Welcome to my first fanfic. Rated M for adult themes and will only get more adult as I go *nudgenudgewinkwink* I do not own Bleach or any of it's characters.

Chapter 1 - More Lost than Won

Renji sat at his new desk in complete and utter shock. He'd made it. He had just been made 9th Devision Captain. The constant struggle to surpass his former captain, Byakuya Kuchiki, was at an end. To add to that, the fighting was at an end. Four weeks ago the incredible Kurosaki duo had ended Aizen's reign of terror. So the physical fighting was at an end as well.
While he was insanely happy about all this, Renji just couldn't help feeling a little lost. He just didn't know what to do with himself. With no strong adversity to overcome, nothing to struggle against, no measuring stick to stand up against, he just didn't know what he was meant to do with himself.
Renji placed his head on top of his folded arms, and willed himself to be calm. There's nothing wrong with a bit of peacefulness every once in a while, right? He thought to himself. He sighed, suddenly feeling inexplicably tired.
It was still early evening, and the recent promotions of so many of his friends, had resulted in one giant congratulations party that would start in a few hours.

Renji stood in the enclosed glade, still in his academy uniform. He was far from the seireitei, in the forests beyond the slums of the rukongai. Laying along a thick bough of a nearby tree, was the one he was looking for.
A lean slender body, smooth white skin, long blonde hair falling like a waterfall down over the tree. Renji took a sharp intake of breath, and the pale blue eyes opened. Slowly, sinuously, the naked limbs moved, to bring the enticing body to stand upon the tree branch. With a flash step he could barely see, the exposed body was wrapped in Renji's arms, warm soft lips pressing against his.
"Rikku..." he whispered into those lips.
"Sshh. One day, it won't be my name coming from your lips. I'm only teaching you how to love, before you meet The One." The soft voice whispered back.
"If you know so much, then spill the beans." Renji growled. Letting his hands travel down the willowy body, barely restraining himself from digging his nails into the soft flesh. The young woman laughed softly.
"Because he hasn't been born yet."
Before Renji could register what had been just said, the body in his arms changed. Taller, broader through the shoulders, well muscled arms replaced the slender willowy ones wrapped around his waist. A tickle from short hair, a flash of... orange?

Renji woke with a start so bad, he practically launched himself out of his chair, landing on the floor with a thud.
Ikkaku laughed out loud. Yumichika continued to brandish a long iridescent feather at Renji, tickling his nose with it.
"You're late for your own party, you know." Ikkaku scoffed at Renji.
"It's your party too, dumbass." He growled in response, while snatching the offending feather from Yumichika.
"Gimme that back!" The slight man whinged, trying to grab the feather back from the red-head. Renji stood up, and handed the feather back with a distasteful expression.
"You just don't appreciate pretty things Renji." Yumichika scolded, straightening out the crushed fibres of his peacock feather.
Renji rolled his eyes. He was going to kill whoever had given the narcissist that damn thing. He'd probably be running around drunk all night, tickling everyone with it. And if anyone fought back, and broke the stupid thing, Yumichika would throw a tantrum like no one's business, and Ikkaku would start throwing punches at whoever had upset his lover. Sure, he was glad that his friends were finally comfortable enough to come out of the closet, but why did they have to get more annoying while they were at it? When he voiced this to Matsumoto, the bouncy brunette gave Renji an exasperated expression, saying, "It's called being happy. You should try it sometime," before wandering off in search of more sake, and probably someone less grumpy to talk to.
In truth, he just really didn't feel like partying. Renji picked up the half empty bottle from the table in front of him, and headed out the door, un-noticed by the drunken revellers. As he stumbled along, Renji kept swigging from the bottle, finally falling ungracefully onto his backside in the graveyard.

"Ah Rukia." He sighed, "Whatever happened to us all?" The stone in front of him was impassive and un-answering as always.
Renji had last seen his childhood friend in the battle with what they had thought was the tenth espada, only to realise too late that he was actually the strongest of them all. As the enemy had continued to grow in size, and the mismatch became more and more apparent, they had still tried, knowing Ichigo was the only one who could end the war. Renji had been rendered unconscious, buried under piles of rubble. He returned to consciousness four days later, in the 4th Division Emergency Relief station. The war was over, and Rukia was gone. Her internal injuries had been so massive; she'd been unable to continue her own life force. She'd died, crushed under the rubble, not ten feet away from Renji. Yet he'd been the one to survive, while she had not. The memorial stone he now sat in front of was the same one a shaking Hanatarou had half-carried Renji to, when he'd woken, and asked about his friends. Damn Byakuya, not even telling Renji himself about Rukia's death, and then denying him the chance to grieve. The funeral had completed mere hours before Renji had awoken, and the first thing his then-captain had said to him was about work.
Renji hadn't even his favourite rival since he awoke. Ichigo had returned to the world of the living as soon as he was able, to deal with the situation there. From what he'd been told from others, Isshin's injuries were massive, and he had a less than twenty percent chance of recovering. Yuzu and Karin had escaped physically unscathed, but with the likelihood of losing their one remaining parent, they needed their older brother now more than anyone else did. Renji couldn't hold a grudge against Ichigo for not waiting for him to wake up, or even staying for Rukia's funeral.
No one in soul society really knew what exactly had happened in the final moments of the war, as the only three surviving people from that last clash had returned to the material world, and one had been lingering on death's door for the past few weeks. The official version was that Isshin and Ichigo had defeated Aizen and his single remaining subordinate, Gin Ichimaru. What Orihime was doing there, no one knew. But it was widely assumed that she had been following Ichigo, as usual, and had been the one to heal the boy of his injuries, before fainting when she ran out of spiritual energy. If anyone wanted to probe deeper, they'd have to ask Ichigo, and apparently he wasn't talking. Orihime had been questioned too, but had just kept offering to make everyone food, and couldn't stay on topic. The poor girl, thought Renji, the war had probably scattered her brain even more than it already was.

"Whatre we gonna do, Zabimaru?" Renji slurred. Talking to his zanpacto out loud.
-Funny you only talk to me these days when you're stinkin' drunk.-
"shuddup and gimme your opinion." Renji replied, swaying dangerously as he changed how he was sitting.
-For now, the only battle is in your thick head.-
"Very cryptic of you." Renji muttered, losing his fight against gravity, and face-planting the ground.
Renji's intoxicated mind wandered back to the dream he'd been having in his office, earlier that afternoon. He hadn't thought about Rikku Kira in decades. She was his friend Izuru's younger sister, so of course he'd never told anyone that he was sleeping with her. That girl was hot, he had to admit, though she did have a confusing sense of humour some time. Then one day, she disappeared. 'Withdrawn' was the official term, though everyone knew what that actually meant. He sometimes wondered why she'd been killed, but Kira didn't talk about it, and Renji wasn't about to poke his friend's emotional wounds. The weird thing about the dream was, that she'd never said anything so cryptic to Renji. On that particular day, they'd gotten straight to business, without a word said between them, so what was with the cryptic message? And the flash of orange?
Renji's mind gave up trying decipher the dream. In its inebriated state all he could come up with was Orange juice, and that definitely was not anything to with the cryptic message. Unless whoever he was supposed to be with really, really liked orange juice?
Not even moving, he began to snore.

Hisagi Shuuhei walked into the graveyard, knowing he'd find his new captain passed out there. His old friend had been doing that alot. The man didn't have any family in Soul Society anymore. Hinamori had died at the hands of, and in the arms of her childhood friend, the Captain of the 10th Division. Kira had long since stopped being himself, thanks to the baleful influence of Ichimaru. And now, Rukia had been taken permanently away. Shuuhei sighed, hoisting his unconscious captain onto his shoulder. He was sure it was quite a comical sight, considering how tall the Red haired man was, but with nothing else for it, he carried Renji back to his new quarters in the 9th Division Barracks.

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