Chapter Four: Kissing the Gunner's Daughter*

"Where the hell have you been?!" Renji stood, his face nearly as red as his hair, in the captain's quarters of the Bright Horizons.

"On the Vincent," said Rukia, with a grin, "at the Captain's invitation."

"You're joking," said Renji, taken aback.

"Not at all," replied Rukia. "I was given the V.I.P. tour."

"Unbelievable," marveled Renji.

"Unbelievable, sir," Rukia said, glaring at him now.

"Of course, sir," he grumbled, not sure if he wanted to hug or strangle her. "Can we go back to the ship now, sir?"

"No," she replied, looking out the window at the Vincent. "He's watching me."

"Who?"

"Captain Kurosaki," she replied, with a scowl.

"Why is he watching you, sir?" Renji asked, still slightly irritated with her.

"He suspects something," she answered, closing the window.

The doors to the cabin opened, and Captain Johns strode inside. "Rukia! So good to see you. Checking up on me, are you?"

She laughed. "As if you need me to, Robert. No, I'm just playing a little game of cat and mouse on your ship. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, Lassie, I'm happy to see you!" laughed the Bright Horizon's captain, a large man in his early fifties with a fluffy white beard and bright blue eyes. "You making a delivery?"

"We were to sail for La Prière in the morning," Rukia said, with a sigh. "But without a captain, the Warrior will have to wait a bit longer. You mind if we spend the night aboard?"

"It would be my great pleasure," laughed Johns, pulling out a bottle of rum and pouring three glasses.

"Just a little for me," Rukia laughed. "I've had more than my fill tonight."

"So you were on the Vincent, I take it?" Johns asked, his curiosity evident.

"Fraternizing with the enemy," Renji grumbled, swallowing his drink in a single gulp.

"If you only knew," thought Rukia, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly.

"I took Captain Kurosaki up on his invitation for dinner," Rukia replied. "She's a beauty, that ship."

"So I've heard," replied Captain Johns, pouring another round. "Youngest captain in the fleet, that Kurosaki lad. Heard he gave the Soul Warrior a run for her money."

"Nearly sank her," said Rukia, with a frown. "Fortunately, we were running empty, so we wouldn't have lost any cargo."

"Someone's put the word out that the Warrior's a pirate ship," said the old captain.

"We only steal when we have no other choice," interjected Renji, defensively.

"It's still stealing, Renji," laughed Rukia. "The Royal Navy doesn't care why we do it. We'll still hang if we're caught."

"But they know that…"

"No," replied Rukia, cutting across Renji. "We can't rely upon Yamamoto-sama's influence, Renji. He can't risk exposure anymore we can."

"So this game of cat and mouse you described – are you playing it with the Vincent?" Captain Johns asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," Rukia replied.

"I'd be happy to run a little interference in the morning, if you'd like," the captain replied, grinning. "I have a cabin boy who would fit your clothes quite nicely."

"I'd be much appreciative," Rukia said, laughing now.

"Then I'll prepare you some berths for the night," said Johns. "If you'll leave me your clothing, I'll have Stan leave the ship before dawn – there'll be less chance that your friends on the Vincent will realize he's not the beauty you are if it's still dark."

"I owe you, Robert," Rukia said, smiling.

"Nah, lassie," Johns replied. "You're risking your neck to feed my family, too. I owe you."

Rukia left shortly before dawn the next morning, after the decoy launch had arrived dockside with the cabin boy dressed in her clothes and Renji as an escort. Rukia hoped that the ruse would work at least long enough for her to leave the harbor and return to the Soul Warrior - she did not want to risk a battle with a cargo hold full of supplies that were desperately needed in La Prière.

***********************************

Ichigo was up before the sun, watching the harbor. As expected, he saw a small skiff return to shore from the Bright Horizons, carrying what looked like a woman and a red-headed man. He sent several of his men after the launch with instructions to follow, and waited in a second launch, expectantly. He wasn't sure why he knew that Rukia was not on the launch, but his instincts screamed that she was still on the ship, waiting. She was up to something – he was sure of it, and he wasn't going to just let her slip through his hands - he had too many unanswered questions he wanted to ask her.

Kuchiki Rukia. Her name had kept turning up when he investigated the unusual pirate activity around the islands. At first, he had dismissed the coincidences as just chance, but each time he checked for pirate activity in the area around Antigua and La Prière, her name had turned up on a Kuchiki ship manifest. When he had checked with the local Kuchiki Limited offices, they had confirmed that she was a passenger on the various ships, but the few times he had actually boarded the Kuchiki ships that were in port, he had never seen her. The captains of the merchant ships had made excuses for her – that she was on a sightseeing trip to a nearby island, or perhaps that she was in town, shopping – but he had never been able to find her in those places.

For months, he had followed her trail with no luck – that is, until the day before the Vincent had pursued the unnamed pirate ship into the storm off the Antigua coast. It was on that day that he had felt something strange – like a hunch he could not ignore – a feeling that made his fingers tingle when he absentmindedly let them stray to the hilt of his sword. And, on the same day, he had received a communiqué from Captain Ichimaru of the H.M.S. Gallant, about a known pirate vessel, the Soul Warrior, which had been seen in the vicinity of La Prière on a heading for Antigua. He had followed his hunch and the information in the communiqué, and had intercepted a ship matching the description of the Warrior near the leading edge of a huge storm.

Since that encounter, he had become convinced that Rukia was more than just in the right place at the right time – that she knew about the Warrior and the pirate activity – that she might even be a part of it. So, when he had seen her in Harbortown, alone, he had not hesitated to invite her aboard the Vincent, hoping to learn more about her. The meeting, however, had not gone exactly as planned - he had not anticipated his physical response to her, nor had he anticipated her response to him. It was merely a complication, he now told himself - he would just need to be more careful in the future not to give in to his impulses.

Still waiting in the second launch, he saw movement again from the Bright Horizons about a half-hour later – a second launch, smaller than the first, which carried but one person. "This is it," he thought, quietly rowing across the harbor, in the shadow of the large ships so he would not be seen. A quick glance at the Vincent's foredeck told him that Shuuhei was waiting and watching.

Ichigo followed the small boat, making sure to maintain a safe distance so he would not be discovered. Instead of heading to the docks, however, the boat made its way out of the harbor and onto the open water, hugging the shoreline of the small island, towards the island's northernmost tip. After nearly an hour of rowing, the lone passenger on the boat headed for shore, pulling the wooden skiff onto a remote, sandy beach and then up onto the beach itself, where the boat would not be carried out to sea by the tide. He was sure it was Rukia – he knew it instinctively, although he wasn't sure how he knew it.

Ichigo also pulled his boat onto the beach about a half-mile away, careful not to be seen, and threw his heavy wool jacket into the skiff. He followed her, watching her make her way along the edge of the water, further north, towards the uninhabited side of the island. He followed for four or five miles like this, keeping his distance and staying hidden in the thick vegetation, until he saw the shoreline end in a wide, sandy beach surrounding a cove of clear, green-blue water.

In the center of the cove, several hundred yards from the shore, a boat sat at anchor – the Soul Warrior. The decks of the square-rigger were alive with activity as men prepared the boat to sail.

"She was no illusion," he thought, with a grin. "And she's a beauty." The sunlight reflected off her well-polished wood decks, and her sails were tied down neatly.

The small figure he had been following for several hours now was nearly to the beach and, more importantly, nearly visible to the Warrior's crew. Ichigo need to act now, he knew, or he would risk a far larger fight. He moved quickly to within several yards of Rukia. For a moment, she paused, and he wondered if she had heard him. Then, with a slight shake of her head, she continued on towards the beach. He smiled to see her tiny figure in a pair of britches and a white laced shirt. On her head, she wore a red bandana, into which she had tucked her hair. She looked like a small cabin boy.

Ichigo drew a small, jeweled dagger from his pocket and moved quickly behind Rukia, grabbing one of her arms and holding it behind her back. He held the dagger at her throat.

"Don't move," he said, quietly.

"What do you think you're doing?" she said, turning her head slightly and glaring at him.

"I'm doing my job," he said. "Looking for pirates."

"And you think you've found them, Captain?" she asked, calmly.

"You tell me, Lady Kuchiki," he replied. "Whose ship is she?"

"You should stay out of this, Captain," she replied. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

"Really?" he asked, with a laugh. "What am I getting myself into?"

She moved like lightening, kicking him hard in the shins and slipping out from his grip. Then, turning, she jumped into the air and kicked his wrist, sending the dagger flying into the brush. He drew his sword and pointed it at her. She smiled.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Only this," she said, drawing her sword from behind her back and raising it to meet his blade. The two weapons met with a loud clanking sound and they both jumped back several feet, weapons at the ready.

"How did you…where did you get that sword?" he stammered, but her answer was a swift swing of her weapon in the direction of his chest, and he was forced to parry to avoid being hit.

"Not bad," she said, smiling. "Another skill you picked up in charm school, Captain Kurosaki?"

"Hardly," he answered, resetting himself and lunging at her. "My father taught me to fight."

She swung her blade around and upwards, knocking him back slightly with the force of the movement. He looked at her with surprise; he had not expected that she would be this strong. "She's as strong as most of the men I've fought," he thought, with admiration.

"You're holding back, Captain," she said, still smiling. "You've never fought a woman before, have you?" She was right, of course.

"I just want to ask you some questions, I don't want to kill you," he replied.

"You have a funny way of showing it," she laughed. "I'm usually more open to answering questions without a knife pressed against my throat." And with that, she lunged at him again, this time catching the fabric of his shirtsleeve. A tiny trickle of blood appeared on his skin where the fabric had been cut. He did not blink, but swung his sword at her, and they found themselves, face to face and wrist to wrist, blades touching.

"So whose ship is she?" he asked again, teeth gritted. "The redhead I saw you with? Abarai Renji?"

"Why would you even care?" she said, and she pushed him backwards several feet and jumped back herself, putting more distance between the two of them.

"It's my job to care," he said, trying to decide what his next move should be. "I chased her into a storm several months ago and she disappeared. I would have captured her."

"Would have?" she said, shaking her head. "But she disappeared? A bit odd, don't you think? Ships don't just disappear. Perhaps you had a bit too much rum that night, Captain."

He jumped into the air and kicked her, in the shoulder this time, and she fell backwards onto the sand. Within seconds, he had his blade pointed at her throat.

"Again, not bad, Captain. You are accomplished at hand to hand combat."

"I want answers, Rukia," he said, dropping all pretense now.

"I will give you none unless you release me," she replied, stubbornly.

"I don't think you're in much of a position to argue with me," he said, with a smirk. "Perhaps you would like to reconsider."

"I don't think that's necessary," came a voice from behind Ichigo, and he felt the point of a blade pressed into the small of his back.

"Good to see you, Renji," said Rukia, rolling over and out from Ichigo's grasp. She stood up and dusted herself off.

"Abarai," growled Ichigo. "How long have you been following us?"

"Since you landed on the beach," he replied, with immense satisfaction.

"We must be going, Captain Kurosaki," Rukia said, looking at the sun, which had now risen high in the sky. "I have a schedule to keep. Perhaps when I'm next in port we can have dinner again?" She stressed the word 'dinner' and gave him a knowing look.

"I'm not just going to leave."

"No, I suppose not," she replied. "But we are."

Renji raised the hilt of his blade, aiming for the back of Ichigo's head. The goal was simply to knock the man unconscious. Unfortunately, or, as fate would have it, Ichigo took the opportunity to move out of the way, or at least, partially out of the way. Ichigo raised his sword, but Renji brought his arm down, hard, and Ichigo stumbled backwards in the sand.

"Damn," cursed Renji, looking at the now-unconscious Ichigo, his own blade having left a deep wound in his side, which was bleeding profusely.

"Give me your shirt, Renji," Rukia said, thinking quickly. "We don't want him bleeding to death." Renji pulled his shirt over his head and handed it to her. She quickly tore it partially in two, wrapping it under Ichigo's back and around his injured side.

"What do we do with him?" Renji asked.

"We can't leave him here," she replied, with a frustrated sigh. "He'll die."

"Lucky for him we're not the kind of pirates he thinks we are," laughed Renji.

"More complications," said Rukia, inwardly kicking herself for having spent the night with Ichigo. This was her fault, and she knew it. "Can you carry him to the boat? He needs to be treated before he bleeds to death."

"No problem, sir," Renji replied, picking up the unconscious Ichigo and throwing him over his shoulder.

"Damn stubborn man," Rukia thought, as they rowed back to the Warrior. Still, despite herself, she couldn't help worrying that they might not get back to the ship in time.

"What the hell is it about him," she thought, with frustration, "that I'd even care if he lived or died?"

*************************************

He dreamed that he was back in the small suburb of London, in his father's home.

"You're too slow, Ichigo," Isshin goaded, pushing him back, hard, onto the grass. "You can't wait for an opening to come at me - you need to create an opening of your own."

Ichigo scowled, immensely frustrated with his father's superior swordsmanship and aching all over. Ichigo didn't want to be fighting, he didn't care to fight, anyhow. What good was a sword for a young man that was soon to be apprenticed to a metalsmith, anyhow? He would make swords, not fight with them.

"Enough, dad," he said, his voice bordering on a whine. "I'm no good at this anyhow."

"That's not true, and you know it," Isshin retorted, raising an eyebrow. "You're one of the best fighters I've seen. You just don't want to learn how to wield a sword."

"It's a waste of time," Ichigo complained. "This sword is worthless, anyhow. It's heavy and awkward - I'll be able to forge a far better one myself once I've finished my apprenticeship."

"You're right, son," Isshin replied with a sigh, "it isn't the best weapon. But would you truly try harder if you had a better weapon? I doubt it."

The words irked Ichigo, who stubbornly said, "You're damn straight I would try harder if I had a better weapon. I'd get good enough to beat you." The corners of Isshin's lips turned up slightly at his young son's pronouncement. His son would never back down from a promise such as that. It was time.

"Alright," said Isshin, sheathing his own weapon. "If that's how it's going to be, then follow me, son. I have something to show you."

Isshin led Ichigo into a small shed behind the house which was used to store tools and foodstuffs like rice and potatoes. Ichigo knew the shed well - he and his twin sisters had used it for years to play, imagining it at various times to be a ship, a castle, or even a hideout for bandits. There was nothing in this place he hadn't seen before.

"You're going to have me fight with vegetables, then?" cracked the thirteen year-old Ichigo, laughing at his father. "That's going to be a big help, I'm sure."

"There are many things you do not know, Ichigo," replied Isshin, patiently.

Ichigo scowled and leaned against the wall of the shed. "So why did you bring me here, dad?" he asked, impatiently.

"To show you something, son," Isshin replied with a grin.

Ichigo watched as Isshin bent down and touched the floor with his hand. Ichigo blinked as the floor appeared to glow slightly blue under Isshin's palm. Dust rose from the point of contact like a small cloud. Isshin then removed his hand and, where there had been just a dirt floor before, Ichigo could see a small opening with a latch. Isshin reached down and pulled up a trap door. Underneath, Ichigo could see an object, wrapped in dark canvas and rope. Isshin pulled the object out from beneath the floor.

"What is it?" Ichigo asked, his eyes wide.

"Your great-grandfather's sword," replied Isshin, with a smile. He unwrapped the coverings to reveal a long, thin sword with an unusual, flat guard and a black chain. "It is called, 'Zangetsu'."

Isshin handed the sword to Ichigo, who took it gingerly in his hands. It was lighter than it appeared and, when he put his right hand on the hilt, it felt warm to Ichigo's touch, almost alive.

"It's amazing," he said, all hint of teenage defiance gone from his expression. He ran his fingers gingerly over the blade, which was sharp as a razor.

"It is your sword now, Ichigo," said Isshin, quietly. "Take good care of it. Be worthy of it."

Ichigo opened his eyes and blinked, the bright sunlight momentarily blinding him.

"Where am I?" he wondered, trying to get his bearings. He looked around. Judging by the shape of the room and the familiar rocking sensation, he realized he was on a ship, at sea. "The Warrior," he thought, as his memory of the confrontation with Rukia and her associate returned. He tried to sit up and winced at a sharp pain in his side.

"I wouldn't try that, Captain Kurosaki," said Renji, who sat a few feet away from the bed in which Ichigo lay. "You'll open the wound and start to bleed again."

"Wound?"

"You moved when I went to hit you over the head," grumbled Renji, clearly irritated. "You landed on your own blade."

"So it's my fault that I didn't want to get clobbered? And why didn't you just leave me? Why take me to your ship?" Ichigo asked, surprised.

"Rukia didn't want you dying on us," Renji replied, stonily. "I disagreed, but..."

Ichigo tried to sit up again and groaned at the pain. "Damn," he thought. "That hurts."

"You'll be better in a few days," Renji said. "That is, if you let the wound heal."

"A few days? A wound like this usually takes weeks to heal," said Ichigo, taken aback.

"Rukia's pretty handy fixing wounds," Renji replied. "You're lucky she was around."

"Hardly," muttered Ichigo, now managing to sit up and remain in a sitting position.

The door behind Renji opened, and Rukia walked in. She had changed her clothes, and now wore a pair of black pants and a white shirt, with a large leather belt. On her head was a red cloth, wrapped about her hair, to keep it from falling into her eyes.

Renji stood up.

"How's our patient, Renji?" Rukia asked.

"He'll live, sir," replied Renji. "Thanks to you."

Ichigo growled something unintelligible. Then, as Renji's words began to sink in, he said, "Sir? That's a laugh."

Renji glared at Ichigo, clearly struggling with his desire to strangle the other man.

"Renji," Rukia said, "let it go."

"If he interferes with…"

"If he interferes, he will be dealt with," Rukia replied, stoically, cutting Renji off.

Ichigo cleared his throat and looked irritated. "I am sitting here, you know. I don't appreciate...."

"Shut up," interrupted Renji, his face darkening. "I won't have you talk to her like that."

"Renji, really, it's alright," laughed Rukia.

"I'm the first mate on this ship," said Renji, his face slightly pink with anger. "I won't have him speaking to my commanding officer with disrespect."

"Commanding officer?" queried Ichigo, his expression a mixture of shock and surprised delight. "Then, you're…"

"Captain," Rukia replied, with a wide grin, relishing the revelation. "Captain Kuchiki, to be precise. The Soul Warrior is my ship. And you, Captain Kurosaki, are my prisoner."

* Kissing the Gunner's Daughter : A slang term for a sailor's punishment, where the offending sailor was forced to bend over the barrel of a gun/canon for a beating with a cane.