddess worth being with, even if he didn't understand his position just yet.

She glanced back at him, taking in his curious gaze. His eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed, and his eyes watched her with complete focus. Her cheeks flushed, but she managed a smile before turning her gaze back to the pool of water before her.

Then her hand extended, palm faced downward toward the depths. She ignored the nervous tremble of her fingers as she felt his gaze on her back.

The water began to stir, rippling softly as something began to rise from the depths. It glowed softly, humming with expectant energy. It rose up, and up, and she heard Ichigo inhale sharply as it finally rose through the surface of the water. A loom. Only, it was not the large bulky things that humans used. This was smaller and needed only for her to rest it upon the edge of her knees for her to use it. Its length, twice her height, remained half dipped under the surface.

And with a short glance at the sky, her fingers began to move.

It was a familiar dance for her, the pulling of energy between her fingers. Tonight, she would make a new star by drawing the very energy of the heavens between her fingertips and using the loom to form it into the thread.

Above head, the night sky began to take place, the stars, and black backdrop knitting together at the same steady speed of her weaving.

"You're… doing that, aren't you?

She jumped as his breath brushed the top of her head unexpectedly, but her fingers did not stop their practiced dance. She nodded, spotting his head of orange hair from the corner of her eye as he peered over her shoulder.

"Sora-nii – he gave me this job when I was still very little." She explained, keeping her gaze focused on her loom. As she wove, the growing product dipped further into the pool, stretching down into the depths.

"So, you… weave the stars… the constellations and all of that?" He inquired, with far more curiosity than she could have expected. And she nodded once again.

"I do… so that the Gods can always be remembered. But also, the stories of humans," her lips curved into a wistful smile. "I do love those stories…"

He went quiet behind her, and she heard him shift. She chanced a glance his way, smiling when she noticed he had taken his place beside her. Legs crossed, arms folded securely over his chest, eyebrows furrowed into what was becoming a very familiar scowl.

And he sat there silently as she worked, the two of them falling into a comfortable silence. She wove, and he watched. She knew he was slowly thinking things over, taking in the situation with more calmness than she could have ever even hoped for.

"Then you're actually a God – uh… Goddess?"

And she nodded in confirmation once more, her fingers moving slower over her loom as she neared the end of her task. It was a small star, and very little work for her after so many years, but she still took care to ensure it would be entirely different from the others she created. And a smaller part of her secretly loved the way he looked at her work in open wonder. No God had ever gazed upon her loom that way, for many of them could do so much more than her, and it warmed her heart to see such awe in his eyes.

"What kind of Goddess are you?"

It was an innocent question, like asking what her favorite color was. So, it wasn't meant as a rude question or a jab at her expense, but she flinched, nonetheless. If he noticed, he didn't comment. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip for a moment before she answered.

"I-I'm just a Goddess… I don't particularly have domain over anything, like the other Gods might. I help my brother by weaving the stars, but otherwise…" She trailed off, struggling to come up with more to her explanation that wouldn't make her sound so… underwhelming. Even after so long, the fact that she did not know what sort of Goddess she was, was still a sore spot.

Her fingers finally ceased their movement on her loom, tying off the end so that she could continue the rest of her never-ending work on another night. With a simple gesture of her hand, the heavenly instrument lifted away from her lap and slowly sunk back to the depths. All the while Ichigo remained silent beside her, watching its decent until its heavenly golden glow could no longer be seen. Her fingers twisted together in her lap.

"You mentioned before, that I'm a… what was it?" He finally asked, turning to face her properly, his hands braced on his knees. He left the matter of her Godhood aside, and she could not help but feel grateful.

"My Sacred Treasure, or rather, a Shinki…" She met his gaze, trying hard to mask her nervousness as he stared down at her. It was almost funny to think a Goddess would shrink under the gaze of a Shinki, but Orihime had never been a normal Goddess in the first place. And it so happened that her Shinki had a rather strong gaze, in her defense.

"Sacred Treasure? Like… some kind of… prize?" His lips twisted, the idea obviously unpleasant to him. And she hurried to correct his assumption before such thoughts of him being a mere prize set in. Because that was the last thing, she ever wanted him to think he was to her. It was the last thing she ever wanted him to be.

"No! No, never! A Sacred Treasure is a valuable tool of a God. We prize our Shinki just as much as we prize our lives! And, you are my chosen Shinki – my protector… my companion. And…" Her cheeks turned pink, her lashes lowering shyly. "… and hopefully, someday… my friend?"

He was silent for a long moment, seeming to think about her words deeply. And she forced herself to stay quiet, despite her nervousness. He could very well reject her as his Goddess – she wouldn't force him to stay shackled to her. It was not unusual for Shinki to request to be released if they were unhappy with their God. But the thought that he might choose to find another God to serve as a Shinki, hurt her more than she could have ever expected. And she wouldn't blame him and would even help him find a God that suited him. He would likely butt heads with Rukia-san and Renji-kun, and Byakuya-sama would surely find his hair color to be unsuitable – which was a shame because she rather liked his hair quite a bit – and…

She closed her eyes.

The only reason her standing as a Goddess was so high was due to her relation to Sora. And Ichigo deserved a God so much better than that. He would be a powerful Shinki, he already was, and he didn't even know it.

She was a pathetic Goddess indeed, surely not worthy of such a fine Shinki.

"Alright."

Her head snapped up, lips parting on a silent gasp. Warm brown eyes met her own, a hand extending toward her. Her eyes darted between his extended hand and his face as if trying to understand the gesture. And then she could not stop the smile from spreading over her lips. She extended her own hand in return, watching as his much larger one enveloped hers before shaking firmly. A warmth expanded in her chest, and for some reason could not explain she wanted to cry with joy.

"R-Really?" She stammered, gazing up at him with wide eyes of disbelief. His chocolate eyes darted away to the left, color touching his cheekbones as he absently scratched his cheek with his finger.

"Yeah. Really…"

"And you- you're sure? You don't want a better God or Goddess?" She pressed, watching his face intently. He raised an eyebrow and shook his head almost appearing baffled by her words.

Tears clouded her vision and struggled to blink them away. But it was too late, they rolled down her cheeks and throat, wetting the collar of her kimono and dotting the back of her hand as she clenched her kimono in a vice. A small sob slipped past her lips.

She felt something tug on a lock of her hair, and it took only a moment to realize it was Ichigo who had done so. And he was watching her with a concerned, and slightly uncomfortable look on his face.

"Oi, what's with that face? You did that earlier…"

She sniffed – loudly – and rubbed her free hand over her cheeks to wipe away the few tears that had managed to escape. And she offered him a beaming, teary-eyed smile.

"F-Forgive me… I'm just so happy."

He dropped the lock of her hair, drawing a knee up to his chest to rest his elbow upon it. He slouched somewhat, the picture of relaxation. And for some reason his clear ease in her presence only made her tears fall faster and her smile widen. Her lips trembled.

"You're crying because… you're happy?"

She nodded quickly, blinking rapidly to try and dispel the tears from her eyes. And although he was still scowling, his gaze softened noticeably. With little warning, he reached forward to lightly pinch her nose between his knuckles.

"That's a stupid reason to cry."

"I-Ichigo-kun!" She fought the urge to squeal, failing miserably.

"Don't cry – if you're happy, smile. If you cry when you're happy, how am supposed to protect you from what really is bad?" He released her nose to fold his arms over his chest, his head turning to the side as if to survey the area. Her cheeks flared a brilliant red, and she smiled.

"Ichigo-kun is surprisingly gentle, ne?"

His cheeks darkened, and he returned to pinching her nose, ignoring her continued squeals of protest.

"Quiet."

.

.

.

In the Royal Palace, Sora shifted with unease. His eyebrows furrowed, a frown tugging at his lips. His head cocked to the side, toward the large doors. For a moment, he could have sworn he had felt…

"Sora-sama?" Kiun shifted beside him, as if preparing to rise from his kneeling position. Sora raised a hand to halt him, shaking his head. Before him, the lesser God in audience fidgeted uneasily. Nothing more than a simple rice God, but it was his duty to meet every new God and inform them of the duties they were to undertake. A mere formality that took up more time than he liked, but necessary, nonetheless.

"It is nothing. My old mind is playing tricks on me."

And yet why did it still feel as if something dark was breathing down his neck?

.

.

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