If you have stumbled across this story by accident, I apologize. You should go read One Piece and Bleach, otherwise...well, none of this will make sense.

I offer no other apologies. This is one of three-four stories I'm currently working on, so it won't be updated as frequently as if, say, I only worked on one story at a time (sorry).

I'm honestly surprised someone hasn't done something like this yet though. Zeesh.

Enjoy...if you can.

Abarai Renji wasn't one to shy away from conflict or a challenge. Normally, he was the one in the middle of such things, either by association with a certain Strawberry Idiot, or by his ambition to surpass his own Captain.

However, even though he didn't consider himself a coward, he was wary at the offer that was put before him in the strangest of circumstances.

"Lemme fight ya. If I win, you take me with you so I can fight the others."

"And if ya lose?"

"Then ya leave me here to die. You in, Shinigami?"

He was in a remote part of a Real World, on a small island that was literally in the middle of nowhere. It was nice enough for an island, he supposed. Tall palm trees, beautiful white beaches, fruit on every branch of a tree, and exotic wildlife inhabited this island.

Well, at least they used to. Until today.

The palm trees were all uprooted, looking as if a giant baby had simply knocked them over or had used them for it's own personal dominoes set. The sand held craters in every other odd space, and there was even the odd little pile that suggested that someone (whether before or after all Hell broke lose) had attempted to build a sand castle. As for the wild animals, Renji was fairly certain they wouldn't be back out from hiding for a long time...if they hadn't been tossed into the sea or ripped to shreds.

Sighing, Renji checked to make sure Zabimaru was tucked securely at his side before venturing into the shell-shocked jungle.

He had been on the verge of refusing this assignment. Lieutenants were hardly ever sent to the real world to reap. As he had argued with his Captain, it was overkill.

But, he was here. Because they were still recovering from the war, and because Captain Kuchiki had declared (in that frosty way of his that drove Renji up the wall) that since Renji was 'dying' to do something other than paperwork, then this would suffice.

"Had to open my trap," Renji growled at himself as he tried to track where the activity had led. Judging from the various impact marks and cuts, there was more than one combatant involved.

The redhead blinked in surprise at some of the damage to the landscape. The damage was consistent with swords, but on such a level...to cut through stone, rock, and trees in single sweeps...

Now the fuktaicho was interested in his assignment. He sensed an energy about the air, but it wasn't...reiatsu from Soul Reapers, Espada, or Hollow. This was...

He blinked as he realized he couldn't really place what he was feeling. Then, with a careless shrug, he continued on.

Renji realized he was getting closer to...whatever had caused all this damage. He was finding splashes of burgundy in the sand, or against the destroyed stump of a tree.

He continued on for another quarter of an hour, becoming more somber as the blood grew more abundant, and fresher.

Renji paused just outside a small clearing, eyes narrowed as he took in the form that was hunched over a log.

Renji was fairly sure it was human- the arms, legs, torso, and head were there in all the right places. The cursing coming from it was certainly human enough.

But, this man...Renji's mouth turned up in a feral grin. This man must be a demon of some sort. No one could have survived that much blood loss, nor done that much damage to their surroundings with only two...wait, three swords.

Not to mention, the guy had mossy green hair.

Yup, definitely not human.

This was going to be interesting, he thought with a toothy smirk as he strode into the clearing, Zabimaru out and ready.

Shit. Damn. Fuck. Idiot. Fucker. Holy Shit, fucking cock-sucking fucker son of a bitch!

The pain didn't bother Zoro. The pain never really did.

The defeat was what was tearing him apart.

He had lost to Mihawk- AGAIN. And it seemed, this time with no friends there to help him out...he would be unable to fulfill his promise to Kuina.

"No," he whispered, gripping the log beneath him for support. He slipped, his hands cut and soaked with blood- his blood- and he fell. He let out a grunt as even more blood splashed onto his already covered face.

He could only remember one time when he had been this bad off. And that had been nothing. This...was somehow different.

This could kill him. This could keep him from keeping his promise.

Zoro shivered as he felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather.

Ah, this he was familiar with. He was going into shock.

Now all he had to do was get up-

He collapsed, hitting his head against the log. "...fucking shit," he growled.

"You're close," a low voice rumbled above him.

Zoro tried to breathe in, to help focus his eyes enough to see who it was. He finally got enough of a breather to look up into the face

Where was that stupid, shitty cook when you needed him? He'd laugh his ass off at this chump, Zoro thought dimly.

Black kimono and hakama, a single sword at his side, absurdly red hair that was up behind his head held back by a white bandana. And oh god, the eyebrow tattoos...

"Eh, Pineapple head?"

The somber, serious expression on the stranger's face slipped for a moment.

"Oi! Where do you get off calling me Pineapple Head, eh, Moss Head?!"

For some reason, Zoro was able to forget his wounds for the moment.

"What else am I supposed to call you? You show up outta nowhere and act all mysterious and 'you're close'. The hell does that mean, eh?!"

"It means you're close to death, you gay wad!"

"Oi! Where do you get off calling me THAT?!!"

"...you're wearing earrings in your gay ear-"

"THE HELL??!! YOU accgh!" Zoro gasped, blood clogging his throat and choking his last words. He forced the stuff out, and spat, gasping in more air.

"I don't plan on dyin' yet," he growled.

"You're wounds and spiritual pressure say otherwise," the eyebrow freak stated.

"The fuck you talkin' about? Who are you?"

"Abarai Renji, fuktaicho of the sixth division of the thirteen guards of Soul Society, and Soul Reaper."

"Roronoa Zoro, first mate to Captain Straw-hat Luffy and attempting to become the world's greatest swordsman," Zoro coughed, sitting up at long last.

The man, Renji, moved to help him, but Zoro swatted his hand away. "Eh, wait. Soul Reaper? You mean...Shinigami? Ha," Zoro laughed. "Sure sure. Next you'll tell me that you can fly AND swim."

Renji gave him an odd look. "I can walk in the air by-"

"Whatever," Zoro interrupted, leaning back against the log. He shifted his various body parts, trying to come up with a mental tally of how much damage he had sustained and how bad.

Let's see...

Broken ribs, punctured lung probably, several stab wounds that were fairly deep, a dislocated shoulder, and a nice sized lump on his head where he had hit the log.

He'd had worse. He'd live...if he didn't die from his body going into shock.

"Hey, eyebrow freak, gimme a pull?" the swordsman asked, pointing to the arm that he kept limp at his side.

"Dislocated shoulder?" Renji queried, already knowing the answer.

"Yup."

Renji sheathed his weapon, sighing as he plodded over to Zoro's side.

"You seem the type to know that this'll hurt, so you know the drill. Count of three, then I yank."

Zoro nodded, and relaxed as Renji guided the arm out, and counted softly under his breath.

Zoro let out an intake of air as Renji pulled earlier than he expected, and with a loud crack, his shoulder was back was it was supposed to be.

"Bloody cock-sucking mother fucker," Zoro hissed as he breathed in.

"You're welcome."

The swordsman shifted his arm, then the shoulder, not blinking or wincing as some remaining phantom pain throbbed. He would be sore for a while.

He glanced up in surprise at a tearing noise. Renji crouched before the green-haired man, sleeveless now, and began to bind up the swordsman's more severe wounds.

"Thought you were a Soul Reaper? In't this against the rules or somethin'?" Zoro muttered, sitting still.

"Am. I cleanse souls that have already died. You're not dead yet, and it's not like I can jus' sit around and do nothin' while you suffer," the red head shrugged. "Less you wanna die?"

"Na, I'm good thanks."

"So, ya wanna be the best swordsman in the world, huh?" Renji asked as he gingerly tilted Zoro's head down to look at the lump.

"Yeah..."

"So why'd ya decided to lose?"

Steam rushed out of Zoro's ears as he glared at the red head.

"I didn' 'decide' to lose!"

Renji offered him a feral grin, which Zoro returned.

Two feral men, one a mongrel and the other a demon, stared at each other for several long moments, neither backing down.

One had centuries of running alone in the streets, leading a gang of young kids, being down-trodden and had been under the command of a stuck-up, cold noble that had one of the prettiest Bankai's in the Gotei 13.

The other had little over two decades of traveling, hunting dangerous men, doing intense training, and being under the command of a hyperactive, always-hungry-for-meat teenage boy.

It was a fair tossup.

"If ya didn't decide to lose, then why didja?"

Zoro's grin fell off his face, and he looked down at his knees, frowning. "I...wasn't strong enough. I've never been strong enough."

"Heh, then I'll just sit here an' wait on ya."

Zoro glanced up at the red-head, who had taken a seat on the log, drawing out his sword and starting to polish it.

"What?"

"Well, if yer not strong enough, then ya're gonna die. So I gotta wait on ya, ya asshole."

"I'm not gonna die!" Zoro roared, spitting out more blood. He leaned back against his log, panting slightly as he fought to stay awake.

"Then prove it," Renji breathed. "Prove that you're strong enough to live through this, and move on. Prove to me, and yerself, that you can become the greatest in the this world."

"I will," Zoro muttered. "...there's more than one world?"

Renji nodded, and got up, and beginning to gather dry wood. "Yup. I live in Soul Society you know. This is just one of many 'Real Worlds'."

"Swordsmen where you're from?" the green-haired man murmured, eyeballing Renji's sheathed weapon.

"Some of the best," the lieutenant proclaimed, kneeling next to his pile of wood, pointing his finger, and muttering something under his breath.

Zoro watched in surprise as a red flame ignited the pile and roared into a happy, warm blaze almost immediately.

"Nice trick," he grunted.

"And I'm not that great at kidu," Renji smirked.

"Kidu?"

"Eh, Demon Magic."

Zoro snorted, and turned to look back into the dancing flames, lost in thought.

The shinigami continued to search for wood, and once darkness had began to fall, wandered off to look for some dinner. Zoro managed to nod off during this time, waking up again when the freak had stomped back into the clearing, a dead boar being dragged behind him.

"So, what's it like bein' a shinigami?" Zoro asked later that night around a mouthful of meat. He was already feeling better; the danger of going into shock had passed, and he could already feel his wounds beginning to knit themselves back together.

Renji shrugged, and squeezed some more pineapple juice onto his chunk of food. "Don't really know what ta tell ya. Normally when you're a lower level one, you go to the real world to reap souls that have been left behind or to purify Hollows."

"Hollows?"

"Souls that have degraded to more...basic instincts," Renji explained awkwardly. "You know how when someone's lover or sibling dies, and they follow a year or so later?"

Zoro nodded.

"That's normally from a Hollow, not grief. Hollows will eat souls if they can."

"Ah. What about you? Didn't you say you were a commander or something?"

"Lieutenant!" Renji barked. "But normally the higher ups don't come to the real world, mainly because we tend to be very powerful. We stay behind, doing paperwork unless there's a real need for us."

"So why are you here then?" Zoro asked blandly, eyebrow cocked. "You piss someone off or what?"

"No," Renji gritted out. "This disturbance was considered odd, so they wanted to make sure they could send someone who could take care of themselves."

"Sure, that's what they always tell cannon fodder," Zoro droned.

"Shudup!"

The rest of dinner was spent getting into petty arguments, ranging from sword techniques to who had the worst hair.

Renji wasn't sure when it happened, maybe while he was ranting about juice boxes, but Zoro had nodded off, and was beginning to snore like a drunken sailor.

Muttering to himself, Renji took guard, occasionally checking on the fire or adding more wood.

He was impressed when Zoro woke up the next morning. Sometimes humans would get injured, fall asleep, and never wake up.

This Zoro was...interesting. And potentially dangerous.

The next few weeks involved a simple routine: Zoro would wake up in the morning, eat what Renji had prepared him without comment, check his wounds, and then he would practice his training as well as he could until dinner, where he and Renji would discuss various things of their different lives, and then Zoro would drop off into dreamland while Renji wandered around doing odd things before turning in himself.

"Oy, Renji?" Zoro asked some time later, after checking his wounds and finding them nearly healed.

"What, tea-bag head?" Renji grumbled from the fire pit.

"I wanna go to Soul Society with you."

"Bakarou," Renji snorted immediately. "You ain't going yet. You're not dying anymore, so ya gotta wait until you die."

"I thought you said I could still go though?" Zoro asked.

Renji frowned. When he had begun his tale of Ichigo coming to rescue Rukia from her execution, Zoro had nodded off before he could really get started.

Apparently he HAD been listening.

"Yeah," he agreed slowly. "But it's against the rules. Not only would I get in a heap of trouble, you'd probably be executed."

"I wanna go," Zoro said bluntly.

"Why? I thought you weren't ready to die yet," Renji sneered. "Promises to keep and all that."

"I don't," Zoro replied. "But I thought if I could beat your best swordsmen in Soul Society, then I could stand a better chance against Mihawk."

Renji couldn't fault his simple logic in that. While this Mihawk seemed more inhuman than Zoro, he didn't have kidu or a soul slayer. If Zoro could defeat the fighters of Soul Society when they had strength, magic, AND countless decades of experience on him...

"Renji," Zoro said, very serious and very somber now. "Lemme fight ya. If I win, you take me with you so I can fight the others."

The red-head narrowed his eyes at Zoro, weighing the risks, and the possible outcomes. "And if ya lose?"

"Then ya leave me here to die," Zoro stated simply. He leaned forward, offering Renji a very feral smile, all teeth and fangs. "You in, Shinigami?"

Renji felt his mouth mimicking Zoro's smile. "I'm in, grass head."