Zoro pushed through the front door of his home. It was much larger than Sanji's small apartment by comparison, but Zoro couldn't help but feel he might have preferred the clean white walls and warm atmosphere the blond had made for himself there. Zoro's home lacked any of that; he'd kept it solely functional. It was a place to rest when he wasn't working, and nothing more.

Of course, Zoro was sure the blond probably got more visitors than he did. Zoro lived in a middle realm, a kind of other dimension that laid between Earth and the Heavens where God and many of the others lived. Death didn't really fit in among them, and his job needed him to remain somewhat close to hell. Where he lived now, some might call it purgatory, was central between all three places he needed to visit regularly, and therefore it was the most convenient location for Death to stay.

As convenient as the location was for him, however, very few of the others had any reason to come by this way, and most of his time here was spent in quiet and alone. Not that he was bothered by the solitude, frankly, he preferred it, but without anyone to entertain there was no reason to spruce up his living quarters. He'd kept things pretty much the same as they had been since he took up his role of Death and came here to stay.

The previous incarnation of Death had a poor taste in home building. The mansion Zoro currently lived in was large, impressive, and ridiculous. It was less of a mansion, really, and more of a castle, complete with turrets and battlements. It had large arching windows in dingy stained glass and spires that reached towards the sky. It was built out of dark stone, turned darker with age until the fortress had come to resemble the dreary, almost colorless land of this dimension.

The inside wasn't any better, wood stained so dark it was nearly black added accents to the already dark stone walls, giving the inside a closed feeling and a depressing atmosphere. The furniture was exactly as it had been since Zoro had come to live here; sparse, but each piece was ornate and reflected the almost gothic fashion of the mansion perfectly, and not one of them was comfortable in anyway.

The design and fashion of the place left much to be desired, but it served its purpose as a place for Zoro to rest, and that was all he needed it for. Still, being inside the dark stone halls and moving about the shadowed living space, he couldn't help but feel a pang of envy for Sanji's clean white walls and comfortable, simple furnishings. Maybe he should think about redecorating this place or rebuilding it all together. He'd been given the option when he first came to be here, but declined at the time to avoid inconvenience. Maybe he should reconsider…

It didn't matter for now, though. He wasn't here to linger for long anyway. He just needed to pick something up, and he'd be on his way. Or, that had been the plan until someone knocked one of the decorative suits of armor off of its pedestal and tipped Zoro off to their presence.

Death can move frighteningly fast when needed, and Zoro was on his home invader before they even had the chance to recover. He should have guessed who it was; there weren't many who would come into Death's home and even fewer that were so clumsy.

"Zoro!" The uninvited guest exclaimed. He was a young man with an unusually long nose, curly, dark hair, and skin much darker than Zoro's own. Of course that made sense, he spent a lot of time outside, delivering messages.

"Usopp," Zoro offered him a hand.

Usopp stared at it for a moment. "New gloves?" He asked in amusement before accepting Zoro's help.

Zoro might have tugged the guy to his feet a little harder than necessary, but he'd succeeded in wiping that smug look off the other's face at least.

"What are you doing here?" Zoro asked, looking despairingly down at the mess of armor the long-nose had created. He didn't have time to sort it out; he didn't want to be caught here by anyone else. It was bad enough Usopp had found him, although he should have known someone would have caught him here. He was lucky, actually, it could have been someone much more impressive.

"I know what you're thinking," Usopp scowled at him. "And for the record, I'm not here on business, I'm here as your friend."

'Friend' was a stretch, but Usopp was a pretty good guy. Zoro didn't go out of his way to socialize with anyone, and he wasn't usually fond of the kind of people who would purposely try to worm their way into a conversation with him, but Usopp seemed like a pretty genuine guy… if you disregarded half of what he said. He had a tendency to exaggerate truths or even outright lie, but his lies were so obvious you'd have to be an idiot to believe them.

How someone like Usopp got the position of a messenger, though, Zoro had no idea. Usopp's job was to relay information between the others. He came to see Zoro on business occasionally when there was something Zoro really needed to know, but usually Zoro's work was pretty efficient and independent from the other's, so there really wasn't much for him to be informed about.

Zoro had to wonder how reliable the messages from a guy so prone to storytelling really were, but Usopp was picked for his job the same way Zoro was picked for his, and there were powers there that even he couldn't argue with. Zoro just had to go on trust and a healthy dash of skepticism.

"Everyone's been looking for you, Zoro, and they seem pretty upset," Usopp explained. "I thought if I waited around here, I might be able to warn you."

"Thanks, Usopp," Zoro said. Although, he'd known from the moment he'd made his big decision that things would be this way. "Has the boss said anything?"

Now Usopp's face contorted into a concerned expression. "Actually, he's kind of… missing."

"Missing?" Zoro's frown deepened. "What the hell does that mean?"

"The same as you," Usopp shrugged. "He's fine. Apparently, he told Vivi he was going away for a little while, but everyone's nervous now that God and Death have both stepped off the plate."

"I'm still doing my job," Zoro grumbled. "I'm just not doing it from home is all."

"Sure," Usopp nodded. "If that was all, it might not be a big deal, but there's still the issue of the guy you refused to kill."

Zoro didn't respond. He folded his arms across his chest and made sure it was clear that he was done speaking. Usopp looked at him expectantly for a while before breaking eye contact under Death's intense gaze.

"Fine," Usopp finally said. "But you're back now, so I suppose the others can relax."

"I'm not back," Zoro corrected him, using this as an opportunity to move back down the hallway. Usopp followed, sputtering panic behind him, but at least Zoro could get what he needed while the messenger lost his mind.

"What?" Usopp asked. "You're not back? But you're here!"

"To pick up one thing," Zoro said, ducking through a doorway. This mansion was ridiculously massive, and after all the time he'd been here, he honestly could not remember where he'd put everything. This door opened into another spare bedroom, but Zoro was fairly sure he hadn't left it in one of those, so he moved on.

"You don't mean…?" Usopp's voice rose in pitch as the answer dawned on him. "How long do you plan on staying there?"

"A while," was all Zoro said to him in reply.

"Is this about that guy? You still won't kill him?" The messenger asked.

Zoro didn't respond, only continued his search, but he supposed his lack of response was an obvious answer. Even if it was, Usopp still lapsed into silence again, a troubled look on his face. Zoro wasn't going to address it though; his mind was made up, and nothing going on in heaven or on earth was going to stop him from following through with his plans. The others would be okay, and he would still get his work done on schedule, so there was no reason for him to give up now.

Zoro wasn't sure how many doors he tried before he finally found what he was looking for, but when he did, Usopp finally snapped out of his troubled stupor.

"You're really going to try to save this guy?" He asked as Zoro took what he needed from the large cabinet.

"Yes," Zoro said. He wasn't going to explain his actions, because he still hadn't entirely figured them out himself. Even if he had, this was his decision and not anyone else's business.

Usopp sighed heavily before speaking again. "Then I'll give you a heads up," Usopp tapped the side of his head so that Zoro knew what he meant. Usopp had kind of a telepathic radio that could tune into the other incarnations if they were broadcasting "official business". It helped him relay messages more quickly if there was some urgent business that needed taken care of. "They've been talking, and I don't think that guy is going to survive the day."

Zoro swore. He readied himself more quickly and strode quickly back to the front door. He should have known leaving Sanji was a bad idea, but he'd thought if he moved soon then the others wouldn't have made their move yet. So much for that, now he'd endangered Sanji recklessly.

"Hey! Zoro, wait!" Usopp followed after him, half running as Zoro hurried to leave. "What should I tell the others?"

"You didn't see me here," Zoro snapped. "Trust me, you'll only get yourself in trouble if you tell them the truth."

Usopp was quiet after that, and Zoro took that to mean agreement. Even if it wasn't, he didn't have time to spare now, he'd already been gone for far too long. Before he took that last step, however, he stopped to face Usopp again.

"Just… tell Vivi or something. At least someone will know. It's fine, I'm still doing my job."

"You're breaking the rules, Zoro," Usopp reminded him.

Zoro only shrugged before taking the last step, the one that took him from one dimension to another, and would deposit him on Earth, hopefully in time to save the blond.

Zoro emerged a few inches above the clear blue water of the pool Sanji worked in. He hovered there for barely a second before the gravity of Earth bore down on him and sent him into the blue depths with a splash. He didn't have time to be irritated with the fact that his clothing was now wet; if he materialized here, then there must have been a reason.

He emerged from the water and tried to make sense of his surroundings. Several onlookers were peering over the edge of the pool and a man with electric blue hair did his best to force his way through them, demanding answers the panicked crowd was too stunned to give. A few feet away from him a girl with long brown hair, fully suited in the equipment Zoro had seen Sanji wear before, treaded the water. Her hands were over her mouth, stifling gasping sobs as she stared down into the water below.

Zoro followed her gaze, spotting the shape of blond and blue floating limply near the bottom of the pool. Sanji wasn't moving, and Zoro didn't waste a second in diving into the water after him. He could only hope he was fast enough to reach him.

He was careful to make sure his sleeves were pulled down his arms and that his gloves had made the journey with him before he grabbed up the blond and shot off back to the surface. It would be a waste of time to accidentally kill the blond while trying to save him.

He broke the surface in a matter of seconds and handled Sanij's unconscious form up to a pair of waiting arms. Zoro got him out of the pool, but resuscitation wasn't something he was capable of. He could only hope the man with the blue hair – the one that had taken Sanji from him the moment they emerged – was. He pulled himself out of the water, his clothing sloshing water across the concrete below. A few of the onlookers offered him some assistance in the form of helping hands or dry towels, but he ignored them, dodging their bodies and forcing his way to where Sanji lay.

"Sanji! Come on bro!" The blue haired man muttered encouragingly, checking the blond over. The back of his opened shirt read "lifeguard", and he seemed to know what he was doing. Every one of his movements were precise and purposeful, even when he leaned over and exhaled a mouthful of air into the blond.

After a couple of tense minutes that seemed to stretch on for hours, Sanji coughed, spewing a mouthful of water onto the concrete beside him. Franky let out a cry of relief and tipped the blond's head to the side, allowing Sanji to cough up more of the fluid.

Sanji's eyes rolled as he regained his consciousness; disoriented and confused, he blinked twice, his eyes stopping on Zoro.

"What the hell happened?" He asked, weakly bringing one of his hands to his head. "I feel like absolute shit."

Franky snorted. "Well it's good to see your personality isn't damaged. Still as gentlemanly as ever," the blue haired man turned towards a group of the onlookers that were wearing the building's logo on their shirts. "Has anyone called the paramedics?"

"Paramedics?" Sanji frowned. "No! Don't call the paramedics!" He managed to call to one of the girls in the group that had moved to fulfill Franky's request. "I don't need the paramedics, I – Flare!" He shouted the last word, bolting upright in a flash and attempting to locate the person in question.

Sitting up so quickly, however, proved to be a very bad idea, and Sanji almost immediately rocked backwards, just barely managing to catch himself on one weakened arm. Franky scolded him and helped him lay back, promising him punishment if he tried that again. Sanji ignored him, however, and continued to speak over Franky's reprimands, demanding to know if Flare was okay.

"Sanji?" The young girl Zoro had seen in the pool approached. She'd shed the complicated equipment, but her eyes were swollen and red, and tears threatened to fall from them again. She hid her quivering lips behind small hands and stared wide eyed down at the blond. "I'm so sorry," she whimpered.

Sanji's expression softened instantly, and his body relaxed entirely. "Don't worry about it, my dear, it was only an accident," he assured her in an eloquent, and frankly cheesy, manner. "I'm fine, so there was no harm done."

"You're only fine because that guy jumped in to save you," Franky thumbed back at Zoro, and Death suddenly found himself the center of unwanted attention.

"Zoro?" Sanji asked, looking mildly surprised. "You're back," the blond paused, confusion creasing his face. "Franky can see you?"

Franky made a disapproving grunt followed by comment on how the ambulance had better hurry up. Zoro tried to assure Sanji with a look that he would explain later, but the blond continued to look confused. That was, at least, until the girl named Flare started sobbing again, and Sanji instantly turned his focus to reassuring her that everything was fine.

Things were chaos for a while. Once he was sure Sanji wouldn't drop dead on him, Franky began attempting to shoo the on looking crowd away, making room for the paramedics to come and giving Sanji time to recover without an audience. Some, like Flare, went reluctantly while others tried to hover back and continue watching the show.

When the paramedics finally arrived, Zoro was forced to sit back and watch as Sanji was put through a few tests to check his vision and reflexes and make sure that no major damage had been done. Franky offered him a towel, and this time Zoro accepted. The blue haired man was energetic and loud, but he'd just helped to save Sanji, so Zoro couldn't see a reason to turn down the offer.

After the bustle of activity, the paramedics determined Sanji would live, and that there were no damaging effects from being hit over the head and nearly drowning. After he'd come to, Sanji remembered the event up until the moment he lost consciousness, and he proved to be in perfect condition aside from a large bump to the side of his forehead. When it was apparent Sanji would live, most of the still lingering crowd lost interest and carried about their business as usual.

"Leeches," Franky snorted from beside Zoro. "They'll latch on to anything they think might be entertaining, even if it's at someone's expense."

Zoro couldn't help but agree with that assessment of human beings, but he didn't say so out loud. Mostly because he didn't want to engage Franky in conversation. It was one thing to follow Sanji around; Sanji was his intended victim, and even if Zoro couldn't kill him, there was something about the blond that drew Zoro to him. For a human, he was interesting, enough so to intrigue Zoro. One fascinating human was enough, however, and Zoro didn't want to get to know another.

"Oi," the blond's gravelly voice roused him from his musings.

"Sanji-bro!" Franky greeted, standing and slapping Sanji on the back, a bit too hard for someone who had just survived a near death experience. "Feeling better?"

Sanji's knees buckled slightly, and he gritted his teeth in annoyance. "I'd feel fine if you wouldn't hit me," he ground out, removing Franky's hand from his shoulder.

Franky didn't rise to Sanji's bad attitude, however, instead he laughed cheerfully. "Sorry, sorry," he apologized, sounding less than sincere. "I'm just glad to see you moving around."

Sanji's attitude died a little at that, and he sighed. "Yeah, thanks, Franky," he said, sounding genuine. "Thanks to you."

"No way," Franky crossed his arms into an 'X' in front of him. "If you want to thank anyone, thank the green-bro, he's the one who pulled you out of the pool so fast."

Sanji's face split into a mocking grin at the nickname "green-bro", and he turned his blue eyes on Zoro. Zoro returned the look with an even deeper scowl but refused to say anything to encourage Sanji's mockery further.

Sanji seemed satisfied enough for the moment. He plucked lightly at one of Zoro's sleeves, and Zoro instinctively jerked at the contact. Sanji wasn't near his skin, but it was Zoro's kneejerk reaction to avoid touching anyone or allowing anyone to touch him.

If Sanji noticed his reaction, he didn't comment, instead he pulled away again and said, "Still damp. Well, come on, Green-bro," he teased. "Let's get you dried off. Or perhaps your moss hair likes all that water?"

Franky laughed out loud, and Zoro glared sharply at Sanji. Sanji laughed himself, a full, refreshing sound, before walking away; presumably leading Zoro to a place he could dry off properly at. Zoro's glare followed after him, and, with a snarl of frustration at both himself for obeying a human and at Sanji for being so irritating, Zoro stood and followed behind him.

The locker room Sanji led Zoro to was marked for staff use only and was empty and silent. The inside was a long row of lockers that ran the walls and divided the room in half, leaving an open space back to where Zoro could see showerheads along the wall. Benches were rooted to the ground in front of the lockers, each painted in a swirling pattern made of various shades of blue. The walls were covered in small, square tiles, every color imaginable and arranged in a swirling, ornate pattern. It was a lot of color in such a small space, and it felt crowded to Zoro, but the colors and patterns were undeniably appealing, reminding Zoro of a swirling ocean's tide.

"I think we have some spare sweats in here," Sanji said to him, disappearing into a small office area. "They're grey, but you'll have to make do until we get your clothes dried."

Sanji emerged with a couple sets of clothes and handed one to Zoro. The material was kind of prickly and uncomfortable, and the color was an awful light gray. Zoro sneered at the fabric and looked at Sanji as if he might be insane. The blond didn't really expect him to wear this, did he?

"Don't give me that look," Sanji chuckled. "It's just until I can dry your clothes, so man up and put them on."

Zoro visibly winced but complied; setting the set of clothes Sanji had just handed him onto the bench, he bent and began to pull his boots off. Satisfied, Sanji turned and pulled out his own change of clothes from his locker. At least he had something acceptable to change into.

"Why is it Franky could suddenly see you?" Sanji asked, unzipping the wetsuit he was wearing. "The guy in the shop this morning couldn't," Sanji froze in his movements and turned with wide eyes to Zoro. "That doesn't mean he's going to die or something, does it?"

"Your friend will be fine," Zoro assured him. "He still has plenty of years left."

"But he could see you," Sanji stated.

"I told you I was going back for something," Zoro began to explain. "It's a body, of sorts. It allows me to move about the human world in disguise."

"It looks just like you," Sanji remarked.

"Of course," Zoro frowned. "How would you feel being stuck in a body that didn't resemble who you are? I'll tell you, it's very uncomfortable."

Sanji paused, looking a little stunned by that comment, but shook it off. "Why did you need a body, though? Is it hard to stay here without one?"

"Not at all," Zoro shrugged. "Honestly this thing is confining, and I'd prefer to go without it, but what would your friends have thought if your body had suddenly flown from the pool by itself?"

"Ah," Sanji said. "I guess you have a point."

"Of course I do," Zoro smirked.

Sanji shot him a glare but continued working at the zipper of his wetsuit. When it was fully drawn down, he peeled the tight fabric away from his skin, and Zoro spun away quickly, leaving the man to change without an audience.

Sanji however, seemed to have no such concerns.

"Whoa," he breathed the moment Zoro pulled his shirt off.

Zoro paused in his undressing, glancing back at the blond curiously. Sanji's eyes were trained on him, two blue orbs widened in horror. Sanji didn't meet his eyes, however, instead he stared at the skin of Zoro's back.

Zoro glanced over his shoulder. Not that he didn't already know what he would see there. It was just a reflexive action. He knew well that the pale white skin was marred with a jagged, slightly pink scar that ran from shoulder to hip in a disjointed diagonal. It was softer, shinier looking than his skin, puckered and bunched in places. It was a grotesque reminder of his previous life, one that would never fade even if a millennia would pass.

"What the hell happened?" Sanji asked, taking a step forward, his eyes still trained on the scar.

"Uh," Zoro frowned, wondering how to answer that. It was a personal story, one he rarely shared with anyone. Most of the other incarnations already knew it, having had a hand in it themselves, and those that didn't had never asked. Every incarnation had a past; a human life that had led them to where they were now. But those pasts could be very dark, sad, or tragic, and for some it was like pouring salt on an open wound to have to remember them.

But why not tell Sanji? Zoro's human life had been short, and he'd been a foolhardy idiot, but it was the past. He felt no shame or grief from such a distant life, and he'd learned the error of his ways since then. He didn't hold his past in his memories as a tragic history but rather as a stepping stone that led him to where he now stood.

Sanji had stepped closer again, and Zoro turned to face him, revealing the rest of his past injury. Sanji drew in a sharp breath, releasing it in a hiss as if he could feel the pain from the wound. Of course he couldn't. The pain had been incredible for the short time he could feel anything. It was an all-consuming feeling, maddening and disorienting, to the point where Zoro almost wished for death just to escape it.

The scar from his back continued along his front, connecting at the shoulder and running down and across his chest. It didn't quite connect at the hip, but stopped, leaving a scant bit of skin unharmed between the two lines. Zoro looked down at it, considering it for a moment, trying to see it as Sanji would.

Sanji stopped in front of him, his eyes no longer on the scar, but on Zoro's face, wordlessly demanding an answer to his question.

"This…" Zoro touched the scar absent mindedly. "This is the wound that killed me."

Sanji's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and Zoro could see the questions dancing in his eyes, but the blond remained quiet, giving Zoro the chance to explain for himself.

Zoro drew in a breath. It had to have been at least two hundred years since he told this story to anyone. The memory had never faded though. Most likely, it never would.

"When I was young, and alive, I was arrogant. I got the idea in my head that I was invincible and undefeatable," Zoro chuckled darkly. "I wasn't."

There was silence for a moment while Sanji waited for Zoro to continue and Zoro thought about how to explain his past in words. Relating a story like this to someone that have never experienced those times was more difficult than he had anticipated.

"I was a swordsman; I'm not really sure if it was something I did for work, or if it was just something I enjoyed… maybe both. I would travel a lot and take up jobs as a bodyguard or an assassin, anything to get me by. I liked new challenges. I wanted to be the greatest swordsman in the world. I promised a friend," Zoro paused. He wasn't sure he wanted to retell that much. It was a promise he'd failed to keep, and he'd spend the rest of his existence remembering that.

"Wherever I went, I would challenge the best swordsman in the area. I was always victorious, and over time I got too confident in my abilities. When I challenged a true master, I did it recklessly and arrogantly. He tried to warn me off, he knew at a glance that I was no match for him, but I was foolish and refused to listen."

He placed a hand absentmindedly against the scar on his chest. "He ended it pretty quickly. Sliced me nearly in two. There was none of the fancy medical equipment that you have now, but even if there was, I'm not sure I could have been saved, not with a wound like this. I died pretty quickly, I guess."

"I didn't really want to die, but it was a large part of who I was. I accepted that every day might be my last, and I took lives every step of the way. When he came for me, he came like an old friend…"

Zoro trailed off. There was too much to explain after that. Those memories were swirled in confusion and hazy. He could remember being asked if he truly wanted to die, remembered the offer he'd been made, the conversation he'd had with the previous Death, but those were moments of clarity amongst a dark storm of haze.

Sanji moved and pulled Zoro from his thoughts. One slender hand rose from the blond's side. He'd moved closer at some point, though Zoro had no idea when, so that now they were only a short distance apart. Sanji's hand reached forward, and Zoro tensed, ready to jerk away.

"Relax," Sanji assured him. "I'm not going to touch."

Zoro didn't dare relax as Sanji's fingers traced along Zoro's scar, not touching, but close enough that Zoro could feel the warmth of Sanji's skin radiating. If Zoro so much as inhaled, they might accidentally touch, so he was powerless to do anything more than stand still and wait.

Sanji traced the scar from Zoro's shoulder down across his chest. Zoro shuddered a little against the warmth that tingled against his cool flesh, and Sanji flashed him a cocky grin that made Zoro want to hit him. Sanji's fingers never stopped their movement though, and Sanji's attention quickly returned to them. They stopped when they reached the end of the scar at Zoro's hip. He didn't remove them though, and Zoro stood there, barely breathing, watching Sanji carefully and waiting for the blond to pull away… or maybe continue, Zoro wasn't sure what he wanted more.

"This body you're in resembles you," the blond frowned, his eyes still intently focused on where his fingers were. "Do you have these scars too?"

"Of course. This body was made to look just like me," Zoro answered.

"It strange that Death has scars," Sanji remarked, finally letting his hand drop and freeing Zoro from his spell. He looked up, meeting Zoro's eyes before continuing. "Scars are marks on your body; I didn't think they would affect your essence."

Zoro stepped back, just a small step but enough to give him more room to breathe and more space between him and Sanji. Sanji made no effort to come closer; to Zoro's relief, he continued to stand in that same spot and watch Zoro with those eyes that almost unnerved the spirit of Death.

"Some scars are deep enough to mark even your soul," Zoro said to him.

A pained look crossed Sanji's face when Zoro said that. Though the blond was still looking at him, the blue eyes were distant, focused on something far away in memory and invisible to anyone else.

"I guess I can see that," he finally said.

"Now hurry up and give me your clothes so we can get out of here," He snatched Zoro's top from him and shoved it into the large cubic drier. He turned expectantly and looked down at Zoro's pants. "Come on, moss head, strip."