Here Unohana Yachiru Lost The Game
As the sword thrust towards her in the darkness of the room, she remembered the first time she had ever met the boy. It seemed so easy, too easy, too good to be true. And it was for them. For sinners like them, there was no happy ending. No thrill, not even the thrill of death as it raced towards her on his sword, could ever match the thrill she had just experienced. Crossing swords, the endless splash of blood upon the floor.
Unohana Yachiru knew the price of sinning and living like a beast. Her sin raged on before her like some insane monster, screaming for blood. It was like Zaraki was a mirror, reflecting back what she used to be. What she always had been. What she could be no more.
It was in this moment, she felt her age. She had outlived many, and she didn't care, the weak came and went like the tides. But this was the end of an era, and the beginning of a new. Her time had come to a close in this realm, as much as she craved the endless battle of life, it was her duty to let go.
Her hair billowed around her as she stilled.
Kenpachi Zaraki didn't know she would stand there, waiting patiently like only Retsu could when the sword raced towards her. He thought, in this beautiful moment where all of his restrains fell away, that their game would continue. They were both being honest now.
He would thrust, she would parry. She would slash, he would deflect.
When Kenpachi Yachiru smiled, he smiled, because their fight would go on. He would carry it on forever, just as she had. Healing him, and herself, forever. Zaraki had finally found his match, the weight to balance his sword.
He thought back to all of their encounters prior to this. Her face wore many different emotions, switching from mask to mask, but he saw the monster underneath. Zaraki barely had time to wonder why she ever bothered to hide herself from the world when the sword slid through scar tissue, running her through.
Kenpachi smiled when her white jacket constricted around her; pulling back as it was caught on his nameless sword. She felt the blood, the sword, and the fury running through her chest. She felt death, guiding her down to the floor as she fell back, but surprisingly little pain. Her hair billowed around her, and her gentle smile widened into a crooked one.
Kenpachi stopped smiling. He saw Yachiru smile, and suddenly, the euphoria of their battle was lost. There was no red, not in his mind, when her blood pooled around her. It was only black and white in the room, and he bellowed like some lost animal.
"Heal yourself." He commanded, as she lay still on the floor. She shook her head, forever denying him everything and anything he wanted. His anger doubled, but so did his despair. Here was his mirror. The woman who made him who he was. He fell to his knees over her, desperate to preserve one of the only people who mattered to him.
He hadn't realised he was crying until her strong pale hand reached up to wipe them away. She drew a shuddering breath.
"All things must come to an end. You know this, as well as I. You were meant to kill me, be it here or later Zaraki. This is the end of an era, and the beginning of a new one." She breathed out, blue eyes sparkling. Kenpachi noticed that was the only color he could make out in this room. Even dying, her eyes were maniacal, cold and ruthless.
"You should stop talking, my scar is burning." He replied gruffly, though in truth it was because he wanted her to conserve her strength. She laughed lightly, but it was a hollow and wet sound. Her eyes closed and she grinned crookedly. It was a smile Zaraki had known from his childhood, the one he had dreamed about for all these years.
"Did you know, I love to fight? It's the only thing that makes me happy in life, fighting the strongest person I could find. I learned to heal myself so I could fight forever." She whispered honestly, breathing becoming harder. She felt happiness, more happiness than she had ever felt dying. Her restless nature was becoming soothed, and her need to battle finally sated. Kenpachi's face softened above hers.
"I always knew. Maybe before even you did." He answered, the hollow pain in his chest amplifying. Her eyes opened again as her hand fell.
"Congratulations Zaraki Kenpachi," She said. He shook his head, his long wild hair moving with him. He didn't say anything, because there was nothing to say.
Yachiru Unohana, the first Kenpachi, opened her lips for the last time. "You were the only man to ever make me happy." She whispered. Zaraki did not speak, letting the words weigh upon the silence. His agony had just begun, in this world without an equal.
And when those last few words slipped from the air, a new era began.