A/N: Again, two chapters were uploaded today. Check out the last one or you'll miss details and important points.

As the sun was dipping below the horizon, Ame stood at the foot of Kamui's bed; redressing. Extra time was spent lacing up her shoes and slipping her knife into the laces to secure it in case she had to run. She donned an olive tank top and black cargo pants, then pulled a matching beanie on. As if it was cold out.

"Where are you going?"

Glancing up at Kamui, the woman didn't spare more movement to acknowledge him. She took the knife that had been perched between her teeth and slipped it into the holder in her shoes.

"Out." That was her only answer and Kamui tilted his head. After his smelly bath, the man's skin had started to visibly heal. Most of the scabs were gone and he was almost normal, save for a few red patches. instead of entertaining his questions any further, Ame reached into a drawer and strapped a holster around her torso. Snapped it into place and turned to his nightstand. She pulled it open and annoyance rippled through her body at the discovery of her gun still being gone. "I need that glock."

"Why?"
He was asking too many questions. Cutting her eyes towards Kamui, Ame released an exasperated sigh.
"Just give it to me."
"Where are you going?" He repeated himself, still sitting up in the bed and poking at the covers.
Kamui felt better. His nausea had passed and his appearance had improved, and although his stamina wasn't back he could manage.
"To the grocery store." Sarcastically muttering the words, the woman turned to him. Her full attention boiled into his skin, and Kamui almost thought that he'd get sunburned again. Almost.

"Ame..." Pausing to consider his words, the man frowned to himself. He glanced down at the sheets over his legs, then back at the woman as his lips parted. "Are you hiding something from me?"

The woman didn't flinch at the accusation. In fact, her face portrayed nothing distinguishable. She didn't answer him directly. Muttered something he couldn't distinguish under her breath and started across the room. At the drawers, she stopped and rummaged through her clothes. Didn't care that Kamui was watching as she pulled out another gun, much to his surprise, and pushed it into the holster. As if she hadn't done anything wrong, she walked back to the bed and inched onto it. Nearly to his mouth, but his palm mushed into the middle of his face as he turned his head.

"I feel like you're hiding something from me." Mumbling under his breath, Kamui glanced back at the woman. One sharp eye was fixed on him. Warning him that if he didn't move his hand she was going to retaliate. But maybe if she did, she wouldn't leave. He'd noticed that she hadn't been sleeping in the bed for the past two nights. She'd been somewhere else, doing unknown things that she wasn't sharing with him. Fun things, probably. Then it hit him.
Secrets. Sleeping somewhere separate from him.

Was it an affair?
His body recoiled in horror, and left the woman glaring at him without so much as a word.

Abuto? Was it Abuto? Ryu? Had they taken advantage of Kamui's downfall and stolen his Human for their own amusement? She had probably been annoyed with his lack of strength and tried to upgrade to the second strongest on his ship. Who was the second strongest? As the questions and analysis swirled in his head, Ame's voice cut into his thoughts.

"Are you listening to me?"
"Oh," Barely managing the word, Kamui peered at the woman. "yeah..."
"You lying sack of shit, no you weren't. I said I'll be back in an hour or so. Do you want something while I'm out?"

Still staring at the woman, Kamui tried to straighten his head. No. She wouldn't do that to him. Ame was honest. Too much so, at times. She would never do that to him. Not until she killed him.

"No, I'm fine."
Nodding once, Ame leaned up. Her weight left the bed as she returned to the opposite end of the room and pulled on a pair of finger-less gloves.
"If I'm not back in three hours, forget about me. Okay?"

When Kamui didn't answer, Ame slipped back to his side, still tugging at her gloves. Was that a warning? Was she going out to decide whether she wanted to stay with him or not? He should have known. Bringing her back to earth only gave her an opportunity to leave him. What if she'd found a human? Planned a whole life out and was going to bear his kids?

"Hey," As he was thinking the woman's lips pressed against his, and her hand laced through his loose hair. When she pulled back, she gazed into the azure pools of his eyes and murmured a line that triggered every alarm in his brain. "I love you."

Sirens were blaring in the man's head. Ame started to pull away, but he grabbed her without thinking.

Snatched back, Ame found herself face to face with the man and being stared down. They paused, both watching one another as if sizing each other up, but Ame was far more startled than he had expected. Then she was pulled over. Fully into the bed and trapped under the man. She started to protest. Had barely managed a single syllable when his body rocked against hers and her hands were dragged over her head. Surprising as it was, Ame was back into the high she hadn't experienced in so long. Being consumed by a force greater than herself and pinned by her wrist by the only man that could do it properly. Her hands were dragged over her head and secured into the pillows, and Kamui's fingers threatened to invade the band of her pants at any second if she didn't obey whatever he had in mind.

And she wasn't fighting.

"You're being suspicious." The sinister glare that had settled on her did nothing to discourage her from her secrecy. "Where are you going?"
"To the grocery store." Without missing a beat, Ame snarked the words up at the man, delighted when he yanked her belt lose. The button of her pants nearly popped off as he snatched it open, and the woman pressed herself into the mattress. She was going to be late. This couldn't happen right now. She wanted him so badly, and desperately craved refusing him until he took her. Especially if it got him worked up. Angry enough to rough handle her. But she needed to leave. Her smart-assery earned another stern glare, and the look alone was enough to convince her to stay. Maybe she could do this until he took her. Bully him until he couldn't stand it any more and decided to teach her a lesson.

"Do you really want to do this right now?" Kamui's voice was low. A warning.

Yes, Ame wanted to breath. Yes she did. She would do it until he ripped her clothes off; just like he used to.

"What do you mean? I'm not doing anything, Captain." The look he gave her when she sneered the title was delicious in every sense of the word. When Ame tugged against her restraints and moved her hips against him, Kamui didn't respond. Was possibly too annoyed to answer her. Exactly how she liked him. She couldn't reach him from where was was, and was entirely helpless against him. Subjected to his mercy. But then he released her. Was too wise for her games. To Ame's dismay, Kamui turned over and left her there; breathless and to the point of begging.

He muttered something along the lines of "Fine, go", and Ame resigned into herself. This wasn't getting any better.

After Kamui's odd display and abandonment of dominance, Ame wound up at the snack shop. The moment she walked in, she saw the raven haired woman seated at the bar. Relaxed and waiting. She scoped the place out before taking a seat beside the familiar steel framed subject of her attention. Greetings were exchanged with Otose, and alcohol was refused. She wasn't going to impair herself while being threatened. Even if it wasn't obvious. Instead of acknowledging her upon arrival, Iori kept her elbows on the bar and nursed her cup. Focused on the glass that sat before her and didn't speak for what could have been seconds or hours; Ame wasn't sure. They appeared to be the only ones aside from the staff. Otose sat back, smoking a cigarette and minding her own business.

Just as Ame thought she had turned into a ghost, Iori raised a lax hand to the elderly woman behind the bar.

"She'll have a whisky. Same as me."

Glancing over, Ame studied the dark tendrils of hair that swept down Iori's back. She was just as pretty as Ame remembered. Delicate, yet dignified beyond her past could ever have led her. Otose paused at the order. Looked to Ame for confirmation, but when she received none, obliged. The shot glass tapped onto the wooden counter, and Ame offered her thanks. Met the older woman's skeptical gaze, but the question was abandoned before it was vocalized.

"No gun this time?"
"Don't sound so hopeful." As dryly as the woman asked, Ame shot her inquiry down. She wasn't that careless.
Iori finally turned to Ame and loosely motioned from the shot up towards Ame's head.
"Drink."

Clenching her jaw, Ame considered whether Otose would be in on a small scale conspiracy. Maybe helping Iori. Drug her booze to make her an easy target for the pickings. Then she lifted the glass to her mouth. Discreetly sniffing the liquid, Ame concluded one thing and one thing only. Definitely alcohol.

"It's not poisoned." Matter-of-factly, Iori shot down Ame's hesitation, as if musing to herself. She watched as Ame sipped the drink, then chided her at her restraint. "All of it."

A sideways glance was offered as Ame again, listened to the woman, then set her glass on the table. Undivided attention was set on Iori's cheeky grin that had appeared as suddenly as the woman had just days before. The pirate leaned onto the back of her chair and her elbow hung over the backrest as she sighed.

"Just like old times."
This was ridiculous.
"We're missing a few people." Ame murmured back to her, and equally soft, Iori responded.
"All of us are here."

Though she didn't want to hear it or admit it, the sentence struck her as a major revelation. She was right. They were the only ones left. Everybody was there, and it boiled down to the two of them. Iori didn't leave enough time for the epiphany to hit home. She glided over the topic as if it didn't matter and never had.

"He was paying for his son's protection. But when the payments stopped we had no choice."
Suddenly alarmed, Ame felt her entire body stiffen. The captain? Her old captain... She had known he had a son and that his mother had passed away shortly after birth. The last she knew, everything had been fine. He was a terrible dad; no family sense about him. Knocked up a married chick and skipped out. But what he lacked in morals and character, he made up for on the battlefield. Even if he was a jerk, everybody wanted him on their team.

Iori sloshed the whisky in her glass around, fondly staring down at it, then tossed it back in one gulp. The moment the cup was on the bar, another round was ordered and Ame's glass was filled as well.

"What did you do to him?" Trying to maintain an impartial expression and tone, she raised her drink again; far less hesitant this time. Something told her that she'd need a drink to get through the details. A low chuckle graced her ears, and Iori fixed her overly refined chocolate eyes on Ame again, still smiling. She hated those eyes. The eyes of a liar. Of somebody that would do anything to get what they wanted. Even more, she hated the puckered, healed over scar on Iori's neck and that even now, after so many years, she could vividly recall the feel of it against her lips.

Before she was a psychopathic, boyfriend killing traitor.

"Oh, he's fine." Softly cooing the words the way she always did when she knew she had managed to wind Ame's nerves in a bunch, Iori brought her drink to her mouth. Let it frame her pale lips and eyed Ame. The moment she did, Ame knew exactly what was being done. She abruptly averted her gaze and muttered into her own drink.

"That won't work on me any more." She threw her drink back. Took the edge off.

A low snort sounded. Far too amused for comfort.

Iori was nothing like Kamui. They were nearly opposites, their only common trait being that they didn't care about appearances. Never stopped to pay a single thought to how people reacted to their actions, or felt after they destroyed lives. But where Kamui was forceful, Iori liked to poke until others turned aggressive. Or at least thought they were. She would still prod and instigate the entire time, playing coy until you could take it no more. Kamui was better. Ame hated the desire game. That side of it, at least. Iori was disgusting, in all of her beauty, and her games were as cruel as her methods. The things she had made Ame do for her could never be reversed.

"Where is he?"
"Safe. For now."

The vague threat carried a singsong lilt that did nothing to settle Ame's nerves. If anything, she found herself more jittery. She didn't even remember the kid's name. He wasn't her responsibility. Another stream of whisky danced over their glasses, and Ame immediately took hers. Eye contact slipped between her and Otose, only lasting for a fraction of a second. She was on to them.

"He belongs with his uncle."
"I agree." Again with the teasing answers. They both knew that Iori was calling the shots. She could deliver the boy with a single word, yet here she was. Pretending that her moral compass hadn't been smashed on a rock and lost out at sea.
"You're just as fucked up as I remember. No respect for the dead."
"The dead don't care about respect." Depth returned to Iori's voice. The moment she'd spoken, it was as if she caught herself. The grave tone faded, and she sank back into the bar. "You want to help him, don't you? We can work something out. Like old times." Nothing about the old times was particularly enchanting. There was no reason to be fond of their past. "I already have a job for you."

A tap at Ame's ankle drew her attention down to the bar stool. She wasn't surprised at the sight of Iori's boot, slithering up her leg. Another drink was tossed down her throat and Ame moved away from the woman's touch.

A fleeting spark of hurt crossed Iori, and through rehardened eyes, Ame stared her down. She had no obligation to help the kid. She didn't care. It had nothing to do with her. What was one bastard child compared to the rest of the world? Compared to her life? If she kept sneaking around, Kamui would grow more suspicious and she didn't know how much time she had before he recovered. Until they left...

That just meant that she had to work quickly.

"I'll take the kid. How much?"
"He's not for sale. Not for money." A pause filled the air, and the room grew tense. Ame could see Otose pretending to rearrange the liquor bottles behind the bar. Didn't buy it for a minute. "Labor, maybe." An envelope was pulled from Iori's coat and slid onto the table. Ame took hold of it after a moment of contemplation. Didn't know what else to do.

"Fine." Biting the word off, Ame leaned her elbow onto the bar to leave. The moment she did, a palm slapped over her forearm and held her in place. She could feel the nails digging into her skin, intentionally painful and only there for a reaction that she refused to provide. Chocolate eyes drilled into her and she held her ground as Iori reconstructed her calm demeanor. This must not have been going how she hoped.

"You really didn't come back to me... You weren't even going to tell me."
Silence echoed through the room. Ame did nothing but peer back at the woman as she leaned into her; dangerously close. A subtle sweetness hung around her, as it always had, but Ame pushed the thought to the back of her mind. "Come home."

Abruptly pulling away and standing, Ame took hold of Iori's glass. She downed it in one go and slapped it on the bar before she uttered a line so harsh that she knew she would pay for it.

"You are not my home anymore."

If Iori's face contorted, Ame didn't stick around to see. What she did notice was a certain white haired man off in the corner booth of the bar, staring at nothing in her line of view. Once outside, Ame indulged her own curiosity and pulled the letter open. Found herself horrified but not surprised at its contents. Nothing but a name.

Just like old times.