Orihime hurried through the darkening streets of Karakura, her steps echoing off the cobblestones among the block and stone buildings. She knew the dangers of being out too late, even in a relatively safe town like Karakura. It was a four hour ride from the coast, but with Aizen's pirate hordes razing more and more villages inland, no one felt secure. Especially not teenage girls alone at night.

She hoped Tatsuki was already at her room, where they always ate supper together at the boarding house in which Orihime lived. She knew Tatsuki could take care of herself, but even her tomboyish friend was no match for the invading pirates that had been spreading terror through the countryside of late in ever increasingly large rings of destruction.

She hitched the strap of her bag of supplies over her shoulder and quickened her step, pulling her skirt higher to allow her to skip faster along the side street. Summer was hot in the evening air, the heat from the day still hanging in the town. From afar voices rose, excited cries that made her turn with relief to the alley down which she lived. She couldn't determine the nature of the cries, whether joyful or not, but she preferred to think them of merriment.

She climbed the cutback of stairs that led to the fourth floor where her room was, the sounds of alarm now sounding truer in the cries as her eager hands fumbled with the latch. She heard heavy footsteps enter the alley from below behind her. She leaned to the door of the small apartment, hoping the growing shadows of the elm tree that canopied the alley would hide her in the dusk.

The footsteps paused below, and Orihime quietly fit the key in the door lock and opened it with minimal squeaking. She let herself in, turning immediately to lock the door.

"Orihime Inoue?"

She spun at the man's voice, turning so quickly that her bag strap slid down her shoulder, resting at her elbow as she stared back at the intruder.

Ulquiorra Schiffer stepped out of the shadow by her bed, green eyes falling over her as she turned back to the door.

Orihime's hand pulled at the door latch, but in a fleeting second Ulquiorra crossed the small simple room and pushed it shut.

"We'll leave when I say we do," he said, watching her recoil to the side of the room by the bed.

She pressed her back to the rough stone wall, clutching her bag close to her ample chest, watching him study her. "Who, who are you?"

Ulquiorra gave her a thorough scrutiny, eyes moving over the somewhat disheveled peasant blouse of her sable dress cinched tight by the wide black belt at her waist, the skirt falling full past her knees, to her sandaled feet. "You are Orihime Inoue?"

She nodded, moving back tighter to the wall as he crossed the few steps to her. Despite the black boots, pants, and smoky gray jacket over his white tunic, she knew the sword at his hip was not military issue. At least, not Seireitei army issue.

He nodded, glancing to her bag. "You're the weaver's daughter that is skilled in the lost healing arts?"

The description made Orihime nod slowly. She hadn't been called such in a very long time, since before her brother's death, and never by someone who looked liked this man.

"The fiancée of Ichigo Kurosaki?"

It was a title she hadn't quite gotten used to yet, but she nodded.

For the first time the hint of a smile came to the man's face, eyes rising to the top of her head, nodding at the small barrettes at either side holding her copper auburn hair back from her face. "Yes, I am."

Something of a chuckle came from him as he looked from her to the room. The furnishings were sparse and unadorned, the bed and a stool by a small table with a three armed candelabra of wrought iron, a few dresses hanging from a hook on the wall. "This is how the affianced wife of the town's largest stable owner's son lives?" He shook his head, nodding to the candleholder. "The fanciest piece is a blacksmith's handiwork?"

Orihime didn't look at it. "It was a gift."

Ulquiorra nodded. "The blacksmith's apprentice. A friend of yours?"

She nodded reluctantly.

"The gift of a lover? You take a blacksmith's apprentice as a lover when you're betrothed to Ichigo Kurosaki?"

"No. Chad is a friend. Ichigo knows he's my friend. There's nothing illicit about Chad and me."

"You're kept in squalor while Kurosaki rests in his feather bed," he said, eyes going to her own cot of patchwork quilts. "You must be eager for marriage. Move into that impressive estate at the edge of town. The swan ponds, the fountain under the willows, your choice of the best horseflesh in the country. The same stable that stocks the king's stable," he said slowly, stepping closer until his shirt was nearly touching where the white chemise peeked from the top of her dress at her chest. "Is that what you want?"

She looked to each of his eyes, the faint light of the room from the window behind him shadowing his face, making his eyes appear merely dark, hardly green at all with his proximity to her now.

"Or would you rather your life serve a higher purpose?"

He stepped away as the door opened and a large figure shoved his way in. Ulquiorra looked to Yammy as he entered, his large hulk taking up much of the room, even more with the unconscious form of Tatsuki slung over his shoulder, kicking the door shut behind him.

"No! Tatsuki!" Orihime cried, taking a step toward the girl without thinking.

Ulquiorra's arm snapped out in front of her, his face sober. "Good. You care for her."

Orihime watched as Yammy deposited the black-haired girl on the bed in an ungracious heap, her tan skirt settling over her upper thighs. Yammy moved to her, one meaty hand reaching for her rumpled blouse.

"Don't touch her," Orihime said before he could complete his gesture on the girl.

"Not yet," Ulquiorra told him briskly.

Yammy gave him a dark look, grunting as he remained at the bedside, his small eyes moving over Orihime with new appreciation. "Much better, this one is."

Ulquiorra looked to Orihime's terrified face as she watched Tatsuki's unconscious form. "The question now is how much do you care for your friend? For your hometown, Orihime Inoue?"

She looked to him, her bag pulled close to her waist before her. "Very much."

"Enough to leave it? To leave them?" He cocked his head to one side, looking again to the chemise that tufted from the top of her collar. "You can provide a protection for them that no one else can."

Orihime's arms crossed around her bag tighter, looking to Tatsuki's helpless figure, her fingers aching to pull the girl's skirt down around her legs.

"You know Captain Aizen's pirate ships have been marauding along the coast for months now," Ulquiorra added, watching her attention flit to him quickly. "You've heard of the towns he's left, the aftermath of what's been left."

A slow numbing began to overtake Orihime's mind as his words sunk into her brain. "He's looking for some treasure that doesn't even exist."

"It exists," Ulquiorra said as Yammy made a growling noise. "Captain Aizen has, shall we say, become interested now in something of a consolation prize that Karakura offers. Something that you can offer, in exchange for leaving this docile little village untouched."

Orihime frowned, her eyes going to Tatsuki on the bed.

"Yes, it would extend to your friends, Orihime," he added, her attention still on the unconscious girl. "You accompany me -- of your own will -- to Captain Aizen, and we, in turn, leave Karakura in the unscathed manner it is now."

Her frown deepened, fingers clamping white-knuckle tight around her bag. She looked to him. "What does he want with me?"

Ulquiorra shrugged slightly. "That he did not specify. But as you're of a," he said, leaning toward her, making her ease away, "marriageable age, perhaps that."

"But I'm engaged."

He shook his head. "It'll be broken. Annulled by you. Can you write?"

She nodded.

"Not many young women hold the power you do at this moment, Orihime," he said, watching her decisiveness waver. "You can walk away from this town and save it, or you can remain, and accept whatever the Midori, The Pantera, and the Bleeding Sister will do to it." His voice dropped lower. "And I can assure you, they will do quite a lot of damage. Beginning with Yammy and your friend here."

She shook her head hastily, her breath catching as Yammy laughed. Her gaze softened as she looked to Tatsuki, her mind running cold as she turned through the proposal Ulquiorra had given her. "Marriage?"

"Whatever Captain Aizen wants, Orihime Inoue," he said. "Your forbidden arts, your influence, your future, all of it."

She shook her head. "They aren't forbidden arts," she said, looking to him. "They're only forgotten."

He nodded. "What's your answer?"

Orihime looked around at the small room, her home since her brother had died despite Ichigo's attempts at bringing her into better quarters, or even a room in the Kurosaki residence. He was a friend like that, always had been to her since she'd first sneaked into the back pasture of his family's stables.

But it wasn't squalor, or even a pitiable residence. She looked at the plain stone walls, the fringed curtain she'd hand-knotted over the course of a month back when Sora had first died, to the wash basin where she mixed the precious bottles of ancient healing properties that had been handed down to her from her grandmother.

She looked then to Tatsuki lying on the bed. She took a deep breath and turned hesitantly to the man awaiting her answer. "Who are you?"

"Ulquiorra Schiffer, captain of the Midori," he said, bowing slightly.

She'd heard of him, of his ship. She'd heard of The Pantera and the Bleeding Sister, too, all pirate ships back on the waters after Captain Aizen had freed the captains from assorted prisons. She tried to keep her voice from trembling when she spoke.

"Will I come back?" she finally asked.

"No."

She nodded, feeling her soul sinking within her. "I'll go."

"Good. You can send back your annulment later. Now," Ulquiorra said, looking to the bag she held, "we leave. You can take a few items. Your craft necessities."

"But my clothes, and --"

"You'll be provided for." He glanced around at the few shelves on the walls. "Bring with you what you need."

Orihime had it all already, she knew she did, that there was nothing else she needed. It was always in the bag, those precious bottles and powders whose restorative powers were forgotten by even the most astute apothecaries of her time. Also, a few other items, some of which were not nearly so functionally important.

She looked to Yammy, who was still leering at Tatsuki on the bed. She looked back to Ulquiorra. "Captain Schiffer, he won't hurt her?"

Ulquiorra shook his head. "He's coming with us now."

She nodded, and then reached to Tatsuki and pulled her friend's skirt down past her knees, as far as the material would go. Yammy gave her a grumble.

"I'm ready to go," Orihime said quietly, glancing around the room for the final time.

"Go on ahead and get the horses," Ulquiorra said to Yammy.

The large man threw Tatsuki a longing look and headed for the door.

Ulquiorra turned to Orihime, watching her eyes rest on her friend. "I'll tell you now, woman, that once aboard my ship, and any ship under Captain Aizen's flags, there is no quarter given you other than what that captain allows," he said in a deadly serious tone.

She looked to him, swallowing the lump in her throat as she nodded, the air of the darkened room seeming to escape her attempts at breathing.

"I don't think you understand," he said, looking to her hands clutching her bag at her chest. "There may be women among our crews, but you'll find no camaraderie there. All alliances on any of the ships Captain Aizen controls are to him, and no one else. If you escape onto any deck you'll no longer have the protection of the captain of that vessel."

She nodded, eyes going to Tatsuki before closing for a brief moment. "I understand."

The town streets were dark as Ulquiorra climbed into the saddle of the black horse just outside the alley street near Orihime's boarding house. He slipped his foot from the saddle stirrup and motioned for her to climb up. Orihime put her foot in the stirrup and took his arm as she swung up behind him, an awkward movement as she held her bag to her hip, her hair caught under its strap at her neck.

She settled more behind the saddle behind him, adjusting her skirt over her legs, flinching as he brought her arms around his waist and tied them in front of him by a cord. Loosely, she noted, not painfully tight, but enough to hold them around him. At their side Yammy climbed onto the back of a brown horse, a bit clumsily, she also noticed. In front of her Ulquiorra shook his head.

"You're like an ox on a sheep," he muttered at the ungainly man.

Yammy was preoccupied with the reins at the horse's mane before him.

"Let's go," Ulquiorra said.

Orihime didn't need her arms tied around the man in front of her to stay on a horse. She'd ridden a hundred times with her long-time friend Ichigo Kurosaki and alone. She also knew there was no point in breaking free of her promise to Captain Schiffer, as Tatsuki and the rest of Karakura would be at the mercy of dozens of pirates.

No one saw them leave down the streets. All attention was at the farther end of town, every neighbor who could see the blaze out their window looking to where the Kurosaki stables were crumbling to the hot flames licking high into the black night.

Ulquiorra noticed the brightness at the end of town as they left the gates and began the slight rise of the trade road, the smell of smoke growing strong on the rising wind. He halted his horse, turning to look at the disturbance.

"You said no one would get hurt if I agreed to go with you," Orihime said from behind him, following his gaze to look at the glimmer of fire in the distance.

"No one was supposed to," Ulquiorra said, a grim line coming to his mouth as his eyes searched the other side of town.

Yammy grunted. "Captain Grimmjow."

Ulquiorra nodded, turning his horse back to the road heading to the coast four hours away. "The idiot."