Renji watched the Dove dock fade smaller as the Scarlet Reaper made way into the blue seas. The tall figure on the pier was irate, some of Nnoitra's rants and threats carrying out over the warm water, but Renji didn't answer them.

Instead he took the spyglass Izuru handed him and searched the small port's coastline for other boats. None were in sight, save a few small fishing boats lazing near the shoreline further west. He took a moment to search the waters around him.

There were no ships, no other boats. Satisfied, he handed the scope back to Izuru.

"She's a lively one," the blond man said, grinning at the stairway to the lower cabin below the quarterdeck. He shook his head as Renji gave him a frown. "I figured you being gone four days would have eased some of her tensions about being rescued."

Renji sighed, looking north for a long moment before glancing to the stairwell. "She was fine until we got to port," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, the expected fright at being taken from the dungeon by someone she doesn't know, but that kind of passed. Until we got here. Soon as she saw the ship she decided she wanted no part of getting out of Hueco Mundo. Not with me."

Izuru looked back at the arid land mass they'd just left. "Maybe she lives there."

Renji chuckled, shaking his head. "Doubt that. She's no desert flower, Izuru. She says she not wealthy, but she's definitely used to the finer treatment. No one has that on Hueco Mundo except Aizen, and he's been taking women from the mainland."

Some of the crew had wandered away from their completed task of rope duty to settle at the ship's port rail, most looking to the quarterdeck and talking amongst themselves.

It reminded Renji that this voyage would be different than his most recent. It was one thing to have a woman aboard with her fiancé, but quite another a lone woman in his quarters. He'd thought about Rukia's needs, but aside from buying the dress in Blue Haven before setting out to find the girl he'd left in the dungeon, he hadn't thought much about bringing her back to the Scarlet Reaper.

Bringing Orihime back, he rethought. She did have a name, after all.

"Maybe it is you," Izuru offered.

Renji wanted to shoot down the suggestion, but knew there was validity to it. "My time on Zaraki's deck is past; my name hasn't been connected to any of his raids in months."

Izuru shrugged. "People don't forget, Renji," he said, his tone touched by his own memories. "You made your own name with your own ship."

Renji waved this off. "A few attacks; the most recent were for the Emperor." He stopped himself from mentioning a few details, knowing that it was Shuuhei that had been his first mate at those times, and even then there were other facts he hadn't made known to anyone. "Smuggling doesn't have the same impact as piracy, Izuru."

The other man nodded. "You know how the mainland is. Stories get passed around and distorted. You heard some of them yourself."

Renji laughed. "Exaggerations."

Izuru looked to where two crewmen were bringing up two small wooden barrels from the hold. He saw Renji scowl. "The townsfolk of Dove are mighty scared of Aizen," he said before Renji could speak. "They wouldn't sell us more than six barrels of fresh water and all small, at that. We got what we could, Captain."

"He's got every grain of sand on Hueco Mundo under control," Renji said, looking to the bright afternoon sun overhead amid the canvas sails. "Soon as he gets serious and sends anyone after us, we've got trouble."

"You think he will?"

Renji nodded. "Our new passenger was bringing repeated ransoms. Doubt he'll let her go. Any water left from Seireitei?"

"Half a cask," Izuru said. "Not good for drinking."

Renji stripped off his headrag and untied both braids. "I'm not going to drink it. I'm wearing three days of sand."

"Good enough for that." Izuru watched a larger barrel be struggled up the hatch by three crewmen. "We've got enough ale and wine, though. The townsfolk had no problem parting with those." He swallowed, his last hangover still fresh on his mind as he watched the barrel located to a shady spot of the main sail at the forecastle. "Where do you want to set course for?"

Renji was already ahead of him on that thought. He pulled off his shirt and waved over one of the crewmen heading to the hatch. "I don't know where she belongs yet," he said to Izuru, "and I don't think it's wisest to go straight there, anyway; not if we're likely to be followed. If Aizen sends anyone for our new passenger, they may just head us off at her homeland."

Izuru glanced back to the quarterdeck that rose over the captain's rooms as Renji ordered the crewman to bring up a cask of older water. "We've got to set course for somewhere."

"Head us north," Renji decided, his mind traveling over Orihime's change in fright and what little he'd pieced together of her. "For now."


Orihime stood shakily in the dark, strange room after Renji left her upon arrival at the Scarlet Reaper. She barely breathed, the events of the morning and escape from Nnoitra eclipsing her relief at leaving Las Noches.

For a few moments after he left she remained unmoving, searching the room for any source of light. There was none, but she could make out some angles of furniture and walls, and the cracks of light around a few windows in the ship's walls, but not enough to see well. After a brief moment, a dim light shone from the back of the room from a curtained off doorway and she carefully moved there.

With a glance behind her at the door that Renji had left through, Orihime turned again to the curtain and swept back the muslin that partitioned off another room. She caught her breath at seeing what appeared to be a bedchamber behind the first room.

The only light inside came from a flickering oil lamp attached above a small table bolted to one wall near a closed window. She went there and unplugged the small dowel holding the lamp to the wall. With trembling fingers she turned up the wick.

Lamplight shown brighter into the room and she was surprised it was somewhat orderly and clean. The four-poster bed was centered against the back wall, bedclothes straightened. Besides the small table at the wall were an armoire and a bench, and washstand and folding bamboo screen near the aft corner. She took the lamp and went to the screen, fingers moving over one of the tall panels as her mind spun.

She pushed the first thoughts away, shaking her head.

"He said he'd take me home," she murmured, trying to fortify herself with what she knew of the truth. It was part of this truth that brought a new shaking to her hands, making the lamplight jerk across the wooden plank floor. She took a deep breath and braced herself for further study.

Across from the bed was a fireplace at the wall that was shared by the first room where Renji had left her. Dark seeped in through the lowered grate, and Orihime went there to look through. She crouched, seeing that the fireplace serviced both rooms and while it was large enough to crawl through, the grate was locked. She stood up, looking to the closets built into the walls, and then to the armoire.

She investigated this with the lamp, suspicious that a pirate would have such a closet, and to her surprise found a few dresses on the rack inside. She pulled out the hem of one, frowning at its small size. She opened the second door to reveal a floor length mirror, making her start to see her own reflection there. A very frightened reflection, she noticed.

The uneasy feeling in her stomach jolted into full blown terror. She quickly closed the armoire. A woman's clothes? Some of the fears that had dissolved on the long ride about her rescuer had resurfaced when she'd seen the name Scarlet Reaper, and now they threatened to overtake her senses. Renji's words of denying piracy coursed through her mind, but they did not ring true. Again fears about another abductor and ransom arose.

She set the lamp on the table and desperately tried to open the window above the bench by the armoire. It held tight, as did the ones at the table and other wall when she tried them.

The trembling in her stomach made her legs weak. She hadn't been on her feet for any length of time in weeks, and her steps were unsteady, but she didn't sit down. The port side wall also had a closet and washstand and Orihime gave them a closer look. Inside the second wardrobe were more clothes – Renji's clothes – she realized. She closed it and backed away and went to the table to collect the lamp.

She went to the washstand where a brush and two small bottles were slotted in the holes drilled into the dark wood support. Maybe she was only one in a line of captives Renji had taken from Las Noches. Maybe that's what he was really doing there, collecting captives from Aizen's stash to demand his own ransoms. She felt faint, realizing she desperately wanted to believe all the words he'd told her about taking her home. She took a bottle and pulled the cork, smelling the contents. It was oil, mostly lavender and some jasmine, she knew. She replaced it and took the other bottle. This time a headier scent came from the container, and she well knew what it was.

"Recognize those?" Renji asked, stepping into the room, making her yelp.

Orihime nearly dropped the bottle, but managed to recork its top as she turned. She nervously set it back in its slot on the washstand, warily watching him go to the table and set two bottles on it as he turned down the lamp light.

The room was pitch black for a few seconds before he opened the window over the table and let the late day's sun stream in.

Orihime squinted in the light for a moment, still carefully watching him. His hair was down, unbraided and damp, and he wore a black shirt half buttoned at his chest. Beneath it she could see tattoos, but not discern their pattern. It was another point to verify what she knew of his name.

He returned her attention as he opened the other windows, pausing at the one nearest her over the bench a she stepped away to the bamboo screen.

"I plan on returning you, Orihime," he said, leaning slightly to her as she withdrew, "but you have to tell me where you belong."

Before she could answer he took her arm and turned it over, inspecting the length of torn dress she'd wrapped around her wrist under the cuff still attached. He nodded and pulled her towards the bedside.

Again she balked at following him, but he sat on the edge and towed her closer. "Sit down and we'll get that bracelet off."

She reluctantly sat beside him, having little choice as he dug the ring of keys from his pocket and estimated the lock on the cuff. After the first few keys of failure, she let her arm relax more in his grip, eyes going to the black tattoos she could see on his neck beneath his hair.

"Do you know those oils?" he asked, nodding to the washstand without looking up from her arm in his grasp.

"Yes."

"Both?"

"...Yes."

He'd figured as much. The fifth key worked after a bit of finagling, and he unlocked the cuff and tossed the chain near the fireplace. She tried to retract her arm, but he held it tighter, untying the knotted dress she'd used as a bandage. "Use them."

Orihime gave the washstand a quick glance. "Who was here before?"

"I told you I took a friend out of Las Noches before you." He unwrapped the torn material from her wrist, pausing once to give the worn material a better study. It was thin, finely woven, the pattern of mauve and purple still soft after its long wear in the dungeon. He kept her arm in his hand, examining the fabric.

She watched his study. "Did you take her back home?"

He nodded. "To her brother," he said, grinning.

She didn't smile, but her fears dropped a notch.

He rubbed her wrist, his thumb careful over the scrapes the material had protected from the rough cuff's metal edges. "I'll take you back to your brother, too, Orihime."

"How much will you ask him for?"

He turned to see her better. The day's sun was setting lower on the water, shedding in through the window on them, and in it her hair took on a bright auburn. He'd thought her eyes were brown, but at the proximity could see tones of lavender in them in the strong light. He picked up a strand of hair that lay at her shoulder, giving her a look of warning when she tried to flinch from him.

He pulled the soft tress between his fingers, noting the color, recalling where he'd seen it before. "Did Aizen send your brother a lock of your hair?"

Her hand snapped from his hold, her elbow nearly cuffing his jaw as her hand cupped at the side of her head.

"I'm not going to cut your –" Renji stopped speaking as a flash of color at her neck beneath her hair caught his attention. Before she could move away he reached to the side of her neck and drew her closer. Embedded in the soft waves was a strand of beads woven into a thin braid buried at her back.

He pulled it, his other hand locking on her wrist when she tried to draw it away from him.

"Please, Captain," she said, tugging on the thin braid, attempting to stand as made her remain seated, "my brother has paid –"

"He's paid Aizen," he reminded. "Sit still." She did, and he pulled her fingers from the thin braid. It was woven with small amber and garnet beads, the very end tied with a dangle of tiny freshwater pearls.

Her eyes followed his hand up the strand, trying to gauge his mood.

He finally nodded and stood up, taking the bandage of torn dress with him. He went to a wall cupboard and found a ceramic cup, set it on the table and poured it full from one of the bottles. "We're rationing the fresh water. Come over here and drink this."

Orihime stood, her bare feet countering the movement of the ship on the water.

He took the other darker colored glass bottle and pulled the cork, glancing at her. "Come over here." He took a long drink from the bottle, the scorching brandy seeming especially cutting after the last few days of travel. He sat in the chair nearest the fireplace at the table and nodded to the one across him. "Sit down."

She took the few steps to the table, watching him drain the bottle of a quarter of the liquid inside.

"What was in those bottles?" he asked, again indicating the washstand.

She slowly sat in the chair across from him, not looking to the washstand in the corner. "Lavender and jasmine oil."

He nodded. "Which can be found anywhere in Seireitei." He grinned at her discomfort. It was the second bottle that interested him more. It had interested Rukia more, too, but she'd managed to restrain her delight in his ill gotten gains. She had no problem using the luxury aboard his ship, but when he'd returned her to Byakuya with Ichigo she'd declined to take it with her. Renji knew why. Rukia would shy away from bringing black market goods into her brother's house. He let her think it noble. He also let her think her brother was above a little contraband.

He'd smuggled and risked his neck and ship for the expensive perfumed oils and Ichigo would get the benefit of Rukia's three day holiday of bathing herself with them. It wasn't something Renji let himself think about.

"What was the other?" he asked Orihime.

This time she bit her lip slightly at the question. After a moment, she answered: "Ylang ylang oil."

He nodded, grinning at her reluctance. "Not many women know it. Fewer can get it." His gaze dropped to where the collar of the cornflower blue dress cut across her chest. He took a drink from the bottle of brandy, eyes going to the peachy blush that bloomed on her cheeks at his attention. "But you know it, and you can get it, too."

"It's illegal." Her voice was faint as she spoke, and she took the ceramic cup and drank a gulp before realizing it was white wine. She coughed a little, and then took another drink.

"Illegal for some." He leaned back in the chair, watching the light from the window fade, making her hair appear darker. "Not for you."

Her eyes flicked to him. "But the mainland has banned trade of it."

He nodded, chuckling. "It's only called the mainland by those who don't live on it." He grinned wider as her expression shifted to alarm. "Isn't it, Orihime?"

Her fingers tightened around the cup, mind racing to undo her recent misspeak.

"How do you know Byakuya Kuchiki?"

The question made her mouth drop open. She snapped it shut, frowning at the cup. "I know he's a nobleman from Seireitei."

Renji set the bottle on the table, seeing her eyes go to the two-thirds full line of liquid inside it. "What else do you know of him?"

She shook her head, a movement that made her hair resettle across her shoulders. She absently tucked the strand of braid under it. "I've never met him."

It wasn't what Renji had expected her to say. He looked to each of her eyes, trying to read any deceit there, but found none. "It was his sister that I took from Las Noches last week. She's been returned to her brother, Byakuya Kuchiki."

A slight quiver came to her lips, making her voice shake as she spoke. "How, how much did you demand? Captain, my brother isn't wealthy," she said urgently, hands gripping into fists on the table as she sat straighter. "We haven't the kind of money like the Kuchiki's. We can't –"

"Damn it, no," he growled as she winced. "I didn't return her for money, Orihime. She was a friend. No money was involved. Why is that so stuck in your head?"

A wounded expression crossed her face.

"Listen, I know you're not from the mainland," he said when she remained silent. He tapped the worn material he'd taken from her wrist. "You're accustomed to luxuries not permitted in Seireitei."

She shook her head, eyes going to the bandage.

"Is this from the dress you wore when you were taken from your homeland?" he asked pointedly.

She nodded. "I was really there for the time I told you I was, Captain."

"Renji."

She frowned, eyes clouding.

"You call me Renji, all right?"

She nodded. "Renji."

"Much better." He picked up the scrap of dress by two fingers. "This is real silk, Orihime. Not the rolled and polished cotton thread used on the mainland that passes for silk since the Silk Wars. This is the real stuff. It's also contraband, and you were wearing it."

This time her mouth dropped open more slowly, eyes rising to his.

He nodded, grinning. "You don't have to tell me where you're from yet. I'm not taking you home directly."

"But you said —"

"I will take you home," he added, grabbing the bottle again and sitting back in his chair. "But that's probably the first place Aizen will send anyone to look for you."

"Oh." She nodded, fingers tracing the green fern pattern on the ceramic cup. "I see."

For a moment he watched her pout, enjoying the line her coral lips made as she pursed them in thought. He had more questions for her, but decided he'd get better answers in time. And he had time. The thin braid weighted with pearls, amber, and garnet beads hung just over her breast, nearly lost in the auburn hair that was taking on a deeper luster in the day's waning light.

"There are dresses in the armoire, but I don't think they'll fit you," he said, estimating her figure as she glanced to him. "We'll get you more clothes when we dock for fresh water in a few days."

"Thank you, but this is fine," she said. She watched him take a long drink from the bottle, summoning her courage despite the inner resistance.

"Why your sudden fear of sailing with me?" he asked.

"I didn't know we were sailing."

He shook his head. "You had to know we were leaving Hueco Mundo."

She nodded, looking to the bottle.

"Do you want some of this?" He shook the bottle's contents.

"No, thank you."

"Is it the ship?" This Renji really wanted to know. "What have you heard?"

Orihime took a drink of the wine, wishing it would embolden her enough to voice her own questions. "You're a pirate."

"Was. I gave it up." He hoped honesty was contagious. "Gave it up, Orihime."

"But you have ...things. You have merchandise that's illegal." She glanced at the washstand and back to him.

"That depends on where you are, doesn't it?"

She nodded, wishing she could smile at his grin.

"Is that what troubles you? Piracy?"

"Shouldn't it?"

He nodded. "Yes, I guess."

She finished her wine, and to her chagrin he refilled her cup with more from the bottle.

"If you're not a pirate anymore," she said slowly, "Renji, then why did you sink the Yellow Lily?"

The bottle of brandy stopped halfway to his lips, brow furrowing at her. "What do you know about the Lily?"

She looked sheepishly to the open shirt at his chest for a moment before her gaze flicked to his face. "You sank it."

He nodded. "Emperor Yamamoto commissioned me to sink it. That wasn't piracy."

She thought about this for a moment, watching him twist the torn bandage in his hand. "Is that the only reason?"

"What do you know about the Lily?"

"Just that ... that it was a merchant ship."

Renji knew far more than that about the Yellow Lily. He knew the Lily was to meet the Southern Pearl with contraband bound for Seireitei. It was in waters he knew well, having used the route for smuggling, mostly with half fermented woad as a cover cargo to mask any scent of perfume or aphrodisiac. In an attempt to outlive some of his smuggling charges he'd accepted the Emperor's invitation to privateer.

What he hadn't known was that the Yellow Lily was to meet a ship he should have passed on, a ship he was also commissioned to attack. The Southern Pearl hadn't looked like a Kuchiki ship; he wouldn't have known it when he lifted the cargo either, if it hadn't been for the telltale tattoo on the captain's arm. It should have brought a hearty laugh, the irony of Byakuya Kuchiki resorting to smuggling to trade goods he couldn't outright buy from a location he couldn't control in some manner.

But Renji hadn't found it humorous, and he'd passed on other such invitations from the Emperor. He'd wondered since then if his former employer had known he knew who owned the Southern Pearl. Renji had never mentioned it to anyone, even Shuuhei, who'd been his first mate on the attack. The event soured on Renji's stomach for more reasons than one, and he'd left those waters for northern ports.

"That's all you know about it?" he asked Orihime, still watching her debate something within herself. "Why your interest in the Lily?"

She took another drink of the wine, the misery of unasked questions plaguing her as he watched her slightest movement. "Do you know where it was from?"

Her façade of indifference amused him. It only added to the background he was building about her, reinforcing what he thought he knew. "I was commissioned to attack two ships," he said, purposely leaving out a few details. "I was never told either ship's country of origin. Just the waters they were to be in and their names."

She didn't say it, but he could see it in her face, or something close to it. A few times she opened her mouth to voice a query, but then thought better of it, leaving it silent.

"You understand I'm not a pirate, don't you?"

This time she looked him square in the eye, nodding slightly as she argued something with herself. "Not anymore."

"And not when I attacked the Yellow Lily."

This time the brooding look in her eyes softened a little. "It was your Emperor's orders."

He nodded. He glanced to the window as the breeze out it turned cooler as evening fell over the waters. "I've got a course to set on deck." He pushed the scrap of dress toward her on the table, letting one finger tap the back of her hand. "I'll take you home, Orihime. I promise."

There were sounds from the causeway and he stood up and stretched, the days of desert travel making him miss the sea. He grabbed the bottle of brandy. "I'll have your supper sent in. Izuru is acting first mate. Get some sleep."

She stood as he walked to the door. "I sleep here?" Before she could stop herself, her eyes darted to the bed, some of her fears resurfacing.

"Yes, here. In the bed," he added, grinning at the squeak claiming her voice. "Alone. You sleep in the bed alone, Orihime."

He left into first room, pulling the curtain wide as he did, leaving her to her thoughts in the bedchamber. She heard the door in the front room open and an exchange of men's voices, and then someone called out.

"Hello?"

Orihime stepped away from the table as Izuru appeared in the doorway. He held up a tray with a covered plate on it.

"Hi. I'm Izuru," he said, entering the room as she backed to the armoire. He smiled and set the tray on the table, giving her a quick once over. "Welcome to the ...ship. Guess you're with us for a while. Renji will be back later. I've no brains for navigating."

Orihime made a slight nod. "Thank you."

He nodded back. "Okay. Okay then."

She watched him leave, then glanced to the table. The aroma of fish stew and rice cakes was welcome, reminding her she hadn't eaten much that day, busy as she and Renji had been outrunning Nnoitra and finding Dove.

Her mind was a whir of thoughts of their conversation, too much new knowledge to digest and her thoughts muddled from the wine on an empty stomach. She went to the window open over the bench and looked out.

The sea was shifting with dark blue water under the sky blinking with early stars in the dusk. She leaned to the sill, breathing in the damp air that promised rain.

She sighed, sagging at the ship's wooden side, wishing it would rain. She hadn't seen rain in nearly two months and she missed it.

Renji said he wasn't pirate.

As much as she wanted to believe it, Orihime couldn't explain some of what he'd told her. Perhaps he'd returned the Kuchiki girl in favor to a friend. Or perhaps as a ransom.

She glanced back to the washstand, eyes resting on the bottle of expensive oil, and then looked to the table.

Maybe she could tell him.