Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or its Characters - and I am the biggest Kenpachi Fan EVER! :D :D
Kenpachi Zaraki.
A shinigami whose name inspired fear into all those around him. A warrior. A beast. A Demon.
Captain of the elite fighting unit, 11th Division. His unbearable spiritual pressure permeated the very walls of the barracks, causing even the most docile of visitors to feel the itch of battle rising in their blood.
And among all this masculine, deadly and uncontrollably deadly aura was a pink haired young woman.
Yachiru Kusajishi had grown up in the years after Aizen's demise. The moment she and her beloved Ken-Chan had entered into the fake Karakura town, and she had witnessed all her friends' dead, and had seen her beautiful, strong Ken-Chan cut down in the midst of his battle with the former captain of 5th division.
She had mourned. She had aged. She had felt bitter anger, and burning resentment for the strange hollowfied shinigami who had killed the person she loved the most. She had lost that light, that inner beauteous light that had always allowed her to see the beauty in all things.
However, she was not unhappy. Her Ken had died in battle, just as he had wanted. What made her angry was that Aizen had cheated – he had altered himself into 2 beings – effectively outweighing the numbers, in her opinion. If Aizen was just one or the other – either Hollow or Shinigami – Yachiru was certain Kenpachi could have beaten him.
3 weeks she stayed with his cold, heavy body. Not wanting to move him, and too proud to bury his glorious war wounds.
And then the angel-girl came.
The angel girl she had always called booby-chan. But now – she was something more. Something alien. Something ethereal. Her smile warmed Yachiru's cold, blood stained hands, and she felt her not-so-innocent soul flower once more under that gentle, motherly gaze. When the pink haired lieutenant spoke, her voice was rusty and level, deeper than she remembered ever hearing it, and broken from the sobs that had racked her body for so long.
"Ken-cha….Captain Zaraki… is dead"
Her eyes filled once more, and she felt angry that she had fallen back to tears so quickly. Orihime knelt down among the rubble, her spotless white gown whispering along the dust and she laid a gentle hand upon the dark clad shoulder.
"Yachiru. Captain Zaraki doesn't want you to cry anymore. He says he doesn't like it."
The lieutenant whipped her head up, her eyes ablaze with anger, "And what do you know what Ken-Chan would have wanted? You didn't know him – not like I did!" Her fists clenched in the torn, bloody haori she sat on.
Orihime smiled further, her eyes alight with a knowledge that belied her years. "I said he doesn't like it. Not he didn't like it." She waited for Yachiru to pick up on the difference. When she saw her eyes widen in questioning hope, she continued, "Yachiru, I need you to move away from him now." Yachiru stuck out her lip, both pouting, and hopeful. Unlatching herself (which took several tries, as her fingers were nearly frozen in place) She stood back and gazed upon the prone form of her beloved Ken-Chan. She saw Orihime come into view and stand over her captain, her hands held out in front of her, palms down.
"Soten kishun… I reject"
The words wafted on the slow breeze as light bloomed above Kenpachi. Yachiru waited, breath held, eyes motionless as she watched the wound that had killed him, the near decapitating shot, slowly knit together, going faster with each passing moment.
Once the wounds were healed, Yachiru saw the girl frown in concentration, as her light transformed form a yellow tinged gold, into a bright, piercing silver-white. Under that light, cold skin changed to warm, dried blood flowed anew, and that big, barrel chest slowly rose, in-taking air. Stony features softened from the cold, rigge-mortis of death into the hard, rough edged living flesh that she remembered so well.
The wide, dangerous lips parted, and sucked in oxygen, as those intimidating, familiar eye slowly came into view. A low growl was emitted as the first breath was exhaled. The eyes slowly focused as the blinding light faded, and Orihime backed away slowly, worn.
"…Ken…chan..?" The small voice cracked the air like breaking glass, a more pitiful and heart wrenching sound had never been heard.
The great, dark haired head turned on the ground and stared across the distance at the young woman standing there. His Lieutenant. His companion. His…
"Yachiru"